What is Happening?!?!?!?!

Posted on Tue Feb 22nd, 2022 @ 3:41pm by Lieutenant JG Devlyn Selek MD & Lieutenant Commander Meilin Jiang & The Narrator

Mission: S0E0: What Came Before

=/\=Medical Emergency at docking bay 6.=/\=

At first, Dr. Selek stared around at the other officers in Sick Bay. Being unused to emergency duty, he didn't immediately register what the message had been. That is, until on of the nurses gave him a significant look and then nodded towards the emergency kits.

"Oh, that's me!" he exclaimed and sprinted three steps to the medkits, checked that everything was in one of them, and sprinted out the door.

He had to ask the computer for directions, but he made it there in record time. At least, he told himself it was record time. He liked to pretend everything he did was a record; it made him feel like he'd accomplished something.

As he approached the dock, he spotted the customs officer on duty. "Hey, what seems to be- WHOA!" he interrupted himself, spotting what he recognized as a Saurian bleeding from the stump of what used to be an arm. "Dude! How'd that happen?" he asked, taking out a tricorder and scanning the stump.

The four hooded Saurians blinked at the doctor. One of them was missing an arm, the stub of which was dripping onto the deck.

"It'sss only a flesh wound," he said.

"Flesh wound, my ass!" replied Devlyn. "You're dripping all over the deck plating! Look, I know Saurians can regenerate, but I'm going to need to stop the bleeding for now."

The Saurian monks hissed in unison. "NO!"

An elder monk stepped forward. "Thou shalt not staunch the flow of blood, for it is written, 'Blood shalt flow until it reacheth the fulness thereof'."

“Okay, well I can’t just let you bleed all over the place,” replied Devlyn, already calming into a typical Vulcan reaction. “Can I give you a bucket, or…” He shrugged, unsure of what else to do.

"Here," the pilot from the transport said as he carried out a EVA helmet sloshing with fluids. "Use the 'sacred vessel' here to capture the essence of a true warrior for future use."

"Yes!" exclaimed Devlyn. "A bucket. Although I don't think we can save it. Unsanitary and all that. You know."

"Oh," the pilot said looking back at the horror story that was his shuttle. "I know. Trust me. I've got about a half bodyweight of Saurian sprayed over the jump seats. I'm Jett, by the way. Part of the Canopus Station outreach on the Carpathia."

He nodded at the knot of monks.

"We got called out from Landersfell to where the Monk's were setting up shop. Automated medical alert. When we get there we find the monks fighting a blood rose that was under their compound after...er...some sort of farming accident with a horned bovine?" Jett said.

"We were conducting a sssacred ritual," said the elder monk. "Our rites are protected! Interfering would be mossst objectionable."

"And letting a twenty-meter wide serrated starfish thing eat your covenant would have been one too many oddballs in a single report," Jett said with a scowl. "Also where the hell did you find a goat? The Acheron didn't crash on Carpathia with goats. And yet you took the head off of one like it was a can of soda and inadvertently fed a docile hydromorph into a feeding frenzy."

The circle of monks closed ranks under the scrutiny. "The Blood Goddess shall alwaysss provide. Are we done here? You are obssstructing our path." A low chorus of YAAAAS floated from their midst. "That isss not wisdom."

"On that, we can agree," Jett said levelly.

"Okay, but I can't let you bleed all over the place," replied Dev. "Can you at least take the bucket?"

"And do you have a valet service?" Jett asked, gesturing back to the Dominion War era disaster that was now the interior of his shuttle. "Because I'm 100% sure these jokers will not be cleaning up the mess they made."

"That will not be necessssary," said the head monk. "Behold!"

His scaly, talon pointed toward the stub of a limb on his compatriot which had already begun to clot.

"Do we resssume battle?" asked the monk with the amputated limb. His eagerness was palpable.

"Considering the Blood Rose is still down there and thrashing about I don't see why not, I don't see why this terrible mummer's play couldn't continue," Jett sighed.

"Do you hear that, my brothersss?!"

The brood of monks hissed as one. "YAAAAASSS!!!"

"Feasts be upon you," said a newcomer to the public spectacle, "and famine to your enemies." Stepping closer, Meilin raised her fist high before bowing low. After their ignominious arrival last time, Meilin had a standing automated alert that notified her the moment any Ragolar monks came aboard the station. "I see you have tasted battle."

This woman spoke like she knew what would resonate with the Saurians, so Devlyn just stood back and waited, hoping for the best.

"Oh God it's infectious," Jett groaned.

"Yaass," intoned the elder monk. "Commander Jiang. We know you from our inaugural visit. Thank the Goddesssss there isss one aboard this station who honors the way of Scale Invictus."

Meilin nodded without so much as a hint of snickering. "Our hearth is open to you. Go, rest." Leaning over to the other Starfleet officers, she whispered, "Offering medical treatment to a Saurian Ragolar is more offensive than sexual solicitation of their mothers."

“Okay, but I can’t just let them bleed all over the station!” Devlyn replied in an equal volume. “I even offered to let him carry around a bucket to bleed into, but he didn’t like that, either.”

"The blood of Ragolar consecrets wheresoever it falleth!" proclaimed one of the monks. "Count thyselves blessed for the consecration we bestow!"

"Oh. Yeah. Thank you," said Devlyn with a roll of his eyes. "I'm sure when we're all sick of a blood borne pathogen, we'll be so grateful to know that at least we're holy!"

"They honor the deadly potency of our blood!" declared the elder monk. "Glory to the Goddess!"

"YAAAAAASSS," intoned the others in reverent unison.

Devlyn blinked, then said in a whispered aside, “they don’t understand sarcasm, so they?”

"They do not," Jett said and slapped the doctor on the shoulder. "Best of luck."

"We have fought, we have bled," declared the elder monk in the tone of a refrain.

Behind him, the other monks joined together to complete the chant. "Now we must fuck in bed!"

"Yaaasss," agreed the elder monk. "Is there an establishment with such sssservices?"

"Not to my knowledge," replied Devlyn, attempting to keep his eyes from bugging out. "Can't you just... you know, do that together? With each other?"

The monks hissed in unison, clearly offended. "What?! Sssacrilege! With..." Their giant eyes rolled about in uneasy study of their fellow monks. "...each other?" The murmuring fell to sheepish, hissing giggles.

Devlyn nodded encouragingly. "Yeah, I mean, you know. As long as there is no rule against it... why not?"

"To fuckery!" shouted the chief elder, leading the other monks in tow to the nearest dark, hot, and humid environment to commence their consummation of glory.

As they departed, even without all their limbs, Meilin stared at them with a completely neutral expression. "At least the amputated limb has begun to clot," she noted dryly. "Even so, I suggest getting a decontamination team on standby and assigned to wherever they end up. Standard sanitation operations will not be adequate."

Devlyn cringed. “Yeah,” he replied. “I’m trying not to think about it.”