Something is Rotten in Denmark

Posted on Mon May 9th, 2011 @ 10:25am by Captain Anna Johnson & Commander Basil Hart & Jana Johnson

1,267 words; about a 6 minute read

Mission: On Typhon Station
Location: Sickbay

Anna wasn't sure what was going on. She kept getting chills then long periods of time would go by in which she couldn't remember what she had been doing or why she was in chain mail.

As she stepped through the doors another chill hit her and she blinked.

Joan looked around not sure where she was or why she was there. Her armor was missing again and she was getting frustrated about that. There was a sign on the wall that read if you need assistance go to Helen Waite.
She looked at it puzzled a moment then noticed the name plate on the desk where a woman was sitting.

Hoping she might be able to help her she stepped up to her. "Do you by any chance know where I might find Prince Charles?" She asked.

Helen looked up into the Captain's face, smiling. "That's a good one, Ma'am, although I'm not sure Doc Hart would be OK with you calling him Charles. Have a seat on that bed over there, and I'll let him know you're here." She indicated a bio bed in exam room two.

She took a seat confused. Who was this Doctor Hart she spoke of? Was it perhaps Prince Charles in disguise?

About that time Jana strolled into the reception area. She was dressed in a mid-evil dress and carrying a mandolin. As she played she sang and was apparently spreading the news of what she had witnessed that day.

Basil heard loud singing coming from the waiting area. Rushing out to see who was doing the singing, he came up short. Realzing that someone was playing the part of a minstrel, he grinned and played along. Thank you, good minstrel, that will be all for now. Your dulcet tones have soothed my weary soul." He turned to Anna. "Captain, what can I do for you?"

"I don't know who this captain is that you speak of my name is Joan of Arc and I am here seeking information on the whereabouts of Prince Charles." Anna said then shivered, "Though it is a bit cold in here if you could offer me something for warmth it would also be appreciated."

Jana looked around and moved on continuing to spread her news.

"Joan of Arc? Interesting." He frowned and looked at her more closely. "May I look at you more closely, Mademoiselle? I am a physician and apothecary, and I need to verify that you have not been wounded before you are brought before His Majesty."

"Very well, what do you need me to do?" She asked.

"Absolutely nothing, Mademoiselle," He smiled kindly. "I will simply ask you to hold still and be not concerned with the whistles, chirps, and whirrings you hear. They are a part of my normal healing practice. You may also hear me talking to 'Computer', You may think of her as my scribe and assistant in the other room. Please relax and lie back on the bed." He quickly called up a full diagnostic routine and compared it to the captains most recent physical exam.

'Joan' lay back in her mind she was wondering what sort of medicine this doctor was practicing but she did as he asked. She closed her eyes a moment. Anna was fighting to gain control of her thoughts but she was finding it harder and harder to be in charge of her thoughts and actions. With a forced effort she spoke before Joan took control again. "Help me Doctor Hart." She said before her facial expression changed back to that of Joan.

His head jerked as he looked her in the eyes. There was a momentary spark of lucidity in her expression, and then it was gone. The bewildered look of someone trying to make sense of something returned to her countenance. "Computer, erect a level one sterile field around biobed two, and scan patient for known pathogens and variants concurrent with discovered symptoms including disorientation, fever, excessive perspiration, multiple personality disorder, and..." he thought back to Jana's strange behavior, "... loss of inhibition and rationality."

He strapped a device to each of his wrists and turned it on. The familiar hum of a bioelectrc repulsor field told him he wouldn't be catching anything communicable by touch.

The computer finished with its analysis within moments. "Working," its slight inflection was barely discernible from real speech. "Patient's vital signs indicate symptoms of alcohol intoxication, but based upon pathogenic exposure, not consumption of alcoholic substances. Bacteriological infectious agents not present. Fungal infection: negative. Viral infection possible. Variant of Psi 2000 Virus present. Virulent strain. Possibility of transmission to unprotected carbon-based life forms: one hundred percent. Transmission of pathogen most likely via physical contact of any sort where epidermis comes in contact with infected perspiration or any other bodily fluid."

A knot formed in the pit of Basil's stomach. "Computer, is there an antidote?"

"Working. Original virus on record has mutated significantly since last known outbreak. New antidote must be synthesized."

"Damn. Estimate time for completion." He dreaded the computer's answer.

"Working. Synthesis of first iteration will take approximately six hours."

"Damn! Computer, estimate potential spread of the infection, assuming that current patient is the fifth individual to contract the virus, and assuming an incubation period of one hour!"

"Working," the computer responded dispassionately. "Possible spread based on given parameters: five percent of station population within one hour, twenty five percent within two hours, sixty percent within three hours, total infection of all personnel within four hours."

Basil turned to "Joan", trying to stay calm. "Mademoiselle D'Arc, I regret to inform you that you are in the beginning stages of an illness which will make those around you sick. However, I will have something to make you feel better within a few hours. I need you to stay here, though, and try to relax. I'm sure I don't need to tell you that an audience with Prince Charles is out of the question until you are feeling better. I'm sure that once you are healed, he will be more than willing to allow you an audience. Please remain here on the bed and try to get some rest. I am going to prepare a poultice which will help you feel better." He smiled at her and exited the sterile field. "Computer, add a level two force field around the patient, and notify me if further restraint becomes necessary. Allow her to move about within a ten foot radius of the biobed, but maintain sterility of everything she touches. Alert the nursing staff, and advise them to stand by should the patient request anything." He prepared to go to the lab and begin work on the antidote.

Joan was actually feeling a bit tired so she lay back and closed her eyes.

The wandering minstrel that had been in before was just outside of sickbay she was still singing to those that passed though most didn't pay her any attention.

Basil invited the "minstrel" back into sickbay, and began working on her. Tapping his comm badge, he said, "Command center! On my authority as Senior Medical Officer, I am declaring Captain Johnson unfit for duty! As ranking Field grade officer, I am assuming command of this station effective immediately! I want this station on full emergency quarantine lockdown! Transfer command code authorization to me, authorization Hart zero two six Lambda Lambda Lambda!" He looked at his patients. "Now comes the fun part."

OFF

Captain Anna 'Joan' Johnson
Executive Officer
USS Typhon

Commander Basil Hart
Chief Medical Officer,
Star Base Typhon

Minstrel Jana Johnson (NPC)
Sister of Anna

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