Ensign Haukea-Willow - All Said and Done.
Aly Drolet
((Somewhere deep in Miranda VII))
Haukea maneuvers her way over to the injured Andorian, careful not to insight any more rage.
Willow: I’m no doctor but I have basic first aid. Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up? ::She holds up three, her thumb and first two fingers::
She can sense the frustration within the Andorian woman. She likely would have liked to be left alone. She’d say she is fine whether or not she actually was. Not this time…not this time would Haukea allow her to get away with it. Not with the blood dripping down her face.
Sherlock: Beyond whatever's happening in her mind, I'm pretty sure she's concussed. She'd might not be seeing clearly
Willow: Umm…Okay…Wiggle your antennae for me.
Sherlock: That might also be a little hard for her. ::turning back to Paxton and shaking her head:: Why?
Paxton: ::her attention begrudgingly going back to the human security officer:: Why does a bird sing? Why does cat kill when it’s not hungry? ::shrugging slightly:: It’s just my nature.
Besides what Sherlock was telling Haukea, she was doing her absolute best to assess the Andorian woman. Sure, her methods may not have been the most appropriate, but it was about all she could think to do without so much as a tricorder, let alone a medical one. Plus, Haukea-Willow, a security officer, wasn’t much of a medical officer, even with basic first aid. She knew enough to know when someone was injured, how bad, if they needed medical attention and how fast; that was about it.
Willow: I say you might have a concussion but then again. You should see a doctor the moment we get back.
Sherlock: ::back to Willow:: There's the superficial injuries too, a little blood loss.
Paxton: It’s not like I killed her. It’ll grow back.
Nothing a doctor, a proper medical professional couldn’t handle. Haukea was just glad, no matter who said it, to hear that Sh’shelor would get her full antenna back. Nothing like permanent injury to dampen your day.
Willow: Can you walk, we have to get going, now. ::nodding to the Andorian, seemingly satisfied she can at least make it back, she turns towards Sherlock, talking about the enemy woman:: Shall I knock her out? If she is going to come with us…
Sh’shelor: Shut up and help me.
Dara: Do you really have the time or the energy to attempt that?
Willow: ::With a bite:: Try me.
Sherlock: No, I've got her. Everyone, prepare for transport. =/\= Sherlock to Rahuba, four to transport. =/\=
With that Haukea-Willow took hold of Sh’shelor, one arm over her shoulder, once again igniting the pins and needles in her injured shoulder. The Andorian stumbled, the height difference awkward. Yet, Haukea knew from the bite in the other woman’s voice, and the way she actually asked for assistance that she wasn’t going to take the high road and tough it out. Besides, Haukea’s somewhat injured shoulder that sent heavy pins and needles down her arm was insignificant compared to what Sh’shelor went through.
Quickly the blue, gold shimmer of the transporter took the four of them away, replacing the view of the Miranda VII Station with that of the transporter room on the Rahuba. Safety. At least momentarily.
The enemy woman, who Haukea still hadn’t learned the name of, put her hands up in surrender.
Paxton: I will tell you what you desire; but I want something in return.
Willow: That depends.
Sherlock: You're not really in a position to make demands, y'know. But go ahead, state your request.
Paxton: I want the brain scans. I’ll settle for one if Starfleet is as squeamish as I imagine…I just need to see…::emphatic:: I need to know!
The Chief merely shook her head. The enemy was obsessed with creating a universe in their image.
Sherlock: Why?
Paxton: Those that have been exposed won’t get ‘better,”…or at least much. Results have been variable. ::waving her hand in a dismissive manner:: It’s an irreversible antagonist – well…almost. It’s never ideal to generate something absolute. It backs you into a corner.
Willow: Our scientists and doctors will find a way.
Paxton: It got me here. The galaxy is now full of possibilities.
Willow: oO You aren’t wrong. I just wish you saw those possibilities differently. Oo
Sherlock let out a long sigh. Probably realizing herself that she had no appropriate reply to the statement. Hope was a powerful thing.
Sherlock: Very well. I'll make sure you get what you need. But for now, you're coming with me. Willow, take Sh'shelor to Sickbay, get her fixed up and sedated if need be. And tell the docs to send me the scans.
Haukea-Willow did as such, moving as swiftly as able until Sh’shelor fainted, losing consciousness. Thankfully they were close enough to sickbay to manage, Haukea calling out for a doctor, relaying what had happened and the injuries known to be sustained. Likewise, Haukea requested, though strange, for the doctors to send Chief Sherlock any scans taken, for official business.
End Scene.
Ensign Haukea-Willow
Security
Starbase 118 Ops
M239512BG0
"One thing I've learned from my parents and from observing all the artists I've been lucky enough to grow up around is that you've got to be brave." - Maya Hawke