Al Tre Nek’s main medical facility was not much more than a camp of tents and hastily put together prefabs. In a city in which the average temperate hardly ever dropped below ten degrees Celsius an outdoor hospital made a certain kind of sense. The other bright side to this was that the provisional facility would not soon exceed capacity as new buildings were constantly added.
Whatever its current capacity however, it was quickly reaching it. Tent after tent contained patients. Most could be divided into two general categories. Those suffering from serious physical traumas which were more likely to be found in a battlefield clinic than in an inner city hospital and those who were suffering sickness and disease brought on by the weakened immune systems of those who did not get enough food or medicine.
Doctor Wenera, her young colleague Doctor Barry Nelson, Lieutenant T’Ser and a group of Eagle’s medical staff were being guided through the hospital by a corps of medical professionals all of which wore crisp military uniforms except for two civilian technicians.
“Unfortunately we do not have the expertise or the resources to assist patients with such severe injuries. We have experimented with different kind of prosthetics but to be honest we don’t have the rehabilitation facilities to assist patients in using them properly,” one of the doctor’s explained, as they hovered over a young man who had lost both his legs.
Doctor Nelson had inquired about their plans for him.
“He will have to rely on a wheelchair,” the doctor continued.
“What roles will he be able to perform once he is reintegrated into society,” asked Wenera who was studying her padd, making notes, even while she spoke.
There was no reply from the group of doctors.
Wenera looked up and into the blank faces of her Tiaitan counterparts. Then she looked down at the young man who had only until recently been a boy. He was excited to see the alien visitors, the first he had ever seen. But there was little hope in those bright eyes. On the contrary, he had made peace with the fact that his life was essentially over.
“Wait,” said T’Ser, “are you telling us that you don’t have any programs to assist the physically disabled?”
One of the medtechs spoke up. He was not much older than the patient and fidgeted nervously with his fingers. “Most people with such obvious handicaps will have to try and make the best of their situation. Some may find employment in fields that don’t require any physical labor but most will end up on their own.”
The other technician, this one older and physically more impressive, threw the younger man a chastising glance as if to remind him that it was not his place to speak.
The doctors were equally unimpressed. “The Brothers will take care of him,” one of them said sharply.
“In other words,” said T’Ser, “he’ll end up in the streets, begging for his next meal.” She turned to look at the Starfleet doctors. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to issue them with cybernetic prosthetics. I’ve heard a lot of good things about them.”
But Wenera shook her head. “Cybernetics are not part of our supply list.”
“Fair enough,” said the Vulcan. “But surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to add them to our supplies. We could replicate the necessary items as and when they are needed.”
Doctor Wenera turned to the Vulcan woman. “Lieutenant, I appreciate your input,” she said even while her facial expressions didn’t quite support her words. “But why don’t you leave the medical assessments to me?” she added and then moved on to the next patient.
T’Ser was not ready to quit. “I know I’m not a doctor but I can see when people suffer. And I believe it is our job here to alleviate suffering, or am I mistaken on that point?”
“You’re not. That man will live,” she said and then held up her padd. “According to the patient register there are at least four hundred people in here who might not if we don’t provide them with the right treatments within the next forty-eight hours. So excuse me if I don’t have the time to consider how people will adapt to their lives once they are released. My primary concern is to get them well enough to be released at all.”
T’Ser glared at the younger woman. Maybe Wenera made a decent point but she didn’t have to be so blatant about it.
Wenera moved on.
“She’s upset,” said Doctor Nelson to T’Ser once her boss and most of the others had walked out of earshot. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I’m not,” she said, half-lying.
“She just found out that more than half of the supplies that were to be delivered here have either never arrived or were stolen by terrorists,” he said. “That really affected her mood. I think she just realized that she won’t be able to save as many people as she had wanted to.”
T’Ser nodded and Barry Nelson followed Wenera. She was just about to do the same when she noticed another Starfleet officer close by. He was not part of the medical staff and he was trying a little too hard to pretend he was not looking her way. “Can I help you?”
“Huh? I’m just –“
“You are watching me, aren’t you?”
“Me?” said Culsten and forced an awkward chuckle. “Of course not. What would give you that idea?”
T’Ser put on a smile and was quite pleased to find that it irritated the young officer even more. “You’ve been keeping to the shadows, Mister. Like somebody who doesn’t want to be seen. You’re not doing a very good job at it.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said and then pretended to look at a patient’s chart.
“Alright. But I tell you right now I don’t appreciate that sneaking around stuff. If you have a problem with me just tell me now and get it out of the way.”
“There is no problem here, Lieutenant,” he said and walked away.
T’Ser was sure he hadn’t left however. She slowly shook her head at the absurdity and then caught up again with the rest of the team.
They had reached the wing of the hospital which held the patients with the smallest chance of survival. Most of them had contracted serious illnesses which their battered immune systems were unable to fight anymore.
T’Ser noticed that even Wenera, who had appeared like an emotional iceberg through most of the tour, had begun to crack at the sight of so many people who could have been helped easily if only they had received the right medications sooner.
“The supplies that were to arrive here a few days ago should have been enough to help all these people,” Wenera said and she put down her padd and administered a pain reliever to a woman in agony. She appeared very thankful indeed and her eyes soon closed to allow for her first calm sleep in days. “Now all we can do is try to make them as comfortable as possible.”
“The New Light cares nothing about the suffering their actions cause. The convoy carrying your supplies was ambushed before it could reach us. The attack hadn’t been designed to steal anything. Instead they killed without abandon and destroyed everything,” the senior doctor said.
Wenera looked up at him, anger brimming in her eyes.
“This New Light,” T’Ser said, “what are their ultimate goals? It can’t be just to destroy your way of life. There must be other motivations driving them.”
“I’m just a doctor,” he said. “I’m not a politician and care little for their reasons to try and kill us. I just do my best to heal those who are lucky enough to escape those butchers with their life.”
T’Ser’s keen eye did not miss the skeptical look in the young technicians face. There was obvious tension here between the military doctors and the civilian staff. “It seems to me that we need to look at the root causes of this conflict if we want to end the suffering you are exposed to.”
“We will not yield to terrorist,” said another doctor with frustration quite evident in his voice.
Wenera was becoming annoyed herself. “And you shouldn’t. Not if their only aim is to cause death and destruction. There is absolutely no justification for this kind of terrorism.”
“One man’s terrorists is another man’s freedom fighter,” said the Vulcan. “You might see them as monsters but you can’t really get the whole picture without trying to understand both sides of the conflict.”
“We’re not here to discuss political issues,” Wenera said.
“No I guess we’re not. Instead we’re going to fix up these people as best as we can so that they can continue to be victims or perpetrators in this ongoing conflict. Does that sum up our overall strategy?”
“I don’t have a strategy, Lieutenant. My responsibility is to try and save anyone who needs my help.”
As the two women stood off against each other the rest of the team was being careful to stay out of their way. The Tiatian doctors looked on with a sense of disbelieve to find those who had come to help them in such disaccord. The few Starfleet officers were equally surprised.
“Maybe that’s the problem then, maybe you should –“
T’Ser was cut off by the sound of a massive explosion which was so forceful that it caused the ground to tremble mightily underneath their feet and flung some of the patients out of their beds.
The doctors scrambled to help their charges.
“What the hell?” said Wenera and looked around, trying to find answer to what had just happened.
“It’s the terrorist, they’re attacking the city,” she heard some of the Tiaitans cry.
“That’s just great,” said Wenera.
A group of Starfleet marines arrived from seemingly nowhere and took on a protective position around the Starfleet officers. “You need to come with us,” a female sergeant told Wenera. She appeared mostly calm but not calm enough to wait around for them to make up their minds. “Now!”
The young medical technician who had spoken out of turn earlier came running towards the Starfleet officers. Distress evident in his trembling voice as he spoke. “I’ve just got the word. They attacked a school in the Bakery district. They have a lot of injuries.”
“Well then that’s where we need to go,” said Wenera and for the first time found T’Ser agreeing with her.
But the sergeant determinately shook her head. “My orders are to get all Starfleet personnel to a safe zone. That includes you.”
There was another explosion. This one felt a lot closer.
“They’ve moved out of the Bakery district now,” reported the tech who was monitoring military channels nearby. “But they might be closing in on our location.”
“The hospital is well protected,” explained one of the doctors, even while he was busy calming down a patient who had started to scream uncontrollably, unnerved by the explosions. “They wouldn’t try to attack it.”
“I’m going to get to that school,” Wenera said with iron-clad determination.
The Tiaitan doctor nodded. “You can take some of our men. They should be able to protect you.”
“Good enough for me.”
But the sergeant was not happy. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that is not an option. My orders allow for no compromises. I am to escort all Starfleet personnel to a designated safe zone immediately.”
It was T’Ser who stepped up to the heavily armed marine, entirely unimpressed by her larger stature. “You need to get our people to a safe zone. We need to get to that school. It looks like we part ways here, Sergeant. Any further delay will endanger both of our goals. It would be illogical for you to cause any more delay.”
T’Ser’s colleagues on Bluefin would have been impressed by her near perfect imitation of a rational Vulcan. It did the trick. The marine sergeant knew better than to try and argue with a Vulcan. She signaled to her people and to the remaining Starfleet officers. “Let’s move out.”
“Doc?”
Wenera turned and was surprised to find Lif Culsten standing behind her. She hadn’t even known that he had been in the hospital. Less surprising perhaps was the worried expression on his face. “Maybe we should go with them.”
The Starfleet doctor grabbed all the medical gear she could carry. “I can’t do that.”
Lif grabbed her by the arm so firmly that it gave her pause. When she looked at him she noticed that he wasn’t looking back at her. Instead his glance seemed to be focused on T’Ser who was helping the techs with the medical supplies they would surely need. “I don’t think you should go with her,” he said quietly.
Wenera didn’t have time for this. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now if you would kindly let go of me.”
He did but only hesitantly.
“You need to get going,” she said as she strapped on a medkit. “Make sure my people are safe. I’m counting on you.”
He nodded. “Be careful.”
“This isn’t my first battlefield, Lif,” she said, managing to sound a lot more confident than she felt. The truth was that she had been in a lot of dangerous situations in her albeit short career as a medic. But she couldn’t really claim a lot of battlefield experience. But as a doctor, one of the advantages of her profession was that she was never in doubt of what exactly she needed to do. It was an almost comforting simplicity.
By the time Wenera and T’Ser were ready, the marines had already evacuated the remaining Starfleet personnel. When they stepped outside and where greeted by the always bright and hot Tiaitan sun Wenera noticed the thick plumes of smoke rising into the air not too far from the hospital.
The hospital itself was brimming with military activity now and yet in the end only two government soldiers were tasked to accompany herself, T’Ser and the two medical technicians. For just a short moment she felt ill at ease at the prospect of leaving the well guarded facility behind to venture into the streets where she had no idea what they would find. For just a short moment she wished she had followed the sergeant’s orders and joined the rest of the evacuees.
It didn’t help that they were unable to contact Xylion or Eagle to let them know of their whereabouts. Their combadges didn’t work in this city and they would have to rely on the Tiaitan’s unreliable radios.
The two soldiers were heavily armed and appeared to be ready to take on an entire regiment of enemy fighters even while their black uniforms and visored helmets gave them a somewhat sinister impression.
Wenera quickly and efficiently shook off all her doubts. She had come here to help these people and that was exactly what she was going to do. The techs that were carrying most of the supplies didn’t show any apparent concerns, even if the younger one had not been able to quite shake his earlier nervousness.
T’Ser was equally determined and even though Wenera had become somewhat vexed by her assertiveness earlier she had developed a newfound respect for the unusual Vulcan for her willingness to put herself in harm’s way. It was her poise under pressure that helped Wenera to feel a lot more comfortable with what they had set out to do than she had any right to be.
Whatever its current capacity however, it was quickly reaching it. Tent after tent contained patients. Most could be divided into two general categories. Those suffering from serious physical traumas which were more likely to be found in a battlefield clinic than in an inner city hospital and those who were suffering sickness and disease brought on by the weakened immune systems of those who did not get enough food or medicine.
Doctor Wenera, her young colleague Doctor Barry Nelson, Lieutenant T’Ser and a group of Eagle’s medical staff were being guided through the hospital by a corps of medical professionals all of which wore crisp military uniforms except for two civilian technicians.
“Unfortunately we do not have the expertise or the resources to assist patients with such severe injuries. We have experimented with different kind of prosthetics but to be honest we don’t have the rehabilitation facilities to assist patients in using them properly,” one of the doctor’s explained, as they hovered over a young man who had lost both his legs.
Doctor Nelson had inquired about their plans for him.
“He will have to rely on a wheelchair,” the doctor continued.
“What roles will he be able to perform once he is reintegrated into society,” asked Wenera who was studying her padd, making notes, even while she spoke.
There was no reply from the group of doctors.
Wenera looked up and into the blank faces of her Tiaitan counterparts. Then she looked down at the young man who had only until recently been a boy. He was excited to see the alien visitors, the first he had ever seen. But there was little hope in those bright eyes. On the contrary, he had made peace with the fact that his life was essentially over.
“Wait,” said T’Ser, “are you telling us that you don’t have any programs to assist the physically disabled?”
One of the medtechs spoke up. He was not much older than the patient and fidgeted nervously with his fingers. “Most people with such obvious handicaps will have to try and make the best of their situation. Some may find employment in fields that don’t require any physical labor but most will end up on their own.”
The other technician, this one older and physically more impressive, threw the younger man a chastising glance as if to remind him that it was not his place to speak.
The doctors were equally unimpressed. “The Brothers will take care of him,” one of them said sharply.
“In other words,” said T’Ser, “he’ll end up in the streets, begging for his next meal.” She turned to look at the Starfleet doctors. “It shouldn’t be too difficult to issue them with cybernetic prosthetics. I’ve heard a lot of good things about them.”
But Wenera shook her head. “Cybernetics are not part of our supply list.”
“Fair enough,” said the Vulcan. “But surely it wouldn’t be too difficult to add them to our supplies. We could replicate the necessary items as and when they are needed.”
Doctor Wenera turned to the Vulcan woman. “Lieutenant, I appreciate your input,” she said even while her facial expressions didn’t quite support her words. “But why don’t you leave the medical assessments to me?” she added and then moved on to the next patient.
T’Ser was not ready to quit. “I know I’m not a doctor but I can see when people suffer. And I believe it is our job here to alleviate suffering, or am I mistaken on that point?”
“You’re not. That man will live,” she said and then held up her padd. “According to the patient register there are at least four hundred people in here who might not if we don’t provide them with the right treatments within the next forty-eight hours. So excuse me if I don’t have the time to consider how people will adapt to their lives once they are released. My primary concern is to get them well enough to be released at all.”
T’Ser glared at the younger woman. Maybe Wenera made a decent point but she didn’t have to be so blatant about it.
Wenera moved on.
“She’s upset,” said Doctor Nelson to T’Ser once her boss and most of the others had walked out of earshot. “Don’t take it personally.”
“I’m not,” she said, half-lying.
“She just found out that more than half of the supplies that were to be delivered here have either never arrived or were stolen by terrorists,” he said. “That really affected her mood. I think she just realized that she won’t be able to save as many people as she had wanted to.”
T’Ser nodded and Barry Nelson followed Wenera. She was just about to do the same when she noticed another Starfleet officer close by. He was not part of the medical staff and he was trying a little too hard to pretend he was not looking her way. “Can I help you?”
“Huh? I’m just –“
“You are watching me, aren’t you?”
“Me?” said Culsten and forced an awkward chuckle. “Of course not. What would give you that idea?”
T’Ser put on a smile and was quite pleased to find that it irritated the young officer even more. “You’ve been keeping to the shadows, Mister. Like somebody who doesn’t want to be seen. You’re not doing a very good job at it.”
“I don’t know what you are talking about,” he said and then pretended to look at a patient’s chart.
“Alright. But I tell you right now I don’t appreciate that sneaking around stuff. If you have a problem with me just tell me now and get it out of the way.”
“There is no problem here, Lieutenant,” he said and walked away.
T’Ser was sure he hadn’t left however. She slowly shook her head at the absurdity and then caught up again with the rest of the team.
They had reached the wing of the hospital which held the patients with the smallest chance of survival. Most of them had contracted serious illnesses which their battered immune systems were unable to fight anymore.
T’Ser noticed that even Wenera, who had appeared like an emotional iceberg through most of the tour, had begun to crack at the sight of so many people who could have been helped easily if only they had received the right medications sooner.
“The supplies that were to arrive here a few days ago should have been enough to help all these people,” Wenera said and she put down her padd and administered a pain reliever to a woman in agony. She appeared very thankful indeed and her eyes soon closed to allow for her first calm sleep in days. “Now all we can do is try to make them as comfortable as possible.”
“The New Light cares nothing about the suffering their actions cause. The convoy carrying your supplies was ambushed before it could reach us. The attack hadn’t been designed to steal anything. Instead they killed without abandon and destroyed everything,” the senior doctor said.
Wenera looked up at him, anger brimming in her eyes.
“This New Light,” T’Ser said, “what are their ultimate goals? It can’t be just to destroy your way of life. There must be other motivations driving them.”
“I’m just a doctor,” he said. “I’m not a politician and care little for their reasons to try and kill us. I just do my best to heal those who are lucky enough to escape those butchers with their life.”
T’Ser’s keen eye did not miss the skeptical look in the young technicians face. There was obvious tension here between the military doctors and the civilian staff. “It seems to me that we need to look at the root causes of this conflict if we want to end the suffering you are exposed to.”
“We will not yield to terrorist,” said another doctor with frustration quite evident in his voice.
Wenera was becoming annoyed herself. “And you shouldn’t. Not if their only aim is to cause death and destruction. There is absolutely no justification for this kind of terrorism.”
“One man’s terrorists is another man’s freedom fighter,” said the Vulcan. “You might see them as monsters but you can’t really get the whole picture without trying to understand both sides of the conflict.”
“We’re not here to discuss political issues,” Wenera said.
“No I guess we’re not. Instead we’re going to fix up these people as best as we can so that they can continue to be victims or perpetrators in this ongoing conflict. Does that sum up our overall strategy?”
“I don’t have a strategy, Lieutenant. My responsibility is to try and save anyone who needs my help.”
As the two women stood off against each other the rest of the team was being careful to stay out of their way. The Tiatian doctors looked on with a sense of disbelieve to find those who had come to help them in such disaccord. The few Starfleet officers were equally surprised.
“Maybe that’s the problem then, maybe you should –“
T’Ser was cut off by the sound of a massive explosion which was so forceful that it caused the ground to tremble mightily underneath their feet and flung some of the patients out of their beds.
The doctors scrambled to help their charges.
“What the hell?” said Wenera and looked around, trying to find answer to what had just happened.
“It’s the terrorist, they’re attacking the city,” she heard some of the Tiaitans cry.
“That’s just great,” said Wenera.
A group of Starfleet marines arrived from seemingly nowhere and took on a protective position around the Starfleet officers. “You need to come with us,” a female sergeant told Wenera. She appeared mostly calm but not calm enough to wait around for them to make up their minds. “Now!”
The young medical technician who had spoken out of turn earlier came running towards the Starfleet officers. Distress evident in his trembling voice as he spoke. “I’ve just got the word. They attacked a school in the Bakery district. They have a lot of injuries.”
“Well then that’s where we need to go,” said Wenera and for the first time found T’Ser agreeing with her.
But the sergeant determinately shook her head. “My orders are to get all Starfleet personnel to a safe zone. That includes you.”
There was another explosion. This one felt a lot closer.
“They’ve moved out of the Bakery district now,” reported the tech who was monitoring military channels nearby. “But they might be closing in on our location.”
“The hospital is well protected,” explained one of the doctors, even while he was busy calming down a patient who had started to scream uncontrollably, unnerved by the explosions. “They wouldn’t try to attack it.”
“I’m going to get to that school,” Wenera said with iron-clad determination.
The Tiaitan doctor nodded. “You can take some of our men. They should be able to protect you.”
“Good enough for me.”
But the sergeant was not happy. “Ma’am, I’m afraid that is not an option. My orders allow for no compromises. I am to escort all Starfleet personnel to a designated safe zone immediately.”
It was T’Ser who stepped up to the heavily armed marine, entirely unimpressed by her larger stature. “You need to get our people to a safe zone. We need to get to that school. It looks like we part ways here, Sergeant. Any further delay will endanger both of our goals. It would be illogical for you to cause any more delay.”
T’Ser’s colleagues on Bluefin would have been impressed by her near perfect imitation of a rational Vulcan. It did the trick. The marine sergeant knew better than to try and argue with a Vulcan. She signaled to her people and to the remaining Starfleet officers. “Let’s move out.”
“Doc?”
Wenera turned and was surprised to find Lif Culsten standing behind her. She hadn’t even known that he had been in the hospital. Less surprising perhaps was the worried expression on his face. “Maybe we should go with them.”
The Starfleet doctor grabbed all the medical gear she could carry. “I can’t do that.”
Lif grabbed her by the arm so firmly that it gave her pause. When she looked at him she noticed that he wasn’t looking back at her. Instead his glance seemed to be focused on T’Ser who was helping the techs with the medical supplies they would surely need. “I don’t think you should go with her,” he said quietly.
Wenera didn’t have time for this. “Don’t be ridiculous. Now if you would kindly let go of me.”
He did but only hesitantly.
“You need to get going,” she said as she strapped on a medkit. “Make sure my people are safe. I’m counting on you.”
He nodded. “Be careful.”
“This isn’t my first battlefield, Lif,” she said, managing to sound a lot more confident than she felt. The truth was that she had been in a lot of dangerous situations in her albeit short career as a medic. But she couldn’t really claim a lot of battlefield experience. But as a doctor, one of the advantages of her profession was that she was never in doubt of what exactly she needed to do. It was an almost comforting simplicity.
By the time Wenera and T’Ser were ready, the marines had already evacuated the remaining Starfleet personnel. When they stepped outside and where greeted by the always bright and hot Tiaitan sun Wenera noticed the thick plumes of smoke rising into the air not too far from the hospital.
The hospital itself was brimming with military activity now and yet in the end only two government soldiers were tasked to accompany herself, T’Ser and the two medical technicians. For just a short moment she felt ill at ease at the prospect of leaving the well guarded facility behind to venture into the streets where she had no idea what they would find. For just a short moment she wished she had followed the sergeant’s orders and joined the rest of the evacuees.
It didn’t help that they were unable to contact Xylion or Eagle to let them know of their whereabouts. Their combadges didn’t work in this city and they would have to rely on the Tiaitan’s unreliable radios.
The two soldiers were heavily armed and appeared to be ready to take on an entire regiment of enemy fighters even while their black uniforms and visored helmets gave them a somewhat sinister impression.
Wenera quickly and efficiently shook off all her doubts. She had come here to help these people and that was exactly what she was going to do. The techs that were carrying most of the supplies didn’t show any apparent concerns, even if the younger one had not been able to quite shake his earlier nervousness.
T’Ser was equally determined and even though Wenera had become somewhat vexed by her assertiveness earlier she had developed a newfound respect for the unusual Vulcan for her willingness to put herself in harm’s way. It was her poise under pressure that helped Wenera to feel a lot more comfortable with what they had set out to do than she had any right to be.
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