Back in the Game
Posted on Tue Apr 14th, 2026 @ 10:24am by Lieutenant Aelira Valan’thir & Ensign Amanda Turell
1,684 words; about a 8 minute read
Mission:
Crisis at Zeta-294
Location: Sickbay
Timeline: MD05
Days of resting, days of only light exercise, days of not being able to work were starting to grate at Amanda's psyche, it may have only been a week since she woke up but her body was itching to be fully active again, to get back to training, shooting and putting her skills to use wherever they were needed. The one thing holding her back was being cleared for it by the new Cmo, so there she was pacing up and down the corridor outside sickbay for a few minutes before eventually stepping inside.
Aelira looked up from the console before the Sickbay doors opened.
Not because of sound — there wasn’t any — but because something just shifted. Restless energy, coiled tight and pointed straight at the room like an arrow waiting to be loosed. She set the PADD aside and turned slightly, already facing the entrance by the time Amanda stepped inside.
“There you are,” Aelira said, easy and unhurried, as if Amanda had simply arrived late to a conversation already underway. “I was wondering when you’d stop circling and come in.”
She gestured toward an open biobed with a small tilt of her head, inviting rather than directing. No hurry. No judgement.
“Come on,” she added gently. “Tell me what’s going on.”
"How did you..." Amanda began to ask but left it. She headed for the biobed the Lieutenant was gesturing to, "I want you to clear me for duty."
Aelira didn’t answer the unfinished question. She just gave Amanda a small, knowing look — not smug, not mysterious. Simply aware.
When Amanda got straight to the point, Aelira nodded once.
“Of course you do.”
She moved to the console and called up Amanda’s file. The injuries scrolled into view in clinical detail — compound fracture of the radius and ulna with bone penetration, skull fracture, punctured lung, internal haemorrhage, concussion, extensive blunt force trauma across the torso. Ten days since surgical repair. Ten days since she’d been put back together in layers.
Aelira picked up a tricorder and stepped closer.
“Lie back for me please.”
The scan began with a soft, steady hum. She worked methodically, eyes moving between Amanda and the readout.
“Bone regeneration is progressing well,” she murmured, mostly to herself. “The arm’s knitting cleanly. No displacement, no micro-fracturing along the repair line.”
She adjusted the scan, sweeping it higher.
“Pulmonary tissue is sealed. Oxygen saturation’s stable. No residual fluid.” A pause. “That’s good.”
Another pass — cranial scan this time.
“The skull fracture has fully fused. Neural activity is normal. No swelling, no delayed bleed.” Her gaze flicked briefly to Amanda. “Concussion markers are clear.”
She lowered the tricorder slightly and shifted to a deeper systemic scan.
“Your body’s healing fast. Strong baseline physiology.” A faint glance at the file again. “Not your first serious injury.”
That wasn’t judgement. Just fact.
She powered the tricorder down and rested it against her palm.
“Here’s what I see,” Aelira said plainly. “Structurally, you’re healing very well. Better than average, actually. But you’re still within the recovery window for trauma this extensive.”
Her eyes held Amanda’s, steady and folded her arms loosely.
“So tell me,” she added, tone calm rather than confrontational. “Do you want to be cleared because you’re ready… or because you’re tired of sitting still?”
Amanda opened her mouth but hesitated slightly. "A bit of both." She eventually admitted.
Aelira gave a small, thoughtful hum at that.
“Alright,” she said simply. “Before I sign anything, I need to know how you’re actually feeling.”
Her tone stayed easy, not clinical.
“Any headaches? Dizziness? Arm giving you grief when you put weight through it? Chest tight when you push yourself?”
She let the questions hang for a moment, watching Amanda rather than the monitors.
“You healed well. That’s not the issue. I just need to be sure you’re not powering through something that’s going to bite you later.”
A small tilt of her head.
“I can look at a phased return. Training first. Not throwing you into the deep end straight away.” A beat. “But I’m not clearing you just because you’re bored.”
Amanda fought the urge to roll her eyes. "You've seen my record doctor, I've bounced back from worse than this before, just as quickly. I feel fine."
Aelira didn’t react to the eye-roll she almost got. She’d seen that look before.
“I have seen your record,” she said evenly. “Shoulder instability from childhood. Disruptor wound. Falls. Burns. You’ve taken hits and kept moving.”
She stepped a little closer, not looming — just steady.
“But this wasn’t one injury. It was a compound fracture, skull fracture, internal bleeding, and a punctured lung all in the same incident.” A small pause. “That’s your body absorbing shock on multiple systems at once.”
Her gaze stayed level.
“You didn’t bounce back from worse. You survived a lot. There’s a difference.”
Not harsh. Just honest.
“You feel fine because your pain tolerance is high and your baseline conditioning is strong. That doesn’t mean your nervous system isn’t still recalibrating.”
She folded her arms lightly.
“And the more often you ‘bounce back,’ the more your body compensates. Your right shoulder’s already weaker. If I clear you too fast, guess where your body shifts the load?”
A brief glance to her arm.
“I’m not questioning your resilience. I’m protecting your longevity.”
A beat.
“So I’ll say this once. I believe you when you say you feel fine. But feeling fine isn’t the only metric.”
She tilted her head slightly.
“Work with me. Not against me.”
"I am working with you, following every step of this physiotherapy plan for the last 9 days, not overdoing it in the gym." Amanda replied. The doctor was right though, this was probably the worst injury she'd had in her career. "I'm ready for something, even if it's just standing around looking mean or guarding a door."
Aelira listened without interrupting, her expression thoughtful rather than argumentative. She had already seen enough in Amanda’s file to understand the kind of person she was dealing with. Some people healed by staying still. Others healed by moving again as soon as they were able. Amanda very clearly belonged to the second group.
After a moment she gave a small nod, accepting the reality of that.
“Alright,” she said, her tone calm but decisive. “Then we do this properly.”
She stepped closer to the biobed, resting a hand lightly on the edge of it as she spoke. There was no lecture in her voice now, just a practical kind of understanding.
“You’re healing well, but your body’s still catching up with what it went through. That means no full tactical load, no weapons training yet, and no situations where you’re likely to be thrown into a fight.”
Her gaze lifted back to Amanda, steady but not unkind.
“What I can clear you for is light duty. Security presence, controlled environments, the sort of assignments where you’re upright and useful without having to test every repair we just finished making.” A faint hint of humour touched her expression. “Standing around looking intimidating falls comfortably into that category.”
She straightened slightly, the decision clearly made. “We’ll keep you on that for a few days and see how your body responds. If everything holds steady, we step it up from there.”
Amanda practically smiled from ear to ear, "Just what I wanted to hear." She told her already planning on how far she could stretch what 'light duty' stood for.
Aelira caught the shift in her immediately.
It wasn’t in the words so much as the energy behind them — that sharp little lift of satisfaction, the kind that usually meant someone had already started planning how far they could push the edges of what they’d just been given. She said nothing. Just held Amanda’s gaze for a beat longer than usual, enough that the meaning sat there between them whether either of them named it or not.
Then she turned back to the console and pulled up the clearance form.
“Light duty only,” she said as she signed it off and transferred the authorisation through the system. Her voice stayed calm, unhurried, but there was a firmness under it now. “That’s what I’m clearing you for, and that’s what Lieutenant Prenar will be expecting when you report back.”
The final confirmation chirped softly through the console. Aelira picked up the PADD, checked it once, then handed it over.
“You’re good to return to rotation within those limits,” she said. “Take this to Lieutenant Prenar and he’ll slot you in where you’re useful without being reckless.” A faint hint of warmth touched her expression. “Which, I suspect, will still suit you better than lying around here glaring at my ceiling.”
She stepped back then, giving Amanda room to move.
“And Amanda,” she added, not sharply, but with enough weight to be remembered, “light duty is not a challenge. Don’t make me come and drag you back in here.”
It was close enough to humour to soften the edge, but not enough to mistake the warning for anything else.
"Of course Lieutenant, you'll not see me in her again," Amanda remarked. "Unless I get shot again."
Aelira’s mouth twitched into a smile despite herself.
“Well, if you do get shot again, try to do it somewhere easy to reach,” she said, holding the clearance out to her. “I’d rather not have to come looking for you in a Jeffries tube.”
She gave Amanda a small nod, warmth softening the dry edge of it. “Take that to Lieutenant Prenar, try not to terrify anyone on your first shift back, and keep the heroics down for a few days. Your medical file’s thick enough already.”
Lieutenant Aelira Valan'thir
Chief Medical Officer
Ensign Amanda Turell
Security Officer
[Pnpc Taliserra]
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