"Don't talk," McCoy told him. His gaze flicked up for a moment, in time to see the patient hunched over the corpse, practically swimming in its blood and, Lord above, actually tearing into it. He could hear the wet chewing from here, along with the splatter of blood. The humanoid's back looked familiar, but with a patient on his hands, he couldn't mull it over further just yet. For now, that male patient was busy gorging himself on that creature. His attention wasn't on them just yet. He might have saved them, but he'd torn into that feline with a feral single-minded drive that McCoy didn't feel at all comfortable with.
The doctor looked back down at the wounds below. He couldn't say he liked the look of the rotted flesh fragments littering the nearby epidermal tissue. He cleaned them off as best he could, and quickly, before reaching for the first aid kit. It wasn't any substitute for a full on steri-field, but he had to stop that bleeding first. The sterilized gloves were already streaked with red.
The intercom crackled to life, and McCoy listened to it as best he could. He was more concerned with treating Jim, but he'd learned in the field that keeping an ear and eye out out could mean a difference between life and death. Tunnel visioning could be dangerous, ranging from finding out too late a hostile life form was creeping up behind you, to medical equipment suddenly failing, to a rocking ship in the middle of a surgery. Keeping an eye on your surroundings wasn't something you could ignore.
The Head Doctor ended up confirming what had happened last night. Portals though, he'd been wrong about transporters being involved. The result didn't do all that much for his stomach.
The noise that followed the announcement was almost enough to make him lose his focus. It was ear-splitting, seemed to hammer through his head, rattle his skull around. His fingers froze for a moment, clenched, before McCoy forced himself to continue. He pressed a gauze against the wounds, applying pressure to it, eyes watering from the high-pitched whine.
no subject
The doctor looked back down at the wounds below. He couldn't say he liked the look of the rotted flesh fragments littering the nearby epidermal tissue. He cleaned them off as best he could, and quickly, before reaching for the first aid kit. It wasn't any substitute for a full on steri-field, but he had to stop that bleeding first. The sterilized gloves were already streaked with red.
The intercom crackled to life, and McCoy listened to it as best he could. He was more concerned with treating Jim, but he'd learned in the field that keeping an ear and eye out out could mean a difference between life and death. Tunnel visioning could be dangerous, ranging from finding out too late a hostile life form was creeping up behind you, to medical equipment suddenly failing, to a rocking ship in the middle of a surgery. Keeping an eye on your surroundings wasn't something you could ignore.
The Head Doctor ended up confirming what had happened last night. Portals though, he'd been wrong about transporters being involved. The result didn't do all that much for his stomach.
The noise that followed the announcement was almost enough to make him lose his focus. It was ear-splitting, seemed to hammer through his head, rattle his skull around. His fingers froze for a moment, clenched, before McCoy forced himself to continue. He pressed a gauze against the wounds, applying pressure to it, eyes watering from the high-pitched whine.