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"And miles to go before I sleep"
Jun. 11th, 2010 05:59 pmMuse: Dr. Leonard 'Bones' McCoy
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Words: 527
Prompt: "And miles to go before I sleep."
"And miles to go before I sleep."
I wasn't there when Jim was promoted, hell, when all of us first and second year cadets who had survived the battle with Nero, were being automatically promoted from cadets to officers due to the considerable loss of Starfleet personnel in that battle. I was supposed to be, seems the higher ups decided I earned the permanent position I had temporarily assumed with the chief medical officers aboard the Enterprise had been killed. Jim, aware of the responsibilities he was about to officially take on, had already talked me into staying on the Enterprise. It wasn't all that a hard sell, come on, someone has to be around to keep that pointy eared hobgoblin from going ballistic and choking the shit of Jim. Besides, over the past three years, I seem to have assumed responsibility over the kid and be damned if I am letting him go off into the dangers of space without me.
I make my way around the Academy's hospital facilities, still overloaded with wounded or in need of care. Area hospitals were still overflowing with injuries from the drilling rig of Nero's ship that fell into the San Francisco bay. We had a few of those cases, but most of our wounded came from the Enterprise and other surviving ships as well as a large contingent of injured rescued Vulcans. I have to admit that caring for that group has opened my eyes concerning Vulcans. Like many others, I had assumed they had no emotions. I was witness to one capable of expressing rage, but still, until I had encountered a few, so completely broken by Nero's destruction of their planet that they were openly distraught, crying (although eyes completely dry- Vulcans having no tear ducts, another lesson learned), I had not thought them capable of sadness.
Then there is this elderly Vulcan who is making it a point of seeking me out to speak with me every now and then, Selek I think he calls himself. I swear I saw him a give me the tiniest hint of a smile when I had gone into a rant about the promotions we were about to receive and that one of the bridge crew that would be under my care was just a boy and needed to be back in Russia with his family, not assuming the responsibility of a bridge officer. So, Vulcans are capable of emotions, they have them. I try to keep this in mind when treating them now, even if all I am met with is a cold exterior.
After checking up on a few more patients, I grab a cup of coffee from the replicator and glance at my watch. Admiral Pike will probably be awarding Jim his command now. I would like to be there, I am proud of the kid, but there are too many patients here that need my care. The replicated coffee is disgusting, but I haven't slept in several days. No time. Somewhere down the hall I hear the alarms on a bio-bed going off. Great. I gulp the hot liquid down, desperately needing the caffeine as I take off, running towards the room.
Fandom: Star Trek XI
Words: 527
Prompt: "And miles to go before I sleep."
"And miles to go before I sleep."
I wasn't there when Jim was promoted, hell, when all of us first and second year cadets who had survived the battle with Nero, were being automatically promoted from cadets to officers due to the considerable loss of Starfleet personnel in that battle. I was supposed to be, seems the higher ups decided I earned the permanent position I had temporarily assumed with the chief medical officers aboard the Enterprise had been killed. Jim, aware of the responsibilities he was about to officially take on, had already talked me into staying on the Enterprise. It wasn't all that a hard sell, come on, someone has to be around to keep that pointy eared hobgoblin from going ballistic and choking the shit of Jim. Besides, over the past three years, I seem to have assumed responsibility over the kid and be damned if I am letting him go off into the dangers of space without me.
I make my way around the Academy's hospital facilities, still overloaded with wounded or in need of care. Area hospitals were still overflowing with injuries from the drilling rig of Nero's ship that fell into the San Francisco bay. We had a few of those cases, but most of our wounded came from the Enterprise and other surviving ships as well as a large contingent of injured rescued Vulcans. I have to admit that caring for that group has opened my eyes concerning Vulcans. Like many others, I had assumed they had no emotions. I was witness to one capable of expressing rage, but still, until I had encountered a few, so completely broken by Nero's destruction of their planet that they were openly distraught, crying (although eyes completely dry- Vulcans having no tear ducts, another lesson learned), I had not thought them capable of sadness.
Then there is this elderly Vulcan who is making it a point of seeking me out to speak with me every now and then, Selek I think he calls himself. I swear I saw him a give me the tiniest hint of a smile when I had gone into a rant about the promotions we were about to receive and that one of the bridge crew that would be under my care was just a boy and needed to be back in Russia with his family, not assuming the responsibility of a bridge officer. So, Vulcans are capable of emotions, they have them. I try to keep this in mind when treating them now, even if all I am met with is a cold exterior.
After checking up on a few more patients, I grab a cup of coffee from the replicator and glance at my watch. Admiral Pike will probably be awarding Jim his command now. I would like to be there, I am proud of the kid, but there are too many patients here that need my care. The replicated coffee is disgusting, but I haven't slept in several days. No time. Somewhere down the hall I hear the alarms on a bio-bed going off. Great. I gulp the hot liquid down, desperately needing the caffeine as I take off, running towards the room.
