AWD #280: Captains and Privates
Captains and Privates
Summary: Mallas tries to get out of Sickbay. Fail
Date: Sun Oct 13 22:12:50 2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Santos Ridge and sickbay logs
Samtara Mallas Leightner Kostas 
Battlestar Orion — Deck 3 — Sickbay
Serving as the ship's primary care facility, the Medical Center is a rather large, single room structure that has the same load-bearing structures to the walls that the halls do, as well as the same heavy hatch. There is a desk at the entrance staffed by a nurse as well as a small locker for single dose drugs like aspirin. Beds are lined up along each wall with EKG's and hangers for IVs in case of triage. Large cabinets at the rear provide ready access to lifesaving medicines and gear, as well as a ready supply of defibrillators. Not far from the primary entrance is the Chief Medical Officer's office and on the other side is a small hatch to the recovery ward. Towards the rear is a sectioned-off examination area. Opposite the hatch to recovery is a sealed doorway leading down a hallway to the ship's morgue.
AWD #280

"I b'lieve I learned that one pretty early on, Doc," is Kostas' response, though the mask is back up for the moment, and she looks pretty exhausted. "And whaddya know, finally finished that damn report. Not too shabby." She leans back in the inclined bed, taking a deep breath.

Leightner emerges from the Recovery Ward, clipboard in hand, writing as he moves to the Nurses station to file the Ward logs. Ahh crap paperwork keeping Sickbay running.

"Excellent," Nadir replies with another nod angled at Mallas, eyes subtly narrowed - possibly because she broke her blasted reading glasses when she left them in the exterior pocket of her armor vest thing. "Muscle spasms, tingling, please do this with your hand," she lifts one hand and curls her fingers one at a time to touch the tip of her thumb to each of her fingertips. "Paperwork holds the universe together, Ensign, specifically the military side of the universe, as far as i'm able to ascertain. Without paperwork," and she waves Leightner over, "the entire framework of the military universe, not just supply, would unravel and we would all dissolve like a soap bubble."

Grudgingly, Mallas does as he's instructed. He holds up his right hand towards the Doctor and does the finger curls, one at a time. "Works fine. Sir." Leightner's entry catches his eye, and Private Mallas, still in a hospital gown and walking with his IV pole near his bed, gives the Corpsman a meaningful glance, then a quick nod towards Samatara. A little help?

Leightner makes a little parabala with his feet, turning and approaching the CMO, Ward logs in hand. Yes, wave-summoning is a power of the Chief Medical Officer. Leightner falls in to her side, so she may continue conducting Sickbay as she will. And he's silent. If he had a Tuxedo and the clipboard on a silver tray, it wouldn't be out of character as he stops, clipboard at an angle where she may take and inspect the logs as she likes. He looks at Mallas and tightens his lips shaking his head. He's just outbrassed and outclassed here.

"Excellent," Nadir notes, nodding at Mallas. "Ok, no nerve issue, no muscle spasms, no pins and needle feeling in your extremities, dexterity not a issue, we'll have to see how you are at the range before you're cleared for duty, but aside from that and the stitches are removed I can clear you for duty in a day or two. The nurses have had you walking around every few hours to ensure that you have no balance issues, move about for a few minutes, Leightner will check your pulse afterward." This said as she lifts the clipboard from Leightner's hands and starts scanning through the pages, "Any issues that need to be on the top of the pile?" asked of Leightner.

Leightner shakes his head, "No, sir, observational notes on PO Cruz and her balance tests. Pending finals of course, recommended release on schedule. Little else." He replies, nodding to Mallas, apparently the Medspeak is good for him.

Mallas shoots the Leightner an angry look when he answers with a head-shake. But now that Samtara is no longer in a personal conversation with Ensign Kostas, the Private tries to interrupt before she and the Corpsman get too far into their business. "Sir," Mallas begins, swallowing his frustration and trying to sounds respecful and military-formal. "Request I be released today." This, he knows, is probably not going to happen. Still he adds on one final plea: "Please."

Nadir nods slowly before she skims down through the next pages, "Excellent. Medically speaking she can be released in the morning. I don't know what other checks she'll need to go through to be cleared for duty again, I'd best speak with.." and there's a moment of pause as Nadir runs through the list of personnel, "ah, yes. Major Franklin," she pulls the correct name after that moment. "I'll see about that." She eyes Mallas for a moment, a mild frown, "I need at least two minutes of continuous action, Private, please continue," she says with a wave of one hand, fingers wiggling vaguely at Mallas.

Leightner smiles. No, he pulls back his lips and looks at Mallas with a pure, 'Boy Private your ass is about three-tenths of a second from being in deep crap' Drill Sergeant look. "Sir, request permission to complete the Privates exam?" Oh the Corpsman not happy with the Private.

Mallas rolls his eyes upon hearing Samtara's reply. He notices Leightner's warning look and hesitates. Can he actually shut up before he gets into trouble? Maybe not, as he has to get in one more complaint to Sam. "You can't cut me a little slack, Sir? I did just help save your ass down there." Despite his complaints the Private starts walking again, as instructed, pacing back and forth near his bed with his IV setup in tow.

Nadir reaches for the reading glasses that aren't in the front pocket of her lab coat, flexes her fingers in annoyance and is nodding to Leightner, all ready to give permission over, when Mallas pulls her attention rather abruptly. "Language," said in a tone of voice that isn't quite sharp but rather pointed. She flexes her left hand again, clearly annoyed and nods at Leightner. "Aye, do," she confirms, giving permission as asked.

Leightners grimace turns more into a smile as he steps forward like a cartoon shark descending on a fish. One hand comes up, "Walk, Private. We start the clock now. And we're gonna have a little chat, son. Jus you an me."

When a brief reprimand is all he gets in 'thanks' from the CMO, Private Mallas exhales a long breath, muttering to himself. "Soste apo giatrous…" Was that Sagittaran? And then he catches the expression on Leightner's face as the Corpsman approaches, and Mallas shoots the man a 'What did /I/ do?' look. They're going to have a talk? "Hey, I like you doc…" Mallas quips. "But I'm not into guys. Sorry."

Nadir makes a sound that isn't quite muffled but it's enough to have her tapping her fingertips against the top most page on the clipboard, eyes still subtly narrowed as she observes the Private and sees that the marine hasn't begun to walk around as yet. "Obstinate is not a trait held only to Marines, Private, but it only adds to the length of time that you remain in our care," before subsiding to see Leightner working with Mallas.

Leightner opens his mouth, in a sort of terrifying manic smile, and in a light whisper, "Aww yer gonna be diggin foxholes fer tha res of yer military career if ya don't move now boy. I can see it now." His eyes are shining, "Tha rest o yer military career, rediggin Picon."

Getting that stare and those parting words from the Doctor causes Mallas to pause, as if he means to respond to Samtara again. But Leightner's strange expression and whipsering are a little too odd to ignore, and Mallas turns to the Corpsman instead. "Tell me something I don't know, Doc, tell me something I don't know." He ventures out into the isle beyond his bed, continuing his slow-motion stroll.

Nadir traces one fingertip along the page of the chart she's reading and replies, without glancing up: "Without adequate knowledge of your education base or focus of same, I can't speak definitively to what you do or do not know, Private. However," and she turns the next page up, "There are are 2.5 trillion - give or take - of red blood cells in your body at any given moment. To maintain this number, about two and a half million new ones need to be produced every second by your bone marrow. That's akin to replacing the former population of Caprica City every second," it's only now that she glances up. "And thank you, Private, for helping to save my ass, as you so eloquently put it, so that I could continue to attempt to do the same for yourself and any other soldier in need of medical care, along with any other civilian that happens to be in our immediate vicinity at the time. Would you like that 'thank you' gift wrapped or would a 'likewise' be sufficient?"

Leightner starts to Follow Mallas closely, as if to speak with him quietly as he moves, then pauses and steps back before the chewing begins. The CMO is speaking.

Mallas likely doesn't follow the whole thread of Samatra's lecture, but he does know a lecture when he hears it. He keeps his head down and walks while the CMO speaks, and his reply is delayed a few seconds as a first impulse is suppressed. Finally he manages a terse response. "Likewise, sir."

Nadir makes that sound again, and it still isn't amused but it's less than annoyed, so that's what genuinely matters. "Continue," she says aloud with another nod at Leightner, returning to the charts and pulling a ballpoint pen from one pocket and adds minor notes to one of the pages before continuing to the next. "Would you like more medical trivia that you're potentially unaware of? I'm sure we can swap data, I can't tell you one breed of weapon from another, let alone why one is better for any given circumstance over another, why one type of gun can take X amount of types of bullets versus another one and such and so on. I can however tell you what that bullet will do to the body, let alone how fascinating 'frangible' rounds are when they ricochet through the body," each word calmly but clearly, crisply, enunciated, somewhat rhetorical yet educational all at the same time.

Leightner nods at the bid to continue and does exactly that, He follows Mallas directly at his side, and in a low, direct sincere whisper, he says, "I'm going to explain this two ways, Private, And I hope they both sink in. Number one, That woman is a Captain, Two, She is the Chief Medical Officer of this vessel. You are in Sickbay. Your standing orders are to follow the instructions of any and all Medical Personnell assigned to care for you, of which she is the final authority. You do not question Captain Ommanneys orders under fire, you do not question the Chief Medical Officers instructions. That's the first way I explain it to you. Is that clear. It is a yes or no question, Private, that is how you will answer." And he never raises his voice that's the worst thing.

Mallas gets down to the end of the isle and turns, heading back towards his own bed. He still seems to be moving alright, though there's obviously a little pain in his side from the unhealed gunshot wound. He's trying to listen to what Samtara is saying, but the Corpsman is in his ear, whispering something insistant. Something that causes the Private to give him a sidelong look and a disbelieving shake of his head. "Yeah, yeah," he answers Lieightner. "Don't go pulling rank on me, Doc." He turns his attention back to Sam in time to absorb the tale end of what she was saying, and again he responds tersely. "Sir, all I know about that is what it feels like to get shot. Sir."

"As do I, Private," and Nadir does not hear the exchange between Leightner and Mallas, just as she is not intended to in the first place. "And I find it to be a singularly unpleasant sensation. In fact, if there's a ranking for unpleasant things, getting shot is near to the very top of the list. Save for being punched, which is as unpleasant without the puncture and internal injuries, which are also unpleasant. I would imagine that child birth would perhaps take the place of number one in the ranking of unpleasant experiences, inefficient design that from my observation, but bullet holes are a contender for that position."

Leightner continues speaking, in the same manner, "The second way I'll explain it to you is like this." He points to the Symbol of Sickbay, and leans in, whispering, "Aries put you here, boy." Now there's an actually angry light in his gaze. "Welcome to my Temple. Where the lame walk from here and the shattered rise to fight again. You know that. You've been the shattered. And here's the authority, Asclepius, The woman you just dared to speak to like that, and no one else frakking matters. Not my thoughts on it, certainly not yours, and you should be thankful for the chance to repay one of the lives that woman has saved. Every face in the platoon. This entire war the lives that woman has saved." The fury of the Corpsman. "You , boy, have completely forgotten whom you are speaking to. If I cannot remind you, I promise you, it will be my personal pleasure to ask your entire chain of command to remind you and wherever you go you will be scrubbing the toilets."

As the Corpsman's anger rises, Mallas has almost no attention-span left to catch with Samtara is saying. Something about being punched? And childbirth? "Uhhh …" he says, starting to try and answer the CMO, but finding himself unable to recall if there was a quesiton, and what it was. Finally he's getting back close to his own bed, and he shoots Leightner a disgruntled look. Whatever he was hoping from from the Corpsman, it wasn't a lecture on the religious aspects of Sick Bay. Mallas adopts the regulation tone for addressing a senior enlisted person, though he keeps his voice low so as not to awaken the whole sick bay. "The Private requests permission to return to his bed, Petty Officer."

Leightner straightens, "Denied. You are going to walk for seventeen more seconds, at which time you will report for the remainder of your revaluation." Leightner suddenly has a clipboard, "Sixteen…" He begins writing with that crisp death warrent signing attitude.

Mallas snorts out a breath. "Godsdamnit…" he mutters, then turns and sets off on his seventeen seconds of additional walking. It's only a few steps before the time is half up and he turns around to come back. So maybe he's back one or two seconds early. He doesn't bother with the 'regulation behavior' crap once he gets back, just presents his left wrist for Leightner to take his pulse. Yes, he knows the drill.

Leightner proceeds to take the pulse, do simple mobility checks, note the time, and temperature. Checks the filters and wipers. No he has the wrong clipboard, but seriously folks, he finishes the reevaluation and signs the papers with a flourish. "Best advise I can give you. Sit there, and be quiet." He turns and takes the clipboard away and moves to the main desk. Leaving Mallas there.

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