Starfleet Corps of Engineers
Trapped on a strange world, Dr. Elizabeth Lense finds herself aiding the Jabari freedom fighters as their new medic, working with equipment she finds primitive on people wounded in their fight against the Kornak. All the while she hopes that her crewmates on the da Vinci might rescue her -- and not blame her for the death of Julian Bashir....
Unknown to her, though, Bashir is alive, recovering in a Kornak military facility, where he becomes the focus of a power struggle between the medical and military personnel in the hospital. When the Jabari attack the hospital, Lense and Bashir find themselves on opposite sides of a conflict that can only end in tragedy....
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Pocket Books/Star Trek
September 30, 2005
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Excerpt from Star Trek: Wounds, Book 2 by Ilsa J. Bick
So, contestants, today's puzzler. Given the opportunity to whack off some poor guy's leg without anesthesia, would Elizabeth Lense rather:
a) chow down on a bowl of wriggly gagh chased with shots of piping hot bahgol while simultaneously squatting naked as a jaybird with Tev in a mudbath and being tortured with Klingon painstiks;
b) have Captain Gold as her therapist forever because there's no way in hell she's going to be anywhere near normal if she ever gets off this dustball of a planet;
c) gladly go anywhere in the known universe with Julian Bashir while he gabs on about being a Remarkable Frontier Doctor;
d) all of the above;
e) What, haven't you been listening Julian Bashir is dead; Lense is stuck somewhere hell and gone; people are trying really hard to die right and left; and you're worried about some dumb stupid game Get out of my way.
Blood drizzled in a sludgy brown stream, soaking thin linen thrown over a makeshift surgical table, a wood pallet balanced on twin stacks of flat rocks. The wound site was a mess: a gory crater of pulverized bone and blasted flesh midway below the right knee. There was no way in hell Lense could save that leg.
You know, d is pretty damned attractive.
"Okay, okay, hold him still," Lense said. They were nine in all: Lense and the patient as well as the seven others she needed to hold her patient thanks to that lack of anesthetic. To Lense's left, Mara controlled the leg from the knee down, and Saad stood to Lense's right. The leg was flexed at a right angle and Saad pulled down on the knee until it canted fifteen degrees from horizontal.
Reeling in a deep breath, Lense spread the fingers of her left hand over the man's inner thigh. His skin jumped and his head snapped up, and his knee wobbled as he strained to kick free. "Please," he said. His teeth were bared in a grimace of fear and pain, and he was sweating so much his gray-blue skin shone as if oiled. "Please, please, please, don't take off my leg, please don't take my leg, please, don't ' "
"No, I'm sorry, got to do this, just hold on," Lense said, and then simply whipped her scalpel over his skin. The knife bit through skin, slashing open his thigh and cutting fat, fascia, and muscle in the first pass.
The man let go of a high, keening shriek. Chocolate-brown blood spurted from severed veins and arterioles, and he bellowed with pain. The pallet shifted, and she heard the squawk of wood grating on stone.
"For God's sake, hold him!" she shouted. Last thing she needed was to cut herself, or send the blade through the artery before she was ready. "All I need is a couple more minutes!" This was a lie; she needed a lot more than two or three minutes. There were muscles and tendons to cut; nerves to suture to muscle; an artery to find, clamp, and then tie off so he wouldn't bleed to death ' to say nothing of sawing through bone. And that was just to get the leg off.
"Hurry." Saad, at her right elbow. He was a big man, easily two meters tall and muscular, but even he was struggling. "You must work faster, Elizabeth."
She slashed through muscle and fascia. Talked herself through it: Okay, coming across the top now; there goes the semimembranosus, and then I got to be careful because of the sciatic nerve; got to cut that fast and then tag it so I can suture it to the short head of the biceps femoris; yeah, that'd be best ' .