Phlox's Perspective:
The Denobulan had re-entered the main part of sickbay to retrieve certain paper work, and to monitor the tests he was running on Mr. Tucker.
But not two steps out of his office and there was the distinct sound of a shoe on liquid. His shoe to be precise, the liquid was clear, bringing it to his nose for a cautious sniff (you couldn't be too careful) confirmed that it was crewman Cutler's most recent experiment, a study she was conducting.
However how it had spilled over the floor was another matter, she knew not to so much as touch it, lest to contaminate the results.
It appeared to-, well it was coming from around the corner actually.
Striding purposefully towards the bend, the physician muttered to himself, Cutler had always been clumsy but it wasn't like her to leave a mess untended. Eyes were lifted from his attempts to avoid stepping in the liquid substance as he reached the turn.
Phlox paused, regarding the sight before him in wide eyed shock as the padd slipped from his fingers, clattering noisily on the wet floor.
Crewman Cutler was strewn on the ground, her arms holding limp over the stream of blood spewing from a wound on her torso.
The horrifying sight was compounded by a gash running down the side of her face, with a trickle of the same red substance dripping to the floor, the white color contrasting in a horrible image.
It took moments, slow, dream-like moments before he snapped out of his shock. At least, enough to realize there was a voice emitting from behind the Commander's curtain.
Phlox gulped, while it was very possible that Mr. Tucker was experiencing hallucinations, and the voice was low enough not to be identified with any certainty, there were serious doubts in his mind that it was the Commander who had assaulted Crewman Cutler.
Eyes trained on the curtained area, Phlox backed towards the comm panel. Looking for any signs of movement or violent actions taking place behind the cloth barrier.
A sudden crunch brought the source of his vigil downwards. He had stepped on a shard of glass, the only remains from the experiment's fateful closure. Fearful eyes snapped back towards the voice, it had stopped, apprehension gripped at the Denobulan's insides, he could only hope his death would be quick and painless. Devoid of the agony that seemed to have been present in the crewman lying dea-.
As the Doctor he was, a self-served mental slap resounded in his ears. She mightn't be dead yet, with shaking digits Phlox reached down to feel her pulse. Having not made much progress towards the comm panel, he was still in close enough proximity to not have to bend so much.
With his hand practically vibrating, Phlox could still feel the beat, weak though it was. She was losing blood fast, immediate medical attention was called for. But-
With a fleeting glance at the covered figures, at where no voices were coming from, the determined resolve he had so counted on to save dozens of patients was completely absent.
Call security, the time difference may very well cost the dying woman's life, but ignore the threat ten feet away from him, and risk not only himself and Mr. Tucker, but everyone aboard the Enterprise.
With time running out, and it getting to the point where neither plan would have a chance of success, he was forced to make a decision…