Medical Tent

As the sergeant passes out of the tent, Sarah sighs and heads back to her cot and sits back down with her notebook and resumes thumbing through it. After a few moments she shakes her head again and exhales dejectedly. Maybe some other day, she thinks as she closes the book and places it in the chest at the foot of her cot. With the effects of the bone-chilling cold settling in and the buzz of the alcohol waning, Sarah lays down on her cot with a yawn. How long had it been since she had slept... really slept?

It seemed her head had hardly touched the pillow when the blood-curdling scream was heard from outside, waking her from any semblance of a dream and back into the cold and bitter reality that was her life on this planet. She was on her feet in seconds, and bolting for the tent door. A scream like that didn't come without provocation, so either a brawl had erupted or they were under attack. She threw open the flap and darted outside, not bothering to put on her parka. Thankfully she was always cold, so despite being inside, she still was layered pretty decently.

For just a moment as she hurried to the center of the camp the thought crossed her mind that she was completely unarmed. No that she would be of much use in any sort of melee, gun or no. And not that any of their weapons had seemed to have much of an effect on the native wildlife.

As Sarah and her cohort return to the medical tent, the noise of gunfire appears to have gotten the attention of the night crew. The sudden appearance of grim-faced officers speaks for itself, and without orders the airmen-turned-corpsmen begin moving the already-wounded to cots as far from the door as possible, freeing up the entry space for triage.

"Good, good, we're all awake" Sarah comments as she pushes open the flap to the medical tent and ducks inside. Her tone isn't precisely chipper, but she's obviously more alert and energetic than the rest of the medical crew that are drowsily transforming the interior of the tent. "Nagle. Franklin. Let's get the OR up and running, too. No word on what's going on out there, but there are awful lot of people rushing about to see what is going on. I'd expect the wounded to start trickling in in the next fifteen minutes."

"The rest of you, form up into three teams so we can triage and treat any wounded that come in. I want a doc, a nurse, and a few of medics on each team. And any of you who have surgical experience, step on forward. You'll be working with Franklin and Nagle in the OR."

With that, Sarah walks over to the supply cabinet and grabs a gown and quickly puts it on. Never a dull moment, she thinks to herself as she supervises the preparations.

Sarah watches as the medical tent springs to life and listens as sporadic rounds of gunfire erupt in the distance. Eventually things fall silent and dread begins to set in. No stream of wounded coming towards the tent. No string of ANYTHING, and no sounds of gunfire. Someone, or something was horribly efficient, she thought with a shudder. And no sign of Edelmann. That worried her.

Walking over to the tent flap she pushed it open and looked about. Nothing. The camp seemed deserted. She swore to herself. Too efficient. Just as she was about to duck back into the tent she saw some movement in the pre-dawn light. Dread overtook her for a moment and she felt her stomach in her throat. A moment later, she recognized the movement as Edelmann and what she only could assume was the security detail she'd requested what seemed like ages ago.

"About f'in time," she mutters as she steps back into the tent, her relief that there were at least some security forces left alive between the medical tent and the wilderness largely tempering her anger that it took so long.

"Sounds like things have quieted down for the moment," Sarah calls out to the assembled staff in the tent. "Expect any wounded soon."

Captain Sarah Morgan
Prepare accordingly, she curses under her breath. Sure would help if I knew WHY she was unresponsive. Dammit, she thinks, don't let the stone ring have fried her brain or something. If anyone was going to have a break through on those rings it was likely going to be Bethany. Everyone else seemed to have given up on understanding them aside from Bethany and herself. And as much as she liked puzzles, she would be the first to admit she was out of her league with THAT one. Maybe she would have to start studying Ancient more seriously...

Sarah stalks over to the radio and grabs it. <Morgan here. Any clue WHY Jenkins is unresponsive? That would sort of help me figure out how to prepare.>

Shock... well, at least it doesn't sound like it was from blood loss, which was probably a good thing. They didn't exactly have blood to transfuse readily available and bleeding a couple of otherwise healthy individuals wasn't high on her list of things to do. Hopefully this was something simple enough to be solved by a good whiff of Epson salts. Anyone on this assignment should have enough self possession to handle something like this. When I signed on, she thinks, We all knew we stood the chance of coming face to face with a Wraith or some other creature... of course I doubt most of us thought it would be terribly likely...

"Ok, prepare a warm bed and get out the smelling salts for Dr. Jenkins," Sarah orders as she shrugs out of her gown. At least the poor woman was only nearly eaten by the local fauna...

<Morgan to Thorsson. Understood. None of you should be out much longer in these temperatures. Blankets and coffee such that it is will be ready.>

Captain Micheal Wantanabe

The Captain walks into the medical tent and walks up to Captain Morgan.

"Captain, I have a security detail outside ready to escort your team to pick up the body."

Captain Sarah Morgan

Sarah gives a tired nod to Wantanabe. "Edelmann, head out with the security detail and bring back... whatever is left."

ooc

(OOC: Edelmann and three security airmen arriving on scene.)

About an hour later, the tired-looking nurse returns with her security detail. Everyone is covered to the waist in snow, and Edelmann looks red-faced and winded from helping carry the body from the distant observation post to the medical tent. She sets the now-stiff body bag down on the floor and begins brushing the snow off herself. "Damned powder, can't walk over the top of it," she grumbles to anyone within earshot.