Lt. Cmdr Stros - Pale, Pink Man
Nathan Richards
((Warehouse somewhere in Oparis, Uwe II))
Returning his tricorder to his tunic, Stros stood a little straighter as he addressed the group.
Stros: I must mention the fact that the longer we stand within this warehouse and debate the use of camouflage, the harder it may become to find Commander Hopper and her team.
Varati: I’m not using the acid, just the diluted oxide. And underneath, of course, I’ll apply some kind of primer made of wound powder or a thin layer of skin cream… something like that should be included in our neutral first aid kits. I don’t want to create a monster. If the risk seems to great, then we don’t do it. But yes, we have to decide now.
With the precautions that Ensign Varati outlined, Stros felt a little better about the possible application to the Commander’s face and extremities.
Varati: We can also simply fill the paste into a little jar and take it with us… we have it and can use it, if necessary?!
A preferable option.
Ukinix: Yes, let’s do that. ::points to trash can:: We’ll apply it later to my skin when we need to, we probably won’t be able to get away with the whole Wil-in-the-Rubbish schtick for too long. ::Inhales through teeth:: But maybe we should do it now, just in case…
Moore: Response
Stros: ::To Wil:: I suggest you make a decision Commander. Keep in mind my advice.
Stros found himself almost excited to watch Commander Ukinix stuff himself into a vessel that was almost too small. He almost had to fight to keep a constant smirk off of his face.
Varati: Maybe we can at least find some more suitable clothing here…?
Ukinix: Clothes sounds good. I’ll get in the rubbish been– trash can, and we’ll take the paint with us. If you can find clothes, I’ll wear them now, at least we’re 50 percent prepared then. At the first sign of trouble, we’ll paint me with that stuff to help disguise me. It won’t be as effective as your disguises that you have, but it may help keep people at bay for a while. Is that understood, team?
Moore: Response
Stros gave a nod, the smirk slipping from his face. Perhaps Ensign Varati was right. No need for the nonsense.
Stros: Very well, Commander. Let us proceed.
Commander Ukinix nodded and moved towards the bin.
Varati: How far is it from here back to the west Imeris branch settlement where first met Elarrapal? Surely the most likely scenario is to meet her there or someone from her group of activists?
Ukinix: No, Hospital first. That’s an order.
It had been stated before that Elarrapal had been taken to the local hospital. Perhaps the facility in Imeris hadn’t been adequately equipped to handle the trauma she had endured.
Moore: Response
Varati: Surely someone can tell us where Elarrapal or this Norsel usually stay? Or if there have been any other unusual events…
Ukinix: We could ask people, but I don’t want to raise suspicion. We’re heading to the hospital.
Nodding, Stros stepped forward to stand next to the trash bin.
Stros: ::Gesturing towards bin:: You’re chariot awaits, Commander.
Moore: Response
Commander Ukinix lifted the lid on the bin and looked into its depths for a moment before climbing in with a bit of a look on his face.
Varati: Surely these oversized sequoia trees can’t interfere with our devices so massively? We would have noticed that before, wouldn't we? ::pause, incredulous snort:: Or maybe it’s just this building? Perhaps we should cautiously approach the door and assess the situation?
Stros: Caution is always advised, Ensign.
Moore: Response
Stros held the lid to the trash bin at the ready as the Ensign made her way towards the exit.
Varati: Ok, fine. No one is here except us. I’ll just take a quick look around to see if I can get a signal outside and then I’ll be right back.
The door creaked open as Varati stuck her head out briefly before walking out of the warehouse. It appeared that everything was safe. For the moment.
Ukinix: Alright, put the lid on, let’s go to the hospital.
Stros simply nodded before placing the lid on top of the bin with a sturdy thunk. Everything being made of mostly wood and metal gave it a rather robust feeling. He certainly hoped that Commander Ukinix could breath efficiently within the vessel.
Stros: How…exactly do we plan on moving the bin?
Moore: Response
Ukinix: That’s for you guys to work out how to get me there. You’ll have to carry me– I mean the rubbish bin— I mean, the trash can– unless there’s a sack truck or something with wheels?
With a quick glance around, Stros found a cart. It was just a little bigger than the trash bin itself, and appeared to be sturdy and stable enough to do the job. He walked over, removing the crates and rubbish that sat on top before wheeling it back over.
Stros: I do believe this will be sufficient.
Moore: Response
Ensign Varati re-entered the building as Stros carefully lifted the trash bin from the ground and set it down on the cart. oO Sorry, Commander. Oo
Varati: Well, there’s nothing going on outside, but unfortunately no signal to be received either. Oh, a “CiaB” – Commander in a box!
Making sure the lid was affixed properly to the bin, they were ready for their trek to the hospital. The Commander’s muffled voice came from the bin, almost inaudible.
Ukinix: Let’s go.
((Corridor, Oparis Regional Hospital, North Oparis Branch Settlement, Uwe II))
The journey to the hospital hadn’t taken long, but the cart hadn’t been as sturdy as Stros had hoped. It did most of the job, but he and Lieutenant Moore had keep hold of the handles, lifting it over roots that grew along the path. Hopefully their disguises could withhold sweat. Not for Stros’ sake, but he was sure that Kaito must have worked up a sweat himself possibly. As they made their way through the halls of the hospital, the came upon a rather annoyed looking Uwezo wearing what he could only assume was the Uwe version of scrubs and a lab coat.
Doctor: We are very busy today, and you three are in the way! And you are not meant to be moving waste during our busiest hours.
Thankfully, Ensign Varati was quick on the draw with a story to hopefully cover their obviously out of place appearance.
Varati: Clear skies, doctor. We are the replacement team from the cleaning service Leaf & Frond. We’ve received an order to “clean” the hospital room of a particularly unruly patient outside of the normal schedule… “Special assignment”, you know?! My colleague from the Big Grey Bushes has written down her name. ::Looks at Stros::
It appeared it was his time in the spotlight. Stros nodded slightly before responding to the doctor.
Stros: We are looking for one Elarrapal.
Moore: Response
Doctor: ::Annoyed, checking clip board:: Elarrapal… Elarrapal… lost and arm apparently. She is scheduled for surgery, currently under guard. Why?
They had just stated their “why”. Based on the bustling of other Uwezo through the halls, it was a particularly busy time for the doctors of this hospital. Stros could be understanding of the confusion.
Varati: Well, a somewhat unruly patient? One of those anti-warp activists, which is probably why the guard is there?
Stros: Maintenance requested our services to assist in the…maintenance of this particular person’s room.
Moore: Response
Stros wasn’t sure if their story was at all believable. Perhaps this doctor was busy enough to simply let them slip through.
Doctor: Tell *maintenance* that they would not respond to every whim of every patient. Especially one of those anti-warp freaks who rejects science. Now go! And do not stay long enough to grow branches and leaves.
Hopefully they would not be there that long. Stros was unsure just how long it would take for Vulcan, an Orion, and an El-Aurian to grow leaves and branches.
Varati: By the Sacred Tree of Uropal! Our calendar is fuller than there are leaves on the trees!
Stros: Um, yes, indeed.
Moore: Response
((Hospital Room, Oparis Regional Hospital, North Oparis Branch Settlement, Uwe II))
Without a room number, but directions, the group made their way to Elarrapal’s room. They unfortunately had to leave the cart in the lobby and carry the bin the rest of the way, meaning that Commander Ukinix was again subjected to a series of bumps and bruises. As they grew closer, the crowd seemed to thin out, with only a few nurses moving about and taking a patient into an operating room. The guard, taking one look at the carried trash bin, simply stepped aside and let them into the room. No questions asked. Not exactly the heaviest security being placed for a supposedly wanted person.
They entered the virtually empty and immaculate room, save for the single bed sat in the center with the usual equipment scattered about, some hooked to the one armed Elarrapal within the bed, and others sitting idle either waiting for use or stationed long after their intended purpose.
Elarrapal: Ah. So that’s how I am supposed to be disposed of. Will you cut me to scraps as well?
Elarrapal didn’t seem to recognize them, either due to the sedatives they had given her in preparation for her surgery, or simple memory coherence after all of the recent events.
Varati: ::to Guard:: Clear skies, my friend. We are the replacement team from the cleaning service Leaf & Frond.
The Ensign appeared to be staying back by the door and speaking with the guard. Perhaps as a distraction.
Stros: I do not think that turning you into scraps will be necessary.
Moore: Response
It appeared that the Ensign’s distraction at the door wasn’t quite working as the guard called into the room.
Guard: Need me to make her cooperate?
Varati: Oh, that’s not necessary… We’re used to completely different things. But I think the nurses out there could use a helping hand. … There are three of us here, everything’s fine.
It appeared the distraction at the door had the opposite effect that they were hoping, as the guard turned to look into the doorway.
Stros: ::Quietly:: This does not seem to be going as smoothly as intended.
Ukinix/Moore: Response?
Elarrapal: You were at Imeris, weren’t you? I’m afraid you’ve already missed your friends and their… credentials. Though they are not long gone.
And there was the recognition. Perhaps a bit too soon as the guard stood in the doorway.
Varati: Urgh! ::to Guard:: Oh no! I wasn’t prepared for this! ::puts hand over mouth:: Could you escort me out? Otherwise, my colleagues will have to clean twice.
Stros couldn’t help but sigh.
Guard: A member of sanitation with a weak stomach?
Stros: Some of us just can’t handle certain things. ::Looking at Elarrapal’s (for lack of a better term) stump:: It would appear our colleague’s weakness is viscera. What is it you were saying of our other colleagues?
Ukinix/Moore: Response
Elarrapal: They went to speak with Procla, and perhaps Uropal through her. They sought Norsel, and to know what rests beneath the great tree. Take me from here and I will show a path along the quietest of roots. Such will not ask questions of us.
Ensign Varati looked towards the others with a “do something” sort of gesture while pointing towards the Uwezo in the bed. Stros looked towards Lieutenant Moore with a raised eyebrow. Perhaps if they had simply entered the room and let the door close behind them things would be going somewhat smoother.
Varati: ::back to the Guard:: As you can see, the lady doesn’t have all its leaves on the branch anymore… ::holds her hand over her mouth again:: Uuh! Could you please escort me outside now? We’re already way behind schedule, and any further delays will only get us into trouble with our boss. And you don’t want an expectant mother unemployed do you? ::points to her belly::
Another exaggeration from the Orion in an attempt to get the guard to escort her out. Stros hoped at least.
Guard: Expectant mother? ::Looking down at D’Cyra’s stomach:: Did you eat the seedling?!
Stros found himself utterly unable to think of something to do…or say. A strange occurrence to him as he simply stood there and watched the moment unfold.
Ukinix/Moore: Response
Varati: Umpphh! ::to the Guard:: So please…
The guard stood there as if in shock as Varati grabbed onto his arm and leaned forward.
Elarrapal/Ukinix/Moore: Response
The guard, unsure of what to do, moved Varati towards the trash bin, slightly lifting the lid.
Guard: If you are expelling your seedling, please do it within your own receptacle.
Varati: No, no, only medical waste and nothing else is allowed in this bin!
Raising an eyebrow, Stros wondered if vomit wasn’t considered medical waste. The Ensign quickly shoved the lid back down onto the bin and continued to pull the guard back towards the door.
Guard: For the shade of the… Fine.
He finally relented, letting Ensign Varati lead him towards and out the door. There was a soft click as the latch closed behind them, leaving them finally alone. Stros moved forward and pulled the lid off of the bin, peering down inside at the man within.
Stros: Crisis narrowly avoided, wouldn’t you say, Commander?
Ukinix/Elarrapal/Moore: Response
Looking up at Elarrapal, Stros almost forgot the alien appearance of Commander Ukinix.
Stros: I suppose I should warn you…
Ukinix/Elarrapal/Moore: Response
Stros: Pale, pink man. Now that we have that out of the way, we must figure out our avenue of escape. You said you could lead us along roots where no questions would be asked?
Ukinix/Elarrapal/Moore: Response
TAGS/TBC…
Lieutenant Commander Stros
Chief of Operations/Second Officer
Amity Outpost
A239905NR1