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New Doctor Disaster

Posted on Fri Oct 30th, 2020 @ 3:43am by Lieutenant Damien Gardener

This is what modern 24th-century medicine has brought me to; sorting out the cold storage locker in the back of Sickbay. Just because this is a mostly new ship, sort of Mom & Pop fixer-upper except Mom was Starfleet Command and Pop was the terrifying need for new hulls in the wake of the most devasting war on record, doesn't mean there aren't previous tenants lurking about.

For an example, I provide Exhibit A: mystery vial found behind a rack of crisper RNA sequencer tags in the stasis chamber. What's in it? No clue, it's a mystery vial and I'm quite taken with the idea of letting my hubris keep its secret until we're all coughing out a lung or other respiratory organ. My little vial of Appendix-Be-Gone! (Patent pending)

Maybe its just someones very small, very tiny lunch that they left in the back of the stasis draw? Wouldn't be the first time someone let the meatloaf special warp the laws of nature to become some world-ending horror. Starfleet Academy's cafeteria does it on a daily basis, with shockingly few fatalities. (As a survivor of The Great Ravello Incident, I speak with some measure of experience.)

It's not even that heavy, so it's not as though its replicating mass in there. Huum. Probably shouldn't be tossing it up and down in my robo hand to determine weight. I'm surrounded by state of the art scientific equipment, of which very little of it is being used because everyone is healthy! Even the engineers are healthy, and they are accident-prone children playing with atomic Lego bricks.

And so I sits, because I fits in sickbay.

With my vial of mystery plague.

Huum.

I'll just put it back in the stasis draw. Always good to have something to fill in an afternoon if I get really bored. I'll just walk into the mess hall, drop the vial, and before you know it I'll have patients with an interesting fungal infection to cure. Or maybe its a haemorrhagic fever? Bleeding eyeballs never hurt anyone except the poor souls with the bleeding eyeballs. Might even be something rare like a silicon-based-

Well first off, I'm sending a strongly worded letter to the manufactures of my hand because the dexterity index scores are way off.

And secondly...well my afternoon is now filled in with mild quarantine and scientific curiosity. If indeed the smashed vial of plague kills me off, I want it named after me.

Smells earthy. Probably shouldn't be sniffing it, but I am bored.

Minty aftertaste too.

 

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