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Lt. Commander Chythar Skyfire - Not On My Watch, Part II

Ayiana Sevo

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(( Sickbay, USS Gorkon ))

:: Precious time had already been lost, the captain left bleeding out for far too long. Her injuries were extensive, penetrating muscle, flesh, and at probably least one vital organ or artery, since the hypercoagulin did nothing to staunch the flow of blood. He didn’t have time to focus on any other patients right now, only the one. Rushing Quinn into surgery was his priority. :: 

:: He handed over the captain to the waiting operating team, while he scrubbed and changed into something more appropriate for the task ahead. He mulled it over in his mind: Reynolds' anatomy was similar enough to a human that it posed no problem in that regard, though her hybrid physiology could be… unpredictable. The fact that she was a touch-telepath complicated matters just a bit more. He quickly sterilized his hands and gloved up before proceeding. Since their first meeting aboard the Garuda, he hadn’t had occasion to do any major lifesaving on the captain. ::

:: When he entered the operating room, she was already prepped and under anesthetic, the monitors in the room beeping and glowing with her vital data, none of which seeded any hope in his heart. The blood they were transfusing was being lost almost as quickly as they could pump it into her, and the surgical biobed's scanners indicated a hemopneumothorax, as well as multiple deep lacerations to the liver and intestines. Not one was an easy injury to treat, further complicated by the fact he had to do them one at a time. CD took a breath as he glanced at the readouts, forcing himself into a state of calm. ::

:: Time was a luxury he didn’t have, so he began first with the injuries to her lung, draining the blood from her chest so that her lung could re-inflate. He had to remember to breathe as he steadied his hands. He’d performed heart surgery on Bajorans before, but there was a first time for everything. This was his first stabbing with multiple wounds. As he performed his work, a small wave of doubt began to form in his mind. ::

oO What if she dies? Oo

oO Not on my watch, she won’t… Oo

:: He pushed back the negative thoughts and blanked his mind of such fatalistic talk, focusing only on the task. It was delicate work regenerating the lung tissue and surrounding areas, but in the end he got it repaired. The anabolic protoplaser and autosuture were getting a workout today, as he moved on to the liver. Each second that elapsed started to gradually eat away at his calm, even though she was stable and-- ::

Rakujia: She's crashing!

:: The surgical nurse's announcement came as the the monitors began to shrill their alarms, the busy traces of her life signs becoming flat lines. More doubt crept into CD’s mind as the alarms went off, and Stripey was quick to shut all the negative talk down. A good thing, too because Chythar could not afford any mistakes. He needed this to work, for the sake of the crew as well as his own sanity. Professional pride be damned, his reputation as a miracle worker was on the line. He may not have been any Dr. Bones McCoy by any means, but he’d worked miracles in the past. This one had to work, or the consequences -- and conversations -- would be his worst nightmare. ::

Skyfire: 10 milligrams of cordrazine. Charge the cardiostimulator to 3 millijoules.

:: While the anesthetist, Doctor Seung, loaded a hypospray and delivered the cardiac drug directly into Reynolds' veins, Rakujia passed him the cardiostimulator and he pressed it to her chest, delivering the shock that would hopefully restart her heart. ::

Rakujia: No response.

oO Damn it, Quinn...don’t die on us. Please. Oo

Skyfire: Increase to 5 millijoules.

Rakujia: No response.

oO I was ignorant of so much last time. Don’t let this add to my casualty streak. Oo

Skyfire: Again.

Rakujia: No-- ::He paused, then his voice was full of relief.:: No, wait! We've got her!

:: Once again, the monitors began to pulse with the regular, if weak, rhythms of the captain's life. He gave a sigh of relief, like a great weight being lifted from his shoulders. Holding someone’s life in your hands was one thing. Saving the life in your hands was the greatest feeling in the world. He was still not looking forward to the report, or the log entry. Both of those would be tiring, and he would probably need some coffee before getting started. For all those he couldn’t save in the other universe, this moment was worth every memory he carried. ::

:: CD had lost track of the amount of time he had spent already, and wasn’t looking forward to writing up that number, nor the report along with it. Alucard would probably have words with him. Heck, he fully expected Walter to call him up while busy and demand an update, but that was not on his mind at the moment. The life of his patient took precedence. ::

:: Hours -- and three more cardiac arrests, each more prolonged than the last -- later, the liver was repaired. A nurse dabbed away beads of sweat from his eyes and continued his work, moving on to the gastrointestinal repairs. The autosuture was now warm to the touch, like a warmed power pack from a phaser in his hand. Fortunately, it was a dulled sensation as he was using his entire focus to do his job. Warm battery packs had nothing on him right now. Out of all the bombs he’d survived, all the research he’d done, there was nothing that could have prepared him for this, except experience he didn’t have. He continued his task and deliberately did not look at the clock. The last thing he wanted to do was screw up because he was wanting to do it fast rather than right, which would go against the oath he took. ::

:: Once the last of the surgical procedures was complete and the surgical sites were closed, he ran another series of scans. There was nothing more that could be done in surgery for the time being, and he left Rakujia and Seung to take her to one of the private recovery rooms. He would remain close by as long as he could get away with, primarily to keep an eye and also out of a sense of duty. Despite his best efforts, he didn’t play the odds. A quote from one of his favorite 21st century novels came to mind. ::

oO Never tell me the odds! Oo

:: While that quote held true, he had a list of phrases prepared. None of which would please Walter, he was sure. None of which pleased CD either. His surgical scrubs coated in blood from his efforts over the last several hours in the surgery, he excused himself to his office for a change of uniform. At the very least, if called upon, he’d look professional, if not completely decked out for diplomacy. Once his teal collar was back on, he put on one of his uniform jackets and zipped it up before dealing with the paperwork. The tone of the conference had gone from diplomatic to grim in the span of… had it been 12 hours? No, it was more than that, CD was sure. He grimaced as he checked the timestamp from paging Nurse Rakujia to the time they clocked out of surgery. Time for the boring part: the report. ::

Lieutenant Commander Chythar Skyfire 
Chief Medical Officer
USS Gorkon, NCC-82293

Edited by Ayiana
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