Midnight Rumble

Posted on Sun Jun 22, 2025 @ 1:46pm by Jordan Sinclair

3,686 words; about a 18 minute read

Mission: 1. Trouble Brewing
Location: Icarus Hospital, ER

It was stupid o'clock, early hours of the morning, maybe 2 AM on a Saturday. The start of the weekend, where everyone was drinking their problems away and getting into fights. But the drunks of the night had scuttled home. What replaced? Not vampires or waresolves but the exthused bar stuff dragged by their collars of their shit by managment who couldn't care less about them more than starting a hiring processes.

One who wasn't being dragged into the ER by their boss was the runaway stripper Jordan Sinclair, he was clutching his wrist and wearing an oversized fuzzy grey hoodie, hood down, no shirt underneath (he was planning to fall into bed or any furnahce in his apartment in the Farm) with gym shorts. He didn't transport in; that was only for medical emergencies. In his years of being on the Starbase, he never had to step into the Hospital.

The young gentleman spoke ditzily to the Nurse at the reception, who looked like she had been in a wind tunnel or maybe had a bad hair day. He was asked the issue after she remembered she had a few hours still on the clock, telling her he'd hurted his wrist in work a few days ago, landed on it funny and took painkillers, but after another funny turn in work, it hurted a lot more than it done the first time. After telling her the story, Jordan sat down in the waiting room and took it all in. The mess the ER was in, that is.

‘Dr. Sol.’ Aurelia pinched the bridge of her nose, sighing. She’d just nodded off while glancing at a toxicity report, the continuous overtime and demand of high volume patients was enough to drag her off into an upright sleep. She played off the incident by pretending to rub away a headache, all but shaking herself awake. The nurse in front of her looked about as frazzled as Dr. Sol felt; it was the third consecutive night in a row the ER had been packed nonstop with trivial cases. Within the past 72 hours, she’d work 57. Aurelia narrowed her eyes, noting how it seemed as if her nurse might be on the brink of exhaustion herself.

“Hit me.” Aurelia grinned, leaning back and yawning with a wide stretch. It wasn’t the first time, during the more morbid hours of the night, they’d been known to doze off before due to fatigue. After all, she and her staff were prone to the mortal mistakes, and everyone was pulling overtime recently. The nurse instinctively ran a hand through her hair, as if reading the doctor’s mind, trying to rub expenditure from her eyes. ‘He said: he hurted his wrist.’ She gave that knowing smile.

The blonde nodded, slowly getting to her feet. “Injured wrist. Did we order the right tests?” The nurse nodded, staggering for a brief moment. Aurelia stepped in, grabbing her elbow. “Look. I can wrap a wrist. Sneak off to the laundry closet and grab a warm blanket. Take a fifteen. Set a timer. I can triage and keep an eye on the lobby.” Of course, doctors didn’t typically handle triage, but Dr. Sol had a habit of ensuring she worked just as hard as her staff. And besides… She wasn’t really sure for how long she’d dozed off herself. The nurse sighed, giving an appreciative nod before darting off.

As Aurelia closed the gap from the nurses station to the lobby, she couldn’t help but take in the buzzing lobby. Most ESI levels tonight were in the fours and fives like headaches and flu like symptoms, not at all justifying reasons to open beds. But looking at how busy it was, she might make an amendment. Of course, her newest patient took priority. Stepping over to the nurse’s booth, a tiny area surrounded by fogged glass, she cocked her head. “Sinclair. Booth one please.”

The woman sat, grabbing a nearby PADD. She’d only barely looked up to meet the fresh face of a young man. “Oh! Look at you! Well hello, young man!” A bright smile lit her face. “My nurse tells me you’ve hurt your wrist. Let’s talk about that.” She gestured for the man to sit, scanner in hand. “I know you told her, but I like to listen to stories first hand. While I get your vitals, tell me what you’ve done to help that potential sprain. How long have we had it? Can you rate your pain on a scale of one to ten, ten being the worst.” Though Jordan wouldn’t notice, Aurelia already suspected something worse than a sprain. She was tilting her head, slightly, taking in how the young man held his injury close to him. Given his current attire, she'd guessed he was working out and perhaps took a spill, or maybe fell.

“It takes one heck of a young buck to keep going with an injured wrist! I hear ya hurt it at work. Where do ya work at?” Blue eyes slanted into crescents as she offered her signature disarming grin while getting to know her potential fracture.

Jordan didn't hear his name being called over. "TeLl LaUrEn I lOvE hEr!" being sung by what he presumed to be a drunk outstaying his welcome, it wouldn't be until the ER screens lit up with his name followed by Booth 1. To say he got up in a hurry would be an understatement; he just wanted the guy to stop hearing the ballad of Lauren... Whoever Lauren was, poor Lauren. He tried to follow the signs to booth 1, but when he saw (what he presumed was an ER Nurse) entering the sign "Booth 1", he followed her in.

He sat himself down, purple wrist across his chest, and patted down his hair with his non-hurting hand, the left. While he was being talked too like a horny teenager, he'd had enough of horny men giving him that same treatment but the night was almost over, he just wanted pain meds becauuse the stores had shutted at this point. "Well, I've uh, just been taking painkillers," responding to the 'what have you been doing self-treatment-wise' question in his usual put-on voice that made him out to be stupid. The voice that made people take pity and tip him more.

"It's been going on for a couple of days, 9 maybe? The pain ain't too bad, I'd say 8." Jordan was being modest; it hurt more than the chickenpox his sister gave him when he was 8. "I work at Keith's..." He was sorta turning red, embarrassed to say what he did for work, scared of hurting his manhood, but whatever, maybe he'd get lucky. "..I'm one of the dancers... I fell off the pole a couple of weeks ago... I was meant to dance on the boxes, but that Orion climbed up yesterday and hadn't come down, so I had to take over... Oh, and I ain't killed him and hidden the body neither whatever Shrani says."

As voices began to raise, her eyes fluttered in a mixture of irritation and restraint. Why was it, on the busiest nights, the morons surfaced? She blinked, realizing Mr. Sinclair had been speaking and she’d zoned out for just a moment. “Right. Well. Not to be the nosy nancy of the day, but do you know the dosage and maybe a name? I’d like to make sure, if I give you more medication, I don’t overdose you.” She gazed up at the young man, trying to gauge if he was in fact over medicated or needed more currently.

“Well. We do what we can to make ourselves feel better, don’t we?” She pressed her scanner, angling it forward and reading the fairly stable vitals without much thought. “O2 looks good! You won’t pass out on me! Good. Your bpm is a little high.” She leaned forward a bit with a sly grin. “But listening to Lauren’s tonedeaf lover out there, my bpm is probably high too. When you want to smack the drunk out of someone, that happens sometimes.” She laughed, shaking her head and winking.

She was tapping away at her PADD, taking notes on his answers and recording vitals when he said his current employer. She didn’t even bat an eye. “Oh? Keith’s? I hear they make a mean whiskey sour.” She tapped her nose playfully. “But I try to make those at home. Easier to avoid making a fool of myself when I’ve had a bit too much fun.” She looked up from her work, playful demeanor shifting to a stern observation. “You fell off it a few weeks ago? And you still danced? I wasn’t kidding when I said it takes a heck of a young buck.” She bent her wrist, gesturing to the borderline grapefruit he had now. “I’m a bit of a big baby when it comes to injuries, can’t work past ‘em. And you shouldn't have either.” Aurelia understood that it took moxy in his line of work, and she sure as hell wasn’t going to shame him for making a living. Hopefully, she’d manage to ease any concern he had about sharing his profession.

At his joke, she laughed. “Well. Lucky for you I’m not the Federation. I’m not here to investigate a murder, and I don’t know a Shrani so whatever they want to say is hearsay. You’re here, Mr. Sinclair. I’ll take your word first.” Aurelia winked again, before leaning back in her chair. “That job can be tough. I’m sure it’s far more demanding than my field. It takes character to maintain a good physical appearance, appear alluring, and deal with grabby hands.”

She folded her arms, giving a long inhale before speaking. “I think it’s broken. I could be wrong. If you came here for a refill on oxys, you’re at the wrong ER. Nine days is too long to not see any relief in that swelling and I won't send you out of here like that. I want to scan your wrist, get to the root of the problem, and address it. But, you might miss a day of work.” She gave him an earnest sympathetic smile. “I understand if that is a dealbreaker. I want to work with you, Mr. Sinclair. But I’d like to help you more. Do you think you can work with me? I’ve got a scanner open now, and my nurse should be back any second to hold the fort down. I’ll take you myself so we can get you out of here as quickly as possible.” A golden curl fell in her face as she tilted her head. “I’m afraid if I leave you here long, someone will be pining after you and I can’t deal with another drunk love song.” The doctor laughed, shaking her head and rolling her eyes.

“Please excuse me, Mr. Sinclair. It’s been a long night. I’ve lost a bit of my formality. I assure you, I’ll have you right as rain and fixed up in no time.”

With a shrug of the shoulders, brushing her comments about his work ethic off, he replied. "When rents are this high, you ride anything." He liked the complicit that he worked out, he didn't, not really, practicing throwing himself around a pole when the club was closed was the only source of a physical workout he had done. "I've taken just store-bought painkillers, mostly what's how much said on the side," He said with a smile, answering the question about how many painkillers he'd taken. "With security and the locals policing the joint, the job's good. Just out-of-towners cause issues." As for the drinks? Jordan never ordered anything, nor rarely got a night off, rent was far too high to take a night off.

"I ain't too happy about taking time off, Nurse," Jordan said, still presuming she was an ER Nurse. "But if I can work better than sure, I'm happy to do 'bout anything!"

Aurelia was about to correct the young man, but she didn’t have to. Sluggishly, the triage nurse came out, rubbing her eyes and yawning. ‘Thanks Dr. Sol. I needed that.’ The nurse yawned and extended a hand in the air, relieving the stiffness of her brief sleep.

Dr. Sol smiled, waving a hand absently. “No trouble at all. We all get a little tired sometimes, huh? Well. Since you’re back, I’m going to take this one to the scanner. ESI level 2 if you don’t mind. I have all the triage notes on the PADD, just update him on the biocomp.”

Aurelia straightened before smiling awkwardly at the auburn haired man. “I probably should have introduced myself. I forget to do that when I’m working. Hi, I’m Dr. Sol. Current attending physician at the ER tonight.” She slipped her hands in her white jacket, mimicking his shrug from earlier. “Well. Now that that’s out of the way. I’m going to meet you around this door here, and take you back myself. It won’t take me but a second.”

She paused, gesturing to the metal sliding door. “It’s right around the corner, you can’t miss it.” It was within their vision, even with the fogged glass but she didn’t want him to mistake her. The Doctor was already forming a treatment plan in her mind, planning on the medication she’d administer after the scan. With a brief wave, she began to meander to the other side of the door, using her badge to open it.

Jordan just wanted to be home, but the hours off were starting to appeal to him. He followed Dr Sol's navigation to the letter, and sure enough, the glass shutter was in eyesight. "How much longer?" He asked, sounding like a spoiled child. Thankfully, he caught how he sounded and quickly corrected himself. "It's just been a long night, and I still think I got credits in places that shouldn't be."

Aurelia didn’t answer him, not immediately. She gestured for him to follow her, past a buzzing station of busy nurses. His question encouraged her pace, the brisk walk that imprinted on any medical student taking over. The scanner room was tucked in a corner, matching doors to the left and right of it.

Only until she was in front of it, did she answer. “I’ll try to be as fast as I can. Once again, Mr. Sinclair. My goal isn’t to inhibit you. It’s to get you back to where you need to be. Which includes getting you back to work.” It wasn’t her first patient that needed speedy treatment, a life of debt and hardship trailing them.

“Scanner results are quick and depending on the degree of injury, it might be as quick as getting you a splint, for a few weeks, and asking you to come back for physical therapy. Or surgery. It just depends.” As she scanned her badge once more, the airlock doors hissed. “One step at a time. I’m going to have you roll your sleeve up and scan you.” Dr. Sol hadn’t bothered to turn around yet, afraid she’d meet the man’s face with a sympathetic smile that might give way to an accidental insult.

Jordan took his hoodie off and tied it around his waist, thinking the rolled-up sleeve would just unroll itself. The thought of surgery was scary, something he didn't want. "S-surgery? I hope you haven't jinxed me." Jordan wasn't superstitious but after this weeks worth of work, a lot of jinxes had happened... Either jinxes or really bad luck.

The doctor chuckled, waving a dismissive hand. “Oh, no, Mr. Sinclair. Unless a giant Hengrauggi stomped on your wrist, this would rank among the most invasive procedures we've ever done.” She turned to leave, then paused mid-step, eyeing him with a grin. “Came prepared, did you?”

A soft laugh escaped her, light and easy, filling the room. For a moment, she considered offering him a gown—some gesture of dignity—but it would cost time, and it was obvious this young man was in a hurry to get things over with.

“Well then, let’s get to it.” Aurelia strode over to the treatment table and gave it a pat, motioning for him to sit. Spotting his bare chest, she quickly reached for the scanner. Dr. Sol was notorious for keeping her exam rooms icy, and she worried her young friend might already be half-frozen.

Jordan was so tired that he had forgotten he wasn't wearing anything under his hoodie. He was sort of embarrassed when the Doctor brought it up, turning red. "Oh uh.. Sorry for the strip tease," He apologized. "The temp is fine," he said as she was heading for the thermostat. "I dunno the Hengrauggi aliens, but I've had 'encounters' with Kelpiens and Gorns before." Encounters was putting it mildly, he was hiding the fact that every time a member of those races entered, they had the worst cat-calling names for the dancers, including Jordan.

The doctor waved a hand. It wasn't her first time seeing human skin, and it wouldn't be the last. "No worries." She rolled her tongue, trying to hold back a chuckle at his insistence the temperature was fine. She wasn't going to adjust the temperature, heat made germs spread and she wasn't too keen on starting an accidental epidemic. "Right. Well, that's good! Glad to know you won't freeze to death." She gingerly reached out to cup his wrist.

"I should have specified. This is a tricorder, a magical little device that only seems to get smarter as the years go by." She cleared her throat, eyes darting to his injury. "It'll tell me if your wrist here is broken, and what treat plan would best suit your injury. Is it alright if I-" Her hand grazed his forearm, fingers waiting patiently for consent before they'd move to spider to his wrist. "I just need to hold it for a second." She didn't dwell on his comment about previous encounters, not wanting the young man to relive any discomfort while in her care.

The 2340s brought about lots of new tech. Jordan enjoyed the food replicators that were installed in the bar, far better than what the chefs cooked in the back. "Uh, sure, go... do what you have to do," He gave her a reassuring smile, despite the fact that he was uneasy, he'd would of liked the facts on this 'tricorder'. "Been a quiet day?" He asked trying to make small talk.

The Doctor offered a soft smile in return, her touch featherlight as her fingers crept gently down to cradle his wrist. The warmth of his skin under her hand was familiar—not personally, but in the way all patients eventually became. People under stress, pain, or fear had a similar tension that pulsed through their muscles like undercurrents.
“Depends on someone’s definition of quiet,” she mused, her tone barely above a whisper, letting her focus drift momentarily to the tricorder in her other hand. It whizzed softly to life, casting a faint blue glow as she angled it over his arm. “I’ve come to realize that an ER is like an ocean. The Tide rises, and so does the calamity, before it washes out.”

The scan began, and she watched the display flicker with data, her brow furrowing ever so slightly as it compiled results.
“Not broken,” she murmured after a beat, the smallest trace of relief slipping into her voice. “But it is a deep tissue sprain. Ligaments are inflamed. Likely from a sharp twist or fall. Which means…” Cyan eyes swept up to meet his gaze.

“You’re lucky. It’s not serious, but it’ll hurt like hell for a few days if you push it.”
Aurelia released his wrist slowly, deliberately, as if to silently reassure him that he was still in control. The blonde had a way about her, ensuring she treated all of her patients with the respect they deserved while trying to ease any unease they might have carried. She returned the tricorder to its cradle among the wall-mounted tech, then folded her arms with a casual ease, eyes still on him.

“So—Jordan. Here’s where we’re at.” Her voice was calm, clinical, but gentle. “You’ve got two options. One: head back to work and risk aggravating the injury. Given what you’ve told me, that’s a real possibility.”
She let that settle a moment before continuing.
“Or two: we wrap it now, quick and easy. I can prescribe something mild for the pain and swelling. And if you stay off the—” She paused, catching herself mid-thought. Definitely not the time to say ‘stay off the pole,’ she scolded silently, her lips twitching with a trace of amusement. “—If you stay off that wrist and avoid any strain, it should be back to normal in a few days.”

Aurelia tilted her head, watching him for a hint of where he was leaning. “Your call. I’ll back whatever you decide. But you only get so many hands.” She unfolded her arms, playfully flashing her hands. “It’s up to you to take care of them.”


You could see Jordan tense up. Rent was incredibly high, that wasn't adding in groceries and hobbies, the full pay he was legally entitled to wouldn't pay all that, the tips usually did. "Option two. Please," He replied gormlessly, putting his oversized hoodie back on. "These drugs. They're not like addictive, are they?" He asked because if they were, he could sell them and make a little extra on the side while he healed.

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