The admission process moved quickly after Cassandra gave the order.
Too quickly, in Shae’s opinion.
Which, unfortunately, no one asked for.
Medical staff guided her toward an inpatient bay, already pulling up monitors and preparing an IV line.
The atmosphere shifted immediately from “evaluation” to “containment,” and Shae did not appreciate the distinction.
Cassandra stayed right beside her.
Arms crossed.
Expression locked into that calm, authoritative focus that meant she had already mentally escalated this situation three levels beyond what anyone else in the room had.
A nurse approached with a scanner.
“Colonel, we’re going to culture the wound and start labs.” “Good,” Cassandra replied without looking away from Shae.
“Do it now.
I want a full bacterial panel, resistance profile, and inflammatory markers.” The nurse nodded quickly.
“Yes, ma’am.” Another staff member moved in.
Cassandra continued, clinical and precise.
“Check for early systemic spread.
If there’s any indication it’s advancing, I want antibiotics adjusted immediately—not after the lab cycle completes.” Shae watched her, eyebrows lifting slightly.
“You sound like you work here,” she muttered.
Cassandra didn’t even glance at her.
“I did.” “That was a long time ago.” “I haven’t forgotten how to treat incompetence when I see it.” Shae opened her mouth.
Closed it again.
Decided against that argument.
Smart choice.
A swab was taken.
Samples collected.
Monitors attached.
Shae leaned back against the bed with growing irritation.
“This is ridiculous.” Cassandra finally turned her head.
“No.” “Yes.” “No.” Shae exhaled sharply.
“I’m being treated like I’m critically injured.” “You are being treated like you are infected.” “I could still walk.” Cassandra’s eyes flicked down to her leg.
“And yet you are here.” “That’s because you ordered it.” “Correct.” A pause.
Shae tilted her head.
“So I’m basically being punished medically.” Cassandra didn’t hesitate.
“No.” “Feels like it.” “It is called not letting you develop sepsis.” Shae muttered, “Minor difference.” Cassandra ignored her completely.
The nurse finished the culture and stepped away.
Cassandra watched until the sample left the room, then folded her arms again.
“You are staying here until I release you.” Shae narrowed her eyes.
“Okay, but I have a question.” Cassandra sighed.
That was already a bad sign.
“Go ahead.” Shae gestured vaguely toward the room.
“How exactly am I supposed to report to you tomorrow at 0800 if I’m stuck in medical?” Silence.
For half a second, Cassandra just stared at her.
Then she slowly lifted a hand and pinched the bridge of her nose.
Not dramatically.
Not angrily.
But with the exhausted precision of someone trying very hard not to lose professional composure in front of subordinates.
“…Of course you would ask that.” Shae blinked.
“What?” Cassandra exhaled through her nose.
“You are admitted because you are infected.” “I know that.” “And your concern is scheduling.” “Yes.” Cassandra lowered her hand.
Looked directly at her.
Her expression was very calm.
Too calm.
“Major Carter, your concern should be not requiring a second admission in forty-eight hours.” Shae leaned back slightly.
“That’s a separate issue.” “It is not a separate issue.” “It is to me.” Cassandra stepped closer to the bed.
“Let me clarify something for you.” Shae straightened a little.
Cassandra continued, voice even but edged with frustration she was no longer bothering to hide.
“You will not be reporting anywhere tomorrow at 0800 unless I personally clear you for movement.” Shae opened her mouth.
Cassandra raised a finger slightly.
“And before you argue—” Shae closed it again.
Cassandra nodded once.
“Good decision.” A beat passed.
Then Cassandra added, more sharply: “You are not managing your schedule.
You are not managing your injuries.
You are not managing anything related to your own medical status until I say otherwise.” Shae frowned.
“That feels excessive.” Cassandra looked at her.
Flatly.
“You are currently in a hospital bed because you refused to follow instructions about a stab wound you received yesterday.” Shae paused.
“…When you put it like that—” “I will always put it like that.” Shae sighed and dropped her head back against the pillow.
“…Fair.” Cassandra held her gaze a moment longer.
Then stepped back.
Arms crossing again.
“Good.” A pause.
Then, quieter—but no less firm: “And Major?” Shae glanced up.
“Yes?” Cassandra’s eyes narrowed slightly.
“If you even think about leaving this bed without clearance…” Shae immediately raised both hands.
“I’m not moving.” “Good.” Cassandra turned toward the door.
“And try not to make my medical team regret their career choices today.” Shae called after her, dryly: “No promises.” Cassandra stopped at the doorway.
Didn’t turn around.
But her reply came instantly: “That is exactly what I’m afraid of.”