Unity – Without a shoe on DS5
by Sergeant Major Charles Doherty & Commander Chelsea Dunham
Post Details
ON:
Charles Bruce Doherty had only just awoken in what appeared to be Deep Space Five's Medical Bay. "What the hell..." he muttered to himself in his usual raspy voice. His green uniform was covered in filth, dust, and riddled with small holes and minor scorch marks. "How long have I been here?"
In his concussive stupor, Bruce thought he had heard three officers discussing an attack on the station...or something of the sort. It was still difficult to hear, but his eyesight had returned to normal. Not to mention, Bruce was also currently conscious. That's always a plus.
Five minutes later he looked back and two of the officers were gone. Bruce was fairly confident he could stand up and walk around. Of course, you know what they say about doctors making poor patients...
For that was his purpose onboard this station. Doctor Charles Bruce Doherty had just arrived onboard station a few minutes ago...or so, it seemed to him that it had only been a few minutes. Upon reflection, the marine truly had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. With every second, he began to think more and more clearly until the haze of his unconsciousness was mostly behind him.
Bruce, who was always extremely attentive to duty, had only just realized that he had yet to report to the Quartermaster. He immediately sat up, and with one quick motion he threw his body off the side of the bed and stood erect with his feet on the floor. Damn! His shoes were missing. What had happened to him?
Doherty walked toward the woman he had previously observed in conversation, and whom he believed was also the CMO. She was turned away from him, tending to a patient. Doherty walked his six and a half foot frame up behind the doctor, but before he could warn her of his presence, the doctor turned, unaware, and came face to face...or rather, face to chest with Bruce Doherty.
"What........" Chelsea didn't get any further. She took a step back instinctively trying to avoid a facefull of Marine uniform. Looking upwards she recognised the man and took on a disapproving look, waggling her finger upwards at him.
"Should you be out of bed?" she reproached him, thinking as she spoke how different people look when they're lying down.
"Hmm, I'm not sure. I thought you were the doctor," replied Bruce, taken slightly aback by the doctor's response, "you are the doctor, aren't you?"
"I *am* the doctor and that was not a question but an accusation, soldier." Chelsea retorted, sounding fierce but she was grinning. She was actually pleased to see how well he had recovered. "If you're as well as you look, I'll discharge you. Right back this way please so I can just scan and check. Appearances can be deceptive you know."
Bruce very much enjoyed the reaction he had gotten out of the doctor. You can never really know about Starfleet doctors, but this one seemed alright. "This is very true, doctor. It's always good to be thorough," said Bruce, as he was being led to the nearest empty bed, "but you know this same concept remains just as true in war as well," he continued in a light, conversational tone.
As he walked, he began to observe the medical bay for the first time. And as Bruce began to observe the medical bay, he noticed two things. First, it was remarkably large and well equipped - owing no doubt to the station's size. But the second thing he noticed which puzzled him was the amount of wounded. What precisely had transpired onboard the station that would necessitate this many casualties? Bruce had, until now, assumed that whatever had happened to him was isolated and easily explainable. The status of the medical department seemed to suggest otherwise.
On his way to the hospital bed, Bruce continued to muse, "Especially on a station like this...so grand in scope and size, with all of its comings and goings." his voice began to harden and his face was stern now, "A station like this...it's the size of a city. And yet, a small security force guards it supported by a marine detachment that I suspect is discouraged from being seen by the public. So the story goes...how presumptuous we are to believe that we can manage such power. There was a time when such ignorance was punished. But we won that war, I suppose. Woe to vanquished and all that, eh?"
"You've lost me" Chelsea replied, scanning him and making notes on a padd. "But it's okay, you'll live to fight another day" she decided, discharging him from medical detainment.
"Hmmm," said Bruce, thinking to himself. "On that subject doctor," he practically exclaimed, conversationally once again, "what exactly *did* happen here?"
"Apparently, some bombs were detonated on the base, at various locations, but with a minimum of fatalities. Someone making a point perhaps? Or distracting someone? Who knows." she explained.
"Hmmm." replied Bruce, taking in this new information. First day on the job, and there are bombings onboard station. He supposed that perhaps he might have his work cut out for him on this new assignment. That is, of course, how he likes it. "All the more reason for me to report to my CO...Although I understand he's not onboard."
"No" she agreed.
~and he's left some pushy little spaced-out egotist in charge, good luck with that.~ she thought but didn't voice that part.
As Bruce got himself off the bed, he looked around at the Medical Bay and took in the sheer size of it. Suddenly he was looking forward to getting a chance to work in this part of the base. He certainly hoped that there would be ample oppurtunity for him to work with the Starfleet doctors. That being said, Bruce always felt that Starfleeters took themselves a little too seriously. They are, undoubtedly, the sort of people who wear turtlenecks on their days off.
Shaking this idea aside, Bruce said to the doctor, "It's an impressive unit you're running doctor, even if it's a little bare and...sterile." Ah the pun. Is there no lower form of comedy? "But oh well, I look forward to working with you from time to time!" he said loudly, briefly considering giving the doctor a friendly back slap, but judging by the doctor's countenance he thought better of it. Instead he settled for a stern nod of his head and a quick nasal inhalation that is typically reserved to indicate that the conversation is coming to a close. It should really be known that Bruce, for all his unflinching rigidity and sterness, can be quite boisterous. He is also, like many marines, a loud talker.
Chelsea's brows drew in quizzically. "Glad you like the 'old place' Sargeant Major" she replied, not quite sure if that had been a compliment or not. ".... not sure about bare and sterile though...but if you think so? How would you marines decorate your medical facilities? Not exactly reputed for your 'pink and fluffy', are you?" she smiled.
"This is true. But it doesn't have to be pink and fluffy to have heart, Doctor," Bruce smiled fairly, "I mean, where are the pinups?" he jested, "And to me, sick bay isn't sick bay without a shooting range." Bruce added. Bruce began to scan the room. "You could put one right....there."
"Shooti.......?" Chelsea looked at this enigma quizzically. She thought about it and a smirk crept across the corners of her lips, a twinkle sparking into her eyes as she warmed to the man. Obviously not visibly, though, *naturally*. He *was* a Marine after all and she was still a 'fleeter'.
"We don't need pin-ups to shoot at, Doctor, we have plenty of Marines passing-by on this Station, most of which behave like ducks, bopping up and down quacking and generally providing plenty of sport." she shot mischievously referring to the sibling rivalry between the Divisions, sensing this man had sufficient sense of humour to be able to make light of her own.
"Well then," replied Bruce with a slight grin, "I suppose it's a good thing I've been summoned to Deep Space Five. Marines are no good when they're full of holes." Bruce was beginning to warm to the doctor. Perhaps it was simply a professional understanding, but in Bruce's experience there seemed to exist a select few Starfleet officers who were palatable. It seemed that this particular doctor was one of them. "You know, you're alright Doc," said Bruce approvingly, "for Starfleet I mean." he added with a mix of some good humour and some seriousness and, in Bruce's opinion, some accuracy.
It had only just occurred to Bruce that he didn't know the CMO's name, "What should I call you, Commander?"
Chelsea thought about saying "Sir" but she wasn't sure their new budding friendship was strong enough for her sense of humour going quite *that* far yet. She smiled at the thought and went back to his comment about Marines full of holes instead.
"Aerated is a pretty good condition to have Marines in, it saves them overheating, allegedly" she retorted with a smirk. "Chelsea. Chelsea Adams" she added, belatedly holding out a hand to shake his. "Dr Livingstone, I presume?"
Bruce extended a large, strong hand, "Dr. Bruce Doherty. Barring any unforseen medical emergencies with the marines, I should be working with you frequently. I have to say, I imagine it will be...interesting to say the least."
"I agree." Chelsea accepted his hand and returned the firm handshake with a grin. "By the way, did I discharge you?"
"Yes sir, I believe you did," replied Bruce, "and a fine job you did, sir." A quick salute and a sharp about-face, and Bruce had left sick bay.
This would be his first day of duty onboard Deep Space Five, and he was hopeful. Unlike his last assignment, he and Vanessa could be together more often. Bruce's thoughts were on family that day, as he walked the halls of the behemoth station. So infrequently did Bruce torture himself with such thoughts, but if only Jacqueline could see the old man now...what would she say to her doctor father? Would she proud? Would she embrace him one last time, and pile upon him all the love and joy that a child's heart can hold? She would probably laugh, and smile in her sweet, loving way. It would be something to cherish - something to hold on to as he had not before.
That is all in the past, and that door is closed. But then, if what they say is true, another must open.
OFF
A JP between:
Lieutenant Commander Chelsea Adams
Chief Medical Officer
Deep Space Five
&
Sergeant-Major Bruce Doherty
Marine Surgeon
Deep Space Five
by Sergeant Major Charles Doherty & Commander Chelsea Dunham
Post Details
| Title | Without a shoe on DS5 | |
| Mission | Unity | |
| Author(s) | Sergeant Major Charles Doherty & Commander Chelsea Dunham | |
| Posted | Fri Mar 26, 2010 @ 5:38am | |
| Location | Medical Bay | |
| Timeline | SD 17 10:20 |
Charles Bruce Doherty had only just awoken in what appeared to be Deep Space Five's Medical Bay. "What the hell..." he muttered to himself in his usual raspy voice. His green uniform was covered in filth, dust, and riddled with small holes and minor scorch marks. "How long have I been here?"
In his concussive stupor, Bruce thought he had heard three officers discussing an attack on the station...or something of the sort. It was still difficult to hear, but his eyesight had returned to normal. Not to mention, Bruce was also currently conscious. That's always a plus.
Five minutes later he looked back and two of the officers were gone. Bruce was fairly confident he could stand up and walk around. Of course, you know what they say about doctors making poor patients...
For that was his purpose onboard this station. Doctor Charles Bruce Doherty had just arrived onboard station a few minutes ago...or so, it seemed to him that it had only been a few minutes. Upon reflection, the marine truly had no idea how long he'd been unconscious. With every second, he began to think more and more clearly until the haze of his unconsciousness was mostly behind him.
Bruce, who was always extremely attentive to duty, had only just realized that he had yet to report to the Quartermaster. He immediately sat up, and with one quick motion he threw his body off the side of the bed and stood erect with his feet on the floor. Damn! His shoes were missing. What had happened to him?
Doherty walked toward the woman he had previously observed in conversation, and whom he believed was also the CMO. She was turned away from him, tending to a patient. Doherty walked his six and a half foot frame up behind the doctor, but before he could warn her of his presence, the doctor turned, unaware, and came face to face...or rather, face to chest with Bruce Doherty.
"What........" Chelsea didn't get any further. She took a step back instinctively trying to avoid a facefull of Marine uniform. Looking upwards she recognised the man and took on a disapproving look, waggling her finger upwards at him.
"Should you be out of bed?" she reproached him, thinking as she spoke how different people look when they're lying down.
"Hmm, I'm not sure. I thought you were the doctor," replied Bruce, taken slightly aback by the doctor's response, "you are the doctor, aren't you?"
"I *am* the doctor and that was not a question but an accusation, soldier." Chelsea retorted, sounding fierce but she was grinning. She was actually pleased to see how well he had recovered. "If you're as well as you look, I'll discharge you. Right back this way please so I can just scan and check. Appearances can be deceptive you know."
Bruce very much enjoyed the reaction he had gotten out of the doctor. You can never really know about Starfleet doctors, but this one seemed alright. "This is very true, doctor. It's always good to be thorough," said Bruce, as he was being led to the nearest empty bed, "but you know this same concept remains just as true in war as well," he continued in a light, conversational tone.
As he walked, he began to observe the medical bay for the first time. And as Bruce began to observe the medical bay, he noticed two things. First, it was remarkably large and well equipped - owing no doubt to the station's size. But the second thing he noticed which puzzled him was the amount of wounded. What precisely had transpired onboard the station that would necessitate this many casualties? Bruce had, until now, assumed that whatever had happened to him was isolated and easily explainable. The status of the medical department seemed to suggest otherwise.
On his way to the hospital bed, Bruce continued to muse, "Especially on a station like this...so grand in scope and size, with all of its comings and goings." his voice began to harden and his face was stern now, "A station like this...it's the size of a city. And yet, a small security force guards it supported by a marine detachment that I suspect is discouraged from being seen by the public. So the story goes...how presumptuous we are to believe that we can manage such power. There was a time when such ignorance was punished. But we won that war, I suppose. Woe to vanquished and all that, eh?"
"You've lost me" Chelsea replied, scanning him and making notes on a padd. "But it's okay, you'll live to fight another day" she decided, discharging him from medical detainment.
"Hmmm," said Bruce, thinking to himself. "On that subject doctor," he practically exclaimed, conversationally once again, "what exactly *did* happen here?"
"Apparently, some bombs were detonated on the base, at various locations, but with a minimum of fatalities. Someone making a point perhaps? Or distracting someone? Who knows." she explained.
"Hmmm." replied Bruce, taking in this new information. First day on the job, and there are bombings onboard station. He supposed that perhaps he might have his work cut out for him on this new assignment. That is, of course, how he likes it. "All the more reason for me to report to my CO...Although I understand he's not onboard."
"No" she agreed.
~and he's left some pushy little spaced-out egotist in charge, good luck with that.~ she thought but didn't voice that part.
As Bruce got himself off the bed, he looked around at the Medical Bay and took in the sheer size of it. Suddenly he was looking forward to getting a chance to work in this part of the base. He certainly hoped that there would be ample oppurtunity for him to work with the Starfleet doctors. That being said, Bruce always felt that Starfleeters took themselves a little too seriously. They are, undoubtedly, the sort of people who wear turtlenecks on their days off.
Shaking this idea aside, Bruce said to the doctor, "It's an impressive unit you're running doctor, even if it's a little bare and...sterile." Ah the pun. Is there no lower form of comedy? "But oh well, I look forward to working with you from time to time!" he said loudly, briefly considering giving the doctor a friendly back slap, but judging by the doctor's countenance he thought better of it. Instead he settled for a stern nod of his head and a quick nasal inhalation that is typically reserved to indicate that the conversation is coming to a close. It should really be known that Bruce, for all his unflinching rigidity and sterness, can be quite boisterous. He is also, like many marines, a loud talker.
Chelsea's brows drew in quizzically. "Glad you like the 'old place' Sargeant Major" she replied, not quite sure if that had been a compliment or not. ".... not sure about bare and sterile though...but if you think so? How would you marines decorate your medical facilities? Not exactly reputed for your 'pink and fluffy', are you?" she smiled.
"This is true. But it doesn't have to be pink and fluffy to have heart, Doctor," Bruce smiled fairly, "I mean, where are the pinups?" he jested, "And to me, sick bay isn't sick bay without a shooting range." Bruce added. Bruce began to scan the room. "You could put one right....there."
"Shooti.......?" Chelsea looked at this enigma quizzically. She thought about it and a smirk crept across the corners of her lips, a twinkle sparking into her eyes as she warmed to the man. Obviously not visibly, though, *naturally*. He *was* a Marine after all and she was still a 'fleeter'.
"We don't need pin-ups to shoot at, Doctor, we have plenty of Marines passing-by on this Station, most of which behave like ducks, bopping up and down quacking and generally providing plenty of sport." she shot mischievously referring to the sibling rivalry between the Divisions, sensing this man had sufficient sense of humour to be able to make light of her own.
"Well then," replied Bruce with a slight grin, "I suppose it's a good thing I've been summoned to Deep Space Five. Marines are no good when they're full of holes." Bruce was beginning to warm to the doctor. Perhaps it was simply a professional understanding, but in Bruce's experience there seemed to exist a select few Starfleet officers who were palatable. It seemed that this particular doctor was one of them. "You know, you're alright Doc," said Bruce approvingly, "for Starfleet I mean." he added with a mix of some good humour and some seriousness and, in Bruce's opinion, some accuracy.
It had only just occurred to Bruce that he didn't know the CMO's name, "What should I call you, Commander?"
Chelsea thought about saying "Sir" but she wasn't sure their new budding friendship was strong enough for her sense of humour going quite *that* far yet. She smiled at the thought and went back to his comment about Marines full of holes instead.
"Aerated is a pretty good condition to have Marines in, it saves them overheating, allegedly" she retorted with a smirk. "Chelsea. Chelsea Adams" she added, belatedly holding out a hand to shake his. "Dr Livingstone, I presume?"
Bruce extended a large, strong hand, "Dr. Bruce Doherty. Barring any unforseen medical emergencies with the marines, I should be working with you frequently. I have to say, I imagine it will be...interesting to say the least."
"I agree." Chelsea accepted his hand and returned the firm handshake with a grin. "By the way, did I discharge you?"
"Yes sir, I believe you did," replied Bruce, "and a fine job you did, sir." A quick salute and a sharp about-face, and Bruce had left sick bay.
This would be his first day of duty onboard Deep Space Five, and he was hopeful. Unlike his last assignment, he and Vanessa could be together more often. Bruce's thoughts were on family that day, as he walked the halls of the behemoth station. So infrequently did Bruce torture himself with such thoughts, but if only Jacqueline could see the old man now...what would she say to her doctor father? Would she proud? Would she embrace him one last time, and pile upon him all the love and joy that a child's heart can hold? She would probably laugh, and smile in her sweet, loving way. It would be something to cherish - something to hold on to as he had not before.
That is all in the past, and that door is closed. But then, if what they say is true, another must open.
OFF
A JP between:
Lieutenant Commander Chelsea Adams
Chief Medical Officer
Deep Space Five
&
Sergeant-Major Bruce Doherty
Marine Surgeon
Deep Space Five