Posted by Gamemaster Amadeus (Gamemaster) in Sickbay
<snip and move to different thread>

Areiana stood with the other officers, offering a respectful nod to the captain as she gathered her PADD. The low hum of the ship seemed louder than usual, or perhaps it was just the tension settling in her chest. Orders had been given, and now it was time to act. There was no room for hesitation.

Turning on her heel, she stepped into the corridor. The doors slid shut behind her with a soft hiss, sealing off the briefing room and whatever fleeting calm it had held. Already, her mind was shifting gears—priorities aligning, contingencies forming. She raised her hand to her combadge and tapped it firmly.

“Blackford to all medical staff,” she said, her voice steady but urgent. “Please report to the medical bay immediately for an emergency meeting.”

There was a faint chorus of acknowledgments in her ear, overlapping voices confirming they were on their way. Good. No delays.

She quickened her pace toward the turbolift, boots striking the deck with purpose. The ship’s corridors, usually so familiar and routine, now felt charged with anticipation. Whatever was coming, it was serious enough to mobilize her entire team—and that alone told her how little margin for error they had.

“Medical bay.”

The doors slid closed, and the lift surged smoothly into motion. Areiana exhaled slowly, folding her hands behind her back as she stared at the seam of the doors. This was the moment before everything accelerated—the last chance to think clearly before the storm hit.

Her thoughts raced through protocols and personnel. Triage stations would need to be established. Supplies checked—twice. She’d have to assign teams quickly, make sure everyone knew their roles without confusion or overlap. There was no telling what condition the incoming patients would be in, or how many there might be. Worst-case scenarios flickered through her mind, uninvited but necessary.

She straightened slightly, resolve settling in. Whatever awaited them, she would be ready—and so would her staff.

The turbolift slowed, then came to a gentle stop. The doors parted with a soft whisper. Areiana stepped forward without hesitation, already shifting from preparation to action.

Areiana Blackford

Lieutenant Junior Grade Chief Medical Officer USS Chimera

20 minutes later some very tired and grumpy doctors and nurses filed in to the CMO’s office.

– GM Amadeus

Areiana stepped into Sickbay at a brisk pace, the doors sliding open with a soft hiss behind her. Her eyes were fixed on the PADD in her hands as she skimmed over the latest updates, her expression focused and unreadable. Only when she reached the center of the room did she finally look up, taking in the tired, slightly irritated faces of her team—some still adjusting uniforms, others clutching hastily grabbed mugs of coffee.

“Alright, everyone,” she began, her voice steady but carrying enough authority to cut through the lingering grogginess. “I know you’re a little grumpy that I pulled you out of bed, and believe me, I don’t blame you. But you also know I wouldn’t have done it if it wasn’t important.”

She paused just long enough to make sure she had their full attention before continuing.

“We are currently en route to Scallax Prime. There’s an active hostage situation unfolding on the surface, and from the reports we’re receiving, it’s already turned violent. Once we arrive, we’ll be partnering with the Favereau, who will be assisting with medical support.”

A few glances were exchanged around the room, the tension beginning to replace the earlier annoyance.

“We are expecting a mass casualty event,” Areiana said plainly. “That means we don’t have the luxury of perfect conditions or unlimited time. Myself and another doctor will be going down first with the initial away team to assess the situation and begin treating whoever we can immediately.”

She shifted her grip on the PADD, tapping it once before continuing.

“Once the scene is secure—or as secure as it’s going to get—we’ll need additional teams to deploy planetside. Your job will be to stabilize patients on site, prioritize who can be treated there, and prepare others for transport. The most critical patients will be transferred to the Favereau. Those who require off-planet care but are stable will be transported back here to our Sickbay.”

Her gaze moved across each member of her staff, making sure the weight of the situation landed.

“I need everyone sharp. Focused. We’re going to be dealing with a lot of severely injured people, and they’re going to need us at our best.”

She took a breath, then continued more briskly.

“I’m sending out team assignments now. Team A, you’ll be deploying to the surface to assist with on-site treatment. Team B, you’ll remain here and prepare to receive incoming patients—triage, surgery, whatever’s needed. Team C, you’re our relief and backup. At any point, if someone needs to step away—even for a minute—you step in and take over. No hesitation.”

Areiana lowered the PADD slightly, her tone softening just a fraction.

“I mean that. This is going to be intense, and I don’t need anyone pushing themselves to the point of collapse. We rotate, we support each other, and we keep going.”

She straightened again, all business.

“I want supplies prepped and ready before we arrive. Trauma kits, field units, surgical packs—everything. We don’t know how many injured we’re walking into or how severe their conditions will be, so we plan for all of it. No assumptions.”

The room had gone completely still now, every trace of sleepiness replaced with focus.

Areiana gave a final nod, her voice firm.

“Everyone understand?”

A chorus of acknowledgments followed, and just like that, Sickbay shifted from groggy irritation to controlled, purposeful motion.

Once she was certain the medical team knew exactly what they were doing—and more importantly, that they were ready—Areiana allowed herself a small, satisfied nod. She had gone over the plan twice, asked the right questions, and watched each of them closely as they responded. There had been no hesitation, no uncertainty. They were prepared.

“Alright,” she said at last, her tone firm but not unkind. “You all know your assignments. Get some rest while you can—we don’t know what we’re walking into yet, and I need all of you sharp.” Her green eyes moved across the group, lingering just long enough on each person to make sure they understood the weight of that. “We move the moment we arrive.”

There were a few nods, a couple quiet “yes, ma’am’s,” before the team began to disperse. The room slowly emptied, the low hum of conversation fading as the doors slid shut behind the last of them. For a brief moment, the sudden quiet pressed in around her.

Areiana exhaled slowly, rolling her shoulders as some of the tension eased—just a little. She reached up, brushing a strand of red hair back behind her ear that had slipped loose from her braid during the briefing. There was always that moment after giving orders, that stillness where everything shifted from planning to waiting. She never quite liked it.

Her gaze drifted to the nearest console, reviewing the incoming data one last time. Unknown conditions. Limited intel. Potential for injuries, possibly worse. It was the kind of situation she had trained for—but that didn’t mean she ever took it lightly.

Satisfied there was nothing more she could prepare on her end for now, she straightened slightly and tapped her combadge.

“Lieutenant Blackford to Captain.”

Her voice was calm, professional, but carried an undercurrent of readiness. She didn’t rush her words, didn’t let the urgency sharpen them too much—just enough to be clear that this wasn’t a casual check-in.

She paused, waiting for the familiar chirp of a response, her posture instinctively shifting into attention. Behind her composed expression, her mind was already moving ahead—running through contingencies, medical scenarios, triage priorities.

Whatever awaited them when they arrived… she would be ready.
Areiana Blackford

Lieutenant Junior Grade Chief Medical Officer USS Chimera