MSNPC Dara Paxton - All part of the plan?
Hope Forster
Her surveillance of the effects of her neurotoxin she had created had been slightly more intense than what she had been anticipating…however, the results were predictable. Quintessential supply and demand.
Paxton: ::scuttling backwards till she hit the bulkhead behind her:: Ah ah ah…Let’s not be too hasty…I’m feeling all kinds of something right now…remember…lives are on the line.
Sherlock: Yours, first and foremost.
Willow: Only yours.
oO Just what was any of that supposed to mean?! Oo
Paxton: ::intensely:: Self-preservation is a hallmark of any sentient creature; don’t act so self-righteous.
Sherlock: No more talk, you're coming with us and you're going to give our doctors the information they need.
Paxton: Who are you to tell me what I will do?
Willow: You can either come willingly or I can knock you out.
Sherlock: If you don't talk to them, I'll gladly hand you over to our Intel people. They have their ways of getting what we need.
Dara smirked at the other human’s comment.
Somehow the threat fell flat when it was a foregone conclusion.
Paxton: Oh…no doubt.
::bemused::
Sherlock: Willow, check on Sh'shelor. Make sure she's ok. ::tapping her combadge:: =/\= Sherlock to DeVeau.=/\=
DeVeau: =/\= DeVeau here. =/\=
Sherlock: =/\= Commander, I have good news and bad news. The bad, Terra Prime released a neurotoxin that seems to be affecting non-Terrans. =/\=
DeVeau: =/\= We know. Someone brought some aboard here. What’s the *good* news? =/\=
Sherlock: =/\= The good news, we have the person who developed it. =/\=
DeVeau: =/\= Transport her back to the ship. We have two minutes until we’re hit with a shockwave from an explosion, and we need to get out of dodge. DeVeau out.=/\=
Paxton: …well that sounds rather ominous, doesn’t it?
Sherlock: ?
Willow: I’m no doctor but I have basic first aid. Can you tell me how many fingers I’m holding up? ::She holds up three, her thumb and first two fingers::.
Sherlock: Response
Paxton: Response
Willow: Umm…Okay…Wiggle your antennae for me.
Dara heard the tattooed female’s request and her eyes looked past Sherlock to the blue skin looking rather pitiful on the ground.
This she had to see…
Sherlock: Response
Paxton: ::her attention begrudgingly going back to the human security officer::
Why does a bird sing?
Why does cat kill when it’s not hungry?
::shrugging slightly:: It’s just my nature.
Willow: I say you might have a concussion but then again. You should see a doctor the moment we get back.
Sherlock: Response
Paxton: It’s not like I killed her.
It’ll grow back.
Willow: Can you walk, we have to get going, now. ::nodding to the Andorian satisfied she can at least make it back, she turns towards Sherlock, talking about the enemy woman:: Shall I knock her out? If she
is going to come with us…
Sh’shelor: Shut up and help me.
Dara: Do you really have the time or the energy to attempt that?
Sherlock/Willow: Response.
Dara tensed as the shimmers of while light engulfed her, and her world shimmered out of existence. She rematerialized in a sharply modernized sickbay. She was now completely in enemy territory. The game had changed, and the rules were now totally different.
The Andorian female muttered something incomprehensible and then dropped to the ground.
WIllow: ?
Dara put her hands up in a gesture of surrender.
Paxton: I will tell you what you desire; but I want something in return.
Sherlock/Willow: ?
Paxton: I want the brain scans. I’ll settle for one if Starfleet is as squeamish as I imagine…I just need to see…::emphatic:: I need to know!
Sherlock/Willow:?
Paxton: Those that have been exposed won’t get ‘better,”…or at least much. Results have been variable. ::waving her hand in a dismissive manner:: It’s an irreversible antagonist – well…almost. It’s never ideal to generate something absolute. It backs you into a corner.
Sherlock/Willow:?
Paxton: It got me here. The galaxy is now full of possibilities.
Sherlock/Willow:?
[End scene for Dara]
Tag/TBC
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MSNPC Dara Paxton
Xenogeneticist/Bioengineer
Miranda VII Station
J239812S14