Lt Commander Foster - Make It Work
Jamie LeBlanc
((Public Square – Biodome 2B, Miri 4B))
Korras: 'oy'qu' Qay'wI'wIj! ((Litterally: My little toe aches a lot. Idiom for: I'm very angry))
Oh no, when the Klingon started shouting things in Klingonese that meant it was on.
Scrawny little Doctor Foster was wiry and heard to pin down, and he had a hypospray on hand filled with sedatives (he always kept a hypospray in his boot because it was super useful and he had put sedative canisters in his pocket before heading out of the shuttle because he was paranoid) – which was the only way outside of a phaser that he would win a hand to hand combat with most anyone.
And – as history had taught him with terrifying results – that was not an assured victory. So he was very careful, trying to stay out of reach rather than engage.
Foster: stand down or we will fire on you!
And he was told firing would be very bad. So hello rock, meet hard place. It was not a fun place to be.
Kreshkova: If you stop chasing me, We can get you more. More food, more supplies. But we can’t do that if we’re injured or dead.
A big beefy hand reached out and caught a handful of the back of his uniform. His antennae swiveled and he managed to stay on his feet thanks to his heightened Andorian sense of balance, but his opponent was bigger and stronger than him and started to inexorably drag him backwards.
Foster: Get off me!
It wasn’t elegant or eloquent, but it was exactly what was going through his head. In fact what was going through his head was something akin to ‘I am gonna get something horrifically broken and who is going to put me back together when I’m the surgeon?’ which was a terrifying thought.
He tried to get his hands up to cover his face and neck as the assailant pulled him into punching range, aware of how futile that was and yet he was determined to try. And then…
Then the body of a Brekkian hit his own attacked full on and the two tumbled to the ground.
Wyn immediately scrambled free and ducked another swing, moving like a blue to get some space in between him and the aggressors, before he turned to see who threw it.
Korras. Thank goodness for Klingons. He tipped his antennae downwards in a silent thank you while he was scrambling for something that would give them an upper hand.
Korras: Mevyap! Stop! Enough! We are here to help, but we will defend ourselves.
Kreshkova: ?
Samhz: They lie!
The voice was angry, but getting weaker. Clearly the trio hadn’t expected the Starfleet officers to put up this much of a fight.
Wyn’s friend was already getting to his feet and the little blue doctor made a split second decision – one that he hoped he wouldn’t be regretting in about thirty seconds as he ran forward, straight towards the guy sitting up, and before he could get his bearings Wyn jammed a hypospray into his exposed bicep.
The man looked confused for a moment. Down at his arm, up at Wyn, over at Kreshkova, over to Korras and then his eyes gently rolled back into his head and he toppled backwards, pinning the Brekkian’s leg under his dead weight. Unconscious weight. Same thing.
Korras picked up the pipe that one of the trio had been using as a weapon and started the Brekkian and his still conscious buddy down.
Korras: Stand down. We will help you, but we need your help to do it. We have enough supplies, and we will be transporting even more. More than enough for everyone, and not just the rations, those I really do not prefer, either.
Samhz, the Brekkian, looked around. Considered his unconscious buddy who was wheezing in his slumber, considered his bruised buddy who was looking in favor of running away, and considered how unpleasant it would be to go another round with the Klingon.
Slowly he shook his head and the remaining two dropped their weapons.
Wyn loaded another cartridge of sedatives into his hypospray and looked imperiously at the Brekkian.
Foster: He’ll wake up in a few hours feelings a lot better. ::He paused and pulled himself up to his entire height of 1.63m to look as commanding as possible. It was… odd, but there was something in the tone of his voice that carried enough weight to sink in.:: Now, take your friends and walk away.
The Brekkian considered, slowly rolling the unconscious guy off his leg and sighing. No. He did not want to tangle with these Starfleet officers anymore. He waved his buddy forward and they picked up the unconscious third and started to walk off.
Kreshkova: ?
Korras: Good choice. Ensign, can you set up the last transport enhancer? ::He turned to look at the commander, and pointed to his chest, where the burn mark from the electric surge was:: Doctor, I may need your help as well.
He sucked in a breath and did a visual scan.
Foster: How long was he in contact with you?
Kreshkova/Korras: ?
He looked towards Krehkova.
Foster: Are you injured?
Kreshkova/Korras: ?
Foster: If you can make it back to the shuttle under your own power – I would vasty prefer to do a medical scan where it’s protected. But if you can’t let me know right now and I’ll make this work.
Kreshkova/Korras: ?
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tags/tbc
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Lt Commander Shar’Wyn Foster
Interim Chief Medical Officer
StarBase 118 Ops
~Julian Beck
E239010ST0