Aftershocks
Posted on Wed Dec 18th, 2024 @ 6:23pm by Lieutenant Gunnar Arnason & Lieutenant Commander Lylja Tigerlilly & Lieutenant Jai & Captain Min Seong & Skili VaTemishon
1,845 words; about a 9 minute read
Mission: Terrorpin
Gunnar waded through the chaos of the hospital, trying to keep it somewhat controlled. There had been a small flood of wounded - fractures, lacerations, blunt force trauma - the sort of injuries he knew from experience typically accompanied earthquakes. It had been limited so far by the fact that the quake hadn't been major and most people had still been in bed. 'Small blessings' as the head nurse back at the Academy used to say.
What wasn't a blessing were all the people that weren't injured but just shaken. Normally he'd be the first to offer care and reassurance, but in the midst of a flood actual injuries...
"Roji," he called as he passed through triage, "Start funneling anyone mobile and cleared of head injury to observation. Notify Counseling to meet people there."
He'd barely passed to next patient when felt the beginning of the tremor. "Brace!" he yelled. Despite bracing himself, he nearly stumbled. The original quake hadn't been that bad. His eyes returned to the emergency lights. No, no alert signaling an attack. There was no time for theorizing what was causing heavier aftershocks. A harder quake later in the day would mean another flood on injured.
"Take names of anyone with first aid training," he told the nearest nurse. "We're going to need to start moving minor injuries to volunteer stations."
Skili came in, her long coat flapping behind her. She was carrying a teenager with a fractured and bloody right leg. Her guitar case was slung over her back. "We need help, this one had a tool case come down on his leg. I used a tourniquet to stop him from bleeding out but he is going into shock."
"Cart!" Gunnar yelled, pointing to the new arrival even as he ran over, activating the scanner at the door to check there wasn't damage beyond what was evident. "We've got him," he assured, lifting the patient from the cart arrived and carefully placing the teen on it. He briefly checked the tourniquet then applied a hypo for pain and shock. "Compound fracture, severe lacerations, blood loss," he told the man with the cart. "I've treated for shock; there's a tourniquet - mark the time and get him to MacQuire. Go."
With a nod, the medic steered the cart toward surgery. Gunnar glanced at the door, but seeing no other emergencies arriving, took a moment to speak to the woman who'd brought that one in. "Don't worry, Dr. MacQuire is good. You did well with the tourniquet. He should be okay."
"Good," Skili said, finding a place to clean her hands. "I have a level two first aid rating, where can I help?"
"Thank you," he replied, smiling. "The volunteer station is over to the left there. But with level 2 rating, we you could help with more than basic care. We have a lot of fractures and not enough osteoregens so we could use extra hands for setting and temporary casts."
"On it," Skili said and paused. "Is there someplace I can stow my guitar?" she said swinging the case down from her back. "It is bound to get in the way."
"Certainly. There's a coat room over there," he replied, pointing the way. "In fact, you might want to stow the long coat too to keep it -"
The suddenly ground shook again. Hard. Gunnar barely kept his feet despite an instinctive step to brace.
A furred hand came out from behind the nurse's station, with the rest of Cireve's quiet form following after to help Gunnar stay upright. Once she made sure he was not going to fall over, she gave him a satisfied pat on the shoulder.
Then, she turned to Skili. "I can take your personal items to the room. We are going to have a few people down the hall who are in more immediate need of what you can offer."
Skili rode out the shockwave with the practice of one who had served aboard a warship. She handed over her case and shrugged out of her coat, offering it as well. "Thank you," she said with a nod. She looked to Gunnar, "Point me to where I can help."
Recovering quickly once both starship and childhood reflexes kicked in, Gunnar gestured toward a ward packed with waiting patients. "This way. Temporary casts are there," he said, pointing to a stack of supplies. "Assess, stabilize, call one of the hospital staff if there's anything you don't feel confident to handle."
"Mission accepted," said Skili as she struck her fist to her chest in a Klingon salute and turned to the task at hand.
"Qatlho’[thank you]," he replied with a nod, the Klingonese he'd once picked up coming automatically at seeing the salute. Reasonably sure she'd find her stride, he turned back to the increasingly crowded entrance.
Cireve had silently returned from her drop off. "When I arrived a couple months ago, I would not have expected an earthquake, let alone how many we have had now." She gestured toward a pair of nurses to start intake on the newest batch of patients near the entrance. Most seemed to have minor scrapes and bruises, but the Caitian could spot some more serious injuries from where she stood. There would be little time for pleasantries for those patients. "Luckily, I believe we've received word that we have the go ahead to take over some of the ancillary buildings nearby if this begins to get much more ... Intense."
"Thank you," Gunnar said. "We're going to need-"
**RUMBLE** The ground shook again - hard! Carts overturned and supplies went flying, along with a few people.
Gunnar caught himself and then reached to steady one of folks who'd been milling around what had been their waiting room and was swiftly becoming a annex for triage. "Best to sit if you don't have to be up," he advised him. "Or better yet, wait outside." He'd tried to say it politely, but it came out a bit pointed.
=/\= Warehouse to Hospital, we have crush injuries! Can you receive direct transport? =/\=
Gunnar almost gave an affrimative, but fortunately looked toward the transport site before replying. "Hey! Off the transport pad! We have incoming!"
That hadn't been the least bit polite or even measured, and was so outside his usual normal manner that the people it was directed at ran, meaning that the space was cleared in moments.
Good Gunnar tapped his comm. "Yes. Go ahead." As two beams began to coalesce, he motioned to Cireve. "Let's get them stabilized."
The doors to the transporter opened, as Jai popped in. He'd finished up in one of the surgical suites and had heard that there was an emergency transport inboard. MacQuire had just gone into surgery, so the boy wasn't even certain who was available for triage.
When the doors parted, the first thing that the Tibetan's brown eyes seized upon was the fact that Gunnar was there. Because of course he was. "I'm pretty sure I'm too short to be on whatever rollercoaster we're on," the Only deadpanned, as the transporter beams were starting to fade.
He let Gunnar take the one of the right. Dropping by the one of the left, the boy was already working to try and diagnose. "Damage to the vertebrae, spinal column. Immobilize the neck," the boy snapped, in a rapid-fire mode as he sought out the most life-threatening aspects of the case in front of him.
"Traumatic brain injury. Cranial fracture. We need to get him into surgery to relieve the intracranial pressure and repair the artery. Is OR Two open?" the boy noted, glancing over at one of the medical yeomen.
Risking the distraction, the boy glanced over to see how Gunnar was doing with his patient.
"Multiple fractures - pelvis, hip, femur. Ruptured spleen, hollow viscus perforation, internal bleeding," Gunnar reported automatically, sensing more than seeing the doctor look toward him, as his focus was on patient. The man needed surgery, but not as urgently as Jai's patient, so they'd have to do what they could for him until they could get to him. "Cireve! Two units of whole blood, Napean type B," he called even as teams arrived with a backboard for Jai's patient and a gurney for his.
As silent as Cireve was, she immediately had her tricorder in a fellow nurse's hands and was next to the Napean patient in question. She took one small look, before she disappeared off to retrieve the blood in question.
The flicker of the transporter field caught Skili's eye and she stepped back to see if there was anything she could do to help. It seemed well in hand so she returned to setting a broken femur.
"Let's move," Jai stated, as his patient was restrained to the backboard. As they began to depart, the boy tapped his combadge and ordered, "Jai to OR-Two. Have neural calipers, twenty milligrams of lectrazine, and point-four ccs trianoline ready when we arrive."
The man's condition was rapidly deteriorating, even in just the short amount of time it took to travel down the hallway. "He's coding," Jai announced, as an alarm on his tricorder began to sound.
As he was wheeled into the surgical suite, the small boy and nursing team all set to work. Jai set the calipers on the man's forehead and began calibrating them, while the dosage he'd ordered earlier was administered. The surgical support frame was moved into position, as the Tibetan doctor began to work.
Something in the peripheral of his hearing caught his attention. Glancing briefly up and to the right, he saw a monitor on the wall that seemed to be broadcasting a news report. "Turn that up, please," he asked, keeping his attention on the patient in front of him as he continued the surgery.
"...live shot shows some kind of object that has emerged in... We're told it's a farm field. No word yet on what the object is or what connection there may be to the tremors that have shaken the colony."
Finishing up the arterial repair, Jai remarked, "Give me one cc cordrazine."
As the hypospray was prepared, the boy gave a nod for the nurse to administer it. Monitoring the vitals, the boy gave a sigh of relief as the most immediate danger seemed to be passing. "All right, there's still the damage to the spine," the boy noted, shifting his attention slightly. "Prep for CPK enzymatic therapy," he ordered, inputting a few adjustments to the support frame.
Outside the OR, Gunnar rose as the other patient was lifted onto the gurney and was guiding it to his place in the triage line when the increased volume from the broadcast caught his attention.
Looking up he saw the giant ...rock? mound? emerging in a farmer's field. Part of him was thinking 'Great, another weird unexplained thing on Haumea' but a greater part was oddly relieved. No lava or gases - in fact, the shape's all wrong for a fissure vent or a volcanic advance...
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