<div dir="auto">There's a repost of this on the way, had hoped it would be this evening but that's unlikely now, as need to get ready for going back to work<div dir="auto">Tomorrow now.</div></div><br><div class="gmail_quote"><div dir="ltr" class="gmail_attr">On Mon, 30 Aug 2021, 22:20 Mark Howard via exeter-rpg, <<a href="mailto:exeter-rpg@startrekfreedom.com">exeter-rpg@startrekfreedom.com</a>> wrote:<br></div><blockquote class="gmail_quote" style="margin:0 0 0 .8ex;border-left:1px #ccc solid;padding-left:1ex"><div dir="ltr"><span id="m_-5561937961678108022gmail-docs-internal-guid-83ac1873-7fff-41ae-e844-9fec9846ce8e"><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Mission: Andromeda's Chain</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Day: 1</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Stardate: 2446.01.03</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(USS Exeter - Deck 8 – MedIntern aEns Lana Wakeman - 0351)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Dural to sick bay. Dr. Kruze are you ready for incoming critical patients?” Dural said after opening a chanel.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Ah Come onnn……” Lana called out “Really…? “Critical at 85...We don’t have the capacity for the high ups to piss about. I thought that Bracken understood the flow of this. I have this patient, but obs are shakey. Running in an IV saline Mg...K...Na...P is low as is….Selenium.” Lana looked about her, there were a lot of people doing their job, to the best of their ability, but there was a lacking of a solitary voice, a centering focus for all of them to respond to. </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Oh, my that’s a spanner in the cogs isn’t it?” Dural said. “I have one Urgent Surgical and 5 Immediate patients. They all have the same neuro-chemical imbalance, the surgical one has a stab wound, we’ll have to stop the bleeding so I’m putting him on a higher triage category. The rest are unconscious and what ever is going on has only interfered with higher brain functions the brain stem seems unaffected.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Lana sighed irritably. “A pattern is no use if they’re all dead. Typical Bracken, going after the golden prize and leaving the lesser to die.” she said openly. “I have bleeding controlled, damned Remans. No signs of toxins. Sats... Bp...O2…” Lana ripped off the gloves and was handed a replacement by a medical tech. “Shit...he’s all over...he ain’t dead yet.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“McDonald get the surgical suite ready, Wakefield prep 5 beds and the one that Dr Vesper is in for stasis. That will keep whatever is happening to them at bay while we focus our attentions on Mr. Sytuk. Call when these things are accomplished and we’ll start transport. Dural out.” Dural closed the channel and began tending to the Reman.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap"> </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Handing over to my left in five...Dammit nurse! take this up on my left blood loss, line in and blood replacements run in a line 4 units crossmatched and lined up. He dies I blame you.” Lana stepped away, and shot an order across the bay, “ancillary...5 beds stat. 5 through 10 look empty. Prepped and run in. I want 2 units each standard crossmatch, await exo-additional bloods. Prep crash tray for each bed.” </span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Methor pulled out an expanding foam pressing the nozzle into the stab wound. He pressed the actuator and a loud “hiss” sound was heard. Once the wound was full he released the actuator and pulled out the applicator the foam expanded pushing at the wound from the inside.</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">Lana turned back to the emergency area, deposing another with a nod. “Scan showing. Filler transposition showing appreciative physiological improvement. Bloodsssss arrrre aaaaat…..95 that is niner fiver o2 sat. bp standard.”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(Reply any sickbay)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">“Concur, blood chem is…” Lana looked at it…”Not what I’d expect.” She turned to Methor. “So...Doctor?” she ventured. “Hell, the whole universe heard Vespers’ swansong...what gives? Did you know about this? I mean no judgement, but it calls Brackens position into question surely?”</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"> </p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(Reply Methor)</span></p><p dir="ltr" style="line-height:1.38;margin-top:0pt;margin-bottom:0pt"><span style="font-size:11pt;font-family:Arial;background-color:transparent;font-variant-numeric:normal;font-variant-east-asian:normal;vertical-align:baseline;white-space:pre-wrap">(Posted by Mark)</span></p></span><br></div>
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