Summary: Thorn and Thea have an off-kilter conversation while they get their wounds addressed, and Praxis stops by with some potentially disturbing news.
Date: PHD092 (20 July 2009)
Related Logs: Grand Theft Tylium

Thorn and Thea are a pair. Both of them are in flight suits. Both flight suits are covered in blood. Thea's without her helmet, sitting quietly on the end of a bed while her wound is looked at. "Keep talking to me, Thorn," she says quietly as a corpsman peels her flight suit off. Ahhh, one bloody hand, one bloody shoulder, both on the same side. "You did good out there tonight. But keep talking to me."

Camille has been pulled out of bed in the oncall room, the surgeon supposedly needed for whatever is going on and that's why she's here. Hastily shoving a cap across her red hair she dashes towards the sink to quickly, but thoroughly, begin to scrub up. She calls into the room quickly, "Report? What's happened?" All business and readiness to work in her sleep husky voice.

Thorn, for his part, is lying on his bed, a deathly pallor on his face, though whether from the actual wound or simply the fact that he's been shot is anyone's guess. His voice is raspier than usual, and accompanied by a tremor one normally doesn't hear from him. "'m still here," comes a ragged reply. "Frak me…" That last is a little quieter, probably directed at himself.

Praxis walks into the medibay at a rather brisk pace, a clipboard in his hands while he makes his entry. Glancing once down at the sheet and back up to view the wounded pilots, he takes a pencil captured between his lips and scribbles down on the sheet he has in front of him. Demitros reports to Camille as soon as he enters. "Two wounded from an operation down on Scorpia, they just got in." he mentions to the doctor, eyes crossing over Thorn and Thea for a brief moment. "Sir." he finally addresses Legacy, his chin raising slightly. "My computer system had experienced a strange anomaly shortly after your departure. I have reason to suspect it wasn't a simple technical problem. I'm currently investigating further into the cause…"

"Centurion fire," Thea tells Camille simply, quietly. "Thorn is worse off than I am," says the woman with twin holes in her body and a good bit of blood everywhere but where it should be. "We've been over that, Thorn. I already told you that I can only frak you on alternate Tuesdays when there's a full moon." There's a hint of a laugh in her voice, a vague hint. But it fades when Praxis gives his report. "Damnit," she murmurs. "What kind of anomaly, Lieutenant?" She glances around, apparently realizing about classification issues.

Camille gives a quick glance to Praxis, the smallest of smiles cutting across her business like features, before she finishes scrubbing up and allows a nurse to help dry her hands and slip on gloves over cleaned palms. "Lieutenant…is a technical report utterly necessary while they are bleeding out on my beds?" She inquires, almost curtly, though there is a hint of laughable concern behind it too as she heads straight for Komnenos' chest and motions for a nurse to cut away the damaged uniform so she can get a quick assessment of the injury… "Bad area but lucky hit it looks like… not enough blood to have hit anything absolutely vital. And you sit down, captain, you're getting the redstuff everywhere too."

"Hnh," Thorn grunts. He starts to laugh, but it degenerates into a mild cough about halfway through. "If y' find that someone's crossed out all the days on your calendar t' read Tuesday, you'll know who did it, then." The pale attempt at humor is probably a good sign. "Now just t' wait for a full moon…" He's not so out of it, though, that he misses Praxis' report. He's staring at the bridge officer curiously as the medical personnel cut away his flightsuit. "Dammit, that's my second ruined flightsuit in a month…" he whispers.

Praxis glances at Camille for a moment and runs his hand through his hair before replying, "Captain Legacy insisted." before he promptly moves over to the bed which Thea would be approaching after the 'order' from the doctor. Or, if she refused to move, Demitros would head to her anyway to hand her his clipboard. "I have the logs right here sir, but they're for your eyes only. Things of this matter need to be kept on a need-to-know basis. At this point I'd advise caution and vigilance regarding use of all computer-based systems on this vessel." Thorn gets a bit of a look from the Lieutenant, just to see how much the injured pilot is listening in as he reports to the Captain.

Ahhhh, language. It's such a lovely thing. It can be used in so many ways, big and small, positive and negative. Yet who knew that such words could come out of such a delicate, sweet little mouth. Thea uses words that would have most Marines dashing for the door. She's quiet about it, though, and lays back as ordered. "Just a little painful," she tells Camille, reaching out for Praxis' logs with a nod. "And Thorn? If you talk to Morales, I AM going to hurt you. And I don't mean with a pair of misplaced nipple clamps."

Camille's blue gray eyes flicker between Praxis, Thea, and her patient with a worried, clearly disapproving glance. Why are they discussing these top secret things in her sickbay to a bleeding woman? She sighs and turns back, fully beginning to probe at Thorn's wound before she nods to the nurse to get him over to a surgical table. "We're going to need to get the bullet out… probably best if we knocked you out for this, but you've lost a lot of blood… maybe safer to just use a local if it isn't too deep if you're up for it, Mr. Thorn…" Camille addresses the pilot strangely politely yet by callsign. Ever the lady.

Yeah, Thorn's listening. He meets Praxis' look with a sunken glare of his own. His attention's quickly back to Thea, though. "Careful, Captain. Some might take that t' be a promise, not a threat," Komnenos wheezes in reply. Then, his banter is interrupted by the doctor. "Do your worst, Doc, I can take it," he answers with a wince. His eyes flutter as he speaks; between the loss of blood and the exertion, he's positively exhausted.

Looking away from the glare Thorn gives him, Praxis catches that disapproving look from Camille, sending a formal apology her way. "I apologize, Camille. I will be out of the area shortly." Eyes then fall upon the log that Thea has in her hands, waiting for the Captain to finish reading it. "When you are finished looking over that, I would like it back. I did not create another copy." Besides, he doesn't want logs laying around the ship. "I will be having an extensive discussion with the commander later, but I advise you save any of your inquiries until you are treated, Captain." A pause before he then adds, "I have yet to report to the CAG."

Thea eeps quietly and quickly hands the log back. "That's your first priority, Knight," she comments, looking a bit sheepish. "Sorry about that." She looks over at Camille as well. "I needed to hear this. There's a reason we're staying at Condition 2." There's just the faintest hint of censure in her tone, not much, though. "As for you, Thorn. I promise, when you die, I'll frak you." A pause and the Captain blinks up at the ceiling. "That…didn't come out right."

Camille pauses, just a second, as she hears Thea's promise to Thorn. The elegant doctor might actually be blushing just a bit. These crazy pilots! She clears her throat…"Captain…try not to get my patient over excited." She cautions gently before nodding towards one of the nurses to actually apply the local to his flesh and just inside. Camille doesn't do it herself. She takes the few stolen seconds to change gloves and at least look towards Thea's wounds, getting a tournique around her limb quickly to staunch a bit of blood flow. Camille just nods to Praxis, her tense gaze softening a bit.

"I'm not sure if that would work, Cat…" Thorn replies distantly with a roll of his eyes and a weak smile. "If I'm dead, where's the… bloodflow going t' come from? At least knock it out on my deathbed… that way I'm able t' die a happy man." He groans softly at himself. "Ugh. Put me out, already, would you, Doc? Before I say something stupid…" His head lolls to one side as he tries to keep himself awake.

"I intend to do my job to the best of my ability, sir. Worry not about sorting my priorities. Thank you, Captain — rest and heal well." Retrieving the log, the nature of the conversation almost makes Praxis want to impact the clipboard against his head. Of course, he just maintains the same sort of disposition regardless of what EVIL his ears are hearing. Eyes shift over to Camille. "Regardless of his physical inability to perform after death, I believe the Lieutenant JG now has reason to expire; you had better expedite the healing process, Doctor." The deadpan humor gets across before he begins marching out towards the corridor.

Thea's hurting badly, but she doesn't make a whimper as Camille checks her over. "Actually, once rigor sets in, it's all good for at least a few hours," the Captain comments, mouth moving ahead of mind. "So, it's almost the perfect situation. Just have to race the clock and get as much in before…" Beat. Pause. "Go to sleep, Thorn. You're now immortal."

As Thorn agrees to be knocked out and Thea gives the order, despite Camille's preference to NOT use those strong drugs, she just gives her nurse a nod to bring over the oxygen mask with the good stuff. Sometimes she must, it's the only way she's gotten through the fleet. She finishes looking over Thea's arm, frowning a bit deeply…"Cursed arm wounds always seem to be the worst… We're going to need to dig in there also, Captain, so if you relax I'll get you up right after him…"

Komnenos chuckles faintly. "One way or another, Captain, you'll be th' death of me," he teases her gently. The banter ceases, though, as the nurse brings the oxygen mask over, softly placing it on his face. He murmurs something else, but it's obscured by the presence of the mask; after a moment, his fluttering eyes finally close, and drug-induced sleep mercifully takes him.

Thea's eyes close and she just nods, a bit of a smile on her lips. "Night, Thorn," she says softly. "Sweet dreams."

Camille then, basically, calls silence to the evening. She's got Thorn on the table and she's going to make smart but serious work of his chest before moving straight onto the second patient. Both pilots are put under for a nice, long, healing sleep…

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