Back to business ...

[T'aral 0]

T'Aral stepped off of the shuttle with firm intent. The brief resistance the security guards provided proved wilting in the face of a determined Vulcan who had so recently been through the challenges she had. The Commander and Lieutenant Kvar required physicals before they were going anywhere. Security was welcome to post as many guards outside as they wished, but they were not to be inside of the Medical bay.

 

Her stance on the matter was final.

 

As T'Aral stowed her belongings and began to return to her duties, Lieutenant Baliss stepped up. "It's good to see you again, Ma'am. I hate to be a bother so immediately, but there's a matter that needs to be addressed. Our helmsman - Ensign Shalin - he's taken ill after a rough transport. Lieutenant Ratchet says he should be fine, but I'm not so sure. He looked rather bad the last time he was here."

 

T'Aral paused only briefly before looking about. She had her doubts from the beginning when Starfleet assigned Nurse Ratchet to the ship; she did not believe that a ward nurse ( regardless of how many years of experience she may have had ) could effectively serve on a front-line vessel where triage skills were in far greater demand. "Where is the Ensign now?"

 

"He's in his quarters, Ma'am. Confined there - orders from the Bridge."

 

A slightly less experienced Vulcan would've cracked the polished shield of logic to allow a sigh of exasperation. Sick patients were to be in the medical bay - under guard if necessary, but also under observation. She scanned over an incident report on the matter and her brow furrowed ... ever so slightly, but for a moment a crease was there. While it was true that the Ensign had engaged in highly questionable activity, there was no call for denying him medical care. Starfleet was supposedly above such actions. "Summon an orderly, and have him meet me in the Ensign's quarters."

 

Baliss looked up sheepishly. "Sorry Ma'am: no orderlies. They were all sent to the Hard Six ... orders from the Bridge."

 

T'Aral paused to promise herself never to leave the Medical services so vulnerable again. "Very well, Lieutenant; obtain a gurney and meet me in the Ensign's quarters." Stepping through the corridors quickly, she made short work of crossing the halls between Medical and the crew quarters. A quick glance at the posted security guard was all it took to have the door opened. The Ensign was on his bunk, apparently resting. T'Aral noted the active tricorder next to him and examined the readings. Adjusting it slightly, she scanned again. The signs were all there - it was early, but the stress on the Ensign was building steadily. T'Aral jolted over to a com pad. "Bridge - connect me with the Commanche Creek, Medical Department, Lieutenant Farrell."

 

Lieutenant Baliss arrived with the gurney as a voice chimed over the speaker. "Doctor Farrell here."

 

"This is T'Aral. We will be sending over a patient to be prepped for surgery. He is undergoing Distortion Syndrome. There is a slight cardio-respiratory interphase which requires intervention, after which the Erickson Beta-4 protocol is to be initiated. Be advised that he has been heavily medicated. All records will be transferred promptly - acknowledge."

 

"Preparing for surgery, followed by E-Beta-4 ... acknowledged." If the voice on the other end was at all relieved at T'Aral's safe return, it gave no sign. Doctor Farrell knew enough that T'Aral did not require well-wishes or warm welcomes. She required efficiency in the face of challenges.

 

Baliss prepared the gurney. "How serious is it, Ma'am?"

 

T'Aral took the Ensign's shoulders as they transferred him. "He has a number of distortions - tendons merged with their attached bones, a variety of minor organ mergings. I detect no interphasing between his brain and the surrounding skull, therefore a lobotomy should not be required. He will be suffering considerably over the next week while the interphased tissues become necrotic and need for further surgery is possible, but long-term injury is unlikely."

 

Baliss took to quickly driving the gurney about the halls as T'Aral cleared the path. "That's a relief."

 

"Indeed." T'Aral opened the turbolift. "Have the Ensign transferred to the Comanche Creek, then return to Medical." As the lift doors closed she turned away and returned to attending the Lieutenant and Commander Wesley, pausing at her quarters only long enough to change back into uniform.

 

The events of the last several days were over. For T'Aral, it was as if they had never happened.

Edited October 26, 2011 by T'aral