Sickbay Surge: Dual Births and a Desperate Diagnosis [PART 2]

Posted on 19 Dec 2025 @ 3:51pm by Lieutenant Paul Winchester & Lieutenant Serina "Reaper" Donovan & Lieutenant Lamia ‘Mia’ Kildare & 1st Lieutenant Gavin Ross Dr. & 1st Lieutenant Gavin II ROSS II Doctor & Sergeant Major Christopher "Chris" Kildare
Edited on on 20 Dec 2025 @ 4:06pm

1,870 words; about a 9 minute read

Mission: S04 Episode 02 The Hackers Backdoor (Incidentals)
Location: Sick Bay Isolation Ward Bay 01, Deck 07
Timeline: Current

[ON]

- Isolation Medical Bay 01 - Deck 07 -

The sterile hum of Isolation Bay 01 on Deck 07 swallowed the faint whoosh of the transporter beam, materialising Cassandra Matthews' bio-toxicity bed in a halo of containment fields. The chamber was a gleaming fortress of duranium and force-shielded bulkheads, retrofitted just months prior for precisely these doomsday scenarios, pulsed with the low throb of emergency protocols.

Holographic readouts danced across the walls like frantic fireflies, mapping viral trajectories in crimson vectors. At the same time, the air recyclers whispered a constant, clinical dirge, stripping away any illusion of breathable mercy.

Dr Gavin T. Ross materialised moments later, his medical kit slung over one shoulder like a warrior's satchel, the weight of command etching fresh lines into his already weary face. He paused at the threshold, the decon spray misting over him in a cold veil, before striding to the central console.

Cass lay still within the bed's shimmering cocoon, her vitals a fragile green thread on the display. Cured of the initial toxin, yes, but now a silent carrier in a storm she hadn't summoned. Hold on, old friend, he thought, jaw clenching as he initiated the automated splicer array. We've danced with worse devils. This one's just wearing a new mask.

The bay's doors cycled with a pressurised hiss, admitting Dr Shon and Dr Hawthorne. Dex to those who knew her fire firsthand in matching bio-suits, their visors fogging briefly from the shift in atmosphere. Shon's Vulcan poise held firm, though her eyes betrayed the logarithmic churn of probabilities she'd no doubt already calculated. Dex, ever the whirlwind, adjusted her gauntlets with a surgeon's precision, her earlier epiphany still burning in her gaze like a plasma flare.

Ross turned, his voice cutting through the hum like a scalpel.

"Status on the Tac signature isolation, Hawthorne? We've got a window shrinking faster than a neutron star collapse. Eight hours tops before airborne dissemination turns this ship into ground zero for Berner's bastard revenge." He gestured to the adjacent workstation, where the viral model rotated in holographic splendour, its hybrid coils mocking their scrutiny.

"Shon, sync the EMH with Cass's neural feeds. We can't afford a relapse blindside. Ladies, we've got one shot to splice a counteragent before Starfleet's brass turns the Tomcat into a floating tomb. Let's make Berner spin in his cell."

The fields flickered once, as if the bay itself sensed the precipice, and the three doctors converged, minds and machines aligning in the fragile alchemy of survival.

"Well, we have done all we can. We will soon be sending Matthews to Starbase 51 if we cannot achieve a breakthrough. We have done all we can with the Tomcat medical facilities."

- Main Sickbay - Emergency Medical Hologram Presiding -

In Sickbay's maternity wing on the USS Tomcat, the glow of monitors mixed quiet joy with a nagging edge. Two babies were born safely, but trouble was brewing elsewhere on the ship. The primary docs Ross, Hawthorne, and Dex had just rushed off to Isolation Deck 07 for Cassandra's viral mess, leaving the EMH to spark online in its blue shimmer, splitting the duties of watching the new moms. Backing it up was Dr Gavin Ross-2, the transporter clone, looking every bit as beat as the original, tricorder ready as he stepped in from standby.

The EMH's voice sliced through the beeps, all business: "Medical emergency? Looks like two solid births and... one odd hitch. Stabilising now."

Ross-2 gave the holo-doc a quick nod, eyes scanning the split bays. Over by the right bulkhead, Lamia Kildare leaned back on her biobed, a worn-out smile on her face as Chris held their boy like he might break him, the kid's fist locked on his finger. "Eyes like yours already, Cap," Ross-2 murmured, running a light scan. "Everything's steady. Twelve hours of observation. Squeeze in those six months before Starbase 51 takes over."

On the other side, things were rougher: Serena Donovan strapped down in a faint bio-field, twitching with soft PTSD whines, the room her safe space now. Paul Winchester stuck close, his synth-arm firm on her shoulder, face hard with worry after that guttural roar earlier that still buzzed the walls.

Ross-2 moved in, EMH matching stride, tweaking settings on the fly. "Easy, Lieutenant. You're good, pups included," the clone doc said low, firing up a neural damper. "Winchester, talk to her. That's your line to pull." The EMH added a calming pulse.

"Post-trauma regression, maybe from the birth hit. Starting the DSM scan. Sedation on deck if needed, but family first. Paging Counsellor Kildare; nothing beats that here."

The room eased into a tense watch, the Tomcat humming onward as these two crews held tight against whatever hit next.

Having been recalled to Sickbay upon hearing that his wife was having hallucinations of her captivity by the Orions, Paul started to wonder if she was suffering from PTSD, and if she was, it would hamper her chances of ever getting back into a cockpit of a fighter ever again. He asked, " Doctor, is Sereina suffering some sort of PTSD?"

Chris pulled up a stool and sat down next to his wife, holding his sleeping son "You know, Mia, our lives are not going to be the same again", he said

“No, they’re not”, Lamia agreed as she smiled happily at her peaceful son. “We’re parents now, we just need to learn to juggle that.”

"That is an understatement. At least we have that holographic nanny to help us!" He said.

Lamia nodded. “True, but I’d like to be as hands-on as I can for as long as we have our son on board.” She stifled a yawn; she was completely tired out.

"You need your sleep" Chris said as he handed his son to a nurse to place in a cot for the tyke to sleep for a bit.

Doctor Ross the Second, again involved in a transport accident of significant severity, replied just as the original Doctor Ross, who was currently overseeing Matthews in the isolation bay.

He paused, addressing the question. He didn’t want to breach medical confidentiality; however, a superior officer in rank and on a need-to-know basis had asked him about Serina.

"Commander." Ross looked him in the eye with concern and empathy. “Lt. Donovan may have experienced a PTSD flashback. This is common when the body is stressed, especially in females giving birth. It is not unrecorded in Starfleet Medical Journals. However, she will need to be closely monitored before she is granted once again to flight status.” He wanted to convey the situation as factually as it was.

“If you are asking me, will she be able to return to her old self? I am quite certain. The hippocampus effects show she is struggling right now; however, under medicated rhythmic correlation facilitators (RCF) therapy, Serena will be back to her old self in no time. With a healthy child to boot.” He replied with an upbeat note.

"Thanks, Doc, I was just worried for her," Paul stated, looking at his wife. He asked the EHM, " May I ask one question, doc?" turning to face the holographic image of Ross. He said, " How long would you say that she is to be grounded for?"

The EMH image of Ross pondered for a few moments. He paused, consulting his integrated scans and the second reports from the Main Computer. Ross narrowed his eyes, thoughtful yet measured. “That is yet to be seen. It all depends on Lt. Donovan herself. Once I see cortisol biomarkers, she can be cleared for duty. At that point, it's a matter of how quickly her paperwork can be processed to return her to flight status. I assume she will need some basic fitness flight testing… For an accomplished pilot like herself, not much time.” Gavin quipped, hopeful.

"Doctor, do you think Serina would be better off on Starbase 51 or remaining here?" asked Paul. He knew that he would have to send a memo to the Captain about this. He turned to face his wife. But he wanted what was for both her and the Squadrion.

"I believe Serena would do best in the surroundings that she is accustomed to being within. Surely at a Starbase she might be overwhelmed, and become dispondent. Especially in a recovery situation, we want to surround her with what she is used to. What her passion is, such as her Fighter Squadron." Doctor Gavin Ross EMH stated. "This is in full accordance with what Dr Ross himself would state." The EMH iterated with full confidence in his report to Commander Kildare.

"If that is all your questions, I will begin my report to the Captain regarding Serena's condition and considerations on return to work duties." He nodded with the usual candour and kindness that the real Gavin Ross, currently on the isolation deck, would state.

"Doctor, we do have family on the station, such as her mum and dad, who are looking after the girls," he stated, keeping an eye on his wife. He continued, "And also my Sister Paula is there as well, would that help her?"

"That could very well be a help. I will have to speak with Starbase 51 regarding medical and ongoing basic needs for support. I believe that would help her immensely if she cannot reside on the Tomcat for the time being." The Ross II EMH replied in fact.

Serina started to stir, and Paul bent over to her. He said, "What is it with you, Serina? We have another set of Twins?" She looked back at him with a weak smile and gave a short nod, and then she drifted back off to sleep. Paul looked back at her once more and said to Ross, " I will come back later and see how she is doing, He said as he turned and left the sickbay.

It couldn't haven't been more than 5 minutes after Paul had left Medical, Serina opened her mouth, "No!! Take them to the station, Paula's there, and she'll know what to do. Get Paul and Captain Somers NOW," She collapsed back down onto the bed. "Groaning as she lay on the bed, groaning as she closed her eyes and fell asleep.

[OFF]

 

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