PNPC Ensign Tzim-Shah: You people owe me one.
Alieth
((Corridor close to Main Sickbay, Deck 7, USS Gorkon))
Shah's day just kept getting better and better, first a need to get a check-up, because it wasn't enough to lose an arm for Starfleet, but he had to be the circus monkey for all those quacks. Then, of course, that thing had started to hurt like hell and, of course, the one who had found him in that predicament had been none other than Doctor Babyface. As if he needed any more pity and civility. For his grandmother’s beard, did that man have no backbone at all?
Nevertheless, he let himself be guided towards the sickbay door, leaning heavily on the puny doctor, his right hand clenching the stump where his dominant arm had been, as the yellow fabric of the rolled-up sleeve on his shoulder started to stain with blood. As usual.
Tzim-Shah: What a stupid wound that won't heal.
The frustrated, pained grunt was partially drowned out by the clatter of his boot-worn hooves and the beep-boop of all the medical gizmos and by a fiercely Tellarite huff that said anyone who dared to look more than half a second in his direction was going to have more than a word with him. A threat he couldn't carry out right now, but which he would write down in his book of grievances. After all, if there was one thing the Tellarites and the engineers were good at, it was keeping up a grudge. And Shah came from an infamous line of both.
Goddamn engineers, because of one of them he was in such a predicament.
Tagren-Quinn: Ensign, let’s have a seat over the bio-bed so we can have a look. Please.
He was about to refuse. To say that he had spent enough time in one of those fiendish contraptions and that he preferred to be on his hooves and with one arm (his ONLY arm) ready to punch him if he dared to hurt him. But he was sore and tired and not as eager to argue as usual, so he just flopped heavily on that gurney with delusions of grandeur. With a fed-up grunt, though.
Tzim-Shah: Well how ready to cut me another slice or is that your big-eared girlfriend's business?
I had to hand it to the sawbones who didn't flinch an iota, and if he went about his business as if I had just asked him if he had had a good day, as the middling sort used to do.
He even gave him a hand to get on the stretcher while a nurse looked at them as if she had never seen a one-armed alien in her life.
Tagren-Quinn: Does it seem to be oozing blood all the time or is it after you make movements?
Tzim-Shah: Who knows. I wake up and I have to replicate new sheets every day, I go to get something and it does that too. It's fantastic when I eat, because it's awkward enough eating with the right hand without that thing trying to drive me up the wall. What do you think, Doc? It does it all the time.
Of course, he did not add the detail that it was... or had been at least, his dominant hand and that, of course, he still intended to use it more often than not. When it hurt was when he remembered it wasn't there. The rest of the time it was as if it was still there, he could feel the fingers moving, the tingle of the fabric against his arm. What a stupid thing to do.
I wasn't going to tell that new kid that he was that daft.
Dr. Babyface tapped a few buttons to activate the bio-bed and the thing started to show a lot of little lights and little colours.
Tagren-Quinn: Okay. Would you mind if we helped you out of your tunic so we can get a better look?
Dr. Babyface tapped a few buttons to activate the bio-bed and the thing started to show a lot of little lights and little colours.
Shah looked away for a while and stared at the nurse as if he could pulverise him. Maybe he could, who knows, he had the fire of a thousand suns in his body, or at least that's what that bloody wound felt like.
Tzim-Shah: C'mon, lend me a hand, it's not as if I've had a surplus of them lately.
Tagren-Quinn: Response
With more help than he wanted to admit, they managed to strip him from the waist up, bristly hair covering much of his skin, except, of course, the area around his arm. The whole area was still blackened and bald, half-healed blisters around the affected area, the wound as tender and ugly as a harbour engineer immediately after waking up.
Tzim-Shah: Beautiful, isn't it? I'm sure when you got your diploma at the academy, you didn't expect to find something like this on the very first day.
Tagren-Quinn: Response
Tzim-Shah: ::with an embarrassed huff.::Well, in my defence, I will say that you have a baby face. ::His little eyes followed the doctor's hands as he poked around...just in case.:: So what, when are you going to give me a new arm? I think I deserve it no, that wacky techie owes me one at least
Tagren-Quinn: Response
Ensign Tzim-Shah
Security Officer on Sick Leave
USS Gorkon NCC-82293
E239702A10