"Is he going to die?" Major Starkey asked quietly as she continued to hold the Colonel's head back. It was surprising how heavy his head actually was. She didn't realise that heads were so heavy.

"I hope not," Captain Jack continued to monitor him. "Oxygen; that is what we need, is there any oxygen down here?" he asked her. "We need some oxygen."

"Don't worry, Jack, I've got some here."

"Martha." Jack breathed a sigh of relief as he heard her arrive behind him. She must have been able to leave the East Wing. "You got my note?"

"Yes, but no kisses?" Martha complained in good humour.

"If you were not available I asked Private Moore to give it to Gerald," Jack offered.

"And, when would that normally have stopped you?" Martha knelt down next to him to start checking out the Colonel. She had her stethoscope on and she listened to his chest and his breathing to make sure he was as stable as he could be even with the blood loss. She tried to calm everyone, including herself, down with a bit of Captain Jack baiting, but it was clear that the Colonel was becoming more urgent. It was to be expected, but she had not been able to tend to him without leaving someone else. All of the P1 patients were now either stabilised, with a competent team attempting to stabilise, or had not made it.

"He lost consciousness about three minutes ago. Adequate pressure had not been applied to halt the bleeding and the pad was saturated." Jack indicated toward the pad he'd removed from the wound. "His radial pulse is still present but it is weakened and thread, so he has lost a fair bit of blood now," Jack advised. "I didn't want to lie him down because of his injury. I assumed that is why you left him sitting and did not lie him down before leaving him?"

"Yes, I want to stabilise him before I move him, and, if he was lying down then he would have been more likely to move around too much himself," Martha commented. "I don't want to tweak his femoral artery," Martha explained. She put an oxygen mask over the Colonel's nose and mouth and tightened the elastic around his head so that it didn't come free. "Colonel, I'm going to put a canola into your arm," Martha warned him in case he could hear her. She cut up the sleeve of his shirt. He was not going to be happy that she was hacking up his uniform, but he'd be able to get another supplied well before he was fit for duty again. She'd get him in a UNIT tracksuit once he was stable so he felt comfortable and was decent, but for now she needed to gain access to his arm and she was not going to attempt to undress him, so it was her trusty scissors that did the work. She struggled to get a vein in his arm because of the blood loss, but she managed on her second attempt and got the canola in. She attached a pouch of a milky substrate. "Major, can you hold this higher than his head please."

"What is this?" Major Starkey asked as she took the pouch and followed Martha's instructions.

"Its plasma and some other bits and pieces. It's basically a non-specific blood substitute. The Colonel has a rare blood group so we'd have a short supply of what he needs anyway, but this is easier than using actual blood and it is a little more effective in the short term. It will give him a boost. His blood loss isn't that critical yet. I think the pain of his injury is also a fair reason why he's blacked out," Martha commented. "So, we're going to give him a decent shot of morphine as well. It won't alleviate the pain totally, but it will make him more comfortable until we get him properly stabilised and then can concentrate on getting him more comfortable, but morphine is a standard starting place and a powerful pain reliever and relaxant."

"So, don't listen to any of his orders," Jack commented and smiled.

"Actually, the Colonel remains remarkably clear headed when on medications," Martha offered.

"And when he drinks alcohol," Major Starkey added.

"He's not likely to be doing that for a while, nor, will he be giving orders," Martha commented. She got a wide piece of thick black elastic. It was ten inches wide, three foot long, and very strong weave and tough. "Help me with this, Jack?" Martha passed it around the Colonel. It went around his back. "We need to get it right under him if you can? It needs to be down over his hips, but try not to wriggle him at all, just ease it under him," Martha instructed. They got the wide belt around him. Martha crossed it over him at the front so it overlapped him. There were four Velcro straps and she hooked them through metal retainers and then pulled them tight to fasten them. As she pulled on them the Colonel moaned.

Jack made sure that the dressing was still in place so only just got his fingers out of the way in time as the belt held that tight too. It was a pelvic support so would apply an even pressure to hold him together when they moved him if his hip or his pelvis were broken. They bruising he had seen suggested that it was a strong possibility and if it wasn't broken then it was still going to be pretty sore.

"Right, now we can get him lying down," Martha instructed and waved two other medics in. They carefully got the colonel so he was lying flat on his back on a hard plastic spinal board ready to lift him onto a gurney and transport him into medical. He moaned as he moved him. When he was flat he turned his head slightly to the left and then to the right as he started to come round again fairly quickly as the blood flowed back to his head again.

"Alan?" Martha stopped for a moment to see if he was going to be coherent so she could make sure he knew what was happening. "Can you hear me?"

"Martha."

"Hello, just relax, I've given you some morphine and we're going to put a splint on your leg to make it more comfortable and then we're going to get you up to the East Wing and see what is going on with you, alright? How are you feeling?"

"Dizzy."

"That is because you have bled all over my floor, but I'm giving you a top up of the substitute. It will help bring your blood pressure back up again," Martha assured him. "I'm going to sort out your leg now. It is going to hurt, but only while we do it. It will feel better once we have," Martha commented.

"Are you going to use a traction splint on him?" Jack checked when he saw the metal frame with straps across it along the full length. Martha nodded as she started to cut right up his trouser leg so that they weren't going to be putting it on over his clothing. She bared him right up to the bottom of the pelvic belt where the fabric had already been cut away because of the wound. With his leg visible it was plain to see that there was a definite rotation at his hip joint. "His hip has gone hasn't it?" Jack commented.

"Yeah," Martha confirmed. "It is out of socket, whether there are fractures there as well, I don't know. We have to act as though there are. If I didn't know he'd been hit by that ghost thing I'd say he'd been hit by a car," Martha announced. "I'm going to control the movement of his leg. Jack, can you tighten the pelvic belt again as soon as his leg is flat. Arthur? Get the splint ready so I can unwind his leg into it," Martha instructed. "Major, I need you to make sure he has a hand to hold. It is going to hurt him even with the morphine, but it won't last."

Everyone took their places. "Alan, I'm going to do it now. Take a deep breath," she instructed. She held his leg just above his knee and got a good grip of it while a nurse took the actual weight of his lower leg. She lifted his knee so it was not splayed out to the side. Martha was slow, making sure there was no resistance coming from his hip joint as she did it. The Colonel started with a moan, but by the time Martha had lowered his leg so it was straight down beside his other it had escalated into a full cry. Jack used the Velcro straps to readjust the pelvic belt so it applied pressure right over his hips. Martha put his leg down into the traction splint. A strap was passed around his lower back where the outside slide of the metal splint was secure. It was a wide strap and was just used to anchor and stabilise the splint. They fastened straps over his leg and right down to his foot where Martha removed his boot.

They then loosened some nuts in the frame and pulled it so that it was longer. His leg was stretched inside it applying a lengthening traction to his leg through his hip and his thigh. The Colonel cried out as they did it, but when it was locked off his leg and hip were totally still and secure.

"That is it, Alan, we're done," Martha assured the Colonel. "Just take deep breaths and relax. We will get you back into the East Wing."

"You're going to be okay, Sir," Jack assured the Colonel as well. He did so a little louder than Martha had as her intention had been to solely provide the man himself assurances and comfort. Jack wanted his fallen comrades to hear it as well. For them the concern for their Commander and Chief would weigh heavily on them as they also waited for some attention. They would certainly not begrudge it to their commander, but they would not like to hear him crying out as he had done. Within the heart of UNIT as with any other institution or establishment they were people and a family. They lived together, trained together, worked together, fought together, and they knew that someday they might die together. At the head of that family was the base commander and that was Colonel Mace.

Jack knew not to underestimate the emotional power that Mace held, especially since he was not only the base commander but also well liked. It was quite rare to command the respect and the authority of a group of me so young and troubled after previous incursions onto Earth with compassion rather than authoritarianism. Mace joining a battle would bring a hundred additional soldiers as those involved already would step up that bit more. To lose a commander in battle could literally be the turning point and lead from victory to the most catastrophic of defeats as the men lost not only their direction but someone they looked up to and it was as if they were losing a part of themselves. For a base commander to be injured, to be laid out crying in pain whilst being tended to in the field of battle, especially one which was unexpected and within their own heart? It would be hard for the men and women who he commanded to see him taken out and vulnerable. It would be to them like seeing the Doctor so badly hurt was to him. That little inch they stood taller in his company was lost with a deflation of the spirit, and for those wounded with him it would see like their own fate would rest with the Colonels.

"Alright, we're secured and ready to go," Martha advised as she fastened a strap over the Colonel. Not because the road to the East Wing was bumpy, but because if they passed anything untoward she didn't want the Colonel to try to sit up. Until his blood pressure was up properly there was a chance he would faint again and she did not want him to aggravate his injuries. His femoral artery remained in danger.

The East Wing had turned into something that looked like a scene from a budget disaster movie. All the medics on duty were not there as far as Martha could see and several that had been off duty but on base were starting to arrive and were being booked in and put into teams by Gerald as part of the triage process. It would not be long until the handful of medics that were off base started to arrive as well as a full all available hands had been broadcast through control to all of the medics and the military staff, so that they had personnel both to manage the influx of injured and to replace them in the field.

Gerald had teamed up with three of the paramedics including Yasser and Stan in the triage area and they were taking care of the emergency first aid for the walking wounded and ensuring that a couple more seriously injured remained stable while waiting for a team of medics to come free. They were the soldiers who had managed to turn up as walking wounded but probably should never have made it. News that the Colonel had been injured had travelled to most corners of the base now, and there was a high level of concern for him. The seven cots had been increased to twelve with them being pushed even closer together. All of them were occupied by people waiting for attention in the area where the pool table had been. The pool table had been pushed to the side and was stacked with bandages and other medical supplies.

"How are we doing for space?" Martha asked. Several patients had been moved in while she was dealing with the Colonel. "Is there a side room still available?" She didn't want the Colonel to be gawped at by his men while he was receiving treatment and she didn't want the men to be too worried about the Colonel if they caused him pain whilst treating him. There were four side rooms in the East Wing which were designed to hold the four patients that was the normal maximum in the area. The board that showed who had been booked into the East Wing showed that room 3 was still vacant, but when Martha went in there two beds had been pushed in and both were occupied.

"Who is managing the board?" Martha asked as she came out, frustrated that the information was not only one patient out but two.

"Um… me, I am," Naomi advised as she came out from behind a screen that had been put up to separate an area for triage treatment. She had a handful of bloody bandages in one hand, looking for a new yellow bin to dispose of them. In her other hand she had a medication chart that was being set up for the patient she had been dealing with. She was obviously multi-tasking to the extreme. There were more patients needing initial treatment than there were medical teams.

Okay, don't worry." Martha certainly wasn't going to have a go with her about that. "Leyton, come over here," she called a Corporal over. He was in the area but he didn't seem to be one of the wounded. "Are you injured?"

"No ma'am, I'm sorry. I brought Carl in," he commented and indicated toward a closed door. "He was bad ma'am."

"Okay," Martha nodded. "While we wait for news would you be able to do something for me?" she checked.

"Is that the Colonel?!" Leighton was shocked when he saw who it was on the gurney that Martha was trying to find a spot for. He stood to attention and saluted.

"I don't think it is time for formalities just now. I need you to check to see who he has been injured and put their details and location up here on the board. There is only room for four names usually, but it is a white board marker so just extend it up onto the actual wall," Martha instructed. I need to know who is in here, whether they are classed as P1, P2, or P3, where they are currently located, and who their primary medic is."

"Okay," Leighton commented. "Task and roll?" he checked confirming he understood what he was doing.

"That is it," Martha was familiar with the military side.

"Do you want me to update as it changes?"

"Yes, but no ranks go up in here, so, you can start with A Mace, P2, I'll be his primary medic, and I'm still trying to find out where I can locate him," Martha offered.

"We need somewhere out of view," Jack commented as there were plenty of people realising that the Colonel had been brought in. He didn't need to have to try to be base commander, he had to be allowed to relax and to accept that he was hurt, but still to be able to contribute to the safety and well-being of his base and even if he was able.

"I've nowhere," Martha commented. "Even the rooms are doubled up."

"Well, give me a moment," Jack stated. He went into the Doctor's room.

"Jack, you were ages! I thought you might have been killed, you've not been killed have you?" the Doctor checked with him.

"No, avoided that so far," Jack offered.

"Is everything alright? Where is the Harlequin Ghost?"

"It has bolted."

"Bolted?" the Doctor puzzled. "That doesn't make much sense."

"They got it in the head wound and it ran. It's holed itself up so it's quiet just now. It's giving them time to bring the wounded back in here for treatment and to restock, regroup, and reload. There are a lot of wounded," Jack commented.

"They are lucky only to have been injured."

"I know, but, listen. They have run out of private space, and well, Colonel Mace has been hurt. It would not be fair on anyone for him to be put in the main triage area to wait, or for him to be in a corridor, or for someone already settled in a room to be kicked out. He is not going to be able to relax if he is out there in the mix with his men."

"Is he conscious?" the Doctor asked.

"Yes."

"Then he should come in here," the Doctor announced not realising that was what Jack was hinting at. "If you shift my bed over further toward the wall then another can be brought in, and, if he is conscious then he can provide tactical information about the troops and the base," the Doctor advised. "If Martha lets him. How badly is he injured?"

"Are you sure you want him in here? I know you don't always see eye to eye. If he is going to stress you out and stop you from relaxing?" Jack checked.

"Get him in here, Jack, if the man has been hurt by the Harlequin then he is going to need attention."

"It looks like it has broken his hip and pelvis and he's got a massive jagged wound," Jack advised.

"Humans are so fragile," the Doctor commented.

"Ahem?" Wilfred pointed to the Doctor's cast leg. "Pot? Kettle? Black? Colonel Mace has been injured fighting against a killer hostile alien that you have described as death and has single handed broken through bullet proof glass, metal shutters, and taken out several units of armed soldiers so by all accounts quite a formidable enemy, and you? You fell off a ladder?" Wilf reminded the Doctor making Jack laugh and the Doctor pout momentarily.

"I could go off you, you know?" the Doctor commented, but then laughed as Wilf rubbed his shoulder. They shifted his bed over a foot so they had room to get both beds into the room and still be able to walk around them on both sides so that they had access to treat either one of them as needed. It was tight and in close quarters, but it was certainly possible. Jack went back out.

"The Doctor has invited the Colonel to remain in his room until somewhere more practical becomes available," Jack offered. "We have shifted his bed over and there is room."

"The Doctor?" Mace asked and the moaned quietly into the oxygen mask making it cloud up. "I'll need… more morphine… for the headache," the Colonel complained and Martha laughed as she pushed him into the room. It was only when the gurney was being pushed in that the Doctor realised what he'd just said. Colonel Mace in the same room as him? Maybe it wasn't such a good idea after all. He couldn't back out now though could he? Not when the Colonel was being pushed into the room on a gurney and looked to be pretty seriously hurt with a drip in his arm and an oxygen mask over his nose and mouth.

"Colonel," the Doctor offered a bit awkwardly.

"Doctor," the Colonel sounded equally as uncomfortable. Martha chuckled slightly as she positioned Mace's bed next to the Doctor's and put the brakes on both of them just in case.