---------- Forwarded message ----------
From: <ucip.dk@gmail.com>
Date: Sun, Jan 3, 2010 at 11:25 PM
Subject: Fw: SD241001.03 | Personal Log | Dr. D. King | CMO
To: tlsahm@gmail.com
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
-----Original Message-----
From: ucip.dk@gmail.com
Date: Mon, 4 Jan 2010 03:43:36
To: <charon@ucip.org>; Trek - Swan<Swans.mail@gmail.com>
Subject: SD241001.03 | Personal Log | Dr. D. King | CMO
<<OOC: This log takes Lieutenant Aubrey Roberts out of the game until Sarasi returns to Charon. The 'present' takes place after the upcoming jl between myself and Miss Aayla.>>
=/-\= Corridor, Deck Three =/-\=
The day had been a very long one; in fact, the entire week had seemed like an eternity. Since his arrival nearly three months previously on board the Quantum Fury, David King had seen how the crew of the Charon seemed to jump from one bout of excitement to the next. How they managed to keep themselves going was a testament to their strength, as well as to the skills of their commander. Not to mention a great deal of luck.
The doctor had finally managed to finish up the last of his paperwork (namely the ungodly charting that had been necessary after the recent events), and had turned over the reins to the beta shift doctors, resigning himself to bed. There was enough time between now and the next rotation that, with the right medicinal assistance, he should be able to pull in at least a good five or six hours' worth of sleep.
The door to the quarters he shared with Aubrey Roberts was in sight now as he padded down the corridor, his feet shuffling against the carpet of the corridor. As the doors parted he found the room unnervingly quiet, though he didn't have to think hard to remember what had happened…
-=- Some Time Before… -=-
The screams and moans filling sickbay was beginning to become cacophonous, and more patients were being carried in by the moment. Doctor King had taken a moment to quiet the intruder alert klaxon in the medical bay, but there wasn't enough time to silence the injured and maimed. The surgeon was already at work attempting to stabilize some of those who were on the brink of the next life. A thin layer of rainbowed blood from a half-dozen different species colored the floor of sickbay in great patches.
David had his hands against the lacerated arm of a security officer when the call came from across sickbay, "Doctor King! Doctor King, over here!"
Without looking up from his work the Chief Medical Officer replied, "Just find a place along the wall! Triage will see to them as soon as possible." Raising a hand he said to his assisting nurse, he kept his other firmly held against the arm despite the blood seeping through, "Number three autosuture. If we don't get this artery repaired this man isn't going to make it."
"Doctor King!" the voice called again. "I think you really should look at this one! Her medical records indicate a pregnancy!" That was all it took to pull David's attention away from the man on his table. There were only a couple possible people this could be at the moment, and one was bearing his child.
There, to his complete dismay, lay Lieutenant Aubrey Roberts slumped in the arms of the triage technician, unconscious and bleeding from several location with a face purple with bruising.
-=- Present Time -=-
David moved towards the sofa that sat against the large windows looking out at the stars and slumped down onto it. Seeing her like that had nearly broken him. It was like his life had become stuck in this horrible, twisted loop, with the most horrible events of his life replaying over and over. First his family had been killed, then Tia and Elizabeth had been taken, and now Aubrey and their unborn daughter.
A vicious cycle of love and loss apparently doomed to repeat forever.
Was this how he was truly meant to spend his life? Alone, avoiding relationships with others for fear of them becoming victims of the cycle?
For the love of the gods he hoped not. The one lesson he had learned in all of his travels, across all of his missions and duties, was that life was not something to be lived alone.
Fate was not something that David had believed in. Ever. But the more he traveled the universe, and the more he saw and the more he participated in, the closer he came to belief. There was just too much that happened for it to be coincidence.
If not for a guiding power in the universe, how else can one man be doomed to lose two children?
-=- Back in the past… -=-
"Doctor King, the Lieutenant!"
The shout shook David from his momentary state of shock and he turned his gaze quickly back to the medical bay, "Yes. Yes, of course. Get her on a table."
"Not that one, sir," the nurse called, reaching out and grabbing his arm to keep him from moving away. With a tug she pulled him back to the security officer already on his table. "This one, sir."
It took several moments for David to realize what he had been doing. Finally he nodded, "Of course. You're right. Get Doctor Jennings; he's got a history in obstetrics. For this Lieutenant we're going to go in and repair the brachial artery. Inject twenty cc's of lectrazine and let's get this party started."
Of course, the entire time his thoughts were with Aubrey, and though he would never admit it, he may have even muttered a prayer or two as he set about healing the young security officer.
It had been a grueling three hours in sickbay, working on a near continual flood of wounded from across the ship while waiting to hear from Paul. They had moved Aubrey into one of the sterile surgical bays just off of main sickbay, and while they worked there was no word from inside. No news if either of them were going to survive the brutal beating they had taken at the hands of a Romulan boarding party.
Finally, though, Jennings had come out of the surgical bay, his teal-colored body-suit pulled down from his head and his mask in his hands. Another medical officer took over for the Chief Medical Officer as Paul approached, and David refused to make any assumptions. After all, his appearance could simply be from exhaustion.
"David," Paul began, his hands clutching the mask in front of him. "There were complications."
"Complications?" asked King, a growing sense of weakness spreading through his legs. "What kind of complications?"
There was obviously anguish in the eyes of Doctor Jennings as he fought for the right words. Finally he let out a very heavy sigh, "The beating that Lieutenant Roberts took was very severe. There was a great deal of intracranial pressure resulting from the impacts along the base of her skull, as well as six broken ribs and a fractured femur. Already we're seeing the signs of an intracerebral hematoma, but we're doing everything we can to fight it off."
David understood. His glance fell to the floor, "She's in a coma."
"And it's deepening," Jennings confirmed with a solemn nod.
Suddenly David's eyes shot back up, "The baby. What about the baby?"
Again Paul was obviously struggling for words. Finally he simply reached out and took hold of his friend's shoulder, "I'm sorry, David."
"No…oh no…" David called out. His legs finally gave out and he collapsed against Paul's shoulder, who wrapped his arms around him. Through heavy sobs he heard Paul explain.
"The shock she received to her abdomen was simply too much for the baby to handle. There was acute fetal distress. There was nothing we could do, David. I'm so sorry."
-=- Present -=-
That was the moment that Doctor David King felt his first inklings of fate; the moment he lost his second child, the moment he lost another love to the dark humor of the universe.
So now she was laying in an isolated corner of sickbay, secluded behind a blue fabric curtain, her life monitored and maintained by a bank of machinery hooked into the ship's main computer. There was hope, yes, but not much.
He had decided that day that any light at the end of his tunnel was simply the next freight train coming along right on schedule…
=/-\= End Log =/-\=
Commander David King
Chief Medical Officer
USS Charon NCC-80111
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
From: <ucip.dk@gmail.com>
Date: Sun, Jan 3, 2010 at 11:25 PM
Subject: Fw: SD241001.03 | Personal Log | Dr. D. King | CMO
To: tlsahm@gmail.com
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
-----Original Message-----
From: ucip.dk@gmail.com
Date: Mon, 4 Jan 2010 03:43:36
To: <charon@ucip.org>; Trek - Swan<Swans.mail@gmail.com>
<<OOC: This log takes Lieutenant Aubrey Roberts out of the game until Sarasi returns to Charon. The 'present' takes place after the upcoming jl between myself and Miss Aayla.>>
=/-\= Corridor, Deck Three =/-\=
The day had been a very long one; in fact, the entire week had seemed like an eternity. Since his arrival nearly three months previously on board the Quantum Fury, David King had seen how the crew of the Charon seemed to jump from one bout of excitement to the next. How they managed to keep themselves going was a testament to their strength, as well as to the skills of their commander. Not to mention a great deal of luck.
The doctor had finally managed to finish up the last of his paperwork (namely the ungodly charting that had been necessary after the recent events), and had turned over the reins to the beta shift doctors, resigning himself to bed. There was enough time between now and the next rotation that, with the right medicinal assistance, he should be able to pull in at least a good five or six hours' worth of sleep.
The door to the quarters he shared with Aubrey Roberts was in sight now as he padded down the corridor, his feet shuffling against the carpet of the corridor. As the doors parted he found the room unnervingly quiet, though he didn't have to think hard to remember what had happened…
-=- Some Time Before… -=-
The screams and moans filling sickbay was beginning to become cacophonous, and more patients were being carried in by the moment. Doctor King had taken a moment to quiet the intruder alert klaxon in the medical bay, but there wasn't enough time to silence the injured and maimed. The surgeon was already at work attempting to stabilize some of those who were on the brink of the next life. A thin layer of rainbowed blood from a half-dozen different species colored the floor of sickbay in great patches.
David had his hands against the lacerated arm of a security officer when the call came from across sickbay, "Doctor King! Doctor King, over here!"
Without looking up from his work the Chief Medical Officer replied, "Just find a place along the wall! Triage will see to them as soon as possible." Raising a hand he said to his assisting nurse, he kept his other firmly held against the arm despite the blood seeping through, "Number three autosuture. If we don't get this artery repaired this man isn't going to make it."
"Doctor King!" the voice called again. "I think you really should look at this one! Her medical records indicate a pregnancy!" That was all it took to pull David's attention away from the man on his table. There were only a couple possible people this could be at the moment, and one was bearing his child.
There, to his complete dismay, lay Lieutenant Aubrey Roberts slumped in the arms of the triage technician, unconscious and bleeding from several location with a face purple with bruising.
-=- Present Time -=-
David moved towards the sofa that sat against the large windows looking out at the stars and slumped down onto it. Seeing her like that had nearly broken him. It was like his life had become stuck in this horrible, twisted loop, with the most horrible events of his life replaying over and over. First his family had been killed, then Tia and Elizabeth had been taken, and now Aubrey and their unborn daughter.
A vicious cycle of love and loss apparently doomed to repeat forever.
Was this how he was truly meant to spend his life? Alone, avoiding relationships with others for fear of them becoming victims of the cycle?
For the love of the gods he hoped not. The one lesson he had learned in all of his travels, across all of his missions and duties, was that life was not something to be lived alone.
Fate was not something that David had believed in. Ever. But the more he traveled the universe, and the more he saw and the more he participated in, the closer he came to belief. There was just too much that happened for it to be coincidence.
If not for a guiding power in the universe, how else can one man be doomed to lose two children?
-=- Back in the past… -=-
"Doctor King, the Lieutenant!"
The shout shook David from his momentary state of shock and he turned his gaze quickly back to the medical bay, "Yes. Yes, of course. Get her on a table."
"Not that one, sir," the nurse called, reaching out and grabbing his arm to keep him from moving away. With a tug she pulled him back to the security officer already on his table. "This one, sir."
It took several moments for David to realize what he had been doing. Finally he nodded, "Of course. You're right. Get Doctor Jennings; he's got a history in obstetrics. For this Lieutenant we're going to go in and repair the brachial artery. Inject twenty cc's of lectrazine and let's get this party started."
Of course, the entire time his thoughts were with Aubrey, and though he would never admit it, he may have even muttered a prayer or two as he set about healing the young security officer.
It had been a grueling three hours in sickbay, working on a near continual flood of wounded from across the ship while waiting to hear from Paul. They had moved Aubrey into one of the sterile surgical bays just off of main sickbay, and while they worked there was no word from inside. No news if either of them were going to survive the brutal beating they had taken at the hands of a Romulan boarding party.
Finally, though, Jennings had come out of the surgical bay, his teal-colored body-suit pulled down from his head and his mask in his hands. Another medical officer took over for the Chief Medical Officer as Paul approached, and David refused to make any assumptions. After all, his appearance could simply be from exhaustion.
"David," Paul began, his hands clutching the mask in front of him. "There were complications."
"Complications?" asked King, a growing sense of weakness spreading through his legs. "What kind of complications?"
There was obviously anguish in the eyes of Doctor Jennings as he fought for the right words. Finally he let out a very heavy sigh, "The beating that Lieutenant Roberts took was very severe. There was a great deal of intracranial pressure resulting from the impacts along the base of her skull, as well as six broken ribs and a fractured femur. Already we're seeing the signs of an intracerebral hematoma, but we're doing everything we can to fight it off."
David understood. His glance fell to the floor, "She's in a coma."
"And it's deepening," Jennings confirmed with a solemn nod.
Suddenly David's eyes shot back up, "The baby. What about the baby?"
Again Paul was obviously struggling for words. Finally he simply reached out and took hold of his friend's shoulder, "I'm sorry, David."
"No…oh no…" David called out. His legs finally gave out and he collapsed against Paul's shoulder, who wrapped his arms around him. Through heavy sobs he heard Paul explain.
"The shock she received to her abdomen was simply too much for the baby to handle. There was acute fetal distress. There was nothing we could do, David. I'm so sorry."
-=- Present -=-
That was the moment that Doctor David King felt his first inklings of fate; the moment he lost his second child, the moment he lost another love to the dark humor of the universe.
So now she was laying in an isolated corner of sickbay, secluded behind a blue fabric curtain, her life monitored and maintained by a bank of machinery hooked into the ship's main computer. There was hope, yes, but not much.
He had decided that day that any light at the end of his tunnel was simply the next freight train coming along right on schedule…
=/-\= End Log =/-\=
Commander David King
Chief Medical Officer
USS Charon NCC-80111
Sent from my Verizon Wireless BlackBerry
