How I Got Here: "Just The Beginning"
23 Sep 2022Columbuss
Commander Justin Estok. Stardate 23-SEP-3308."Anything but a magazine subscription..."
Medical wings are always cold. They're cold, quiet places despite the constant shuffling about of nurses, doctors and medical staff. Between footsteps the only thing "alive" are the machines breathing life into the patients over the sound of steady beeps and drips from one medical IV or another. Every so often, someone in blue medical scrubs wheels by with a cart. In another room down the hall, a doctor is pulling the divider sheet closed and turning off life support for someone who's had better days.
"Can I get you anything?" I ask, standing up from the side of John's bed.
"Anything but a magazine subscription..." he says.
"You're not gonna die..." I say with a chuckle.
"I feel like I already am."
I walk out into the waiting room, past other people patiently waiting and hoping for good news from inside the ward. Some people are sleeping, having been there for quite some time. Others eagerly watch the door with a kind of look in their eye that says any news from inside is good, even if it's bad. It's a fragile look, constantly teetering between grief and relief. The slightest push from inside can tilt it one way or another.
I press a button on the refreshment dispenser which starts pouring out hot, black coffee into a paper cup when I see John's doctor walk by.
"Excuse me," I say, reaching out to stop him. "Is there any word on John's condition?"
"Well," he says, slightly irritated to have been stopped and with a wave over the tablet he's carrying, brings up John's medical chart which projects itself in the air between us. "Mr. Grayson is suffering from oxygen deprivation coupled with some serious lacerations and blood loss. We're trying to balance his blood oxygen levels with stims. Overall, it looks like he arrived just in time. At this point we're looking at recovery time, not survival."
The doctor walks away, back to his intended destination, as I turn back to the ward. Sitting down next to John's bed, he's a bit more "with it", trying to sit up. I try to encourage him not to but, by now, there's no dissuading John of anything.
"When do I get out of here?' he asks.
"Soon. You're recovering. I just spoke to the doctor."
"What's the situation out there?"
Recounting tales of combat to John was always simple. The stories can be brief and without too much detail. For a veteran like him, he knows the particulars. I tell him how long he's been here and that during that time, the resistance pressed an attack on Dynasty ships at Chu Dock, an important stronghold over the A star in this system. Dynasty ships fell back as resistance marines boarded the station. We now had a striking point on the Dynasty side of the system.
"Long story short," I say, "the council is expecting the Dynasty to sue for peace."
"You mean Grill is expecting them to sue for peace. The guys such a bureaucrat. He's got no balls."
John and I sit in silence for a bit as I sip my coffee. The temperature in the room seems to lower, as the steam from the cup hangs in the air in front of my face. John must be restless, sitting in this room all day with not so much as a window to look out of. With the way Gilleken is rotating, even if there was a window, it'd be in the floor.
"I dont trust him," John says, breaking the silence.
"Who?'
"Grill..." he says. "I'm telling you Justin, somethings coming. This isn't over..." he says with a pause before turning back to me. "This is just the beginning."