Starship: Resistance - ON HOLD

Chapter Thirteen

 Carter had been enjoying the festival, at least until Cade's panicked call had come through. After working in the hell–or at least purgatory–that was the Invidia City One hospital, she and Hisashi had just been spending their evening reveling in the knowledge that they wouldn't have to fill out patient charts, or stitch up wounds, or mop up vomit, or anything else, all night.

Cade's call put a wrench in an otherwise lovely evening, and Carter felt an overwhelming desire to whack her head, very hard, against the nearest solid surface, and to do it repeatedly. Still, if worst case scenario, and she would have possibly hundreds of patients on her hands, so she bit the bullet and ran to the hospital to prep it.

She and Hisashi had spent a good ten minutes scrubbing everything down and pulling out all the suture kits, all the gauze, counting up their supply of O negative blood, and everything else they could need in the event of a mass casualty event.

And then came the follow-up call, and Carter swore. Very loudly. Great, so her lovely evening had not just been interrupted by a false alarm, but by other Rangers, too. Fan-fucking-tastic.

She and Hisashi set aside what they were doing and exchanged a you've got to be kidding me glance. Carter let out a massive sigh and pulled her winter gear back on. "Well, so much for a quiet evening," she muttered.

Hisashi grimaced. "Well, at least the hospital's ready for anything, now. That can't hurt."

Carter groaned. "How the hell are you staying so damn positive about this?"

"Honestly?" Hisashi said tiredly. "I'm glad we have reinforcements, and a better hospital facility onboard the Rogue, although, knowing you and Rowan, we'll probably keep working here, won't we?"

Carter shrugged and made for the door. "Don't know," she admitted. "God, I'm so fucking tired. I just want one day to go by without anything bad happening, just one. That can't be too much to ask." She jammed her hat onto her head and pushed the door open. "I need a break. I'm burned out, Hisashi. I've never felt this powerless or ineffective before."

"Yeah," Hisashi sighed. "Anyway, I need a drink. Let's get alcohol."

"I'm in," Carter said heavily. "I need booze, too."

"Let's go back to that good bar stand we found earlier," Hisashi suggested. "I think I saw whiskey on the menu."

Carter grinned and walked out into the cold, headed straight for where she knew there would be alcohol. She needed it, right then. It was time, and past, for a drink. "Let's go. Move your ass."

Hisashi snorted. "On your six."

They traipsed through the ankle-deep snow, side by side, despite what Hisashi had joked, in companionable silence. After awhile, Hisashi spoke up again. "So, are you going to fight in the Games?"

Carter shrugged. "Probably not. I don't know. Depends if there's anyone else to take my place, if twenty people are fighting. But I'd rather be one of the team medics, you know."

"Yeah," Hisashi answered. "Me too. And I don't think Cade's going to be fighting, which means three spots to fill, at least. Wonder who it'll be."

Carter shrugged. "Some damn good fighters, probably."

"I bet one of them will be the Falcon squad Sergeant–what's his name, again?"

"Uh, Dean, I think," Carter said. "Or, uh, Drew, maybe? Wait, yeah, it's Drew. Drew something-or-other. You're talking about the kinda-hot one, right?"

"Uh, yeah, I guess," Hisashi said. "The Bear squad Lieutenant's Dean. Dean Lachlan. So, yeah, I think it's Drew." He snapped his fingers. "Drew Lance, that's it, I think."