Posted Oct. 18, 2018, 10:18 p.m. by Gamemaster Mischief Maker (Gamemaster) (Lindsay B)
She sank onto a bench in the narrow corridor and could feel the draft of damp cold air seeping in from the ruined half of the clinic. It was boarded up as much as possible but it wasn’t as weather tight as she’d prefer. Outside, the rain was pouring down as it had for the last few hours and so far showed no signs of stopping. She had finished the rounds outside in the shelters and then did quick rounds in the Primary Care area that now served as pretty much all care since the storm had wiped out their Recovery and Long Term Care wards. The surgical ward had always been something of a joke, but now it was pushed back as far away from the east side of the clinic lest anything contaminate their sole functioning surgical area.
Footfalls announced someone approaching and she opened her eyes in time to see a coffee cup appear. “Coffee, decaf. It’s even replicated,” a deep voice said and she gazed upwards to see her dark haired security officer/medic grinning at her.
“Careful, someone might complain I’m mismanaging resources,” she joked. Replicator and power resources in general were low, so they lived mostly off of rations and saved the replicator for their patients and the worst off of the refugees.
“Not a chance, Commander,” he replied.
She took a sip and sighed. “You’re a Godsend, Mayur.”
Lt. (j.g) Mayur Joshi chuckled as he sat on the bench next to her. “Happy to help. Besides, you’ve been on duty for around sixteen hours now. If you’re not careful, Yirn will order you sedated.”
“She’d better not. I’d call that mutiny.”
“It isn’t if she’s got ultimate authority. You might be the commanding officer here, but she’s got those damned psychiatry degree letters beside her name too. Her letters trump ours when it comes to the mind.”
“I’m not crazy,” Xerdosa said dryly.
“No, but you’re exhausted. Two steps away from crazy Bo…”
She laughed and then sighed. “Uggh, I do need sleep. I should try to get a few hours.”
“Or six. Hey, even eight!”
“You’re funny,” she said, elbowing the lieutenant.
“Don’t laugh. Yirn will hear you trying to make do with minimal sleep.”
“Yirn has better hearing than you do, of which one would think you’d remember after all this time,” a lithe half-Vulcan woman said, leaning up against the doorway to their staff room. She shifted her sharp gaze to Xerdosa. “Commander, six hours. And I’m not asking.”
Bosede let out a resigned sigh. “Fine, but do me a favour and go check on Serith later? Remak said he wasn’t feeling well and I’m a bit concerned about him given everything. I left notes.”
Griffith nodded. “Of course. I’ll check on the boy and his father. The Ogawa should be here tomorrow, as well as the other vessel, so we will have extra hands, supplies and eventually a new clinic. Now go, I’ve got the night shift as I’ve already sent Anni to bed.”
“Good, I swear I haven’t seen her sleep in days, though I know she has.” Draining her coffee cup, she handed it back to Joshi with a smirk. “Thanks.”
“You’re welcome. Rest well, Boss.”
Bosede made her way out of the clinic to the shelter that served at their living quarters. By the time she stepped through the door, not even her Starfleet issue waterproof jacket had kept her entirely dry. At least she could spare a few minutes for a sonic shower before she blissfully passed out.
Not far from the Starfleet shelter, similar but more temporary shelters housed the dozens of Romulan refugees in the small clearing in the jungle. It was here where the true crisis was beginning- a crisis that under the circumstances no one was prepared for.
~Mischief Maker
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