Infirmary/Medical Bay

He walked with even metre and tried his best to act like he knew where he was going. If there was one thing he disliked more than being out of place it was looking like he was out of place. The five minute ambling promenade was cut short by a helpful crew member seeing through his ruse. After a brief exchange and admission Marcus was lost; the man said he had saw Doctor Mackenzie going to a medical bay leading two soldier-types. The doctor thanked the man and getting his bearings, headed to the med-bay. The sooner he reported to the Chief Medical Officer and straightened this foible out the sooner he could retreat to the isolation of work; away from more social crew members with arsenals of questions and nonsensical stories of their childhood.

Sure enough the was a doctor there assessing what he would definitely deem a "soldier type". He smoothed his greying hair to a relaxed neatness and wished he had a chance to shave. Female doctors had a reputation; one of stern, humourless management and a first impression was always a lasting one. Marcus sighed and rapped twice on the bulkhead before entering the bay.

"Doctor Mackenzie, I have a matter I would like to discuss with you. I'm Doctor Marcus Bergman and I believe I have been assigned to the incorrect area." He paused and looked towards the two men, here for care not to wait while administrative matters were debated. "Forgive the intrusion, I can wait until these men are cared for. I'm not really going anywhere." He nodded to the woman and folded his hand behind his back.

Jon

At the Faith's statement Jon began stripping the suit, a difficult task to do as one person normally with his good arm. He wasn't shy about being naked, something years of service did to even the most shy of servicemen. It took him a lot of effort but he eventually got the chest piece off, it fell heavily to the ground. He paused bare chested, just in case a full strip was needed; he doubted that he'd need to remove the leggings to get his shoulder patched.

"We just gonna patch the shoulder or is a full physical coming with it," he asked beginning the removal process of the leggings. If he was getting a full physical, he wasn't going to keep her waiting long for him to fully strip.

Marcus Bergman

He nodded at the woman. "Of course I understand the position would encompass all the duties required of one in the medical field. I was under no allusion the arrangement would be a laboratory staffing; though my speciality is viral replication and pathogenesis I am fully accredited in internal medicine." Marcus had secretly hoped he would not have to treat the scrapped knees and only appear to administer inoculations. The man was tentative in undertaking such a progressive assignment. There would no doubt be several people with demands he didn't want to field. Why does it hurt when I do this; what does this look like; did I get it from a toilet seat. All thought provoking inquiries better suited for a field medic, yet here he was.

Marcus smoothed the front of his shirt, certain this Doctor Mackenzie was judging him by appearance alone. She looked tired already and they were barely underway. The man understood the minutiae with being the head of any department, in medicine it was even more stressful; constantly understaffed, underfunded and under appreciated. Marcus had worn that hat before yet the real headache was there was always a higher-up to appease. "I missed the orientation this is true, I have no excuse as to why but when I found myself assigned to a science section I assumed there was a mix up." He paused. "Something likely that could have been sorted at the briefing." The man relented. "If you could tell what is to be expected of me, I prefer to be thorough regardless of the duties exciting or otherwise.Any help I can offer Doctor Mackenzie would be no trouble at all." That was a lie, it would be bothersome but Marcus was always pleasant when dealing with administrators.

Marcus Bergman

Marcus managed to crack a terse smile. "Nurses are usually an invaluable source of both medical professionalism and pithy retorts I have found." A statement which was a general truth and one gleaned from Doctor Bergman's personal experience. "I once had the pleasure of working with a nurse called Meredith, she was seventy five years old if not older and when she retired productivity decreased forty-three percent." He paused. "If you are lucky all the nurses will be as she was, leaving you to simply tell us 'job well done' and to break out some good liquor now and then." He wondered if the woman was the type of administrator that wanted to know all her workers on a first-name basis, to blur that line between cordiality and fondness. Marcus realised this was not a hospital nor was it a university; this was a ship traversing a very dark and empty space where colleagues might be the only semblance of friendship one could experience. Perhaps Doctor Mackenzie felt the same way; there would be no internal memo welcoming staff, not for her - she was going to visit everyone and invited him to accompany her.

"I would be pleased to walk with you Doctor; a mere Captain going with the General going to survey her troops as it were." He smiled. "I do think the conversation would be interesting at the very least as I had thought only boring men had a fascination with virology, but as quickly becoming a boring old man myself we do tend to make a lot of assumptions." She went on to deliver a brief introduction, issue some work and demand a full inventory of supplies from a woman who frankly looked dejected to be singled out. "You know Doctor Mackenzie," He stopped, she wanted to be called 'Doc' he remembered. "Ah, Doc we should prepare some literature about "Space-Sniffles", general maladies from the clean environment of space travel that makes our immune systems think even inherent superfluous enzymes to be world-enders. The crew can expect the common cold within the first month of travel, they should be made aware as to not panic that a space plague is upon us."

Doctor Bergman had read several case studies on the feelings of isolation, apprehension and minor illnesses that are common with space travel and without positive reinforcement those patients can become intemperate, causing more problems than are needed. He wondered if there was counsellor on board; after all, psychiatric and internal medicines go hand in hand. "Doc, I heard you mention a bar? Perhaps we could visit that, after the promenade to the other med-bays of course. Call it an informal meeting; I must admit I am curious to know how such a young woman found her self in such a key assignment, your qualifications must be impeccable." Understandably Marcus was intrigued by a woman that was probably no more than thirty years of age holding a position reserved for those far older. He called up memories of Doctor Percy, a man with sour ideals that belonged in museum as he hadn't practised medicine in over twenty five years. Percy had been about 'tried and true' methods and new developments he felt were 'homoeopathic twaddle'. That was the type of administrator Marcus had dealt with; personified misery and to be working with Doctor Mackenzie who by all accounts seemed amiable was refreshing.

A smile formed at his lips then quickly faded. "I meant no offence by that comment mind you, simply attempting to be informal by your request ma'am." He folded his arms behind his back making his way to the exit. Marcus hoped she didn't misinterpret his commentary as derogatory or a personal slight; the man was worried as in his experiences most administrators assumed everything was belittling.

Hyena pulls her head back out of the compartment to face Faith just as Max pulls his stunt. It doesnt go as unnoticed as the AI would've hoped, seeing as how it's hard to ignore a light fixture blowing, but he's obviously got more on his mind now then just looking over peoples' shoulders via security cameras.

"I didnt do it!" the pilot declares preemtively, holding up her hands as the very picture of innocence.

For the human compliment of the space, the virtual drama goes on unnoticed, and she doesnt give the event a second thought. Stuff broke all the time, and her target was in sight. Jess flashes Faith the same toothy, vaguely predatory smile that she'd been wearing during the breifing when the doctor had first spotted the pilot.

"Piss bottles, Doc. The advantages of wearing a flightsuit; the bathroom comes with you." Ew. Not that she was wearing the full space-worthy combat rig that she would don in the cockpit, but the joke was just too easy to NOT make.

Sharp blue eyes evaluate Marcus, whom she didnt recognize, before she claps her hands together and rubs them vigorously. Scheming might be the best way to describe the pose, but there was nothing malicious in her attitude, just mischevious.

"Cant help but noticed you used two of my favorite words a second ago, though, Doc. If it's a bar and some smokes you're looking for, me and a few guys are starting to plan a little .. ah.. get together. You know, morale meet-and-greet and all of that. Strictly informal, since I dont think I ever did officially catch your name - Hyena, by the way. Or MacPhearson if you want to be formal about it."

And if either of them had any experience dealing with personnel skilled in the technically-legal double-talk that Hyena was fluent in, they would know full well that the event they'd just been invited to was similarly less then official. If they preffered to toe the legal line, they could still decline and claim that they legitimately thought she was planning something completely above-board. If they had a mind to turn her in, she could read it in their response and neglect to give an accurate time and location. But if they were amiable to the idea of participating in such shenanigans, then let 'er rip.

Her gaze finds Marcus again, and the grin hasnt wavered, "You're invited too, yeah? And anyone else you can think might want in. We've gotta get to know eachothers' ugly mugs at some point on this trip, right?"

Marcus found himself flush. "Ah Doctor, I'm sure when you get to know me you'll find me quite cantankerous and ill-tempered though unfortunately I never stop being handsome; it's a gift and a curse." Dear God, did he just say that? There must be something in the air to make him so lax as to forget his staunch idiom. Was Doctor Mackenzie so disarming or were his terrestrial problems far enough away they did not weigh him down? He smiled, pleased how existential his thinking has been since on ship. The psychiatrist he saw after his wife's death had loved to spout nonsense about 'internal self evaluation', multiple choice stress tests and dream journals. Dream. Journal. Christ, he was a 40 year old man why the fuck would he keep a dream journal? Ridiculous. Though that charlatan and his pseudo-science didn't stop the feelings of guilt, perhaps this ship would.

She had managed to surprise him with her talk of war-zone medicine. "Some say there is no greater duty then serving as a doctor in that capacity, putting toy soldiers back together so the Generals don't have to buy new ones; is how my father put it. He was not a fan of war, absolutely hated conflict. My grandfather was in the Afghanistan campaign and filled his head with horrors so one could assume he would not have a taste for battle." Evaluating Doctor Mackenzie from just the small amount of time they spent together, Marcus came to the conclusion that she was a capable professional that was in a leadership position where mettle and steadfastness were paramount to the station. "I hope you don't think I was questioning your ability earlier, far from it I find you rather refreshing. In fact -"

He was distracted by a young woman in pilot's costume milling about looking for something. Doctor Mackenzie seemed to feel the same and asked if she needed the toilet; to which the woman replied she would simply urinate in her suit. He frowned at the uncouth comment but that's how the military was; crudeness and bravado smattered with sexual tension. The woman went on to tell the two doctors about a party in the most intentionally vague way possible. "Where would this gathering take place?" Marcus asked. "Is there a secret knock to get in and where is it?" He smiled, parties kept from the attention of higher-ups were common in every setting; to be included in the festivities was a welcomed change as he was considered a "higher-up" for going on ten years now. Did he just hear her introduce herself as Hyena? A pilot's moniker he assumed. "Marcus Bergman, charmed. Are you called Hyena due to your unique smile or as an homage to the Hyena's mystery? Until modern biology they were unclassifiable; you know Plato even had wrote that they were not quite of felines and not quite of canines but possessed traits from both and held human evilness in their eyes."

Reel it in Marcus don't fuck it up and not get invited to any more social events. "You know Hyena, I am no stranger to clandestine soirées; I was quite irreverent in my youth." He turned to Doctor Mackenzie "I think it would be our duty to show up if nothing but as a medical presence. God forbid if someone was hurt; imagine the paperwork." He surprised himself; but things that he carried around like a penance before now just seemed like inconsequential foibles that could be dismissed easily. Doctor Bergman smiled, but then that damn psychiatrist crept into his head Marcus nothing is as easy as self-deceit, whatever one wishes makes it true. Perhaps that was true, but he would consider this a victory nonetheless.

When questioned about her unorthodox introduction, Jess spreads her hands palms-up and the grin - if it was physically possible - just widens, "Plato? Shit, I'm in classy company, then. A little bit of that. I also apparently laugh my ass off in a fight. Besides, 'Jessica' sounds way too stuffy, so hey! If you've got an excuse to introduce yourself with a kick-ass nickname, why not?!" Here she adds a self-mocking bow to the end of the statement.

As they both accept, she nods, pleased with herself and the results of the 'mission' so far. "Fantastic, guys. I cant promise stupid things wont happen, but I can tell 'em to cancel converting the pressure washer to blast vodka."

It's difficult to tell if she's entirely joking...

All told, it's difficult to read anything about the pilot at all beyond the show of teeth and irreverent attitude. One could easily assume she was about as deep as a rain puddle. But smile notches down to a vaguely knowing smirk as the two doctors return to talking more to eachother then to her, and she lifts her hand in an idle farewell wave.

"Tonight, two decks down from the Hangar. The space is marked for structural support, it's easy to find. And yeah, the secret knock is 'shave and a haircut'. Isnt it always? I need to scare up a few more bodies; have fun, docs."

Turning away from the pair, Jess is intent on heading next to the Mess Hall. People were always there, even if they were only getting a sandwich. It was the unofficial heart of the ship, and the very best place to start spreading the rumor of the party. Even now, some people may be slowly clueing in as the 'hey did you hear' network begins to work its magic. Things would start getting very interesting when folks began bargaining for entrance; promising to contribute this or that smuggled good in exchange for the where and when of it. By the end of the week, Hyena would have a whole new catalogue of contacts on the ship who could be trusted to have whatever items she wanted or needed at a particular moment.

Marcus laughed. "I'll have you know madam Doctor, I tend to be very grumpy most days but feel more at ease here aboard the Salient than I have in many months." He cleared his throat. "As far as coital rituals I'm a bit out of practice but I trust the tried and true "I'm a doctor" still works like a charm as it has for centuries." She was a charming woman, there was an ease in conversation and frankly it would be nice to have some drinks and get involved in trite conversation; to simply shut his brain off and relax for the evening. He assumed Doctor Mackenzie was probably extra chatty with a few drinks in her, to his chagrin he was as well.

With Hyena leaving he turned to the other doctor. "I hope you know where that is. I am still finding this ship full of crannies that are left undiscovered it's not so much the place is difficult to navigate, simply that I have little desire to travel.” He paused. “On another topic I really hope everyone behaves themselves, I don’t really feel inclined to be covered in vomit by some pilot that can’t hold their drink. I almost regret mentioning we could be at the gathering in a semi-professional capacity.” He frowned. “Perhaps Hyena took my comment as jocularity; unless you always need to wear the chief medical officer hat, in which case I shall be a diligent little bee to your Queenship.”

His smile faded with the onset of warning sirens. Was there trouble so soon? He assumed it was likely a drill, military vessels loved drills. "I hope this won't cancel the party, Doctor Mackenzie." There could be a real possibility something was truly amiss; something that may lead to corpses. He definitely needed a drink now. "On the off chance this isn't a drill - should we post at the med-bay and wait for possible casualties? Or are you more proactive and we're going to the front?" He remembered she was a war-medic, shit; that means he would have to be too.

"That line really work for you?" Faith shook her head. "Whenever I've tried it the men run a mile. Damn think you might have to teach me a few tricks whilst we're on this tour."

She started walking again, continuing down the corridor to where the next med bay was or at least where she hoped it was. She knew it was going to take her a while to truly figure this behemoth of a ship out.

"Lets just say that no one had better be an idiot and see how much booze they can inhale because I will not be impressed if I have to interrupt my smoking time to pump their stomach. As for always being on the job well I can't just forget that I am a doctor but at the same time I get very cranky when I'm bothered when I'm not on duty. Someone had really better be dying before they bother me in the middle of the night!"

That wasn't really true, Faith was many things, but she was not the sort of person to turn away from someone who needed her help but no one said she had to smile while helped them. When the klaxons sounded she jumped ever so slightly, not out of fear but because they reminded her of others she had heard and had not expected to hear again, she frowned fiercely in irritation.
Get a grip Faith She admonished herself.

"Come on, we need to get to the med bay. We need to ensure the staff there aren't running around like sheep. We will wait there for patients for now but if need be I will go to them if they cannot be moved."

She increased her stride and reached the second med bay shortly after, she was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the staff seemed relatively calm and were carrying out the necessary preparations for possible incoming injured. She looked at each member of staff in turn trying to memorise their faces as that was all she would have time for now.

"Okay people listen up." She called becoming business like as soon as she entered the area. "Though this could be a drill we are not going to treat it as such. Any moment we could have injured rolling in here and I expect us to be prepared. That said you all look like you know what you're doing so I'm going to trust that you do. Carry on."

After walking around the room and assuring herself they were as ready as they could be, and after she had communications from the other three medical bay's to advise they were also prepared and on standby, she contacted the bridge.

"This is Chief medical Director Mackenzie reporting that all medical bays are on standby, ready to receive any wounded."

Marcus really was just making a joke, opening a line of communication with someone by dropping you were a doctor was a cheap ploy made to dazzle cretins; simple vacuous women with little desire to compare vocations and more concerned with feeling some façade of affection . He smiled. "I think it’s much different for an intelligent woman, most men really want a simple, easy to fool female; a woman with a brain threatens them." He walked with her, his hands folded behind his back. "I find ignorant people in general unsatisfying; a beautiful, intellectual woman is a welcomed addition to any table or setting. I’m saddened that meaningful conversation seems to be going extinct."

He found most people when they knew there was a doctor present they cast off that inkling of ‘maybe I shouldn’t do this because I might get hurt’. A doctor was a free pass to behave with reckless abandon. "Unfortunately Doctor I feel we may indeed be bothered. As much as I would like to ignore people during my off duty hours, I took an oath which I think in the small print was a clause that said available all the time, but as you say I also can be very cranky when treating their ails."

Doctor Bergman was impressed at the woman’s conviction but he was more of a pragmatist. "Doctor Mackenzie I would say your expertise would be better suited in a supervisory role. You can’t personally greet every incoming patient at the hanger door. Let your people work for you, they are all trained professionals." He wondered what was going on and if the medical staff really would be needed. If a pilot took fire and explosive decompression happened they would need a janitor not a doctor. In the case of a hostile force boarding the ship, that could be messy; miles of gauze and pounds of coagulant.

"What do you need of me? I’m no trauma surgeon but I can stitch up the random laceration and give general triage assessment. I’m at your service Doc." In truth he was relativity new to this. He set broken arms, treated hypochondriacs with sugar pills; simple jobs to break up the monotony of his eighteen hours of laboratory research. Getting his hands truly dirty was something department heads did not do. Yet, if Doctor Mackenzie was so quick get elbow-deep in hollow viscous organs he could try to be as well.

Eli had returned to his quarters after leaving the Hangar Control Tower. He was battered, the mission aboard the frigate had shot his nerves, and he knew he wasn’t ready for another go yet. Luckily the pirates weren’t even close to send boarding parties onto the Salient. He had already detached himself from his operation equipment, no longer donning a weighted combat suit. Now he was relaxed in his black t-shirt and cargo pants. The pair of dog tags hanging from his neck, jostling for eminence on his chest as he walked.

He was heading towards the Mess Hall to find something to eat; he had worked up an appetite, considering he hadn’t eaten lunch today. He didn’t expect many people to be in the Mess Hall, they’d probably be in the Bridge or the Observation Decks watching the fireworks. At least he’d have some quiet time, after the hell he went through today.

His squad had disbanded and dispersed to various places. Adriana was probably in the Engineering Center, tending to the main cannon. The Sarge and the two privates were probably in the Rec center, cooling down after the mission. It was good to have some R&R, especially when their first day sent them out on a mission that was life-threatening.

Somewhere in the middle of his path to the Mess, he stopped himself, and retracted his steps. He decided instead to head to the infirmary. He sauntered along the sterilized corridor of the Infirmary, as the medical crews were busy operating on wounded servicemen, inside the zero-g surgery chambers. He passed by those chambers, and approached the many recovery quarters. One of which was occupied by a celebrity.

A holographic strip, located above the blast door, with running letters read out “Elizabeth Waltz.” The Captain raised his ID card, and swiped it across the holographic interface module. The door opened with a sliding swish once the module had clarified his identity.

Eli walked in, cautiously. The room was, like the rest of the infirmaries, sterilized free of any speck of dust or invisible micro-organic pathogen. Of course, the rest of the Salient was just as clean, but the infirmaries were kept at peak cleanliness, thanks to the androids that waxed, buffed, and washed the floors, and bulkheads.

Elizabeth was standing by a port view, watching the battle outside, with her back turned to Eli. She could only watch, for the sound of cannons and torpedoes were silenced by the thick layer of plexi-glass. Her multiple lacerations were healing now, as the nanotech lasers patched up the wounds. Eli could only wonder about her experiences aboard the pirate ship.

“How are you feeling Ms. Waltz?”

"...Where is he...? Where is Ulric?" She asked plain and simply, her arms crossed one over the other. "I want a status report on him... I want to know if hes alive o-or not..." She did not turn to see Eli, nor did it seem she even cared she was naked, though she was turned away form him.

Her stay on the ship so far had been boring. Filled with sleep, and tests after tests. Slowly she turned to Eli and grabbed her robe, throwing it on to cover herself up. As she looked at him her face was blank, with her long blonde hair neatly tied up in a ponytail on the back of her head. "I'm sorry sir... Where are my manners..." It was a 360 change from her simply starring at the window with a blank face, at least now she showed emotion. With a sigh she walked over to Eli and reached her hand out to him.

"Elizabeth Waltz, but i think you already know that. What is your name...?"

Before Eli could respond to her first inquiry, he shifted his face away from her as she turned, so as to avoid staring at her nudity. After she had slid into her medical robe, decently covered, he turned back to face her.

"Captain Eli Colter, ma'am..." he said.

He paused when she continued staring at him in the eye. From a glance, Elizabeth seemed to be fully recovering, all her wounds, cuts, and bruises were nowhere to be found on her body. It seemed that the nano-biological surgery had succeeded in patching her up, no scars were visible. However, the way she cradled herself belied this appearance, and Eli didn't know what to do.

Then he sighed and looked away momentarily before responding to her first question.

"He's still on the pirate frigate, I don't know what he's doing on there. Maybe he's committing sui-," Eli paused as his view reverted to her. Her eyes were worn and she looked very distressed.

"Maybe he has something planned with that bomb on there, but I don't know for sure," he paused.

"I'm sure he'll be fine," Eli tried to console her as best he could, but it was very hard to maintain the facade. Things were happening now, and uncertainty loomed on the horizon. If she had asked him to guarantee that Ulric would be safe, Eli would not have known what to say. He couldn't make promises that he couldn't keep. That had been his moral ever since Mars. Back then, he could simply tell his squad mates they were going to be fine, and that would have been enough. After many missions, he said it freely, and even promised that they would get home safely. Mars shattered that invulnerability.