Ensign Roy Bancroft - The Cat Has Seniority
Carter Schimpff
((Sickbay, Deck 7 - USS Artemis))
While Roy had now completely recovered from the physical effects of the post-mission adrenaline crash, he was acutely aware that the psychological ones were hanging around like a bad smell. Or, more accurately in this case, like whatever enzyme-rich contents had recently exited Dr. Richards' stomach and splashed across his uniform.
Still, he told himself, this was a minor setback. He would get a hot shower. He would get a clean uniform. He would–
They entered Sickbay together, and Richards interrupted his mental checklist.
Richards: Sorry again, about the uh… ::gesturing to his vomit covered uniform:: all of that.
Bancroft: ::deadpan:: Honestly it’s on me. I knew I should have packed a poncho. ::a beat:: If you feel anything else coming, though, I’d love a little advance warning so I can be emotionally prepared.
The Sickbay was, in a word, chaos. Controlled, professional chaos – but chaos nonetheless. Nurses darted between biobeds, half the staff were mid-procedure, and somewhere in the background, someone was definitely arguing with an overhead scanner.
Roy could feel Richards hesitating beside him. He didn’t even need to look to know what was coming next.
Richards: Listen, Dr. Bancroft. I am not going to ask them to deal with my problem right now. ::Tilting her head towards the chaos:: They have other things to worry about. I’ll come back before we ship out again.
Bancroft: Nonsense, Dr. Richards – you’re a member of this crew in need of medical attention, and that happens to be what we do here in Sickb–
–His sentence cut short as Richards suddenly focused on something over his shoulder. That look. That very specific look that meant someone nearby had either just died, disrobed, or done something deeply ill-advised.
A blur of soft fur soared past him, followed by an audible thump as it collided with Richards' chest and immediately began to purr with the smug self-satisfaction of someone who knew they didn’t belong here and was proud of it.
Roy turned slowly.
Tho’Bi stood several paces behind, wearing the expression of a man entirely unaware that he had just smuggled a Class 2 Feline into a medical zone and committed what seemed – based on the look on Richards’ face – to be some sort of low-level interpersonal war crime.
Richards: Why do you have my cat?
Roy looked from Tho’Bi, to Copurrnicus, to the growing tide of Sickbay staff dodging around them with increasing exasperation.
Bancroft: Is there–
He deftly stepped out of the way of a nurse racing by with an anabolic protoplaser.
Bancroft: Is there something wrong with the cat? Is it injured?
Tho’Bi: Response
Richards seemed to be trying desperately to cling to the last shreds of sanity she still possessed as the cat nestled snugly on top of her belly.
Richards: Tho’Bi. Explain yourself. Why was my cat on the bridge?
Tho’Bi: Response
Bancroft: ::dryly, with a raised brow:: Should we not, for the sake of medical triage, begin with the question of why there's currently a cat in Sickbay?
He wasn’t sure who he was asking anymore. Or why. His pleas to free the sickbay from this feline fiasco seemed to be falling on deaf ears.
Richards looked at her cat, then at him – with something approaching incredulity – then took a menacing step forward toward the towering Andorian.
Richards: Are you insane?
Tho’Bi: Response
Bancroft: ::flipping open his medical tricorder and scanning Tho’Bi:: I’m not reading any unusual–
He was cut off by Richards’ next invective.
Richards: Response
Tho’Bi: Response
Roy’s tricorder trilled as the two parties – one Andorian, and one increasingly volatile Feline/Human alliance – moved around each other like a poorly choreographed ballet. He was mid-scan when Copurrnicus, radiating the smug confidence of someone who knew exactly what it was doing, casually slapped the tricorder from his hands.
Bancroft: ::bending down to retrieve the tricorder:: Look, all I’m saying is, if this becomes some sort of hostage crisis, the cat has seniority. I will not be negotiating.
Richards: Response
Tho’Bi: Response
TAG/TBC!
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Ensign Roy Bancroft
Medical Officer
USS Artemis-A
A240205RB1