All around them there was movement. Brown wasn’t used to being in the Sick Bay at times like these. Usually he was out there, phase in hand, doing the fighting or by Captain Vaella’s side on the bridge. He’d seen so much death over the years that he’d almost lost sight of what it meant. Here amongst the Orion’s wounded, its women and children, Brown felt uniquely vulnerable. Down here in the Sick Bay he felt mortal.

“One of the Jem’Hadar tagged me with a plasma rifle,” Brown mumbled as he played the firefight back in his memory. “Felt like nothing to begin with but the wound won’t stop bleeding. Must be some kind of anticoagulant.”

The Jem’Hadar were warriors through and through but their choice of ammunition spoke to their true nature. Though they excelled at war the Jem’Hadar’s real currency was death. They were killers. It wasn’t enough to shoot a man. They wanted to make sure he bled out sooner than allow him to escape. There was no end to the Jem’Hadar’s cruelty and Brown himself now found himself on the receiving end of it. The Security Chief smiled weakly as he recalled the Jem'Hadar First falling victim to [i]his[/i] cruelty.

Malachi looked to Cole with a grimace. “Do whatever you need to do, Doc.”