taxonomites | 006 ¤ [Visual | Location: Enterprise Sickbay]

Entry tags:

006 ¤ [Visual | Location: Enterprise Sickbay]

McCoy rarely looked content with the world; his face would be forever contorted into its permanent frown of disappointment or exasperation at whatever the situation at hand was. Better than him smiling all the time and making people suspicious.

What was the theme for his bad temper today? Well, it was Taxon, as usual. It seemed he could not walk down the street without injuring himself or the powers that be were plucking more people that, in loose terms, were at the very least associated with Starfleet rather than being apart of their crew.

It became more frustrating the longer he was here. With nothing better to do, he began looking over the medical reports he had conducted since arriving in Taxon while he sat in Sickbay... or in his CMO office, to be more precise. And not because he was ordered to.

"Just a piece of home," He announced to no one in particular, as he abandoned the reports and swivelled his chair opposite the visual feed and got to his feet before disappearing towards a futuristic looking cabinet that contained his collection of drinks, and punched a number into the console. The hiss that announced the code was correct was swiftly followed by a sigh... or perhaps a growl of infuriation from the doctor. "... that I need to change the codes for."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

Christine hadn't been doing much since she'd come to Taxon. A lot of trying to figure out how things worked and alienating herself in the lab to do a bunch of nothing. And it had finally sunk in that they might not be going home any time soon. When things were out of her hands she didn't react well unless she could be working. Here, there wasn't much to do and in a small stupor she didn't want to be social.

But today was slightly different. She wanted to try to figure out things and had actually decided to explore the rest of the ship. After that she might go out and do some other walking around. Entering the sickbay, she fiddled around with some stuff before she heard an all too familiar voice.

"Dr. McCoy?" she called out, rounding a corner slowly and peeking into his office. "Is everything alright?"

Doctor McCoy. [Spock is as matter-of-fact and perfunctory as ever when he uses the tablet to address Bones.] I require medical assistance.

OOC: I'm not sure where this post fits in the chronology of Halloween and the Hulk attack, but it seemed easier to tag in here than make a brand new post of my own. Just let me know if that needs to change!

Hm? What's wrong with you?

OOC: Sorry, this was after it. It's fine we can assume Bones was out of commission until this post.

Elsewhere on the Enterprise, one James T. Kirk was nursing a glass of Georgia Moon corn whiskey that isn't from a jar that's been hatched. He nearly chokes on the drink when he sees Bones on the tablet discovering that he'd gotten into his private collection. Coughing a bit, he makes sure to push the glass and jar out of view before turning on the feed on his end of the tablet, putting on his best innocent face as he asks, "Missing something?"

I was injured during a confrontation with a currently unidentified creature.

OOC: I guessed as much, but I thought I'd check.

McCoy looked away from the cabinet and other to the blonde who had entered Sickbay. He looked surprised to see her in the medical bay of the Enterprise that had been hauled along after him, but nonetheless grumbled before closing it again and walking back over to his seat, "Everything is fine, Nurse."

Only he was one bottle of Georgia Moon corn whiskey down, but it was not the end of the world. He knew who was responsible for it and would make him pay dearly for it next time.

Unidentified creature... don't tell me, it looked like a big, angry Orion with fists the size of your thickhead?

Chris's brows furrowed together and she huffed, straightening herself up. She rested her hands on her hips and stared at him with a set jaw. "Dr. McCoy, you can't lie to save your life when it comes to how you feel, can you?"

McCoy is not fooled by his innocent enquiry over the tablet and glowers at his best friend once he seizes his tablet. Not shake it though; no, he would have a perfect incentive to shake it later once Kirk would exclaim some wry quip and infuriate him.

"You know what," He replied evenly, "last time it was my Chateau Picard. And before that it was my Mint Julep."

I did not have the opportunity to measure the diameter of the creature's fists. The rest of your description, however, is accurate.

Goddamn it... where are you?

I am in my quarters in the Sanctuary.

I don't usually do house calls, Spock. I'll be willing to make an exception this time... wait while I catch one of those trams.

And I do not make a habit of requesting them, Doctor.

I will await your arrival.

Of course.

[Switches off his tablet and leaves the Sickbay for Sanctuary.]

It had been somewhat difficult for Spock to return to his quarters after his encounter with the creature on the streets of Taxon. Though his wounds - largely cuts and bruises, though he suspected that he also had a number of bruised or broken ribs - were not immediately life threatening, they were uncomfortable. He had contacted Doctor McCoy as soon as the opportunity had presented itself.

Spock waited patiently for him to arrive, remaining as immobile as possible on the bed. He did not wish to aggravate his injuries before receiving treatment for them. Though he and Doctor McCoy argued frequently, he had faith in the CMO's medical skills and his knowledge of xenobiology.

While Spock had retreated to his quarters in the Sanctuary For All after encountering that pumped-up Orion on the streets, his evening had ended a little differently in comparison; not that he could actually recall much of Halloween anymore after being knocked out and regaining consciousness back on the Enterprise with an almighty headache and a Captain looking somewhat frazzled.

Figures Spock would have waited until he was back on duty before he finally relented and told him he was injured by the same thing that had smacked him around. Stupid, thickheaded Vulcan. It did not take McCoy long to make it to the Sanctuary without the aid of a transporter. No, he would not use one of those things, not since Kirk had beamed him back to the Enterprise without his consent.

"Spock?" He knocked on the door of the room he knew belonged to that hobgoblin crewmate of his, deciding to give the Vulcan a moment, before pushing the door open and walking into the room with his medical kit tucked under one arm.

"I don't know what you're talking about, Bones."

Kirk did his best to feign innocence, but knew well that he'd only be able to keep this up for so long. There were only two people able to override the codes to that cabinet and it was highly unlikely that Spock would want a glass of Georgia Moon. Alcohol did nothing for Vulcans and he was pretty sure getting blitzed fell under the category of highly illogical anyway.

"Lying is very unbecoming become of you, Princess." McCoy retorted impatiently, getting to his feet as he remarked this and made a beeline for the doors of Sickbay, intent of finding his missing corn whiskey and the person responsible for stealing it from his cabinet. Of course, he picked up his tablet as he moved and stared into it.

"You're due for a medical examination. I wonder what your BAC will read as if I conduct it today."

Edited 2009-11-12 14:13 (UTC)

Kirk couldn't help but line face at the tablet screen as Bones uttered thsoe words and left sickbay. Had this been the actual Enterprise, Bones would've had to go across and up a few decks before he got to the bridge; as it were, here in Taxon, the bridge was only right down the hall.

So, Kirk promptly shut his tablet off and left the Georgia Moon on his desk in his ready room, instead seizing an unopened bottle of blood wine. Popping the thing open, he took a long swig and stepped out onto the bridge with the bottle in hand, just in time to catch Bones stepping through the automatic doors.

"Blood wine, sorry," he said, shaking the bottle at his best friend. "Replicated it myself."

McCoy was also line faced as he walked onto the bridge and stared at the bottle being shaken at him from across the room. He slipped the tablet into his back pocket and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Oh, really." He replied sardonically and eyed the blood wine with a less than affectionate glance. "That's one hell of an interesting stain on your uniform there, Jim. I thought you could handle your drink better than that; at least, you can when you're not pretending."

Kirk looked down at his shirt. "Aw, shit!" He hadn't meant to do that. Crap. At least wearing a black t-shirt meant that it wouldn't show once it dried.

"Am I that obvious?"

"I am here, Doctor," said Spock. Though he knew that Doctor McCoy was already aware of his presence - a hypothesis that was confirmed when he entered without awaiting further instructions - the half Vulcan also knew that some sort of response was required when such a question was asked.

He turned his gaze to Bones without moving from his position on the bed. Spock was sitting up and, although it was not a comfortable position to be in, he did not believe that any of the alternatives were acceptable either. His current physical state was not conductive to comfort.

"Painfully."

McCoy answered as he crossed the bridge and to the ready room where – with any hope – there would be some of his corn whiskey left for him to repossess for himself. Seems that he was optimistic today.

As always, his crewmate wore that ever-impassive mask on his face as he walked into the room which could probably be interpreted a good sign. It was a damn sight better than dealing with a giggling, hallucinating Spock.

But seeing the Half-Vulcan sitting more stiffly than ever on the bed while waiting for him made him frown regardless. If he was injured, why the hell wasn't he laying down? Deciding to save the lecture for a more appropriate time into the medical examiation, he rooted through his medkit and took out the medical tricorder, before scanning him.

"Where does it hurt the most?" He asked Spock, eyes barely glancing up from the screen of the tricorder, as the scanner hummed and whirled to life.

"My ribcage," answered Spock, unable to interpret the frown successfully and choosing to appreciate the doctor's professional behaviour instead. He did not have the energy or the inclination for a verbal sparring match at this particular point in time, though when he recovered he was certain that their relationship would return to it's usual equilibrium.

McCoy raised an eyebrow at the clipped and terse reply and saw that the readings brought up as much and internal bruising from where the creature smashed his crewmate around.

"I thought you Vulcans could use some form of self-hypnosis to heal yourself." He murmured conversationally, although it was easy to pick up the cynicism behind that statement as he ceased in scanning the Commander. "Or is that just the whole mysticism?"

"You are correct, Doctor," Spock replied. He had picked up skepticism in McCoy's voice, and responded both to allay it and to give himself something else to focus on. Though the half Vulcan was capable of ignoring his pain - of controlling it as he did his emotions - it was a source of discomfort.

"However, it requires a great deal of practice and it is not advisable to attempt the process if you do not have a physician at your side to assist you in waking."

He raised an eyebrow. "I guess I can’t." He admitted, sounding a little sheepish, although there was a tremor of surprise there.

"Well, what do you know?" McCoy started almost conversationally as he lowered his tricorder and gave the half-Vulcan a look. "You're not so invulnerable, after all but it looks like you at least had God's luck on your side, Mister Spock. After a session of bone-knitting surgery and a whirl from the neural modulator, you should be back to your old infuriating self in no time."

He continued to go on as he looked back to his medkit. "I can administer a sedative, unless you want to grit your teeth. Looks like you've been doing a good job of that."

There was no use stopping Bones now that he'd given himself away as the culprit who took the whiskey from the doctor's cabinet. Like it would've been anyone else but him, but it was less fun owning up to it right off the bat.

He followed the older man into his ready room, where the jar of Georgia Moon was still sitting on the desk with the half-full glass he'd poured for himself earlier. "See? It's still mostly intact."

"I knew it." McCoy did not care if it was mostly intact, that was his jar of Georgia Moon, in all its unreplicated glory. He whirled around on his foot and raised his finger at his Captain as his face twisted in frustration. "You damned.. felon."

"I can only assume that your question is rhetorical," said Spock archly, raising an eyebrow. "And that you do not require me to recite my credentials."

He nodded in response to the doctor's diagnosis, pleased - for want of a better word - that his current condition would not leave him incapacitated for a prolonged period of time. Although there was no longer any sign of the creature he had fought, life in Taxon could be most unpredictable. There was no way for him to anticipate what would happen next, and he would prefer to meet it with a high level of fitness.

"I am capable of withstanding the physical pain, doctor."

"No, I really don't."

McCoy rolled his eyes and grumbled something under his breath that sounded suspiciously related to hobgoblins as he administered the sedative to his Vulcan crewmate. Withstanding physical pain, he wished Jim would learn self-discipline like that instead of spitting hairs and cursing blindly at him whenever he took out his hypospray.

Kirk rolled his eyes at the finger and Bones' irritation. "Your code for that is the same one you used for your locker in the medical building. And I didn't drink that much of it. See? Just a few sips before you caught me, which is considerably faster than last time. I had half the bottle of that Picard down before you discovered it was missing."

"That's a blatant misuse of command, Jim." McCoy growled at his Captain before stepping over to the desk and snatching up the sullied jar of Georgia Moon. Was this all a childish overreaction? Most probably. But God help him, he would rant about this until he was blue in the face.

"You'll be laughing on the other side of your face when you steal the one spiked with benzodiazepine." He continued threateningly, "Let's see how well those codes you know will help when you're drooling on the floor."

"It's not a misuse of command. I didn't even have to use my override codes to get in. I used your codes."

Maybe he was also being a bit immature about it in acting so casual about the whole thing, but it was only natural for him to react this way when Bones was in one of his rant at the world moods.

McCoy glared at him:

"Get your own."

Spock elected to ignore the comment. It had been loud enough for him to hear and low enough for him to hypothesize that he was not supposed to hear it, and he had no desire to distract the doctor with further discourse while the he was being treated.

He remained impassive and still as the sedative was administered.

"I have not yet completed a full report on the incident for the captain," he noted, "I trust that you have apprised him of your own experience with the creature?"

Learn to share, he wanted to say, but Kirk knew how far he could push Bones before he crossed a line and knew that if he said that, he'd be stepping over a line he was already teetering on. Why he enjoyed playing with that line, he'd never know. Messing with Bones was just too fun sometimes and it was one of the few areas where he could still act like a kid without the worry of responsibility.

"Maybe I will."

"Nothing official as of yet." McCoy replied, thinking back to the morning after encountering the Hulk beating a building after being startled by the tram he was riding on. "I told him that a overgrown, upset orion was flailing around and it's thick skin broke my hypospray when I tried to sedate it. I don't remember much after that."

He was expecting his best friend to keep on pushing and acting flippantly over the matter of drinks, "... Wonders will never cease." he muttered and screwed the top back onto his Georgia Moon rather forlornly.

An informal report was preferable to no report at all, at least, and Spock suspected that Captain Kirk would be more inclined to respond through unofficial channels during their time in Taxon. It was difficult to follow Starfleet protocol to the letter when Starfleet was, by all accounts, both spatially and temporally distant.

"I was not aware that there were any male Orions in residency. It is likely that a resident with a different planetary origin was affected by a 'glitch'."

"Oh, right." McCoy started a little tersely. "Next time, I'll make sure just tell the Captain a large, green, possibly glitched alien with yellow eyes gave me a headache the size of Risa and cracked some of your thick ribs. If Starfleet was here, I'd be thrown into the Federation funny farm for sure."

McCoy could rant about anything, including this.

"The essentials are correct," Spock answered, "But I would suggest phrasing your report a little differently."

McCoy could rant about anything, and, in all likelihood, Spock could reply to anything with maddening logic.

"Our stories will be subjected to a full psychological analysis when we are returned to our own world."

Threaded | Top-Level Comments Only

006 ¤ [Visual | Location: Enterprise Sickbay]

[Location - Enterprise Sickbay]

[Voice]

[Voice]

[ visual ]

no subject

[Location - Enterprise Sickbay]

no subject

[Location - Enterprise Sickbay]

[ visual ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

[Location: the Sanctuary]

no subject

[ visual ]

[ visual ]

[ visual ]

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

no subject

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

[Location - Enterprise Sickbay]

no subject

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

no subject

no subject

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

no subject

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

no subject

[ location: Enterprise Bridge ]

no subject

no subject

no subject