Pyrrhic Aftermath
Posted on Sat Mar 19th, 2016 @ 7:48am by Lieutenant JG Ricki St. Louis & Ensign Monday Starr & 2nd Lieutenant Scooter Porkinsky
Mission:
By Dawn's Early Light
Location: Recovery Locations
Timeline: post battle
[ON]
Scooter Porkinsky sat in a motionless stare atop his damaged Razor fighter craft. He wasn't the kind to measure success by the number of kills. He measured it by denying the enemy kills, of which they had many. Mechanics found his uncharacteristic subdued mood to be worrisome. "You all right, Lieutenant?"
He shook his head slowly, "You can never win a war sitting and waiting for an enemy to attack at his own pleasure. The only way to throw their cyclic assaults is to go hunt them down."
"Maybe so, but that isn't our call to make."
Scooter slid down, "No, it isn't. It's the politicians', and that's the problem." He kicked at a landing strut, "Who designed this piece of junk?"
Surgeon Ricki St. Louis was also one to measure victory in lives saved, which meant that there wasn't much cause for celebration at the moment. For doctors and their medical staffs, the battle didn't end along with the gunfire. For many survivors, a lifelong battle against maiming injuries was just beginning. She methodically transitioned from primary first aide into secondary reconstruction in silence. Some hurt and angry voices around her asked the timeless question 'why?'. Others lashed out in their pain with accusations against Starfleet.
One patient noticed Ricki's Vulcanesque lack of trauma. "Aren't you mad about all this?"
She continued working, replying with calm and quiet tone, "I apologize if I lack a good bedside manner. But I must focus my energies on doing my job properly." It was a half-truth. Even if it was understandable, she still found their unhelpful complaining to be born of an annoying lack of discipline. Her mindset wasn't uncommon to medics who couldn't afford to be emotionally consumed by the agony around them.
Sharp criticism was to be found elsewhere in the aftermath of battle. Ens. Monday Starr found herself on the receiving end of harsh criticism from a security officer. "You just LET him take Steiner and Jasmine AWAY?"
Her expression remained blank and unemotional, "What reason would I have to refuse? He had a ship, we didn't. We had wounded that needed intensive care support." Noting that the man didn't seem to care about those facts, Monday proceeded to defend herself, "An audit of my accesses to main computer will prove that I did verify his status as an officer. He was of superior rank, and therefore in a position to command immediate rescue actions."
Again, the man avoided acknowledging that salient points, "Didn't you think it was ODD that an intel officer was flying around playing Florence Nightingale?"
"I would think it 'odd' if anyone who had a ship didn't help in whatever ways he could." She folded her hands, "I won't be brow beaten into thinking that I did something wrong. If you're of the opinion that I did, then we will see how your arguments stand up in front of a review board."
The man returned a fierce, resentful glare. Rightful or not, defiance from lower ranks was a timeless provocation in any military.
One of Monday's flaws was, she all too often chose being right over being conciliatory, "If that is all, then I have urgent tasks needing attention." At receiving no reply, she turned away, "Good day, Sir."
[OFF]
2nd Lt. Scooter Porkinsky
Dr. Ricki St. Loius
Ens. Monday Starr
Starbase 332
Pegasus Fleet
