Posted by Captain Calvin Marius (Captain) in Nothing good happens after 2am - Medical

Posted by Captain Calvin Marius (Captain) in Nothing good happens after 2am - Medical

Posted by Lieutenant Commander Edelu (CMO) in Nothing good happens after 2am - Medical
Posted by… suppressed (1) by the Post Ghost! 👻
The trim blue uniformed officer staggered in, a large burn covering the majority of his face, heat and smoke trauma long his neck and top of his uniform, but given the low amount of blood… the initial impression was mostly 1st, 2nd, and 3rd degree burns.

The bio-bed in Medical Bay hummed softly, as the officer was moved there. There was a brief flicker as it monitor flashed off then back on to begin monitoring the officers vital signs.

The same flicker occurred with the handheld medical tricorder,

Marius

Edelu didn’t need the diagnostic readouts to know the injury was severe. The scent of scorched uniform, charred flesh, and faint ozone filled the air—fresh, recent, violent. It took effort not to recoil. But he didn’t.

Instead, he moved with purpose.

“Bio-bed Three is active. Monitor’s lagging,” he noted to the nurse beside him as the flicker repeated. He didn’t look up. “Give Engineering a quiet ping. I want redundancy online now. If the readings drop mid-treatment…”

His voice trailed off with implication. Edelu crouched beside the officer, meeting the uneven rhythm of the man’s breath. He was young. No more than thirty. No rank pips visible through the charred collar.

“Lieutenant?” he said softly, voice low but insistent. “Can you hear me?”

“I can… doctor, I can’t see anything but blurry images.” He said his hand over his face, blood leaking from between his fingers.

He raised his medical tricorder again, watching it blink to life, hesitate, then stabilize.

“Multiple degrees of dermal trauma. Face, neck, upper torso—”

His tone shifted seamlessly to his nurse. “0.25 cc neurodazine, prepare the dermal regenerator and respiratory support. I need his airway monitored continuously.”

He tapped his combadge.
=/\=Edelu to Engineering. This is sickbay reporting flickering sensors and I’m flagging an equipment and systems integrity check.=/\=

He glanced again at the patient’s face—burned and blistered, unrecognizable—but his expression remained neutral.

“Stay with us, Lieutenant. I’ve got you now.”

Dr. Edelu, M.D. ○●●
Chief Medical Officer
U.S.S. Genesis

“Why are we even out here?” he questioned his voice tinged with pain, but more with anger strangely. “So strange ship can take shots at us?”

The in almost a paranoid change, “Its all about the Federation trying to get more power… more planets more people more power.. and what do we get blown up in the face.” He ended with a snap.

Lieutenant Bloody Face

The Lieutenant’s voice cracked—not just from injury, but from something deeper. Rage. Disorientation. Fear masquerading as fury.

Edelu didn’t flinch.

He leaned in slightly, close enough for his voice to land gently beneath the sharpness of the patient’s panic. One hand moved to stabilize the regenerator, the other hovered just near the officer’s shoulder—not quite touching, but present.

“The pain makes everything louder,” he said softly. “Thoughts. Fears. Doubts. They come in waves.”

He gave a quiet nod to the nurse at his side. The neurodazine was beginning to take hold now—slowing the man’s breathing, dimming the raw edge of his voice.

“This isn’t nothing,” Edelu continued. “You’re hurt. And you’re scared. I would be too.”

There was no condescension in his tone. Just truth. Even and unwavering.

“But you’re not alone. Not anymore.”

The regenerator hummed to life, casting a low amber glow across the mottled burns.

“You’re aboard a Federation vessel now. Not for power. Not for conquest. For care. For healing.”

He glanced at the flickering monitor again. Still lagging—but functional enough.

“Let me handle the burns,” he said quietly. “You can rage all you like once the swelling’s down. It’ll hurt less that way.”

The corners of his mouth lifted—just slightly.

“Besides… I find it’s easier to curse policy when you’re not struggling to breathe.”

He adjusted the cortical stimulator, then lowered his voice further—barely above a whisper.

“But if something else is bothering you—if something happened out there—I will listen. Not as a Starfleet officer. As your physician.”

And he meant it. Because not every wound bled. Some just refused to close.

Lt. Cmdr. Edelu, M.D. ○●●
Chief Medical Officer
U.S.S. Genesis