A stitch in time ...

[T'aral 0]

T'Aral got into her surgical uniform while the medical team prepared the patients. The surgery was divided into two sections, since the operations required were similar and required the same equipment. Both patients were prepared and immersed in abiotic fluid adjusted to each patient's individual physiology to facilitate a clean operation.

 

It was determined that Commander Wesley would be operated on first, as scans indicated internal injuries including a slightly punctured lung. Clearing her lungs of fluid and mending her ribs enough to prevent a relapse was a priority. As T'Aral set and fused bone, Lt. Ellis monitored Byblos. The young medic examined the Naussican's wounds to catalog them for surgical priority. She turned to T'Aral. "The medics say that they were beating each other up."

 

T'Aral nodded as she worked. "That would be consistent with the nature of the injuries in question."

 

Ellis cocked her head slightly. "So ... a decorated veteran Starfleet Officer and an accepted mercenary contractor decided that an unsecured combat zone was a good place to beat each other to a broken pulp?"

 

T'Aral nodded again. "That is also consistent with the available evidence."

 

"... and officers in the area ... just let them?"

 

T'Aral nodded again. "You have a developed understanding of the situation, Lieutenant."

 

Ellis turned back to the monitor, shaking her head. "This makes no sense at all."

 

T'Aral finished fusing the last of Wesley's fractured ribs. "Your analysis is sound, if unnecessary."

 

Ellis cocked her head slightly. "You're not the slightest bit curious about what happened?"

 

T'Aral sealed off Wesley's lung, then activated an areator to clear remaining fluid. "No, Lieutenant, I am not curious. The nature of the altercation has no bearing on the nature of their injuries, and it is not my responsibility to pass judgement on their actions. My duty is to tend to their injuries, and to do so with my undivided attention."

 

Ellis smirked under her mask. "What if the Commander draws a Court Martial?"

 

T'Aral carefully sealed her incisions; the protoplaser secured and knitted the Commander's muscles and skin to assure that there wouldn't be so much as a blemish to indicate that surgery had ever been done. "If that occurs, the Commander would have to face a tribunal made up of her peers. It is unlikely that I will be called to serve. If I am, then I will take an interest in the matter."

 

She examined Wesley's other injuries. There was a lot of soft tissue damage, and a heavy amount of dental reconstruction was needed. "Lieutenant, this will take far more time that I anticipated. Summon additional staff and begin repairs on Mr. Byblos' leg. Also: call up data on Naussican skeletal structure for the purpose of mandibular reconstruction."

 

Lt. Ellis nodded, smirking under her mask. The work would take hours, but although she never would admit it Doctor T'Aral had her pride. A patient could expect a curious mix of gentle care, disgusting medication, and excruciating torture ... but they all left the Medical Bay in perfect health. T'Aral would have it no other way - Vulcan pride, after all.