Lt. Commander Jo Marshall - It Takes Guts To Be An Organ Donor
Jo Marshall
((Field Hospital, Darime Colony))
A roar of Vulcan might bellowed from a broad chest and a good set of lungs as the man rose onto his feet, pulling his arms around to his front and snapping the ropes tying him in place. The gold Starfleet uniform looked a little too small for him, as though designed to fit someone shorter and slimmer than the tall and broad frame standing in front of them.
The Vulcan stretched his arm out to the nearest officer and gripped his fingers into the blue of Ayiana’s uniform. He lifted her easily a few feet off the floor one-handed, and with the other, flipped over the nearest biobed.
Marshall: Or backup quickly. That’s a better option. Drop her! Bad Vulcan!
Sevo: N-no! D- *hack* -don’t drop! Bad choice- *hurk* -of words!
The blonde grabbed the rifle and checked the plasma compartment; it fried and fizzled from the rain, seeping through a cracked casing. It would still fire, but Jo already had her reservations. Blood rushed, her heartbeat thrummed in her ears.
Loxley: A heavy stun blast *might* be enough to put him down, but…
Sevo: N-no! *hurk* Don’t shoot him!
sh’Qynallahr: ::Quietly:: The one time I leave my Ushaan-tor behind...
Marshall: Find something else then!
Aiming the rifle did nothing; the Vulcanoid ignored any kind of threat, and with a deafening roar and whoosh of an arm, he hurled Ayiana as far as he could. A thunderous crack resonated through the tent as Ayiana collided with their set up medical equipment and Loxley jumped forward to her position.
Not that Jo saw. Instead, her blue eyes fixated on the pounding Pira delivered, blow after blow, continuous and strong. Her cobalt hand snatched up the broom propped against the biobed and struck the Vulcanoid on the back of the knees, the stitching of the elbows, in places to take down the assailant as quickly as possible.
Sevo: D-did anyone get the registry number of that starship?!
Loxley: I’d suggest keeping your head down, Commander.
Jo shot a look over to Ayiana to find the Trill on her knees, bleeding in front of the Doctor. As places to bled went, it was one of the less inconvenient. A bloodied lip and bruised eye socket would be simple enough to patch up, though the memory of being hurled across the room by a Vulcanoid would live in the memory for a long while.
sh’Qynallahr: Watch out!
And a metal crate crashed into a pile of equipment next to them, scattering medical tools across the floor.
Sevo: Response
sh’Qynallahr: Someone grab a phaser and get ready!
The fight was over in a matter of moments. Pira wheeled, ducked and dived, giving the Vulcanoid a runaround and a challenging foe to fend off. He was unsuccessful, however, and Pira swiftly got the upper hand, throwing the assailant to the ground with a vibrating blow that shook the earth beneath their feet and rattled the medical equipment on the surrounding trays. The Vulcanoid was down, gasping for air with clutches to the windpipe.
Much to Jo’s surprise, Pira bowed to the defeated foe, as if this were a battle in the Skarbek cargo bays with Valesha.
Piravao: Stun him.
Jo shook her head. The phaser itself wouldn’t go much higher in the power settings without planting the serious risk of killing him. In that was something she wouldn’t allow, despite the threat. Not until it was their last option.
Marshall: Phaser won’t do much good here. We’re going to need something stronger.
Sevo: Response
A small cry of triumphant vigour leapt from the doctor as he found what he was looking for on the floor of discarded and spilt medical supplies. He tossed it underarm to Pira, the hypospray sailing through the air.
Loxley: Here! Axonol, dose him up and that should go some way to negating the stimulant in his system. He’ll stay down this time. ::He glanced at the Mission Specialist beside him:: It might help with your pain, too.
sh’Qynallahr: Response
Marshall: Nice work, both of you. Not the encounter we wanted to have tonight, but it’s the encounter we got. ::She swallowed, looking to Ayiana with concern crossing through her features.:: Ayiana, you alright in there? Got room for another Purple Heart on your ribbon rack?
Sevo: Response
Threat negated and Mission Specialist patched up, the four Starfleet Officers gathered around the Vulcanoid body, lying unconscious—entirely this time—on the floor. Chest still rising and falling with the motion of breath entering and exiting.
Jo cocked an eyebrow as her arms folded, her weight on one foot.
Marshall: Can we get a clearer picture of who this is now we know it’s not Lieutenant Adan.
sh’Qynallahr/Sevo: Response
The medical tricorder in Loxley’s hand gave a small trill of compliance as the scan returned; a determined scan hanging on for dear life throughout their fight.
Loxley: Well, he’s not Vulcan. Not fully, anyway. He’s a hybrid, Vulcan-Arcadian. I’ve never seen one before. He’s also not exactly infected, as such.
Marshall: Arcadian? ::The hooked eyebrow turned into a double of surprise.:: Would account for the sheer size of him but the skin colour? Where did that kind of hybrid spring into being?
sh’Qynallahr/Sevo: Response
Loxley: The scan detected the diseased cells sure enough, but look; ::he turned the tricorder display towards his companions:: Our friend has a Pelian thymus, and there’s no way that evolved by accident. It would explain the cervaline in his system. It looks like it was recently implanted. It's not even connected to the rest of his immune system.
The surprised visage gracing her features turned once more into a frown as Jo shot a look of confusion back at the Vulcanoid gracing their floor. She covered her mouth with her hand as she crouched down, allowing the braincells to tickle along inside her mind for a minute before asking the question she wanted to ask.
Marshall: You mean… he’s recently, as in very recently, had a transplant of a Pelian organ into his body. Voluntarily.
sh’Qynallahr/Sevo: Response
Loxley: My best guess is that it’s a rather unorthodox way of smuggling a sample of the disease. He just needed to inject his Pelian organ with a dose of the nanites or whatever and then get somewhere to have them removed before they killed his purloined Pelian thymus.
Marshall: Huh. ::Her brow twitched again.:: But where the hell would he get a Pelian thymus? That’s a very specific surgery, Doc. It’s not like whipping off a finger.
sh’Qynallahr/Sevo: Response
It seemed like a crazy idea to even think about it, let alone suggest it, but there was the evidence staring them in the face. The Arcadian/Vulcan, with the dark hair and the copperish skin tone, rocked a Pelian thymus located somewhere in his body. It triggered alarm bells in Jo’s head as she stood up from her crouch, letting her mind wander over the details.
Marshall: So, taking this all into account, we’ve had the medical facility we were supposed to set up sabotaged, ::she counted them off on her fingers,:: then we were ambushed and assaulted by shock troops stealing the data from the Romulan devices, then we’ve had this fellow hiding among the Starfleet crew try to steal it again. What goddamn reason do they want with it?
sh’Qynallahr/Sevo/Loxley: Response
Marshall: That’s assuming this is someone other than the Romulans, or the Pelians, for that matter. Romulans have been the primary source of medical care while we’ve been here and would lose out on access to the infected Pelians, or at least the glut of them if the second medical facility were to be built. On the other hand, we’ve got the Pelians, and this new or old knowledge of a new or old ancient disease, suddenly under scrutiny.
She bit her lip as she thought about it, her eyes narrowing. If Erin was there, no doubt the woman would know instinctively what the answer was, combining both her scientific and engineering brains into one mush of marvellous brains.
sh’Qynallahr/Sevo/Loxley: Response
Marshall: Is there any chance we could find out where the organ is from originally? Will it have DNA biotrace markers we can deduce? I’m thinking if it belonged to someone recently dead, or missing...
sh’Qynallahr/Sevo/Loxley: Response
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Lt. Commander Jo Marshall
First Officer
USS Gorkon, NCC-82293
G239304JM0
