I once wrote this piece of fan-fiction for the battle-net forums.

Patience vs. Patients – A Medic’s Crisis

“Corporal! Put down that flamer and get your ass over here!” Gale Knighten yelled across the bunker. With his flame thrower still poked out the turret slat, the Firebat looked over his shoulder at the 1^st Lieutenant jabbing his buddy’s suit full of needles. He hesitated. “NOW!” She blared over the radio again. That was a habit from the triage tent of the field hospital - there were no radios there just the din of anarchy that she had to shout over.

The sergeant tapped a corporal on the shoulder, who took over his spot and he squat-ran over to the lieutenant. “Sir?” he asked, but was lost in the gore before him. The medic was trying to stem blood flow from a stump of a leg on some poor ground-pounder caught in the last infested-terran explosion.

“I need you to get on the horn again and try to raise the barracks,” she snarled, frustrated by her losing efforts on the soldiers leg. Dammit, where in Hell are those medical reinforcements? They were supposed to be here ten minutes ago! “Find out what’s holding up those other medics!” The sergeant nodded and pounced on the radio and attacked the controls with the same ferocity he saved for zerglings.

The lieutenant motioned to an idle soldier to take the wounded soldier over to the group waiting for evac from the overdue dropship. She turned to the next man. Too late, he went from the Wounded column to Fatality column while she had struggled with the last one. She slammed the wall with her clenched fist in defeat. Just then there was commotion at the bunker’s entrance.

“Sir! Lieutenant! Medic!” a charred soldier ducked in and shouted in no particular direction. “We need help in the next bunker, stat!”

“Over here,” Gale called, “What’s the situation, son?”

“A scourge downed a dropship, Sir, looks desperate…” Lt. Knighten grabbed her med-pack and the yanked at the sergeant to join her. They jumped out of the bunker with the messenger in tow. The trio sprinted across the open ground while missiles whined over head and the earth shook from siege tanks. They jumped for cover behind the burning remains of a supply depot. The deafening noise from the battle and the roaring flames was too loud for them to even hear inter-suit radios. She turned questioningly to the soldier that came for help and shrugged, her arms out an exaggerated “where?”. The grunt pointed to a bunker at 2 o’clock, one third click ahead. They bolted for it just as a Guardian’s caustic volley finished off the depot behind them.

The three dove into the bunker. It was a tangled mess of bodies, weapons, and blood. Everywhere the lieutenant looked, the wounded were practically stacked. She sighed turned to her sergeant who had resumed trying to contact the barracks thought the comm-center. “Skrew the protocol, Sarge! I need you to patch straight into the emergency channel and directly call up Lt. Radley – she’s in charge of our relief squad. Got that?”

“Copy that, Lieutenant!” the sergeant acknowledged and adjusted the controls of the command radio. In the meantime, Gale went to the downed soldier that looked the worst – so messed up she could not distinguish a face, let alone rank. “Emergency paging, now, Lieutenant...” the sergeant reported. Just then Lieutenant Knighten saw a blinking red light and heard an Emergency Page from the radio inside the shattered helmet of the dying patient in front of her.

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