Lieutenant Kyle Morgan - This Wasn't Supposed to Be My Job
Addison MacKenzie
(( CMO’s Office - Deck 7, USS Artemis-A ))
Kyle sat behind the Chief Medical Officer’s desk staring at the
display on his computer. Staring, though not paying attention to anything on it.
Frustratingly, he slowly tapped his stylus on the surface of the desk, each
time it made contact, it offered a bright clinking sound. Had anyone been close
enough to hear, it’d likely have driven them mad by now, but Kyle didn’t care –
he was mad, too.
Addison. Doctor MacKenzie. Fleet Captain Addison MacKenzie had left – actually
left – and couldn’t have been bothered to find a permanent replacement to
be CMO. Now, he got stuck picking up the slack.
He didn’t study medicine because he liked managing people. He didn’t become a
surgeon because he liked managing people. He hadn’t joined Starfleet because he
liked managing people. And yet, here he was, stuck behind a desk in a role he never
intended to have, never asked for, and was now totally stuck with. And
he was grumpy.
Because he didn’t. Like. Managing. People.
Man, when MacKenzie got back…
He was interrupted by the yellow alert symbol and a notification that appeared
on his PADD lying nearby on the desktop. Picking it up, he saw an alert with
new orders from the bridge: potential triage situation involving the Boraxians.
Shit.
Kyle took a quick breath and sighed audibly as he pushed his chair back from
the desk. Rising from the desk, he scooped up his medical kit nearby and headed
for the door. On his way through the primary Sickbay, he hollered for one of
his colleagues, not stopping while he yelled.
Morgan: Bancroft, let’s go!
The doors swished opened and closed behind Kyle, and then once again as the
offered Bancroft admittance to the corridor. His pace was quick, focused on the
turbolift at the end of the hall, and Bancroft had to hustle to catch up.
Morgan: What do you know about the Boraxians?
Bancroft: Response
He shook his head, still slightly in front of Bancroft.
Morgan: Not as much as I’d like. Who on the team do you think would be
up to speed, or a quick study?
Bancroft: Response
He nodded as they entered the turbolift. When Bancroft was in, the doors closed
behind them.
Morgan: If they’re not on duty, let’s call them in. It’s going to be all
hands on deck, I imagine. (beat) Cargo Bay One.
The hum of the lift moving was audible as he thought to himself: wait, wasn’t he supposed to know who was already on duty?
(( Cargo Bay 1 – Deck 11, USS Artemis-A ))
When the duo entered the cargo bay, Morgan’s shoulders
dropped slightly, relieved at the sight of Lieutenant K’Wara. No doubt the
bridge sent them down to lend a hand. They had no small task in front of them,
after all, and it was going to take personnel from both departments to help get
the space prepped.
Morgan: Boy, Lieutenant, I’m sure glad to see you. ::pointing at the
stacks of heavy containers:: What do you have in these?
K’Wara: Response
He whistled a low whistle and shook his head slowly.
Morgan: You think we’re going to be able to make due with one cargo bay,
or are we going to need two? How many people does the bridge think we’re
expecting?
K’Wara/Bancroft: Responses
He nodded for a good long while, coming to the realization that while he was
waiting for someone to speak up and issue a directive, it was he who was
the lead officer. The burden of responsibility fell to him.
Morgan: Right, then… Lieutenant, it would be great if you could have
your people get all this stuff cleared out of here and into cargo bay two. We’re
going to have to try to make this space work and hope that between here and Sickbay
we’ve got enough space. Bancroft, what equipment are we going to need?
K’Wara/Bancroft: Response
Tag, and TBC!
Lieutenant Kyle Morgan
Interim Chief Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
V239601AM0