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H'Rasha Trenral

Cat on Call

After the affair that had gone down in the security offices, Commander Kansas JoNs and her bodyguards -- Lt. Mical and PO Darjhan – had started to make progress towards the medical offices.

JoNs was starting to slip away fast, and even though the felinoid officer was trying to hang in there, there were still random droplets of blood peppering the ship corridors, marking JoNs's progress as she made her way to the medical department.

In the section of her brain reserved for administrative duties, Kansas made a mental note to put in a call to the housekeeping teams.

"Hi there. This is Commander JoNs, and you see, I sorta bled all over certain sections of the ship. Yes, I did cut myself shaving…"

…of course, she really wouldn't say that to the department shift lead, but, she still couldn't help the thought.

She was fighting a stoic fight, and had ambulated about three quarters of the way despite the knife gashes across her collar bone, forearm, and leg. But, the leg injury in particular had started to spasm and stiffen due to the knife wounding, and so, she had been accepting of some help from the Andorian female Mical who scooped a strong blue hand under the felines bicep and took some of her weight while the feline Ex Oh hobbled/walked/grunted the rest of the way to the medial section.

As the trip came upon the double steel entry way doors into the inner sanctum of the Medicos, the golden furred Cait dished out orders. "You two wait outside. Unless they're dying, no one gains admittance to the medical bay for the next little while…I don't want any more dang surprises."

…the order would have sounded way more commanding if her voice wasn't tinged with pain.

And even if JoNs were to encounter some sort of surprise…she wasn't entirely sure that she would be able to manage to put up some kind of solid fight; she was really starting to hurt now, and stimulants wouldn't be any use -- she needed to seek medical attention. There were just certain injuries that you couldn't "shake off."

The leonine feline wiped a paw over the keypad entry scanner (whoops, there was another blood smear), and the doorway obediently sprang apart to allow her admittance into the main medical bay.

JoNs gloomily glanced at a bulkhead mounted chronometer set off to one side of the outer office area, and saw that it was two AM ships time; it was a long day already, she was due to spearhead a department head meeting first thing, and the new day shift hadn't even technically started yet.

A whistle pierced the still of the night, and then JoNs followed up the sound with a called out vocalization of, "Doctor on shift!"

Back in the lab, where H'Rasha preferred to be as often as possible so she could avoid the annoyance of other demanding sentient life forms, the open intercom she always left on to hear anyone puttering around the sickbay sprang to life with the swooshing of the doors, followed shortly thereafter by a whistle and call for the doctor.

"Keep your shirt on, I'll be right out," she purred over the intercom. Unable to just drop her experiment and run without losing hours of work, she spent a moment stabilizing it. While she'd yet to meet the owner of that voice, she'd heard it over the intercom a few times since her arrival on board the Agincourt. While she imagined the Commander would expect her to jump on all fours and run out of the doors, the 2nd in Command would just have to wait.

It didn't matter that H'Rasha Trenral was a Caitian; whether the female doctor had been Caitian, Vulcan, Human or Other, as the newest doctor on staff for the Agincourt, she had gotten plucked into the third shift roster. Even an Imperial warship had a corporate pecking order so to speak, and if you were the newbie, you put your time in on the shifts where you were needed.

And, despite the common species bloodline and culture? Trenral was still too new for JoNs to have gotten a read on her or her intentions on board the ship. Professionally, she was very good, that much had been certain. Although, the medical doctor had only been on board for a few weeks, and to be completely honest, JoNs would have rather *not* met her in a professional setting under the current circumstances. Nothing like having your ships Exec show up bleeding on your figurative doorstep to make a lasting impression, eh?

Kansas stripped out of her uniform completely, leaving on a regulation uniform issue sports bra and female designed underwear. It took some doing, moving with the wounds while not aggravating them further, but the feline did fairly well getting the sticky with blood clothing off; the garments were useless now anyway.

Once certain all her efforts wouldn't be wasted when she could return to the lab, she exited into sickbay proper. A quick sweep of her eyes and she found her patient. Hard not to notice a half naked Caitian standing there, dripping blood all over the place.

"So much for keeping your shirt on," H'Rasha commented wryly. "All right, hop on the biobed, we'll see what needs to be done."

She laid flat on her back as directed on the bio bed and grunted in pain as she got into the position.

When I was flat on my back earlier? Yeah, that was much more fun then this…

…okay, that was definitely a random thought…out of context, definitely…it was enjoyable though...whoa, okay, attention span drifting. Must be the blood loss…

The cougar-esque Caitian doctor made her way over as the XO complied. Flicking on the biobed's scanners, she quickly looked over all the damage and tsked, but asked no questions. "You're not going to enjoy this next bit," she said. Grabbing a bottle of cleaning solution, which worked quite well and killed off any microbes and quickly washed any other contaminants (though it had the unfortunate side effect of burning like hell), she chose to start on the nastiest looking cut on the leg. Without any further ado, or warning, she poured the solution over the cut and then stepped back to ensure she didn't get clawed during the inevitable reaction.

After H'Rasha poured the liquid over the deep cut on her leg, JoNs about bolted to the ceiling panels when the healing medicine interacted with the abraded and sliced skin tissue and worked its way down into the exposed muscle, cleansing the wound of anything that might have slipped in. As it stood, she sat upright from the pallet and yowled and couldn't help the tears that sprang to form in her eyes. Her attention span had most assuredly shot back into reality.

"Hmph. When you get that one out of your system, lie back down so I can do the rest of them." the doctor drawled, absolutely no sympathy in her voice whatsoever. If you're going to put yourself into a position to be cut all to hell, you deserve what you get, H'Rasha thought. Crossing her arms, her paws impatiently tapping her own biceps, she waited for the XO to get done with the hysterics portion of treatment part 1A.

Darjhan and Mical in a knee jerk guard reaction to the yowled cry came bolting into the sickbay.

The XO didn't glance up from where her pained attention had fixated on the decking, but nevertheless sensed the movement from her guards and spoke to them.

"Back. Get…back to your posts…"

The two guards quietly complied and exited the immediate area, sharing a look with one another caught somewhere between sympathetic and "this is normal".

Kansas had clamped her paws on the side edges of the bed and gritted her fangs as the liquid bubbled and frothed and worked its excruciating cleansing magic. Her fluffy golden tail, hanging off to the opposite side of the pallet from where her fellow Cait medico stood waiting in stony silence, quivered with pain.

Once the medicinal liquid had run its course, the lion-like senior officer flopped back prone on the bio bed, panting slightly as she got her breathing back under control, her chest heaving slightly. "Veken …"

H'Rasha had watched this go on without twitching an eye. In fact when the guards had come rushing in she hadn't even bothered to twitch an ear. She had not been the least surprised that JoNs' bodyguards came running. If more people had them, they'd run in for most treatments offered in the room. Medical science, while effective, had never been too concerned with the comfort of the patient, and treatments often coaxed out more screaming than the incidents that brought them to sickbay in the first place.

 

"And wasn't that fun?" Purred the upright Caitian after her patient laid back down. "Might as well get to the rest before you get too comfy." H'Rasha turned, grabbing a new bottle of the damnable liquid. Facing back over the Executive Officer, she clamped her left paw down over the injured arm and then immediately poured half of the bottle over the gash in the collarbone and the other half over the forearm before discarding the bottle and using her right paw to hold the uninjured shoulder down onto the bed. "Can't have the liquid running away from the wounds," she said simply as she mercilessly watched the next bit of agony.

The renewed haze of pain as the medicine coursed through the other two knife wounds was enough to keep Kansas down on the bed as she writhed a bit in pain, the particular bedside manner and grip of the Agincourt doctor notwithstanding. "Veken shayshana…son of a…grrrk…"

"Well, now that that's over..." H'Rasha released her grip on the XO and tidied up a bit, giving her fellow Cait a few breaths while collecting a compressed air hypo. "The fellow that came up with that solution is dead now, by the way, but he does have a nice 'fan club' up on the subspace net if you'd like to join the community." With what had to be an infuriating chuckle, she studied the biobed readings a second before she blew the air over each wound to evaporate off any remaining solution.

JoNs managed to gasp out, "…you have a particular…bedside manner…Doctor Trenral, is it?"

"Got it in one, Commander," H'Rasha purred. She placed aside the hypo of air and bent down to look at the wounds up close now that the solution had done its magic. "Tsk, tsk. You really must stop running into those sharp objects," she commented dryly, reaching down and parting any fur away. "It's really counter-productive." Taking up a dermal regnerator, she gave it a few lazy swipes over the leg wound to test the integrity of the wound.

"You know," she said off hand. "I've been studying up on the practice of stitching wounds..."

 

"That would be a negatory Doctor unless you want to lose some fur."

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