((Outside Sickbay, Deck 5, USS Atlantis, en Route DS26, approximately 12 hours after destruction of enemy ship))
:: Serala said outside the doors of sickbay trying to calm the roil of emotions going on inside her. It was at times like this that she envied Vulcans and their ability to shut out their emotions. Right now she was feeling anger, fear, and...something else she couldn't identify. Oh, and relief as well
:: Twelve hours. Twelve. That was how long it had taken for her to learn that Raga was still alive. She had been so caught up in her rage at his death that she had missed Commander Williams’ transmission that he was alive but in need of urgent medical care. Instead, she had believed he had died when his shuttle had self-destructed. And had kept on believing that until, while helping with cleanup on Deck 3, near her quarters (which had blissfully received only minor damage), Pretty Officer Johnson from operations had made casual mention of how fortunate Raga was that the Commander had beamed him out just in time and that he hoped the “young man makes it.” Stunned, she had started hard at him for several long seconds before angrily asking him to clarify.
:: Now, here she was, standing outside sickbay, a mass of conflicted emotions. Toryn was, currently, her best friend. Others had just recently been made: Logan, Jann, and Knight, to name three, but Toryn had been the first. And she didn't make friends easily. It was too hard for most to see past the pointed brow ridges and ears, the green blood. But Toryn had. Now he was lying on a biobed, near death and in a coma.
:: Realizing she wasn't going to get her emotions under control, she steeled herself as best she could and entered sickbay. A red-haired woman greeted her.::
EMH: Ensign Serala, isn't it?
Serala: Yes doctor. I would compliment you on your memory, but since it's the ship's computer, I hardly think it necessary.
:: She caught sight of Toryn then and years choked her voice and welled in her eyes. Seeing the direction her gaze, the EMH spoke up. ::
EMH: He's getting better, Ensign. We've managed to reattach his arm, although is going to take some time and possibly several surgeries to get it fully functional again. There's some swelling in the brain that's causing the coma, but it is coming down quite quickly. We are hopeful that he will awaken soon.
Serala: Will his arm be functional enough for him to return to duty?
EMH: It is too early to tell yet, but I suspect hell be capable of doing his job. He will have some motor control issues for a little while, but that will pass.
:: She was glad. He was still young. To be forced to change careers could be devastating for someone like him. Thanking the doctor, she moved over to stand by him, then bent over to whisper in his ear. ::
Serala: :: whispering :: If you weren't already laid up in this bed, I would take steps to put to here myself, you arrogant bastard. My first friend in many years and you go and try to blow yourself up!? :: Standing, and speaking louder. I think I will just stay here and keep to company until I have to go on duty. Can't have you pulling anymore stunts.
:: Serala grabbed a stool and placed it near him, then sat down to guard over her unconscious friend. Several hours later, the EMH woke her to inform her she was scheduled for duty. Regretfully, she left, promising him that she would be back as soon as her shift was over. ::