As soon as Duncan was certain the Captain was okay, he was already moving onto the next task- which would've been strapping down the civilians, if it wasn't for the call for a doctor. Whizzing around, Duncan was a bit surprised to find a woman and her child inside the Jo's conference room, though he was even quicker to spot the sight of a man sitting in one of the chairs, a small pool of blood slowly expanding beneath him, blood dripping from his hands and the edge of the seat. Duncan dashed into the room- it was Fret, one of the surveyors, he had been shot.

[color=lightgreen]"Stay in your seats! Ma'am, please strap your son in."[/color] Duncan ordered, his voice maintaining a calm discipline as a mental command activated the communicator function in his Smart-Lenses, the device clipped to his belt automatically turning on. Directing his communications towards the medbay and his team, he called for them. [color=lightgreen]"I need hands! Conference Room, Richard, bring a stretcher!"[/color]

Duncan's natural hand unbuckled Fret from his seat, as the unnatural one pressed its fingers to his neck. Moments later, a small indicator appeared in the corner of his vision, the label read 'Chappel.F.', with an accompanying pulsating line and number indicating his heart rate, a small line leading towards his body. A quick cross reference with the Jotunheim's database and Fret's blood type, any pre-existing medical conditions and other recorded information began to overlay underneath the label. Getting shot was never a [i]good[/i] situation, but at least his vitals weren't too erratic. Ducan's natural hand slapped the man in the face.

[color=lightgreen]"Stay awake Chappel."[/color] Duncan ordered, [color=lightgreen]"You've been through worse, yeah?"[/color]

Duncan's cyberarm reached into the small medical bag he kept, the machine arm easily navigating through the meticulously organized contents. Out of the bag came a small cannister of biofoam. He gave it a quick shake then pressed it into Fret's wound. Medical foam quickly filled the wound with a hiss- a powerful cocktail of medical ingenuity designed to numb pain and stop blood loss, and would keep him intact until they got him back to the medical center. Taking Fret's hand, Duncan pressed it against the wound.

[color=lightgreen]"Pressure."[/color] Duncan commanded, [color=lightgreen]"Where's my stretcher?!"[/color]

[color=lavender]"Here Boss!"[/color] came the reply. As if on cue, the two medical assistants burst into the room, a small, powered stretcher between them. Without waiting for words, the male assistant went over to Duncan, and the two quickly lifted and dropped Fret into it. Duncan grabbed the back of the stretcher before pointing out into the service corridor. 

[color=lightgreen]"Richard, strap those civies down, Sara, check for more wounded."[/color] Glancing down at Fret, Duncan grabbed one of the straps and made sure he was secured on the stretcher. [color=lightgreen]"Look alive, Fret. Keep pressure on the wound, we're moving you up to the med bay."[/color] If push came to shove, Duncan could strap Fret to the stretcher and lock it down in place when the ship began moving, but if they were lucky he'd be able to get Fret to the Med bay, though any major operations would have to wait until they were still.