AWD #010: The Fight Continues
The Fight Continues
Summary: SSGT Hall speaks with Lt. Teague, Dr. Nadir & Officer Kalum about the conditions on Picon, the fight continues!
Date: 15/01/2013 (OOC Date)
Related Logs: Current events, recon of Picon
Hall Sebastian Kalum Samtara 
Battlestar Orion — Deck 3 — Recovery Ward
About half the size of the Medical Center, the Recovery Ward has fewer beds to allow space for those who are going through recovery. Rather than the drab gray of most of the center, the walls in here have been done in a neutral creme color. The beds are a little thicker and the blankets are actually present. There are a few clocks and the only other decoration are a couple of flatscreens that show muted movies from the ship's library. A couple stacks of old magazines are available near the door for nurses to pass around, too.
15 Jan 2005

Sebastian truly did want to come visit before now. Truly. But there's been other obligations… Planning a wedding, getting his lip busted open by a rampaging Tauron with a mad-on, and CAPs. Sebastian isn't limping when he comes in, and the bruised jaw is faded to something almost presentable, hidden behind stubble, but he's still got several stitches on his lip. He slips into the recovery ward without any fanfare or trumpets, and makes his way quietly towards Hall's bedside.

Its been several days since the rescue at this point and Hall is rumored to be up, lucid, and talking to almost anyone who comes visiting. Mostly Picans, likely. She's sitting on the edge of her bed in her gown and testing her toes on the ground for pressure. She's still in a little pain with the movement but she hides it. Nobody gets her down, godsdamnit. She looks significantly cleaner than when they picked her up, though, and not just for a lack of bloodied uniform.

Hall is working at the edge of the bed and just putting pressure down on one foot with a grimace when Sebastian comes over. "Yes, its true I'm from Picon. Yes, its true we are fighting." She doesn't even look up to him. She's more concerned with using her IV tower as an aid to get on her feet.

Making her rounds of the patients that are still in the recovery ward, Dr. Nadir is checking again on Captain Gramm, reading his vital signs and frowning as she marks his temperature above normal. Again. The pen that she's holding in her left hand is clicked once so that she can make a note on the chart, amends the antibiotics and calls for a bag of chilled plasma to be placed on the IV stand. Attempting to lower his body temp. The pen is clicked again as she examines the most recent dressing on his shoulder.

"Glad to hear." Sebastian says dryly to Hall, as he reaches over to help her up. "Although I admit, being the guy that hauled your ass out of there, I kind of knew that already." He shoots the doctor a nod of respect.

Hall looks towards the Doctor checking on Gramm and she watches closely. That's her Captain. But with the offer of an arm, she takes it with a nod. "Thanks." The woman has a strong grip and leans heavily on his help as she sloooowly tries to get up on her other foot as well. "Hauled he out?" she breathes through clenched teeth. There's a glance up to him and she nods. "Ah, right. Yeah. The Bear. Shit, guy, those were some nice hits on the canners. Puts those missiles right up an ass or two." She looks back to the ground to try and stand under her own power. Hall is pretty obviously in pain, but she might kill anyone who kindly points it out.

"Lieutenant Teague." Sebastian offers a rough introduction to the WIRELO, with a rough smile. "Or Booboo, if you prefer callsigns" He then blinks slowly at her. "Thanks. I admit, I was pretty happy. I'm not the best missile jock out there." And he lets her try to stand.. Although he sits down on her bed. "I figured I'd come apologize for the kidnapping, see how you and the rest are doing."

Samtara tucks the pen into the pocket of her lab coat as she makes her way along the room to where SSGT Hall is making her way to her feet with the help of the Lieutenant lending her his arm. She doesn't interfere, Marines being of a specific breed - to her experience - that requires pushing the edge of the pain envelope to prove how much they can take before having to admit that something is mildly annoying. Her hands tuck into the front pockets of her lab coat while she observes.

"I think I'll stick to Teague or el-tee unless you wanna call me Golf and that's just not attractive." She sighs and looks over to Samtara. "I think the Doc here might be able to tell you more about my mates. Give me a moment, here." She comes off the weight of his arm but is still holding tightly to the IV dolly. Best forward, she slooowly start to try and stand tall, gets most of the way, and judging by the redness of her face, she's not going much farther. OWWWWW.

"I'm a soon to be married man, so attractive isn't an issue." Sebastian says, tone wry and quiet as he settles down on the bed, watching Golf carefully and ready to support her if she falters without making a big show of it. "How are they doing, Dr. Nadir?" He asks, since the doctor is right there watching.

Dr. Nadir keeps her focus upon Hall while the marine works her way into a fully upright position before stalling midway. It's at this point that she steps forward, nodding again at the Lieutenant before interjecting: The captain lost his right arm at the shoulder, there's extensive burns surrounding the amputation site, we're keeping him in a coma while we deal with some of the secondary issues that compromise his health." Samtara explains, "The young marine that came in with you had a nasty laceration along his temple that went mid-way along the skull into his hair line, he'll have a impressive scar to accompany the story. And you, SSGT Hall," said as she's now near enough to lend a hand to Hall - should one be needed - took several bullets to the chest, nicked a few things internally that ought not to have been nicked but the internal damage was repaired in surgery. I can't clear you for duty for at least seven more days," she warns the SSGT, before it can become a topic to debate over.

The Marine JTAC listens to this but she already knows this stuff. But the mention of herself gets a slow nod. "I hear ya, Doc. I'm not going to argue or throw a rage or try and tell you how to do your job. I wouldn't tolerate you telling me how to call in a strike." Hall gives the Doc a smirk and fidgets a bit on her feet. "I just ask that if at nine days or whenever, that if I look good, we get me out. No fuss. We can even tell people we had a fight and you beat me with a rubber boot or something. Whatever sounds most authentic." Sagenod.

Dr. Nadir is startled into a brief laugh, "Rubber boot. I'll have to keep that in mind, it'd be a great option," she muses, hazel eyes narrowing subtly in speculation before she gives a shake of her head. "No arguing will be required. If you're fit for duty, I'll clear you, it's that simple. Light duty, at that," Samtara clarifies, "no calling in air strikes or leaping out of a perfectly good raptor with half your body weight in gear and a parachute on your back. Though I'll never understand why anyone does that in the first place. But," and she moves forward, stepping around the Marine slowly, "take a deep breath, if you will, breath through the muscle spasms and try to straighten all the way?"

Andromeda gets to his feet with a chuckle. "Well, if anyone asks, Golf, I saw you spit in her whiskey." He says wryly, "I'll come back later. I wanted to ask about my soon to be husband's sister. She was on Picon, CMC."

"Hey Doc, if I can make you laugh, you're already on your way to recovery," Hall quips with another smirk. She's probably spent pleeenty of time in places just like this. There's a nod to Sebastian with the comment. "Sure, no problem. Let me know. Thanks for coming by." She sniffs once and looks to Samtara. "You gotta meet me halfway, sir. How about I only jump out of Raptors if I have to. Which, I'll tell you, was part of a bet. I used to scared of heights. My sister bet me five grand I couldn't become Joint Tac to get past my fear. Never seen anyone happier to lose five G's." But she slowly inhales, exhaling as she tries to go to full extension. She's in a lot of pain. Probably too soon to hope for that much.

"Thanks for not holding my kidnapping against me." Sebastian says wryly to Hall, "I try not kidnap pretty girls all the time." He winks, gives the doctor a smile, and ducks out of the Medbay.

Dr. Nadir studies Hall as the marine takes a breath and tries to straighten entirely, "It's going to take a while for the muscle tissue to knit and then expand again," she explains in a quiet voice. "We had to suture several of the muscles in your abdomen on the way back out. That shortens the length of the actual tissue itself, and that's what you're feeling, the pull of it all." A touch of a smile forms on Samtara's face again, "I dont have a problem with heights, I have a problem with hurtling toward the surface of a planet - at great speed - while calculating the odds of the parachute opening properly vs making a crater that's human sized plus impact ratio, body mass, surface tension, wind sheer, etc. It's a lot of think about while screaming my way toward the surface of a planet." She idly clicks the pen again with her left hand, "Is it true, about Picon?"

"Yeah? Still feels fantastic," she growls through gritted teeth. Another moment and she looks a bit flushed. One hand behind her to steady, she settles backwards to sit gently on the bed. That probably sapped her strength. "Don't let science get you down, sir. Jumping is a lot of fun. Most fun way to make a hypotenuse." Interesting way to think about it? She swallows and nods about Picon. "Aye, sir. True in a big way. We've got around forty-thousand civilians, naval, and Marine personnel in our area. /Big/ area so its not a lot, but we're fighting. Airstrikes, artillery, anti-air. Every Pican with a rifle, Doc." She takes a looong breath, settling out of the pain. "The hardest part is the kids, sir. Just about anyone over twelve can volunteer to fight. Almost all of them have lost their parents and brothers or sisters. They got nobody left. So they pick up a rifle. Its horrifying and inspiring." The Marine looks up to Samtara and its in her eyes: its a little haunting.

"By fantastic we are substituting the words frakking awful," Dr. Nadir surmises with a slow shake of her head, waiting until Hall sits upon the bed again before speaking further. "You'll go from here to Physical Therapy and after that, it's a matter of time, that's all." She is silent for a moment after Hall speaks, the look in Hall's eyes makes Samtara flinch subtly. "Area?" she asks before averting her eyes for a moment, "Children shouldn't have to fight our wars," said in a lower voice. "That twelve year olds are being allowed to volunteer, that they're fighting alongside .. children shouldn't be fighting our wars. But being uncomfortable about it isn't going to stop it. Horrifying and inspiring and heart breaking."

The JTAC shakes her head. "Sorry, I don't have time for physical therapy, Doc. I'm on a Raptor next week or my cooperation with this fleet turns to hostile rebellion and when I get back to Picon, it won't be a good tale." She shrugs with one shoulder. "I'm going back. Picon needs me. I won't abandon it." A long sigh leaves her and she shakes her head. "I had that same thought, sir. But you gotta remember, its not about 'our' wars anymore. We know they glassed Tauron. The fleet is gone, and I mean that the last time any of our air support heard from a boat was this time last week. Its their war, too, now. Kill or be killed and they don't care about politics. They'll end us all without regard for age."

Dr. Nadir tilts her head slightly as she eyes the JTAC for a moment, "Whether you have the time or not, if you don't take enough time for your body to heal you can get back on the Raptor when ever you want, but muscle memory won't pull you through no matter what you want. Mind over body is all well and good, in theory, practical application - long term - doesn't prove the theory however. That being said," she absently clicks the pen again as she speaks, "I'll stream line the PT process and set you up with a series of exercises that you will need to do - and by do I mean religiously - if you want full range of motion again. Scar tissue is scar tissue, internal scar tissue is worse than external scar tissue because it can build up over the years. Bear that in mind." Again that brief clicking of the pen, "No one is abandoning Picon, Picon is home, Staff Sgt Hall, not just to me, not just to you. And we fight for what is ours," her voice is carefully measured as she speaks, to much emotion either way has no place in the med bay, though a frown tugs at her expression. "Your cooperation with the fleet. You don't feel that we're all part of the same fight?"

The Marine nods. "Fair enough, Doc. But this war is ten days old, sir. I've already been shot once and its not the first time ever for me. Our command structure is decimated. If I actually get to a point where I fully heal, I'll be shocked." There's a very dark humor to her expression. Staff Sergeant Hall seems to think she will be dead by the time she heals fully. The last has the Marine shake her head. "Not particularly, no, sir. You all are sitting out here on a pretty blue egg to be guarded and coddled. Meanwhile Melanie Warren, that fifteen year old girl that died, was one of the best assistant machinegunners I've ever seen. Two weeks ago she was running for student government of her freshman class. Same fight?" Hall shakes her head. "I'm sorry, sir. I appreciate the patchjob, but until I see more than a single Raptor of close air support that I was begging for, this is a ship sitting out the fight. And there are other colonies fighting too, sir."

Dr. Nadir takes a seat on the nearest empty bed, frowning at Hall. "Who's in charge of the resistance, who's in command, I mean? Or are you working as smaller units in tandem with combined goals?" she wonders, somewhat stretching her tactics vocabulary to the limits. If it's not science it's not her forte. "And I can't argue that, Staff Sgt. Hall, I can't argue that at all. What can I do to help? Other than get you back on your feet?"

Charlotte holds her hand to her wound and closes her eyes while willing the pain to go away. "Commander Wesley Bancroft, Marines, is in charge of Picon." More than a billion people on the colony and a Commander runs it. Well, there /were/ more than a billion. "Right now my liaison team is attached to Lieutenant Colonel Carolyn Spree and her command, which is our regional responsibility. She's got the Eighteenth, Twenty-First, Thirty-Ninth, and Forty-Fourth divisions." Its like handing Petra the whole of Seventh Fleet. "We're got about five hundred thousand square miles to cover. Its a bitch and we're losing people by the thousands." She opens her eyes. "Help? Try and convince people to help us out, sir. We're worse off than Aerilon, according to rumors. Caprica isn't risking outright war. Leonis is, well… its rich people, sir."

"How are you for medical support?" Dr. Nadir asks next, picking her words with care. "Forty thousand is long odds that you have adequate support personnel, medics, surgeons, nurses, it's long odds," she muses in a thoughtful tone. "Have you spoken with any of the command staff yet? Do they know the full scope of the situation on Picon?"

The Marine takes her hand off her side and sighs. "Couldn't tell you, Doc. I know we had an orthodontist doing surgery in our field hospital. Most of our fleet Docs are at bases. A lot of them got small tactical treatments or what we think was neutron bombs. Most of the cities were hit badly. Perkinston didn't fare well either, sir. We /think/ it was the opening shot of the war. It woke me up when it went. Whole sky lit up like sunrise and I lived four hundred miles away." She slowly crosses her legs and leans there heavily on the IV stand. "The kids who can't do field work but want to fight are up at out regional command post. Pregnant women. We've only got a few nurses and med students managing the rest who have no experience. Its a bit rough, sir. And yeah, I've talked to Petra and this dude Wake. They mostly ask me questions about stupid rumors and about one of your Marines here on board. I'm not sure how committed they are to Picon. Like I said, until I see support, I will tell Colonel Spree this boat is sitting out the fight. But I suspect one of your people wants to talk to her, too."

"You have no air support, at all?" Dr. Nadir asks, still frowning intently. "So, you're saying this is purely a land based fight at this point? The Cylon's take a city or a," she waves one hand in a vague gesture, "a specific target and you guys fight to take it back? Up against the heavy models, the metal sided ones like we were developing originally as security and protection line before it all went to hell?" she wonders. "So if this is just a land fight - and I don't mean 'just' by any means, alright? - if you could get enough air support long enough to blow up large chunks of the invasion force then you'd have a hell of a better chance at winning a land war. They've no naval assets, I mean, no actual water based craft, no submersible vehicles to target or protect cities along the coast that they're occupying?" She continues to frown, ending up tucking her hands into her pockets to keep from breaking the pen she keeps clicking, "One of our marines? Why? And yeah, I imagine they want to talk to your Colonel Spree, get a top down assessment of the situation on the ground before they do anything."

"Well we have air support. Its just thin and unreliable. We're running our birds out of garages and barns. Using roads as runways. But we've been slapping their Raiders out of the sky. They don't like coming down to low level because we've got a huge stockpile of shoulder-fired missiles from the first war. But yeah, we're going up against the canners. They're a new model. Taller, heavier, built-in 7.62 guns. Claws, too. Real nasty wounds. But if we had additional air support, ti would help. I can't tell you what the whole planet needs, though. Our stuff is regional. I know there's a couple command posts with several million people fighting within them." She closes her eyes. "Hell if I know why they want to ask about him. I've known the guy for years about four years. Good Marine. I asked him and he said they were jsut doing some kind of security review."

PO James Kalum is working his shift as a nurse this evening, and is making the rounds — checking up on the vitals of any patient in the sickbay. He writes down heart rates, temperature, and blood pressure in their file and returns it to the rack at the end of each patient's bed. Of course Kalum can't help but overhear what Samtara and the Marine are talking about, and soon it is his turn to take the Marine's vitals. He pauses for a moment at the foot of the man's bed, and the PJ listens carefully to what the man is saying.

Dr. Nadir is seated on the empty bed adjacent to the one that SSGT Hall is seated upon, discussing the situation on Picon and - from the look on Samtara's face - learning things that are not sitting well with the surgeon from Picon. "A new model? What I would give for some shots of it, let alone to dissect one," she admits in a voice that's more of a mutter than not. "Claws? What in the blue blazes do they need claws for? That's a step back in intuitive design and evolution of the model. Claws?" she wonders, a frown seeming to be stamped upon her face as she speaks. To Hall's words about the marine she just shakes her head, "Odd," but she is more focused on the details about the newer heavier model of Cylon.

When the Doctor muses as to why the new Model's might have claws, the Petty Officer's brow furrows. "Why do predators have claws, and why do we give marine's bayonets?" The Pararescue Jumper offers quietly — knowing exactly why there enemy might want claws. "Sometimes you need to kill a man up close quick and quiet. Sometimes you just run out of bullets, Sir." He says deeply.

"What claws when they could just as easily have embedded laser scalpels?" Samtara wonders immediately in reply. "Claws, yes, like an animal. It's a step back in evolutionary design, it doesn't track," she argues. "Laser scalpels would've been more logical than just metal shears. Fixed points of metal have a specific range, but a laser scalpel has a adjustable pitch and density of the cutting beam. Not," and she tugs one hand out of the pocket it's tucked into and rubs a the back of her neck, "that I'm suggesting improvements on the bloody things. But. It's.. illogical. It tracks more like a terror/psychological impact than practical application."

The Marine nods to Kalum after opening her eyes. GSW's suck. She's sort of hanging on her IV stand, sitting on the edge of her bed. She listens to the Doctor and then the PJ. Then the Doctor again. Her brow lofts.

The PO listens carefully to the opinion offered by the Doctor, and his brow remains furrowed. "Aye aye. Interesting point, Sir." Kalum says in a quiet and respectful voice, as he slides over to stand next to the marine. The stethescope flops off his shoulder here, and the PJ holds aloft a blood pressure cuff. "Need to take your vitals here Staff Sergeant," he says deeply, and steps forward to wrap the cufff around the sergeant's arm.

"My apologies," Dr. Nadir says after a silent moment. "In one measure it's a moot point because it doesn't matter why the model was designed this way. Except.. that it does offer insight into the minds behind the design itself. It's a measure of profiling. The Cylon's want to wipe the human race out of existence, then why do this on a blood shed massive scale like this when history has shown again and again that there are easier ways to wipe out any given population. Chemical/biological warfare would have been just as expedient and far less messy. Instead of nuclear fall out there'd be piles of dead bodies that died where they fell. It reads, to me, that it isn't sufficient that they murder us - and that's what war is, murder - writ large - it's that they want to destroy everything about humanity. Our homes, our cities, our culture, our monuments, what man can build with his bare hands - they want to destroy that too, make it nothing but rubble and barren bedrock. Until there's nothing left but the bones of our cities, and even that will be erased by time and erosion."

The Marine lifts the sleeve of her gown and stretches out her arm to Kalum. "I promise, I won't fight. No pissed off, indignant attitudes from me." She smirks and looks back to Sam with a curious glance. "Its been a bit since I've heard anyone wax that way about war. 'Murder' is a pretty tame word for the intensity of ground operations. Whatever they are trying to do doesn't matter. They park someplace and try to set up camp? We knock it out. Like I said, we own the skies down below twelve thousand AGL. Between the shoulder-fired missiles and the old guns we've rolled out of storage? They have a bitch of a time shutting down our airspace."

Again the Petty Officer can only quietly listen to the grim words offered by the Doctor. He has seen the results of the Cylon assaults first hand. A continent was cracked by the deorbit of a massive military space installation. The domes of various mining cities were blasted open to let the void in. Not to mention the concentration camp of refugees he saw. He says nothing of this though, and just pumps up the Marine's blood pressure cuff. He places the stethescope to the marine's wrist, and listens carefully.

Again the Petty Officer can only quietly listen to the grim words offered by the Doctor. He has seen the results of the Cylon assaults first hand. A continent was cracked by the deorbit of a massive military space installation. The domes of various mining cities were blasted open to let the void in. Not to mention the concentration camp of refugees he saw. He says nothing of this though, and just pumps up the Marine's blood pressure cuff. He places the stethescope to the marine's wrist, and listens carefully.

"This," Dr. Nadir says in that same quiet voice as she makes a sweeping gesture with one hand to encompass the room, "is where I fight. I'm a surgeon, a mechanic of the human body. If it's broken, if it's damaged, and can be repaired? Then I'm going to do everything in my ability to repair it. I can't do a blasted thing about the fight going on out there, I'm no soldier. I can more or less hit what I aim at, but I'd be a absolute waste in a hand to hand combat situation, and I'm more likely to die out of sheer stupidity than anything else. Here? Here I'm useful. It's just that it tugs at the logic to understand why they're occupying instead of razing to bedrock, glassing, and moving on. I'm a scientist, and when two plus two does not equal four on a predictable linear path from equation to sum, time and time again, it's time to go back and re-examine the variables. Math, after all, never lies."

Hall uses the IV stand to lean on again while Kalum holds. "Sir, I understand what you are saying. But you need to see our Command Post to understand what you are saying in a larger context. Smell it. Hear it. Think about what you ask your surgical attendants to do for you and then imagine they are ten to thirteen years old. Its amazing how much kids can learn in a few days." She holds Sam's gaze. "I don't hate you and I'm not trying to belittle your position, sir. You have experience we would very literally kill for. But to me, you're not a scientist. You're not a mind to postulate theoreticals. I see you, sir, and I see ten to twenty people a day surviving that are dying otherwise. If you can teach while treating? Maybe a lot more." She shrugs.

Again the Petty Officer can't offer much here to the words being bandied about. He isn't fighting on Picon, even though he has seen combat elsewhere, and his mind is ultimately on other troubling issues. He completes taking the marines vitals, and jots the notes down. He takes a couple steps back from the bed, and continues to listen — with great interest for that matter. Still, Samtara is one of his CO's, and it is really not his place to interject.

Dr. Nadir would look away from Hall if she'd been able to, only looking away is akin to denying reality and she can't allow herself to do that. Rock, hard place, reality is thy name. "If Admiral Jameson and Commander Faulkner give permission, you'll have my skills for as long as long as the fleet can spare me. I can teach, but once it's past the basic clean, repair, patch, watch for infection, there's only so much that can be taught of the nuts and bolts of it all. Your medics are going to have to learn to triage the bloody way. Which is cut the line down to those they can save, those they might save if they have the time and the equipment, and everyone else. It's messy. It's horrifying. It's dehumanizing. It's the worst part of the job. But being a surgeon, being a doctor, is all about focusing on the one in front of you. Period. To do anything else is to risk the life in your hands, lose this one, and then every other one that follows because your focus was off. Save the one in front of you, Staff Sergeant, and then do it again. And again."

The Marine hangs there on her IV watching Samtara. In the end she just nods very lightly. "Remember the orthodontist, sir. We all pull together and do whatever we can. I don't know the details of the operations in our surgical tunnels or, you know, in other CPs with tents. I just know what I have seen passing by. What I hear that is consistent. If you have the will and the gumption to do it, sir, come with. And bring anesthetics, sir." She glances over to Kalum. "Where you from, PO?"

Kalum slings his stethescope and blood pressure cuff up and over his shoulders here, and again listens quietly to the offers of help. When the Staff Sergeant asks him a question, his attention focuses on the Marine. "Gemenon, Staff Sergeant." He says in the quiet and disciplined voice of an Infantry Solider — he did after all serve as a Navy Corpman before becoming a PJ. "Haven't heard what went down there. Been trying not too. There are too many pilots and other folks who need my complete focus. Don't have time to ponder things I can't know or change at this point."

Dr. Nadir makes a quiet sound, "Orthodontists barely qualify as doctors, Staff Sergeant Hall, which only proves how dire the situation is," she almost but not quite mutters these words. "And it has nothing to do with gumption or will and everything to do with not abandoning one post where we're needed in place of another. You're right, but it's not a decision made lightly."

Hall watches the response from Kalum, lofting her brow as she hears about where he's from. But there's not other indication of the conditions except for the mild surprise on her face. The Marine looks him down then up and extends her hand to him to shake. "Respect. Those are organized priorities." Looking back at Samtara, Hall nods. "Its a tough question. But look around you, sir. War is over. We're just stubborn little shits who refuse to actually act on the idea that its over. We fight because our other option is to roll over and die. You all here?" She gestures to the Ward. "Clean ship, quiet. Condition Three. People have time to sit and process. Grieve. Captain Gramm and I are alive because of the doctors here, true. But ask yourself where you are most needed, sir. Here? Or out there with humanity. Other colonies are fighting. Where will you be in two weeks? I hope, with all my heart, its fighting the best way you know how, sir."

"Thank you, Staff Sergeant." Kalum says quietly and extends his hand out to take the Marine's in a firm shake. "Still, be glad I wasn't there when we picked you up… I might have had to ask you to tattoo a pair of green feet on your butt." The PO says lightly, making a joke about something that is rumored to be a PJ tradition for when they pick up downed pilots. "Anyways, Lieutenant… Staff Sergeant… I need to continue my rounds." There is a respectful nod to both, and Kalum moves on to the next patient.

"As do I," Dr. Nadir says as she catches the signal sent to her by a nurse checking Captain Gramm's vitals, the look on the nurse's face is enough to pull Samtara from the conversation. "Excuse me, the captain isn't out of the woods yet and there's work still to be done." She starts to step away then pause, "Staff Sergeant, you're right, about a lot of things. But I'm also right when I tell you to give your body a chance to heal while it can. You may not get a chance like this any time soon. so make the most of it. eat as much as you can hold. Sleep as much as you are able. Give your body a chance to fight for itself," words spoken she moves back to where Captain Gramm is being tended.

Hall smirks at Kalum. "PJ. Well doesn't that just explain it. Hey." She holds his hand a moment longer with a squeeze. "Thanks for doing what you do. You all have saved friends of mine that should've been dead. That's not forgotten, even if they've been lost to this war." A nod and she lets him go before looking back to Sam. She listens as the woman moves off and nods. "If you all have a spa, let me know. I'd kill for a decent massage, sir. Butin all seriousness, I'll keep in mind. Thank you." She settles back onto the bed slowly and thinks on that, though. Its quiet here. Her hand comes off the IC stand and she closes her eyes to rest.

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