Star Trek: Atlantis

Recovery

USS Merkava (NCC-61695)

Ambassador-class

Captain Jacinda Cromwell commanding.

37 hours out from Starbase 114.

Doctor Trevor Bradley sat down in his office chair—after six hours of emergency surgery and another three hours of triage—in order to stabilize the worst cases until they could reach Starbase 114: Located deep inside the Galamar System.

Rubbing his tired eyes, the experienced veteran from the heyday of the Cardassian Border Wars took a deep breath—opened his eyes and focused on one of many medical screens in front of his desk terminal.

"Gods..." he whispered—seeing nothing but blood and a never ending cascade of fluids in his mind's eye.

One of his attending nurses came stumbling in as well—unsteady on his feet—like the rest of the overworked medical staff onboard ship.

"Teams One and Three are finished in Cargo Bays Four and Five, Doctor." The man said with a harried rush of breath.

"Is it okay if I sit down with you and take a break?"

Bradley nodded—waving his limp hand towards the empty chair—in front of him.

"Be my guess, Felix. I'm in no shape to start pulling rank now." Taking a deep breath, he sighed.

"Not after today."

The other man nodded somberly—before accepting his superior's offer.

"I know." He responded quietly. "Too many losses to count—on our side."

Bradley nodded in return.

"...way too many."

"Worse than Wolf-359. That's for sure."

The doctor went quiet after that—leaving Felix Canton to wonder if he stepped over the line again—like he did the last time this sore subject came up during past discussions.

"Sorry." He quickly apologized.

Bradley waved his hand again in sheer exhaustion.

"Don't worry about it. It's water under the bridge—as they say back home."

"Yeah, but still...I know you lost a good friend during the Borg invasion. And I know from our talks, she was a joy to have around on the Jamestown."

"Those where the days," the other man said softly. "Callie always knew how to cheer me up—when I was busy doing my culture studies in Lab Four."

Felix nodded discreetly.

"Does it get any easier? I mean, with all these setbacks and losses?"

The doctor shook his head.

"Not in this lifetime. I could tell you every single person I met, every girl I fell in love with, every comrade in arms that I lost during every known conflict or battle—but saying that won't make things any easier. Not for me, not for you, not for anyone in this business as Starfleet officers."

Felix nodded silently.

"So why didn't you retire—when offered, sir? Why stick around when we're having to face those situations all over again?"

Bradley looked at his most trusted friend and head nurse.

"What...and miss all of this? No..." he said with another sigh. "This would've ended the same way as it did with the Jamestown at Wolf-359. I just...had to learn how to bury my sorrow and my pain."

Felix looked away for a moment. "For some reason—sir—I could never do that. Not even on a good day."

The other man smiled.

"I never expected you to, my friend. Not after I saw the look on your face when you ran into your old Academy classmate: Lieutenant Sally Sheffield."

Felix smiled briefly.

"I'm just glad she made it. When I heard about the Canberra's destruction over subspace...? I thought the worst had happened."

"That's what makes us human, Felix." The other man said—before leaning forward in his chair to check on something on one of the monitors in front of him.

"Go grab yourself a cup of coffee. And get me a cup of tea. Lemon with a bit of honey in it—from the replicator."

Felix nodded. "Will do." And got up out of his seat--walking over to the replicator slot across the office.

"Anything to eat to go with it?"

"Monte Cristo." Bradley said absently.

"Got it." Felix said—before placing their orders.