[center]====Tempest: Medical offices and labs====[/center]

Joseph, like every other member of the Tempest medical team, had neither a highly ceremonial boarding nor any memorial event that would mark his entrance into the ship’s metal insides. Save never being in such a behemoth, he had little else to do then settle his things into his own quarters and then situation himself to the only thing he knew best: work. He admitted it was a bit intimating at first for weeks before he was schedule to leave, his mind had wondered over what possible could require such secret. Well, he got his answer in the worse way when his eyes came over the ship after boarding. 

At least his mind would’ve been occupied. Unlike some of the crew, down time was almost nonexistent for doctors as most patients might’ve scheduled appointment but rarely did anyone’s health ever follow them. Currently since the Tempest’s departure, the aged doctor had cooped himself up between his morgue and lab at almost endless shifts. Only brief pauses were made to eat, drink and sleep while he was filtering through personnel’s medical histories, his finger taped the mouse then clicked and dragged the little white icon to a specific file finally dropping it in. Over and over he had done this for so long he began to forget how much time had passed since he left Earth. And them.
 
His brown eyes suddenly closed under wrinkled lids, his fingers pulled away his reading glasses as they rubbed the budded ach away. Joseph slowly rotated his neck as he leaned back into his chair. The little bones creaked and cracked, made a slight shift from their fixed position until he relaxed, his way to let the sensation of relief settle over his weary bones. In the background was classical music played from the violin. The notes at first had a smooth, quick in the tempo only to change back into a slow whimsical pace. A well-practiced and magnificent note series seemed to drown the listener into a serene state. It was very clear the one manipulating the strings had raw talent, refined over years, and it was with pride Joseph sank into the melody. Mainly because the very talented composer behind the recording had been the man’s own son, Conner Sterling, that created such a sound. A parting gift that would remind Joseph of the responsibilities, his family and most of all, the problems he had left behind. The man rubbed his eyes a little harder. A faint hope he would rub away all the stress that sat behind them, his head held in his hands for bit longer. 

Then all hell broke loose. 

Joseph felt the ship shudder followed by low, dreadful rumble. It echoed through the ship’s hollows as if the damn thing had become ill or suffered. Suddenly the floor was jerked to the side and in addition, everything, including him and several other medical personnel were flung to the ground. He felt himself pressed into the floor while his body shifted again when the ship struck new debris. Papers scattered about, monitors fell from their desks then slammed into floor or soft head, and unsecured equipment had become rattled about, each followed by his colleges’ panicked screams. For a long, terrible moment, Joseph couldn’t tell where he was. If he was coming or going, his body tossed about like some unwanted toy before the hellish event seemed to have died down. 

When he finally had the chance to become aware, the room was dowsed in red flashing lights and a deafening alarm rang out. Pain etched its presence in the old doctor’s head when it struck a desk edge in his fall, slicing the wrinkled head, followed by his arm. His eyes glanced down to the damage, outright ignored the warmth from his blood that seeped into his vision. The doctor’s arm was curled up by his side, pinned under a filing cabinet that had become dislodged and throbbed at each attempt he made to move it on its own. It didn’t take a Master’s degree in general medicine to know his limb wasn’t alright. 

Less than a month on the job and already, Joseph thought venomously, he was his first medical emergency. Peachy… His mental rants had been broken by the need to move. Joseph had gritted his teeth and breath held, his free hand came about to immediately but cautiously removed the heavy object. Used what little strength he had, the metal seemed to groan at being pushed off. Once done, his face was reddened by the effort and grasped for deep, inhales to ease the pain needled up and down his arm. The arm had hadn’t been broke, the doctor’s first professional opinion, but it had been hurt badly. Likely it was just fractured. 

Wasted little time, Joseph began to strip off his white coat then fold it into a makeshift sling. Using a combination of his teeth, good arm and much less extend, his other hand, the doctor worked to make a temporary and crude one. It had its flaws much to his distaste but the important notion was that kept his arm out of the way and fixed to one place. That way any movement would’ve jar it into worse damage then he had already created. It wasn’t the proper treatment for this injury but seeing his office in shambles and the fact some more fitting would’ve hindered him, the man had little options at the moment. He braced himself once more while his hand came behind him. After a few painfully slow movements, he was upon his feet and started to seek out any wounded or…to a far less desire, fatalities. 

“Dr. Sterling…over here,” A female voice caught the older man’s attention as he limped, still sore, towards the younger doctor. Her body sprawl across the floor and collapsed where she had been tossed. His eyes narrowed upon her ankle, the flesh seemed slightly discolored. Joseph’s first impression was a sprain on sight yet he didn’t allow that to become his final diagnose. At least until he could fully examine it. 

When he managed to hobble over to her, the doctor took a knee which caused his face to briefly winch in pain and gently reached out his good hand to feel the worrisome area. He had a surprised tenderness in his prods but his mind carefully noted any out jutted bones or unexplained bump against his fingers. Twice they ran up and down the spot, double checking it. From his brief examination, the man’s first snap judgment had been correct. The woman had only suffered a sprain ankle, one that in a few weeks’ time would be fit to move again, his mind felt her eyes shifted to his sling then back to him with slight worry. 

“It’s just a injured arm, likely a radius fraction from what I can speculate but I won’t know for certain until I can scan it. Currently the head is a more troublesome matter.” Joseph’s cold reply came, casted his fellow colleague’s concern away before he returned to the task at hand, “We’ve got to get this shit cleaned quickly.” 

“What?!? Dr. Sterling,” she began to reason, “there’s injured doctors and possibly fatalities around us. There’s-”

He cut off her excuses in midsentence. His voice blunt and cold, yet there was hard to argue reason in his next words when he finally managed to stand back up. “You realize this was possibly a ship wide event? Where do you think all the injured will be coming, Dr. Ross? If we’re not up and running, how many lives do you think will be lost due to…our excuses?”

Silence was her reply as another figure approached the pair, the Head of medical department, Dr. William Niven and a few years Joseph’s junior had rang his agreement alongside the man’s. He seemed to be in the best shape out of the three, his body lowered to help the younger doctor to her foot while Joseph up righted a chair for her to sit. “Dr. Sterling’s correct. I’ll organize the uninjured doctors and get this place to some working order. You, Dr. Ross and Sterling, are to assess the wounded and decide where they are sorted to. Hopefully there are no causalities or seriously injured.”

Joseph looked to object, only to have the department head cut him off. “Those are my orders Joseph. With that injured arm, you’re not going to be much help with anything more than assessing damage and shepherding victims into the ER. Trust my judgment, it’s for the best. Can’t have one of our best doctors crippled before he’s had a chance to save a few lives, can we?” 

With nothing farther, Dr. Niven left to begin his duties, he fully expected his colleagues to do theirs. Already the injured had begun to pour into the medical bays signaled by their screams and pain, wounds from minor scratches and bruises to broken bones and worse, crowded quickly. The medical area had seemed the least hit area; the doctors only banged around had rushed to their duties while Joseph, Ross and other slightly less useful doctor (luckily few in numbers) started to direct the patients according to their critical level and start to recover what equipment they could. Despite a few colleagues’ sympathies Joseph flatly refused to rest when more patients seemed to flood in. His professional pride and more had gotten the best of him in that moment.