AWD #461: Physician Go Forth
AWD #461: Physician Go Forth
Summary: Admiral Jameson drops by sickbay with marching orders for Dr. Nadir and instructions for the preservation and protection of the newly discovered tomb on Piraeus. Dr. Nadir may or may not need to start breathing into a paper bag.
Date: Sun 25/Sep/2016 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: http://battlestarorion.wikidot.com/tomb-of-the-unknown-soldiers
Jameson Samtara 
Sickbay - Deck 3 - Battlestar Orion
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.
Wed 12/Apr/2006

On any given day, there's a plan that involves cleaning, something, organizing something else, and checking off a list of some sort that is appended to the master list of cleaning, organizing, sterilizing and general maintenance that Sam keeps. It might even be kept in a binder, knowing Sam, it probably is. But at the moment she's on a step stool, dusting the top of the large cabinets that store gear and medicine, one hand braced against the front of the cabinet as she works.

Jameson appears. Not quite out of nowhere, but close enough. "Don't you have someone else who is supposed to be cleaning, Doctor?" he starts off. The guy is in his blues, hands behind his back. Sure, the words are casual enough but he looks like he is here on business. "Going to need you to come down from the rafters. I have something immediate that I need to discuss with you." He gestures an open palm towards her office. It has the feeling of a student being called to the principals office. Maybe she shouldn't have set off cherry bombs in the head last week.

Turning to glance toward the hatch, Sam is wearing a half mask that covers her nose and mouth along with glasses that keeps the dust out of her eyes. "Of course, Sir, but I prefer to see that it's done in a manner that meets certain exacting specifications. If I do it myself I won't wonder if the person who was supposed to do it did so in a manner that meets those specifications. If I have someone else do it, I just come along behind them and do it again. It's highly inefficient," she explains as she steps down off the stool and sets the duster in the bucket before detouring to the hand cleaning station. The gloves, mask and eye protection is removed, her hands washed and patted dry before she takes off her lab coat and drapes that over a chair, to be returned to later, of course. It's already dirty. She moves toward her office, the door already being open, "Neither chair is comfortable, of course, but you're welcome to one if you'd like," she offers, moving for the coffee pot straight away. "Coffee?"

"We certainly can't have that sort of ineffiency running rampant." Jameson just stares at her, hoping that sinks in. Hoping against hope. Second star to the right. He steps into her office after her and closes the door behind him. "No, no coffee. I seem to have misplaced my dip cup, though." he doesn't expand on that one. "Doctor, not sure if you know about it yet but a small team of people found a bunker down on Piraeus. Its a command bunker full of dead bodies. Best guess, hundreds of them. I'm ordering a team down to take care of it and look into things. Seems it was hermetically sealed." He doesn't stop looking at her.

Setting the pot back on the burner, without actually pouring herself a cup, Sam turns toward the admiral and absently reaches for the container of hand sanitizer, aborting the gesture mid-motion and tucks both hands into her pockets instead. "I'm aware of some of the details, not all, but just enough to know that something was found and that there are, as you say, a rather large number of bodies that were sealed into this tomb of sorts. I'm also aware that the team that found the bodies were not properly shielded or filtered against what they may have encountered, airborne wise." She walks around her desk and sits, reaching for a pad of paper and a pen, flicking the end of it briefly, "I'll have a team sorted and equipped to deploy with who ever else will be returning to planet. Sir, do you know if there's room for teams in full hazmat gear to maneuver or will they have to pare down to just masks, shields and gloves?"

Jameson just watches and listens. "Not surprising. The mission had no idea what it was going into. This shit is going to happen. Here's what I need from you: I want a medical airlock constructed down there that will keep that place sealed. Work with Deck to get it built and I want it done yesterday. Number two? Nobody, for any reason, touches any body without my explicit say-so. You can test the air or anything else but bodies will not be touched." He doesn't look like he's going to entertain objections on that. "I want results fast so we know whether or not we need suits." glances to the door, then back. "You're putting Mercier on the primary exploration team. Nobody from your team leaves visual of the airlock. I want combat personnel down there with tech folks first. But you are going to be on-site supervisor for that airlock. Clear?"

"Terrain unseen," Sam begins, eyes narrowed subtly, "we'll start with a standard biohazard hard frame then surround it with what ever deck deems most suitable to the environment for a long standing…" and that's when the Admiral's words actually seep through the operational logistics that were ticking away rather nicely in her brain. It was all neat. Linear. Logical. Orderly. "Sir?" she looks up and there's a moment, it only lasts for a few seconds, but the look on her face is appalled. "My staff, all of them, first to last, are extraordinarily well trained and follow orders in exacting detail. Barring the cleaning thing," she hedges that, firmly, "because that's an environmental issue not a medical issue, and that's really not the point. Why in the name of logic would…" right, there it is, that moment of flabbergasted inarticulate stammer to a halt stopping point. She exhales. Slowly. Sets the pen down. Pinches the bridge of her nose with thumb and forefinger and takes a moment to count upward, prime numbers only of course, in her head. "I would prefer not to be in the presence of what ever it is that's running amok on planet, sir. All due respect, and please believe me when I say that I hold a great deal of respect for what ever it is that they are or are not any long actually being or possibly ever were at this point. That's beside the point," she tries again, leaning back. "I gather from your tone that this isn't a democratic moment of interpretation for personnel allocation?"

Jameson lets her go. Through all of it. The same expression is parked on his face and he just holds peace. After a few seconds of silence, "No." He moves towards the door. "Your attention to detail is exactly why you're heading it up personally. I can't have someone following directions and then mucking it up and then you inspecting it and finding out that it isn't exacting. In your words Doctor, I believe you called it 'inefficient.'" He flashes a low smile. "Get with Deck and get it prepped. We're having someone speak to the- whatever this Captain is- and get permissions. Get the group assembled for deployment." He opens the door and steps out.

Unless otherwise stated, the content of this page is licensed under Creative Commons Attribution-ShareAlike 3.0 License