Ensign Quentin Beck - Ars Longa, Vitae Brevis

[Dekas]

This sim from @Quentin Beck is sad and beautifully written. It's also absolutely evil that he'd write a sim where he got to decide how much death was on his specific watch like this, but it really personalizes you to Quentin in a different way than his normal amount of sass. It's a great sim. ❤️

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((Sickbay Complex, Deck 10, USS Ronin))

 

Quentin Beck sat grim-faced behind the desk in the Chief Medical Officer's office, eyes sunken and skin pale enough to look almost like Death Himself as he scrolled through the list of those Killed In Action. About a third of them never made it to Sickbay, but there were still a dozen who'd managed to walk, shuffle, or crawl through the door and ultimately died under his care.

 

It didn't matter that they'd suffered life-threatening injuries and really should have died before making it to Sickbay. It didn't matter most of them had already been bleeding out - as far as he was concerned, he'd failed them because he'd been entirely ill-prepared to treat the levels of trauma they had seen.

 

He'd memorized each of their names and had personally updated their files with remarks on how they had arrived in Sickbay and how, despite his best efforts, he had failed to save them. He could see each of their faces etched in his mind, and not the smiling, well-lit photos from their medical files, but their death masks, each one unique.

 

Quentin's chest swelled as he took in a deep breath and held it for a long time. Long enough for it to hurt. It was, in part, just to remind himself that he was still alive, despite the numbness that had leeched its way through his body. He blinked a few times, mostly to keep the moisture from welling too much at the corners, and let out the breath in a big puff of air before dabbing at his eyes with the back of his palm and clearing his throat.

 

He updated the files again, adding a recommendation for the XO to provide commendations for each of the lost officers, posthumously. Then he shut off the screen and turned in his seat, rubbing a hand over his face as he looked out the window to watch the rest of the staff who continued to oversee the few remaining officers stuck in biobeds.

 

Time to do his rounds.

 

Pulling on a freshly replicated blue labcoat, he pulled it mostly closed to cover up the blood stains that littered his uniform. He could have easily replicated a fresh uniform, too, but that didn't seem… right. Not yet, anyway. He slipped his battered medical tricorder into his pocket, grabbed a fresh PADD from a stack near the door, and made his way out to visit each of the crewmen still under treatment.

 

Wyla was last on his list, mostly because he knew she would likely still be unconscious and was in good hands with Rox.

 

He'd made notes for each visit, some for his own sake and some to update their records later on. Thankfully those remaining would be able to return to duty soon, at least for the most part, though there were one or two that would require an indefinite stay. Still, that was better than adding them to the other list.

 

Quentin approached the patient recovery room just as Rox was emerging. He spotted the Worene officer standing over Wyla just over her shoulder and he smiled humorlessly before looking at Rox.

 

Rox: You look like crap.  

 

Beck: Feel like it, too. I'm exhausted. You look pretty beaten up, too.

 

The smell Rox noticed was lost on Beck, if only because he'd been bathed in blood over the past… however many hours. He wasn't even sure how long it had been since the people started filtering into Sickbay, but he was sure that smell had ingrained itself into his nostrils and would never go away. Not even the cleaner could cut through the stench for him.

 

Rox: ::regarding herself::  For nurses that’s a badge of honor.  You can’t go golfing looking like that.

 

Beck:  ::laughing gamely:: Oh yeah, I'm totally gonna hit the back nine right now.

 

Rox:  Everyone seems stable now, I tried to clean up Wyla some.  I don’t think Lt. Osiris is leaving anytime soon.

 

He let out another sigh and glanced back over his shoulder at the now-closed door.

 

Beck:  As long as he's not getting in the way, that's fine by me. She stood over him, I'm sure he wants to return the favor.

 

He was about to ask if Rox wanted to dip into the office with him for a little hair of the dog, but the comm chimed just as he opened his mouth to speak again. He glanced up, almost annoyed.

 

Raga: =/\= Bridge to Sickbay. How’s our crew, Doc? =/\=

 

Rox threw up her hands. Quentin smirked, though the humor didn't reach his eyes.

 

Beck: =/\= Sickbay, Bridge. We're battered and beaten but I'm happy to say we mostly just got our nose bloodied. I've already sent a list of the officers confirmed lost, but it could have been a lot worse. Osiris is standing vigil over Nurse Avae and doesn't really want to be bothered. =/\=

 

Raga: =/\= Not surprised he’s refusing to leave Wyla’s room. It’s a thing from the Atlantis days. Standing watch over injured family. Be sure to have someone put some of her Twibbles in her room. They should help. =/\=

 

Quentin glanced at Rox, though she already seemed to have it under control. 

 

Beck: =/\= We'll look into it. =/\=

 

He paused for a moment, frowning slightly, then stood up a little straighter.

 

Beck: =/\= I'd also like to remind you I allowed the majority of the senior staff to return to duty despite my protests. Please don't make me regret that decision. Sickbay out. =/\=

 

Silence fell over them for a moment, save for the occasional beep of a crewman's vital signs in a different part of Sickbay. Thankfully Rox was the one to break it.

 

Rox:  How now brown cow?

 

Beck: Well. I'm pretty sure despite my last comment, Raga's gonna do his best to make me regret agreeing to be Acting CMO while Kel is gone, so I think while we're in a little lull, we should restock as much as we can. Most of the folks still here should be cleared in the next few hours.

 

Rox: Response

 

Dropping the PADD into his pocket, he stretched his arms out behind him, lacing his fingers together, then again stretched them above his head until his back popped audibly. He groaned.

 

Beck: I need a drink. Pretty sure I found Kel's stash. Think he'd forgive me for cracking open a new bottle?

 

Rox: Response

 

Letting out a snort, he fished out the PADD and held it out to her.

 

Beck: Already done. You're welcome to visit each of them yourself, though. Probably better for their morale to see your pretty face instead of my ugly mug. I want to check in on Kirsty, too - that was a nasty concussion.

 

Rox: Response

 

He stepped into one of the alcoves and leaned a hand against a darkened console, tapping his combadge with the other hand.

 

Beck: =/\= Beck to Carpenter. You got a minute? =/\=

 

Carpenter: =/\= Response =/\=

 

Beck: =/\= I just wanted to see how you were feeling. Kel would never forgive me if I let you die from a brain bleed. =/\=

 

Carpenter: =/\= Response =/\=

 

Beck: =/\= I trust you. Just… if you start feeling weird at all, notice any symptoms, you're under direct orders from the ship's CMO to contact me immediately. Okay? =/\=

 

Carpenter: =/\= Response =/\=

 

Beck: =/\= Okay. Beck out. =/\=

 

Shaking his head, he stepped away from the alcove and walked back into Sickbay proper.

 

Beck: Okay, Rox. Anything I missed?

 

Rox: Response

 

Tags/TBC

 

Ensign Quentin Beck

Medical Officer

USS Ronin NCC-34523

A238810SA0