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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle
Last post by Eirual -
[Kelistina Kavat Droga | Deck 06 | Vector 01 | “Helmet”]
ATTN: All Active writers

To say she was tired was an extreme understatement. Kelistina had been working with the crew making repairs as the battle raged. Frustrated in the knowledge that she was not nearly trained enough on this ship and it’s systems to do more that patch holes. More than a few times it had been her height that held her from getting to where the damage was. As it was, her unfamiliarity with the Theurgy’s equipment made her question if her skills were good enough to keep this ship and her new friends alive even as she was knocked off her feet in the middle of sealing a bulkhead.

Death was evident in many places. She’d had to pass bodies that no longer resembled a living being as she made her way through damaged corridors and rubble to get to a more critically damaged area. Lugging the assigned tool kit over the debris. She couldn’t remember how many hours she’d been on her feet, but it felt like forever. At last she was returning to the Maintenance area to return the borrowed tool kit. Someone else would probably be needing it soon.
Looking around at the chaos even in this area saddened her further. She set the tool kit near the storage area then leaned against the wall. She didn’t really know who to tell that she was back. All she remembered was someone handing her the kit and a remark about hoping she could get the work done fast. In the heat of the battle and the chaotic aftermath of the intrusion that had already taken lives, she was still wearing that outfit she’d made. But it looked more like she had covered herself in rags. Burn holes and rips covered a good portion of it, since it was definitely not created as something to work in. She let out a long tired breath as she let her body slide down the wall, tiredly pulling her legs close and wrapping her arms around them.  She’d rest here, just for a little bit. Then she would try to find her friend Ny-Sa-Ri. She hoped she would find her alive and well. Her head slowly fell to rest on her knees as her exhaustion overcame her and the world around her faded to black.



[ENS Mia Dunne  |Main Sickbay |Vector 2 |USS Theurgy ]

Somehow she was still walking. After her injuries during the Hobus mission she didn’t think she could feel more pain. She’d been so wrong. As soon as they had returned to the triangle she had been doing what she could to assist. Her task was looking for injured to be sent for care. Unfortunately, she’d also found many that hadn’t survived, Romulans, Klingons and Theurgy crew. The pain was deep in her soul. Not a physical ache that could be treated quickly, but an emotional turmoil at the loss of so many. How many of her friends would be listed on the memorial wall? She didn’t even want to think about that.
Now she was in sickbay, assisting in the care of the wounded as much as her limited skills would allow. She longed to go back to the solitude and quiet of the science labs. She walked amid the groans and cries of the wounded on the beds, the chairs and some even on the floor. Too many, way too many for the surviving medical staff to deal with. So here she was, walking through the battle worn wounded, offering what aid she could, while knowing she wasn’t much help at all.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi S: [Day 03 | 0255] The Cost of Continuity
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Deck 01 | Executive Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy ] @joshs1000

Cross watched Frost go without calling after him, dark eyes following the man’s retreating back until the doors slid shut with a muted hiss. For a moment, the office felt quieter—emptier—despite the low thrum of systems and the ever-present scent of disinfectant and scorched circuitry. He exhaled slowly through his nose.

Confident. Sharp. Arrogant, he assessed clinically. Which means he’ll either last… or burn out spectacularly.

His gaze drifted back to the PADD nearest his prosthetic hand, fingers resting against its edge without activating it. Science chiefs aboard Theurgy had developed a disturbingly short half-life of late—transfers, casualties, reassignment, or worse. Brilliant minds chewed up by circumstance and war before they ever had time to leave a mark.

Here’s hoping you stick around longer than the others, he thought, not unkindly. The ship needed continuity almost as much as it needed hull plating and power.

Cross was just turning back toward the desk, intent on burying himself once more in reports, when the doorway dimmed. Not metaphorically. The light from the corridor was partially eclipsed by a massive presence, and Cross instinctively looked up. Lok filled the threshold.

At 2.08 meters tall, the Ferasan engineer was impossible to miss—broad shoulders brushing the doorframe, powerful digitigrade legs planted with relaxed solidity, striped tail swaying lazily behind him. Blue eyes, warm but alert, met Cross’s gaze beneath the short-trimmed mane that framed his face. His mechanic’s coveralls bore the marks of recent, relentless work, and the faint scent of machine oil clung to him like a second skin.

Cross straightened slightly. Whatever fatigue pressed at his bones, it didn’t dull his appreciation for competence—and Lok radiated it.

“Commander Lok,” Cross said evenly. “Come in.”

He gestured inside, waiting for the Ferasan to duck through before the doors sealed again. As Lok entered, Cross turned back to his desk, shuffling through the stacks of PADDs with brisk efficiency until he found the one he wanted. He activated it, scanned the contents once more to confirm, then looked back up.

“As of fifteen minutes ago,” Cross began without preamble, “you’ve been reassigned.” He held the PADD up just long enough for the transfer order to be visible. “You’re now Chief of the Deck. For the time being, you’ll be pulling double duty—Head of Propulsion and Chief of the Deck—until the ship stabilizes and we can reshuffle personnel to better match operational needs. That includes replacements, assuming Starfleet can spare any.” His mouth tightened. “Which I am not counting on in the near term.”

Cross set the PADD down and leaned back against the desk, folding his arms—organic hand resting lightly against the prosthetic.

“I’ve just finished reviewing the latest readiness report,” he continued bluntly. “We currently have eight launch-worthy craft.” A beat. “That number is unacceptable.”

His eyes locked onto Lok’s, intensity sharpening. “We are on the brink of things going completely to hell. If they do, eight fighters won’t keep this ship alive. I need propulsion, flight support, and deck operations running at peak efficiency—and I need them running now.” There was no attempt to soften what came next. “I need you operating without sleep if necessary. Without regular meals, if it comes to that. Same as the rest of us. We’ll fix offensive capability later. Right now, survival and defensibility come first.”

Cross studied Lok for a moment, measuring not muscle but resolve. “Questions?”

As he spoke, his gaze briefly shifted past Lok’s shoulder, drawn to another figure standing rigidly at attention in the corridor beyond—another large man, waiting patiently. Cross hadn’t met him face to face, but recognition sparked nonetheless. He remembered that voice on comms during the battle. Calm. Decisive. Effective under fire. The bearing matched the reports. Matched the actions. That, at least, brought a flicker of grim satisfaction.

Cross’s attention returned to Lok, expression steady.
3
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi S: [Day 03 | 0255] The Cost of Continuity
Last post by Nesota Kynnovan -
[Lieutenant Dr. Nathan Frost, Ph.D. | Deck 01 | Executive Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy]
[Attn: @Ellen Fitz]

As the Commander rose from his chair, Frost happened to notice the man’s prosthetic hand and briefly wondered whether that was a result of the recent battle as well, but chose not to comment on it. Instead, as the Vulcan welcomed him aboard, Frost simply replied with a curt nod and a smile.

When Commander Frost pulled up the summary schematic, Frost turned his blue eyes to look at the amber- and red coloured sections while the Commander began to present him with a preliminary damage report. The Canadian Immunologist made sure to take notes on the PADD in his hand, first typing blind but soon turning his attention to the small tablet. The touchscreen display of the device made soft tapping sounds with every touch, which gave away the fast pace of Frost’s typing as he summarized the damage report. He occasionally shifted his gaze back to the summary schematic as it shifted to different areas of the ship, but Frost’s facial expression became increasingly concerned each time he did so; the reddish hue that emanated from the display did little to hide the fact and instead even accentuated it.

And then, just like that, the summary schematic faded and Frost’s blue eyes met the paler blues of Commander Cross. While the preliminary damage report was done, the Canadian’s mind was already processing the information; prioritizing what needed to be done immediately and what could -potentially- wait. The one thing that worried him above all else was the improbable fact that Chemistry, Xenobiology and Cybernetics were completely intact; there was nothing in the Commander’s preliminary report that indicated whether this was because the laboratory was actually intact or because no one had reported back with an accurate, in-depth assessment yet. And how could they? Regardless, that made it an unknown factor to Frost and, given the amount of hazardous materials in that particular laboratory, definitely a priority.

Frost listened to Commander Frost as the Vulcan spoke up once more, explaining that anything dangerous had to be reported, and Frost presented the man with a curt nod in reply. When the Commander added that he expected his science staff to move quickly and adapt, Frost finally smiled again and spoke. ”It’s what I do best.” The Canadian accent of his voice and the smile on his face almost managed to hide the arrogant tone. ”I’ll first check the laboratories myself to make an accurate assessment and then assemble the Science Staff to address the issues at hand.” While Frost hadn’t been able to read up on every single member of the Science Department, he had managed to quickly scan through the dossiers of the staff earlier; he had no idea how capable any of them actually were, but he figured that he would find out soon enough.

Just like that, with those few arrogant words, Frost turned around on his right heel and quickly made his way out of the office, headed straight for the Chemistry, Xenobiology and Cybernetics Laboratory.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi: S [Day 03 | 0145] By these wounds...
Last post by Eden -
Lt. JG Callax Valin | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] @Ellen Fitz @Dumedion
[Show/Hide]
Fear subsided quickly once the wolf monster introduced themselves, albeit just their training and credentials for taking care of him. It did not take long for Cal to take in his surroundings and conclude that he was 1) alive and 2) in sickbay on board the USS Theurgy. That conclusion was confirmed by the appearance of Arven who Cal recognized immediately. Even if Cal could not see, he would have known the doctor was there by their ever cheerful bedside manner.

That solved the question of whether he was in immediate danger. As far as safety, he was probably in the safest place he could be given his present condition. Speaking of his condition... it was only then that Cal began to take measure of his present condition.

It was bad.

He did not need to be a medical professional to determine that. Beyond his general dislike of sickbay, he was really beat up. Legs a mess, arm burned, miscellaneous other scrapes, cuts, and other breaks. All courtesy of that damned Romulan fighter, no doubt. They had scored one too many lucky hits on his Valkyrie which he was just remembering now was a flaming heap of metal.

And the others?

"What happened to the rest of my flight?"

The words were spoken with painful effort, as if his lungs could not carry enough air to form the words. He did not apologize for his previous outburst. He did not much care. If apologies needed to be made they would be made later if he managed to live to make them.

"What is our status?"

He coughed up blood as he spoke, directing the spray to his side away from the doctor.

Was the battle still underway? Had they won? Or was he looking at the remnants of a defeated crew?
5
Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi S: [Day 03 | 0255] The Cost of Continuity
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[ Lt. Cmdr. Cross | Deck 01 | Executive Officer’s Office | USS Theurgy ] @Nesota Kynnovan

Cross lifted his gaze as Frost entered, dark eyes sharpening with immediate assessment rather than ceremony. The man’s posture, his clipped tone, the already-active PADD—none of it escaped notice. Useful. Impatient, but useful. Cross had no time for easing people in.

He rose from the chair—not to loom, but to meet Frost on equal footing—resting his prosthetic hand lightly against the edge of the desk. The faint servomotor whine was barely audible beneath the ship’s ambient hum.

“Doctor Frost,” he acknowledged evenly. “Welcome aboard Theurgy. I wish your arrival circumstances were… less instructive.”

At the question about the labs, Cross exhaled through his nose and tapped a control on the desk, flicking a summary schematic into the air between them. Sections glowed amber and red across multiple decks.

“You’re correct to be concerned,” he said. “We’re still compiling full assessments, but I can give you the current state as we understand it.”

His finger traced the first highlighted section.

“Archaeology and Geology took internal damage rather than hull breach. Several specimens were compromised during the battle—apparently, some samples recovered on an older mission reacted poorly to sustained vibration and power fluctuation. Miniature internal detonations.” His mouth tightened slightly. “They damaged a portion of the lab from the inside out. Containment is holding now, but we’ve sealed off the affected section pending your people’s evaluation.”

Another gesture shifted the display.

“Hydroponics was hit harder. Environmental controls failed during the engagement, and parts of the system were outright destroyed. Many specimens are in critical condition. Triage is ongoing, but losses are expected unless we can restore stable conditions quickly.”

Amber bled into red as he continued.

“Xenozoology is… a problem.” There was no embellishment, just blunt fact. “Several specimens escaped during power loss. Most have been recaptured. One remains unaccounted for—a burrowing, mole-like organism with a documented preference for circuitry. Engineering has been alerted, and Security is sweeping maintenance access ways, but I won’t sugarcoat it: that one concerns me.”

The display shifted again, calmer colors for the moment.

“Physics reports no obvious damage,” Cross said, then paused. “Which, given the state of the ship, makes me suspicious. Assume latent issues until proven otherwise. And temporal is always a headache is assume it is an even bigger headache at this point.”

Another tap.

“Chemistry, Xenobiology, and Cybernetics are, improbably, intact. No explosions, no contamination, no major losses reported so far.” A faint, humorless huff escaped him. “Make of that what you will.”

He rotated the schematic one final time.

“Stellar Cartography will need full realignment. Sensor calibration was thrown off across the board during the battle. Data’s intact, but accuracy is currently… theoretical.”

And finally:

“Arboretum sustained structural and environmental damage. Displays will need repair, and a fair amount of landscaping, once we’re no longer prioritizing life support elsewhere.”

Cross let the display fade and met Frost’s eyes squarely.

“In short, Doctor, you have work. A great deal of it. You have authority to requisition personnel and resources as needed—within reason—and I want status updates routed through my office until we stabilize.” His tone softened only a fraction. “If something is about to become dangerous, I need to know before it explodes, escapes, or eats the ship.”

A beat.

“And Doctor?” he added. “Despite appearances, Theurgy is still standing because people move quickly and adapt. I expect the same from my science staff.”

He inclined his head once—dismissal and welcome in equal measure.

“Get started.”
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi: S [Day 03 | 0145] By these wounds...
Last post by Ellen Fitz -
[Ehfva Feynri | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | USS Theurgy] @Eden @Dumedion

“What the fuck are you?”

Of course.

From his perspective, he had awakened from paradise into a nightmare. From clouds into claws.

He thrashed, terror overwhelming pain, his body straining against restraints meant to protect him, not imprison him. When his legs failed to respond, the fear sharpened into something raw and animal. One arm flailed weakly, a punch thrown more in desperation than threat.

Ehfva stepped back at once.

The movement was careful and deliberate—slow enough not to provoke. She lifted her hands slightly, claws visible but spread, empty. Blood—Romulan blood, dried now—still stained her fur and skin despite her attempts to clean herself before entering Sickbay. She was acutely aware of it in that moment, a grotesque punctuation she could not erase.

Her voice, when she spoke, came out fractured and rough, dragged through a throat that could not decide what shape it wanted to be.

“Easy,” she said, each syllable distorted, threaded with a faint growl she could not fully suppress. She hated that. “You… are safe. Sickbay. USS Theurgy.”

His gaze fixed on her face—her wrong jaw, her fangs, the uneven symmetry of her eyes—and the terror spiked again.

She swallowed and forced herself to continue.

“I am… corpsman-trained. Volunteering.” A pause, then softer—not apologetic, but honest. “I know I look… alarming.”

Doctor Leux arrived like a storm front, his presence sharp and unmistakable even before his voice cut through the chaos. Ehfva did not bristle at his tone or his brusque assumption of control. If anything, relief loosened something tight in her chest.

Good. Someone else could take this now.

She relinquished the tricorder without protest as he took it from her, stepping aside immediately to give him space. She remained still while he assessed her work—head bowed slightly, posture controlled—accepting judgment without flinch.

“You stabilized him. Well—mostly.”

The words were not praise, but they were not condemnation either. She accepted them as they were.

When Leux told her he would see to her later, that she looked “bloody awful,” she inclined her head in acknowledgment. She had no energy left to argue, and no part of her disagreed.

As he turned back to the pilot—barking orders, shifting neural blocks, demanding equipment—Ehfva moved automatically to assist when asked. She retrieved supplies, checked bins, answered questions with clipped efficiency. She did not look at the pilot unless necessary. She did not want to see his fear reflected back at her.

Ehfva did not retreat.

Where another might have stepped back under the weight of scrutiny, she straightened instead, planting her boots more firmly against the deck as if the ship itself were demanding proof that she belonged.

She remained exactly where she was, blood—fresh and dried alike—streaked across her armor and skin. Romulan green stood out starkly against the dark fabric. It was not something she tried to hide. If anything, she carried it openly, a silent record of what she had already done to keep the ship standing.

Her gaze stayed level with Leux’s, steady and unflinching, the focus of a predator long after the hunt had ended.

“The blood isn’t mine,” she said calmly, as if delivering a clinical report rather than explaining the aftermath of violence. “It belongs to enemies who won’t be getting back up. Aside from the damage the Savi caused, I’m unharmed.” She gestured briefly to herself, then back to him. “That’s why I’m here. I’m volunteering to support until things stabilize. You can revisit my condition once you’re no longer carrying this situation alone.”

She stepped closer—not to crowd him, not to intimidate, but close enough to be useful—and pressed a compact tissue regenerator into his hand before he could ask. Almost immediately, a second device followed, placed with deliberate care, her timing precise.

“You’ll need this for his legs,” she added, already anticipating the need.

There was no bravado in her posture, and no apology either. Only resolve, sharpened by the violence she had already committed and survived.

She was not asking for trust. She was proving she was worth it by standing her ground.
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi 2 [ D02 | 2300 hrs.] All Squared up at the Triangle
Last post by Nolan -
[ PO2 Kythalie Benmual | Deck 7 | Security center | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ]

The screen stared back at her as Kythalie tapped on the console to submit het after action report. She looked up over the console and around her as the security center was buzzing with activity. She closed her eyes for a minute in order to focus once more as she began to fill in the rest of the paperwork. She had a backlog of reports to fill in from the past few days. Observations and the likes that had to be written down for future references or if needed to be added to a complaint form if needed.

She moved her left hand over her side as it still hurted a little after the skirmish. Medical had cleared her, though the pain still lingered a little. It would fade over the next few hours or days. She knew that, it was nothing to worry about. Yet in the back of her head, she was thinking of how close he had gotten to kicking the bucket. he eyes continued to stare at the console before her. Her thoughts running through her head whilst she continued to tap away at the console. She was both processing her paperwork as well as the events that had happened and were still going on. She was just creating some order now that she had the time for it in her head.

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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: C3: S [Day 2 19:45] Tis Not Goodbye...
Last post by Stegro88 -
[ Lt. T'Less | Guest Quarters | Deck 06 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy ] Attn: @P.C. Haring
[Show/Hide]

T’Less’s artificial heart skipped a beat, several times, as she listened to what Reggie was saying; first from anticipation and hope and then from shock and disbelief. Had she really heard the Betazoid’s words correctly? Could she trust her own hearing and mind? Should she have Thea replay the last few minutes of them in the Guest Quarter’s so that she could review it and confirm if what she had heard was correct?

All those thoughts and more rushed through the Vulcan’s head as Reggie spoke, with only the expectant look on her face and her final words ringing in T’Less’s pointed ears breaking her from her shocked stupor. What should she say? Yes, obviously, but how? Too much and she might scare her away. Too little and Reggie might not thing she was being serious.

“Us is good,” T’Less stammered out as her mind revolved, the words making her thoughts recoil at the unconsidered nature of them.  “I mean, I would like to see if there could be an ‘us’ too,” T’Less admitted honestly. “I am Vulcan, and we are known to not show emotion, especially after having undertaken the Kolinahr. But my past has, made that an unachievable goal for, for reasons to long to go into now. I once considered that a burden, a wound that would forever haunt me. Weaken me,” she admitted.

“But now, with you, here, I don’t feel that way. I want to experience love with you. To express myself with you, for you,” T’Less proclaimed forcefully, her tone shifting around as her emotions roiled under the still surface of her mind.

“I want to feel, with you. If you’ll have me.”

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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: EP2 BTS | D03 | 0003 hrs] Flammis Acribus Addictis
Last post by RyeTanker -
[Lieutenant Commander Frank Arnold | Main Engineering | Deck 25 | Vector 03 | USS Theurgy]

Frank ducked as a green bolt sizzled passed his head.  Where the hell was rest of security? He thought to himself as he kept low and looked around for something.  His eyes stopped for a brief eternal moment.  There!  It was his phaser and and his body tensed as he prepared to make a lunge to grab the weapon.  He wasn't the best shot, but there didn't seem to be anyone else.  Then a clipped voice that seemed to ooze sensuality despite its best efforts came over the intercom.  "Engineering!  Standby and cover yourselves!!"  No sooner had the voice finished then his ears picked up the ringing of a complete transport cycle.  Desperate blue eyes looked up for a moment and he saw alloy cylinders gripped in the throes of physics come tumbling down out of thin air.  His brain had a moment to recognize the shape of a standard Starfleet grenade as it fell to around standing head height and he braced for what he thought would be a terrible explosion that would probably smash Azrin's head to strawberry jam.

It didn't quite though as the flash grenades went off and for a brief moment, Main Engineering was lit brighter than the proverbial big bang that overloaded optic nerves and forced screams of ocular agony across the compartment.  Even squeezing ones eyes shut seemed to offer little to no protection for the Chief as he saw the red of his own flesh, then blackness.  And as suddenly as the assault had started, it was over; and though for a moment, he could not see, he could hear, and it was the sound of someone who had chosen violence.

[Lt (JG) XamotZark zh’Ptrell (Lt. Zark)]

Lieutenant Zark had heard the call and determined there was a high risk, but quite efficient way of dealing with the impromptu hostage situation.  It had taken handing over of the transport process to Thea, but the AI had handled the transport flawlessly and Zark was deposited right behind the Romulan that was trying to drag the struggling Trill away.  Specialized situation called for specialized tools and the Andorian's tool of choice quickly came up as she grabbed the surprised Romulan by the pointy ear and brutally pulled his head to one side with the assisted force of her exosuit.  The Romulan involuntarily screamed at the abuse as he tried to get away from the sudden that was trying to tear his head off. A hypospray loaded with Melorazine touched his neck and a practised hand depressed the trigger injecting the Romulan Marin with 40ccs of the drug, double what was called for normally.  The Andorian cared little if it was an over dose, her own came first.

Her hand quickly let go of the Romulan's head as he went limp to lala land and she worked to cushion his fall while making sure Azrin didn't get crushed in the process.  This was incidental as the hand holding the hypospray dropped it and quickly pulled her phaser pulse pistol out.  The laser targeting system lined up with a recovering Marine and she pulled the trigger. Chief Prince's team pushed harder in a blaze of fire and fury as they stormed the compartment.  Screams of phasers replaced the screams of the optically assaulted as the security team rushed in. 

Her sense and sensors tugged her head upwards and she saw something that sent a chill through her blue body as a pair of Romulans were visible on the upper catwalk near the mean reactor.  Her hand snapped up and she fired a burst at one Romulan and he screamed as he lost control of his footing and fell over the railing to the deck below.  The other Marine flinched in surprise and he looked down.  Zark's instincts kicked in and she knew it wasn't her that he saw.  "Azrin! Watch out!"  Zark cried out as she desperately vaulted over the engineer.  Sparks ignited around her and the Andorian yelped in pain as her back was slammed with energy, almost crushing the petite Trill under her.  Her nerves screamed as damage codes blared in her HUD, and the Andorian's will worked to overcome the pain lancing her back. With a groan, she flipped over and aimed up.  Arctic blue-green eyes met surprised brown ones and the Zhen silently snarled as she fired a burst that took the Marine in the head and knocked him on his back, maybe unconscious, but most likely dead.  A pair of maximum stun phaser bolts could do that.

The following silence was deafening and Zark's heart beat pounded in her ears. She checked her sensors and her head snapped around looking for more signs of battle. The comm chirp broke her concentration with Chief Prince's voice. "Ma'am, compartment secure. We're cuffing the prisoners." Zark nodded as she stood up and grabbed Azrin to help her up. "Okay. Get the medics in. Let them know, our people first." There was a pause as the security officer digested the cold logic before acknowledging the order.

The combat medic stretched gingerly as she made her way towards central engineering console. Chief Arnold helped up a colleague and began barking orders for everyone to get back to their stations. There was something about power flows and redirecting something technical for engineering. She ignored it as she made her way to a body, and the on board sensors gave her the details. The Andorian sighed as she turned the body over. The humans face was slack, and her eyes screwed shut in terror. At least it was quick, but having your heart and lungs emulsified would do that. Zark unclipped the dead woman's combadge and opened her mouth just enough so the badge would stand up. Good night Robyn. Your struggle is at an end. The Zhen told herself.  A couple of medics looked at the body and did a quick scan confirming the death and moved on.

Almost absent-minded Zark tapped the comm button on her LCARS padd. "Zark to security, Main Engineering is secure."  The Zhen took a moment to breathe as called up the ship's schematics to see where she was needed next. Her planning was interrupted by a serious firm voice. "Lieutenant zh’Ptrell, acknowledged. We're going to close and do a personnel transfer. I'm coming back to deal with the rest of the boarders. I need you to head back to the security centre. Lieutenant Madsen will give you the details."  Zark blinked at the change in situation. "Affirmative, I'll head back the security centre when I'm done here. Zark out."  The Andorian's brow furrowed at the evolving situation. "Oh Enyd, what have you gotten us into now?" Zark murmured to herself as she pulled a set of cuffs out and moved towards a Romulan who appeared to be stirring.

~FIN~
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Episode 02: Cosmic Imperative / Re: Epi: S [Day 03 | 0145] By these wounds...
Last post by Dumedion -
[LT Arven Leux | Main Sickbay | Deck 11 | Vector 02 | USS Theurgy] Attn: @Ellen Fitz @Eden
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Arven finished wrapping the thigh he'd just extracted a rather nasty bit of shrapnel from with an exhausted sigh, while he ignored the patient's groaning. Her name escaped him; the Doctor couldn’t really be bothered with it, anyway - yet she wore a single dull pip on a grime-caked golden collar and was rather striking, minus all the blood. Luex blinked at her, then realized she'd asked a question, and wasn’t sure how long he'd sat there looking at the curves of her snug uniform, either.

“Frightfully sorry. Come again?”

The ensign, with streaks of blood in her rats-nest of unkempt hair, grit her teeth as she tried to sit up. Admirably, she was successful, which prompted the Doctor to lean in from where he sat. In the chaos going on around them, he doubted whatever she desired to say could be heard by anyone other than them, but he played along out of bone tired weariness.

“I said, my ass still hurts – around the entrance – should I be worried?”

This bloody ship. Leux’ dark brows rose as he blinked again, slowly, then got to his feet with a grunt of effort. “Right, first: its an exit, not an entrance,” he answered the question in a tired monotone. “Turn the traffic around, see if that helps,” the Doctor added as he moved on to the next patient. Ensign butt-pain looked aghast and pissed off in equal measure, but Arven’s attention was already elsewhere.

“Doctor,” a nurse called out suddenly, just as Arven had started scanning the next biobed occupant. “Command is still waiting for updated casualty lists.”

“I'm busy,” Luex growled, prepping a hypo.

“Sir?”

“They can bloody well count themselves!” He barked, louder, then jabbed the hypo into the thigh meat of an unconscious Crewman, the majority of his face wrapped up in a patchwork of bloody bandages and synth-skin. Then he ran a hand over his face, marking the unfamiliar roughness of the dark stubble on his cheeks and chin. Shut it – do your damned job, he scolded himself, then turned to the nurse with a sigh. “Give them the numbers we have, emphasize the fact that these are estimates. I'll update the figures when I can.”

A sudden ruckus across the ward, from near the entrance to the ICU, drew his attention and a frown. The scene wasn’t so out of place: a patient, mauled and bloody, was in the process of being tended to. However, (and Arven had to blink and shake his head at the sight of who was attending said patient) there was clearly something amiss. Questions sprang to his mind as the Doctor moved to intervene – which he promptly blurted out without filter or care - he simply couldn’t muster the energy to muzzle himself:

“Oi! Get back – walking wounded are getting seen outside at the aid station. How’d you get in here?” – was aimed at the Vulpinian.

“Oh do shut it - she didn’t do anything to you that I won’t make worse if you don’t calm down,” – was aimed at Mr. Mangled-Legs.

“Somebody get me the status on OR 2!” – was shouted at everyone after he glanced over the man’s injuries.

“Where’s your bloody chart,” – was aimed at no one, as Arven searched for a second, then discarded the attempt. “Hell with it,” he added, then snatched the tricorder from wolf-lady and looked it over.

“You stabilized him? Well, mostly,” Luex muttered, arching a brow at the drooling, blood-flecked visage of the Vulpinian. His tone changed then, only becoming slightly less ragged and slightly more clinical. “I’ll see to you once I get him sealed up. You look bloody awful.”

Duly ignoring both of their reactions, Arven proceeded to glove up – the man had third degree burns to his hands and arms that needed regeneration – something he could do while the OR was being prepped and sterilized.

A quick tap on the biobed shifted the neural block higher up along the patient’s body, to the base of his neck – rendering him effectively numb from the excruciating pain – before he started rummaging around under the bed with an incoherent grumble. A few seconds later, Arven’s head and shoulders popped up suddenly.

“Is there a tissue regenerator on your side? In the storage bin under the bed? I cant find anything over here,” he asked wolf-lady.

"OR 2 - two minutes," a nurse called out from down near the wreckage of reception and quarantine.

"Tell Vi I'm bumping this gent up the line," Arven shouted back over his shoulder, then popped the tendons in his neck with a grunt before returning his tired eyes to the task at hand. He poked around the ragged remains of the man's legs while he waited impatiently. "Fucking hell, mate. How'd you end up in such a state?"

He didnt even realize he'd just spoken aloud.
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