//------------------------------// // Triage // Story: Star Trek: Old Time // by Silent Ghost //------------------------------// Internal hemorrhaging detected Cranial region, parietal lobe. Recommendation: 2 cc medical nanite fluid. “Nurse, hand me one vial of nanite fluid.” Doctor Korl asked. His tired eyes focused on the officer that lay on the biobed. “Sir.” The human nurse tapped his shoulder. He jumped, startled. “Hm?” “You requested nanites?” The nurse questioned, presenting a small vial of clear fluid. “Oh...yes, I did.” He acknowledged. “Thank you, nurse.” Taking the vial, he loaded it into a hypospray and promptly placed it on the unconscious officer’s neck. A small hiss signaled the delivery of the vial’s contents. A holographic display above the officer’s head displayed an MRI image zoomed in on the blood vessel causing the hemorrhage. a clear fluid eating away at the blood and repairing the vessel walls in a matter of seconds. Pulling out his tricorder, Korl scanned his patient. The device chirped and hummed, a message appearing on the small screen: Blood vessel repaired, surrounding brain tissue repaired . No additional issues detected. Implants secure. Administering sleep agent. The doctor sighed, folding the tricorder and placing it in the lab coat pocket. He sighed, taking a look at the makeshift triage center at the bottom floor of The Atrium. The Atrium, seemed a little too fitting a name. The multilevel, oval-shaped area was breathtaking to say the least. Stacked walkways at the edges of the area marked every level, starfleet officers walking casually and occasionally boarding a lift or stairs to reach a different level. Curving ramps and maglev bridges crisscrossed overhead the bottom level without obscuring the lower level from light, as lights on their white undersides provided a reasonable substitute.. Trees and greenery lined the floor and walls, appearing from notches made into the matte grey floors. The ground level, by the doctor’s command, had been turned into a makeshift triage center. Luckily, not many of the 1,200 crew were injured, but the infirmary only had so many biobeds. Patients who received the worst injuries were sent to the infirmary in case of needed surgery. Those who cheated death a little better came to the triage center, where Doctor Korl has continued to work for 24 hours without food or drink. Another pat on his shoulder, Korl turned to find it was the same nurse from before. “Yes?” He droned, eyes visibly tired and expression monotone. The nurse’s eyebrows furled. “Sir, I think it would be best if you took a break.” The nurse suggested, attempting to sound polite. The Trill doctor merely shrugged. “Nurse, I’m perfectly fine.” he shook his head slowly, “I am. I appreciate your concern, though.” he assured, taking a tricorder from the metal tray beside the biobed, scanning the sleeping patient. . “Sir.” The nurse continued. “You’ve worked far longer than the other medical staff. You haven’t eaten for twenty-four hours and you’re showing signs of sleep deprivation. And you’re holding a power cell.” The doctor looked at his “tricorder”, a silver square-shaped power cell in hand and tricorder in pocket. He pursed his lips, placing the power back on the tray. “Alright, I’ll rest.” He sighed, defeated. “You can take care of the patients, correct?” The nurse crossed her arms. “We can handle it, doctor. Now,” She shooed him off with a wave of her hand, “go eat something and take a nap. I’ll notify you if anything arises.” The doctor nodded, inattentive as he walked away. Strolling between the tall trees and shrubbery, the soft hum of the maglev train forced him to look up and watch as the sleek train passed overhead. Crossing his arms, he chuckled before continuing and admired the greenery around him with tired eyes. “Lift” He said, standing in front of a vertical shaft. A glass container with a metal base descended from another shortly, the glass doors opening with a quiet hum. “Deck five, please.” He said, feeling polite. The glass elevator rose in complete silence. The doctor sighed, leaning on the metal rail inside the lift and closed his eyes. His enhanced mind moved with blazing speed, recalling every patient under his care. He never liked to leave before the job was done, gave a sense of emptiness that churned within his stomach which he hated with a passion. It wasn’t long before his mind dozed and a quiet snore filled the lift. “Doctor? Doctor Korl…” The sleeping doctor only grunted at the voice, a look of disgust on his face. “Doctor Korl.” The voice echoed, louder this time. The voice placed a hand on his shoulder, shaking him gently. “Doctor Korl!” The feeling of a hand greeting his face with a hard slap sent him out of his sleepy state. Looking around, he was still in the elevator with his arm wrapped around the rail to keep himself from falling. A tall Vulcan with a monotone expression and arms crossed stood in front of him. A small crowd of officers had formed outside the lift, watching the doctor as he caressed his cheek. The Trill doctor could only stand in embarrassment and confusion as the scene dawned upon him. “...H-how long was I asleep?” He asked the vulcan sheepishly. “You were asleep for five minutes and forty-three seconds, Doctor Korl.” The Vulcan replied. “I attempted to wake you from your sleep, but I had to resort to more….forceful measures.” Korl chuckled slightly. “Well, it’s certainly going to leave a bruise.” He said, “I’ll just...get off the lift now.” He pointed to the door. The Vulcan nodded, the crowd of officers dissipating as the doctor stepped off the lift. ‘This is certainly going to become a bruise.’ Korl thought, 'Should’ve at least held back her strength.’ He sighed, holding a hand over the red spot on his face, feeling it throb to the beat of his heart. Korl stopped and leaned on the glass barrier, scanning the entire expanse of The Atrium below him. Looking up, the ceiling of The Atrium was like a single piece of glass with rods of metal breaking it into circles and odd shapes. Normally, you could see the whole of space, but the bulkheads were still activated, leaving the glass a blue grey color. the doctor pondered why he didn’t see this earlier, remembering the patients that required his attention. As tired as he was, there were patients that needed attention, leaving now would have him feeling guilty. He sighed once more, fumbling with the string that kept his graying brown hair in a neat ponytail. “Chief medical officer Toran Korl.” A voice called. Korl turned to his left to find a single porcelain orb a foot away from him, a low pulsing hum could be heard emanating from it. “I thought auxiliary systems were still offline.” “That is incorrect, Doctor Korl.” The orb responded in its digital voice, “Auxiliary systems, secondary, and tertiary computer cores have been fully restored as of three hours, twenty-three minutes, nineteen seconds ago.” “What about primary power and Gazelle?” “Both are currently in the process of being restored, many major systems are still unaccounted for.” The orb replied once more, “I bring a message from your head nurse, medical officer Ara Grayson.” Korl looked at the bottom floor of The Atrium, a tiny figure looked upwards towards him with arms arms crossed and a possible scolding look on their face. “I think I get the idea.” He said, “Disregard the message. Bring a message to Nurse Grayson saying I’ll be in my quarters if any assistance is needed.” “Certainly, Doctor.” The orb audibly chirped, “Will that be all?” “That is all, you may return to Nurse Grayson.” The orb chirped once more and sped away down the hall. With tired eyes, Korl thought maybe his nurse was onto something, and with a defeated sigh he stood and walked down the hallway, taking a look at the glass ceiling once more before entering a turbolift. “Deck 4.” The doctor commanded as the doors closed. He audibly sighed as the lift began to move, leaning on the wall and placed a hand to his temple, feeling his spots. The cheetah-like spots that ran down the sides of his body had a completely different texture than his skin, almost like sandpaper to the touch. "Long day..." He muttered, the turbolift doors opening to reveal a empty hallway, leaving the doctor to walk in relative silence.