Episode 2: Inevitable
Location: Sickbay, USS Defiant
Timeline: Following “Clear”
Morgan rubbed at his eyes with the knuckles of his thumbs and bit back a yawn as he sat on a rolling stool and kept an eye on the bio-bed readouts above Captain Reynolds. It wasn’t that he didn’t trust the readouts, but he liked to match them to the responses or lack there of from his patients.
When she’d been beamed to sick bay, she’d been a mess.
Leaning back into the support, he pulled the PADD into his lap again and made a few notes, then scrolled through the procedures and medicine applied and balanced it against what he’d experienced and what he saw now.
The Captain had been unconscious when they’d gotten her onto the bio-bed and when he’d started bringing her around, cerebral pressure had begun to spike at the same time she’d went into arrest even as she’d called out the name Alina in an anguished voice.
Worried about a Intracerebral hemorrhage, he’d opted to put her into a coma. That had shut her mind down and given them a chance to get a handle on….
….well, everything else.
Physically, there were contusions and abrasions. Mostly what you’d expect given the circumstances. Morgan suspected most of the damage was from whatever she’d gone through confronting Typhon and then the scramble that had ensued within the transporter.
Idly he recalled reading a scathing opinion bit from one Dr. McCoy on transporters and their relatively unknown long-term effect on organic tissue.
Snickering to himself, Morgan shook his head and slid the PADD into the slot on the bio-bed where it belonged and stretched.
Sparing another glance at the Captain, his tired mind registered that there was at least some improvement. She’d gone from being just a mess to a hot mess.
Niamh strolled into the sickbay briskly followed by Dante. The first officer looked unusually disheveled as she keyed into where Morgan sat near the Captain and made her way directly there. To see the Captain, her friend, in such a prone position was disheartening. In all the time she had known Charlotte she had been the one to lead the crew towards success. She had the feeling Morgan was about to tell her something neither she, nor the rest of the crew, would receive very well.
She cast a glance over her shoulder towards Dante, it seemed the two of them would have the Command for longer than she imagined either of them were comfortable with.
"Doctor" Niamh said once she was close enough, offering Morgan a weak attempt at the smile she normally wore easily, "What's going on?"
A soft but prolonged groan emanated from the bio bed. The captain, looking ever so slightly more alive, but substantially more disheveled, stirred under the sheet. Her brow was still deeply furrowed.
Standing, Morgan said in sotto voice, "Let's see if she can tell us," to Niamh and Dante, then the doctor stepped close to the bio-bed and looked down at Charlotte. "Captain? You're in Defiant's sickbay and are going to be fine. How are you feeling?"
Charlotte groaned again, blinking a few times before her vision. The room slowly swam as she looked on. "I....feel pretty terrible. Not going to lie..." She attempted to sit up, but her head broke in a splitting headache, laying her flat again. "The ship...are we safe?"
"Yes, the Defiant is currently making a direct heading towards the Federation border at warp 1.8," Niamh answered, he face betraying the concern she was trying to push down, "the Defiant took a beating but most of the systems essential for operations can be repaired en route" she finished before taking a step closer to the bed Charlotte occupied, "We can have a more in-depth discussion when you're feeling a bit better though, ma'am" she offered in assurance.
Dante had walked up on the other side of the bed, and looked down at Charlotte as she addressed Niamh. She looked like she'd been through the wringer a couple of times, at least. Hell, looking at her, he was more worried about her than he was about Defiant. "Definitely, we need you back on your feet, so the less stress right now the better. We've got the ship underway, let us worry about all that. You just get well."
The captain stirred in her bio bed a bit. Relaxing and not focusing on ongoing issues wasn't a strong suit for her in the best of times. Right now, with the thoughts she was barely keeping at bay, it sounded like a prison sentence. Work would distract her, providing some semblance of an escape from the memories of a trauma all too fresh. She hoped the fatigue and general physical trauma did a decent job of masking the emotions she was going through. She ran a hand frustratedly through her hair. "I'll do my best. Doctor, how long do I actually need to stay off my feet? And let's cut to the actual medical minimum, since I think we all know I'll be pushing those limits."
Morgan had know this fight would be coming.
He'd known since his first day aboard Defiant.
Looking evenly at the blonde woman, he said. "Take the rest of the day off. Get a meal. Tomorrow I think you could review paperwork from your quarters, since there seems to be a sever aversion amongst the crew to my sickbay." The last said dryly, he continued with the same tone, "After that, we'll see. You check in morning and evening here...or I'll come looking for you. For right now, my dear Captain, you're in hack. Light duty only. You went through a rough episode there and I had to put you into a coma to try and let things sort out."
The doctor glanced to O'Donaghue, then back to Charlotte. "Yes I know. I'm a pain in the ass. However, that's my job. I can't let you go back to full duty until I know you're ready. That means the Commander here is going to have to clear you mentally before I let you loose on the galaxy from that central chair. You can do administrative work, tour the ship, that kind of thing. But in moderation, please. As I said, I'll be keeping an eye on you: your diet, activity. Primarily those base lines we'll take twice a day for the next week. After that, we'll see. How's that sound?"
“It sounds...livable.” The captain couldn’t muster a more substantial protest. The doctor was right after all. “In that case, I will keep myself here. Niamh, I’d like to do a briefing tomorrow morning. I promise I won’t do anything intensive. Just want to know what kind of shape my ship is in.”
"Of course, providing you're up to it, I can make that happen" Niamh accepted apprehensively, "Try not to worry too much, preliminary assessments are already in progress, once we catch our bearings it'll be smoother sailing" She promised hopefully. They had staff capable of organising the repair effort and everyone aboard knew enough of the basics to assist with the easier tasks. Providing the Command Team could keep the morale up Niamh positive they could be through the worst of it.