It had been a long night and a short rest for the neurosurgical team. Two high level, in depth emergency surgeries from the same freighter accident. A distress call that ripped through the medical team’s commlines at an house when most people were thinking about tucking their children in to bed and settling down with a good holonovel, a Federation freighter had a critical system’s malfunction, lost atmosphere for twenty seven minutes in the engineering section and two good engineers were found unresponsive after they were able to get systems back online.

Oxygen deprivation caused frontal lobe damage. The neurosurgical team was called in to fix as much of the damage as they could as soon as the injured were beamed into the medical center.

Theran Jos was very good at his job. With a steady hand, a keen mind to all the newest techniques and innovations and an unerring confidence, he was a natural choice to be one of the surgeons assigned to this task. And despite all that confidence and skill, the surgery had not gone well.

The freighters medbay was not well equipped, so while they tended the body, the brains of the patients had deteriorated even further during the mad dash to arrive at Starbase Bravo.

The neurosurgical teams had done the best they could. But Theran would readily admit that the patients would certainly need therapy and likely need more surgeries to fully recover. Exhausted, antennae curled dowards, his jaunty smile reduced to a tired yawn, he slunk towards a familiar face. Minh Nao, the Attending Psychiatrist, would be taking the lead on the recovery from here.

“Tag, you’re it. The patients should be awake within the next two hours…” Jos opened with a dull, tired tone.

Minh nodded, “You look like you can use this friend.” handed Jos a Raktajeno, and took a seat, she had sensed something in the patient, but it was nothing but confusion. ‘You will be alright.’ she replied to the man telepathically, hoping he could atleast attempt to hear a friendly voice. Judging by the reports and the deterioration of the Frontal lobes, one could only hope.

“I’m just tired… but yeah, you’re right.” Theran waved a hand in a somewhat defeated manner before slumping into a chair and accepting the raktajino with gratitude. He fell silent as Minh turned her attention towards the recovery room.

“He is just running around in circles in there. Not knowing what to do.” Minh’s look saddened.

Theran’s antennae twined together. “There was a lot of damage. I can’t imagine what it’s like to touch his mind.”

“Being fully Betazoid, I can control it. I am actually able to control it better than most.” Minh replied.

Taking in a slow breath the neurosurgeon drank the caffeine and let it settle in as his thoughts swirled around his brain. “I don’t envy you. The part of the brain that took the most damage was the pre-frontal cortex. So a lot of that executive decision making functioning is gone.” It left whatever was left of the brain running on emotions. Making decisions on only what feels trickled through, without thought or logic. A Vulcan nightmare. Actually, anyone’s nightmare.

“What of his Captain? Has he notified his Next of Kin?” Minh inquired. These sorts of decisions do not come lightly. Considering the location of SB-B it would take some time for communications to go outbound, and for it to come back, it would be a minimum of four hours. “It would be a minimum of four hours at the earliest, and the best I can do is make him comfortable in hopes that he pulls through.”

“The freighter Captain let us know that she alerted the next of kin shortly after the accident happened – that was almost two days ago, so they know. But most are days, if not weeks out. The last communication went outwards only thirty minutes ago.” Theran trailed off, his blue eyes looking off into space. “I suppose they’re just waiting out there, in the dark, hoping and praying.” It sounded cold and lonely.

Minh let out a deep sigh and walked over to the medical supplies. Went to the sink and filled it with warm water. “Something that I learnt over time, if it feels like someone is holding their hand, it calms them.” she said as she placed the luque warm glove on the hand of the patient.

“How have you been Doctor?” she asked her friend.

He took in a long, deep breath and sighed. “Pretty decent. But tired. You would think there wouldn’t be such a call for unscheduled neurosurgery.” If there was one thing about Theran, it was that he lived on schedules. Many patients came to Starbase Bravo’s specialty medical facilities from quite a distance. meaning that they scheduled their procedures days, sometimes weeks in advance.

But with the fleet headed out to the Shackleton expanse, some of the personnel on the starbase had been called to exploration duty. Theran was the opposite – he liked the stability of being on a starbase and opted to stay here. But in return he was taking on the work on some of his exploratory colleagues.

“Well dealing with such a diverse shipping lane, and being so central I would imagine it would bring in all sorts of Medical needs.” The Psychiatrist said.

He settled back, trying to forget about the man in the room recovering nearby. “How about you? Have things been busier than normal in the psychiatric ward, too?”

“Well I was recently promoted, and yeah. It comes with loads more paper work, I had to cut my patient loads in half, it is unfortunate. Such is the life of an Attending Psychologist.” Minh said.

“Congratulations!” Despite his currently dropping posture, Theran worked up a smile for the occasion. “I remember reading that on the department newsflash. I’m sorry, i should have reached out.”

“You are the busiest Neuro-surgeon I know. It is fine,” she smiled, “I personally am coming to terms with it too.”

He waved a hand, a bit of that raised-on-Risa charm percolating up. “Well, maybe I can make it up and get you lunch?  Or your favorite caffeinated beverage?” The age-old treat your friends options.

“Sure, maybe when you have some down time.” she smiled. “I’d like that very much.”