Malpractice

Tuesday, September 04, 2012

The Swordfish - Medical

Brushed aluminum grating make up the ground of the Medical Bay while the walls still hold up the white marble theme. Several white metallic droids are lined up by the main entrance and ready to be deployed should a patient be in need of severe medical attention. A dozen industrial medical tables are lined up' some with designated capabilities.

The staff is made up of various alien races; some are humanoid while others are not. A purple alien that much resembles a jellyfish has several tentacles to grapple different tools is doing surgical repairs to an injured Cybertronian while a Junkion instructs. A pink-spongelike alien rides inside the chassis of a humanoid exoskeleton sterilizes the unused medical and repair beds for their next patients. The room has several holographic projections of different alien medical authorities to help oversee and guide the staff.

Ambulance  rolls slowly through the throng of aliens, humans, and Cybertronian vehicles. His rear compartment has been sealed off for Marissa, with Amber and whoever else wants to be able to be with them up front. It's very crowded getting from the Coliseum to the Swordfish's medical area. "I don't know, Amber," First Aid says, "I just think we can trust Franklin lot more than you give him credit for. As far as we know, he hasn't done anything overtly against us or Marissa."

Ambulance , it should be noted, is a very comfortable ambulance. He has faux leather seats, individual climate control, seat warmers, and additional lighting should it be required. He's also very roomy.

Amber MacKenzie shakes her head. "He held General Faireborn incommunicado and did NOT tell her the truth about her condition. Doesn't that sound fishy to you, sir? And the pattern of her recovery/relapse cycles?"

"Yes but we certainly haven't done much better," First Aid says. As much as he hates to say it, Marissa's health hasn't exactly been super since she came to Autobot City. When it comes to humans, he's a trauma surgeon, not a disease control expert... dangit Jim. "I'll admit it's fishy, yes, and all the secrecy around her condition was irritating, but you could argue it was just good security."

Noah Wolfe snorts at Amber's comment, "I'd say so." He continues adjusting the portable computer that Duros gave him. He's been engrossed in it, only now he's converted the Nebulanese to English.

Amber MacKenzie bites her tongue on the topic of security or lack thereof. "General Faireborn was his *commanding officer*, not a little girl who couldn't handle the truth. Telling her that she had contracting an alien disease - and how the bloody hell did *that* happen - is the very least he owed her as an adult, a soldier, and a former Secretary-General."

As First Aid enters the medical facility, they'll find that a large portion of the center has actually been sectioned off by semi-opaque plastic (or what seems to be plastic) barriers. Standing outside this construct is a pale humanoid alien about 22 feet tall, wearing a dark suit with a black undershirt and a red tie. The effect is completed by his immaculate black hair. "Ah, my friends! I have seen many ambulances in my time, but not many that are doctors themselves! Haha! Please, please, drive on in!" His voice is good. "As long as your *credit* is good."

Marissa Faireborn slept through most of the trip up to the casino after briefly waking up to get jostled around and ready to go. She was starting to wake up again now that they were at their destination.

Hardhead slowly makes his way towards the Medical tent, much slower than the nimble First Aid. The Headmaster tries to blend in as much as a not-so-jolly green giant can blend in. He begins to the scan the area behind First Aid, making sure his comrade in arms isn't being tailed.

"Well yes, that /is/ bad, but not telling her doesn't seem like it would impact whether or not he was behind it. It really does seem to be, after all, an alien disease," First Aid replies. The next chance he gets to, he's going to be asking Cross these exact questions. First Aid comes to a crawling stop in front of the 22 foot tall alien. "Hi there, you must be Dr. Strardigarvarius. I'm glad we're finally getting to meet in person." Long distance comm channels just aren't the same. "I am First Aid, and this is Ms. Amber MacKenzie and Corporal Noah Wolfe." He lets them both say 'hi'. "And the fellow behind me is Hardhead and Duros." Aid drives on in per request, leaving the question of credit to Amber, who's funding this trip.

Amber MacKenzie exits the ambulance, murmuring quiet thanks to First Aid for the ride. She peeked inside the Medical Center when she first arrived on the Swordfish over a week ago, so it's not entirely unfamiliar to her. As many of the persons present are much larger than her, she keeps to the walls for her own safety. "How do you do, sir," she politely greets the Violin doctor. "I'll be handling the monetary aspect of this treatment, and you can check with the Swordfish hospitality unit as to my credit."

Hardhead continues to make his way towards the Hospital. He looks over towards the 22-foot Alien. He shoots the alien a glare as he makes his way behind First Aid. His optics constantly scanning the area, his fist clenched by his side as his scowl deepens on his features.

Strardigarvarius makes sure everyone is inside before he steps in himself, sealing the door behind him... well, it's more of a flap, but thanks to advanced alien technology, it seals itself airtight once closed. The doctor pauses to check his datapad, tapping away at it, and watching the screen intently. "Hmmm... yes, your credit *is* good, my dear. Well! Let us get started. I believe your unfortunate Marissa Faireborn has Strauchlor's Reaving, a potent and horrific disease that is very difficult to treat. It affects various species differently, but, I have cured several planets of the disease, so you might say I'm getting a knack for it!" He gestures to an empty table. "Please, put the patient there, would you?"

Noah Wolfe isn't about to be squished either, so he follows Amber along the walls keeping out of the bigger mechs and aliens. He watches in wonder at all the high tech gizmos and doodads wishing he could have just five minutes alone in here.

Marissa Faireborn is finally as awake as she gets as she hears what the alien says and blinks at the news. Now how the hell did she get something like that and no one else around her or at the EDC base?

Hardhead stares at the Doctor as he diagnoses Marissa Faireborn with Strauchlor's Reaving. He looks over towards First Aid, a puzzled look on his face. He crosses his arms over his chest as he looks at Marissa Faireborn, giving her a firm nod.

Amber MacKenzie is wondering that, too, but lets First Aid, who's actually a doctor, ask the technical questions. She turns to check on Noah and gives him a rather sympathetic nod at his awe. She was just as thrilled at all the alien stuff on her first visit. Returning her attention to the doctors, she listens intently, expecting much of it to go over her head, but at least not all of it.

"Oh dear," First Aid says when he hears the name 'Strauchlor's Reaving'. He doesn't say that just because it sounds like a terrifying name for a disease, but rather because-- "--I've heard of that. I was stationed on Odessix once for a dozen years and their nearby moon had an outbreak." Aid is tempted to stop right there, but he's reminded what Amber had just said about telling Marissa the cold hard truth, "The disease swept through the lunar population... it was catastrophic." Moving along the empty table, his internal intercom says, "Alley oop, Marissa," before opening his rear doors and letting several spindly robotic hands move her bed onto the medical table.

Hardhead tilts his head back towards First Aid. "Catastrophic?" He asks, his voice tainted by concern. "That doesn't sound good." He shakes his head looking back at the Alien, then First Aid. His arms tighten around his chest.

Strardigarvarius sighs. "Yes, Odessix... damn shame, that planet. I got there when I could, but unfortunately, I was busy with another contract." He throws up his hands. "But here I am now! And I will try to save your friend... if it's not too late! Tell me..." He stoops over Marissa shining a pen light into both of her eyes. "How has she been treated thus far?..."

Marissa Faireborn is able to at least get herself for the most part up and moving but she moves slowly. The arms help her but there’s a look of frustration on her face as she climbs out of the back and is then carefully lifted to the table. She looks between the two doctors, "How did I get it and no one else on Earth seems to have it?"

Ambulance  transforms into robot mode, datapad already in hand, "I've compiled her recent medical history and treatment, including what Franklin sent to us." He sets the pad down next to Strardigarvarius so he can grab it once done staring into Marissa's eyes. Aid can still remember the news reports coming down to Odessix as the outbreak swept across their moon. All the panic and suffering was agonizing. "We had the same mystery on Odessix, actually," he tells Marissa, "At first the sick were brought planet-side for additional treatment, but for some reason it didn't catch on there like you'd expect. At the time we thought we were just really lucky."

Amber MacKenzie hasn't heard of this, of course, but she can see First Aid is deadly serious. "Bloody hell. The quarantine measures that Cross had her under were careless at best. Or maybe he deliberately wanted me to be exposed to it. How is it communicated, Doctor? Bodily fluids? Water contamination? Both?"

Hardhead looks between the others, watching their reactions. He nods his head slowly as the reality is bringing to push through the first of many armor layers that protect Duros. He looks over at Amber, his military scanners performing a quick scan. He couldn't tell anything, but he had to do something.

Strardigarvarius gives a simple shrug as he opens Marissa's mouth, using a tongue depressor so he can look down her throat. "Hmmm... the infection vector is something of a mystery! It is believed to be transmittable through liquids. Yes, bodily fluids are a likely vector... water contamination less likely, still possible, however. You can be just fine one moment, never realizing you've exposed yourself, then suddenly you're sick!" He picks up the datapad First Aid set down, scowling at it. "Pfah... antibiotics? This is no Terran bacteria, it's *far worse.* Still, they seemed to slow it down a bit. Damn, THIS many drugs? No wonder you never seemed to feel better, Marissa. How'd you fit that many medicines into that tiny body of yours?"

Strardigarvarius twirls his cane as he reviews the datapad.

First Aid glances at Amber, "He might not have known anymore than we did. I definitely don't think he's the type to go for extraterrestrial assistance if he can avoid it." To Strardigarvarius he says, "Well, a lot of them are to combat the side effects of each other. Have you ever seen Strauchlor's in a class eight humanoid before?" he asks him. Class eight includes humans and Nebulons, naturally.

Marissa Faireborn blinks as the light is shone in her eyes, grumbling about the penlight of doom (name that character) and listens intently as she can in her exhausted state. "I fit them in because that's all I ate it seemed and slept them off."

Hardhead lowers his optics on the alien doctor, his gaze hard and cold. He looks back at First Aid. "The tragedy here, is that the EDC felt they couldn't trust us with her care in the first place." He lets out a sigh. "We should inform Cross. There are innocent humans who may have also contracted this plague...*treating* the General." His voice adds skepticism to the word Treating.

Once again, Amber has to bite her tongue. Earth's political and morality problems are no business of Dr. Violin's, so no biting commentary on Cross's morals or lack thereof. Nor does she object to Hardhead's legitimate points. No, she takes the easy route and just mentally castigates Franklin Cross.

"To be fair-" Argh, First Aid thinks, I'm really getting into a bad habit of justifying everything Cross does, "-we're no better at treating humans than the humans are." He gestures at Strardigarvarius, "The only thing we've done better is being willing to reach out for even more help when we need it." He nods slowly, optics wide, at the idea of a Strauchlor's Reaving outbreak being a terrifying idea.

"A class eight humanoid?" Strardigarvarius says. "No! But a class *12,* yes." It's sort of like a slightly taller but wider human which is always voiced by Frank Welker. Even the females. "Well, I can't blame this Mr. Cross, really! I mean, you *are* robots, hahaha! Oh, yes, I have medidroid assistants, yes, but I wouldn't trust them with *serious* work, oh, no. Ha! Hopefully, though, no other humans will be infected. If they are, you know how to contact me!" He reaches for a nearby tray and carefully withdraws a needle. It's small to him but terrifyingly big for a normal human.

Marissa Faireborn was absolutely silent through all of this, still not sure of what was being said. Of course her fogged up brain was struggling a bit to comprehend everything. First Aid and Amber could explain things later. That's what a Secretary and Doctor were for. But she seemed...awed? by the extremely TALL alien doctor in front of her, still having to look UP at him. But then she saw the needle and blanched.

Hardhead looks at First Aid. "We should be allies with the humans. Yes, we didn't do better." He points at Amber. "But together, *WE*, Autobots and Humans found a way to get some kind of treatment to her." He hands his head. "We are not perfect First Aid, maybe the humans are right to want us gone. But, we have to give friendship another chance." His voice is tainted with organic, warm tones. He looks at First Aid. "We have to tell Cross. We can judge his reaction to see if he did this to the General, at the very least." He shakes his head. "Primus...we should tell them, because it is the right thing."

Amber MacKenzie sighs regretfully. "I have to agree with Hardhead and Duros," She recognizes those tones. "in that Cross should be informed, whether or not he's responsible. If only so that humanity knows that a cure is available should it appear again. Especially as it seems subject to pandemics. Doctor, can we mass-produce your cure if needed?"

First Aid watches nervously as Strardigarvarius pulls out a needle so large it woul be comical in any other situation. Fortunately he knows Marissa's tough enough to handle anything. Right, Marissa? Right. The Protectobot takes a spare seat and finds himself nodding repeatedly at all of Hardhead's points. "You're right. None of this would have happened if Autobots and humans didn't work together for this. If this- ahem, *when* this works out, maybe it'll even help change Cross's opinion on xenos."

Strardigarvarius sinks the needle into Marissa's leg, right through the bone! Argh! "Just one moment while I retrieve a sample from your bone marrow!" He idly hums to himself, withdrawing a small amount of red stuff. He eyes the contents before stepping over to a microscope, apparently preparing some slides for examination. He doesn't comment on the human politics.

Marissa Faireborn was NOT ready for that...really, she wasn't and let out a cry of pain as she felt the needle sink into her leg bone. What little color she had, had drained from her face and she actually looked white as a sheet. As soon as the needle was withdrawn, she clapped both hands to her leg and bit her lip to keep from saying something obscene. Finally she had enough strength to speak, "What...the hell did you ...inject me with!?" she gasped out. Huh? What was she talking about.

Hardhead looks at First Aid for a long moment. "I can't all the credit for this. Duros helps." He lets out a sigh as he misses the Doctor stabbing the General with the Large Needle. He lets out a sigh. "I guess we can't change the past, only work on the future..."

First Aid watches, despite how icky all that looks. He is a doctor, after all. He goes ahead and answers Marissa's question, "Bone marrow sample." Glancing at Strardigarvarius, he says, "If possible, a bit of warning before stabbing the patient?"

Strardigarvarius pauses, surprised. Then he turns back to Marissa. "Eh? Oh, no, I didn't inject you at all, I collected a sample! Now, relax while I examine this..." He eventually gets a bit of Marissa's marrow smeared on the slides, then puts them under the microscope. As he looks through it, he remarks, "Yes, yes, well, I think it's best to give the patient no time to think about the needles, personally."

Amber MacKenzie mutters something about Dr. Gregory House and bedside manners and then shuts up. She does give Marissa a sympathetic look, though.

Hardhead takes a couple of lumbering steps towards First Aid as he leans towards the Doctor and whispers towards him.

Hardhead nods to First Aid.

Marissa Faireborn shakes her head, "No! I saw you! You..you h..hit the p..p..plunger when you drove t..that damned thing in my l..leg. I c..c...c..could feel the pressure! Wha...." She couldn't finish her sentence as she started to look suddenly pale again and she began sweating. She let go of her leg and laid back, quickly rolling to her side.

First Aid doesn't comment on that theory of bedside manners, but once he and Hardhead have a quick aside he asks the doctor, "How long until we'll have a firm diagnosis and treatment plan laid out?" As Marissa freaks out, Aid steps forward, "Wait, plunger? Doctor, let me see that needle." Aid will reach for it if he doesn't get it.

Strardigarvarius had carelessly set the needle to his side, and while he had reached for it when First Aid asked for it, First Aid got to it first! "Wait, er, hold on, now! You have to be careful with that, er, infected and all that! Haha. Now, seriously, give that back, the patient's getting worse, and I have to discover the cause of her illness!"

Hardhead looks at Marissa, who yells in pain and rants about a plunger. Seeing as Hardhead is already in a foul mood, he doesn't waste time with the pleasantries as he pulls out both of his Shatterblasters and revs up his shoulder mounted cannon, all of which he points at the Doctor. "Give it to First Aid." He doesn't even bother with the threat.

Strardigarvarius reaches for the syringe, but stops when Hardhead aims his weapons at him. He scowls.

"I thought you already diagnosed her, Doctor," Amber says coldly, drawing her pistol. But since Hardhead's guns are lots bigger, she replaces hers. "I wonder if I should contact Backtalk and let him have this wonderful story on the great Dr. Strardigarvarius's incompetence... or treachery. You'd never get another credit from anyone in the galaxy."

Hardhead stares at the Doctor, his optic bar burns around the edges, any hint of friendliness is long gone. "If you have something to say, you had better say it now. Because if First Aid, doesn't like what he sees...there won't be much time for talking."

Marissa Faireborn’s heart feels like it's racing a little faster as she feels hot then cold chills. "...might..be sick...not...not blind..." she mumbles, sounding exhausted.

First Aid takes the needle away and turns from Strardigarvarius, holding it up to the light. One of his optics suddenly telescopes into a microscope as it zooms in. "Hey, there /is/ some kind of substance in here! What's the big idea?!" Even as he demands this, he doesn't turn back to Strardigarvarius. Hardhead should be enough to restrain the 'good doctor' should it be needed. Aid instead focuses on trying to figure out what the unexpected yellow stuff is at the top of the plunger.

Amber MacKenzie muses, "Maybe the good doctor is the *source* of this bacteria. Maybe he makes a living off of infecting planets and heroically finding the cure." My, my, she has a devious mind. She might even be right. "Or did someone contact you and offer to buy the bacteria?"

Strardigarvarius chuckles to himself, eyes closed. "Hm hm hm, well, you've got me. Well deduced, my dear human. Reporter, aren't you? I guess I'll let you in on the secret. Strauchlor's Reaving is what I like to call a 'controlled' disease. It spreads to whom I wish and as severely as I like, and I can increase or decrease its ferocity with carefully administered chemicals to a planet's water supply. I can even cure it outright. I've got the cure on my own person, of course, just in case I infect myself. It's been a good scam, really. Infect a planet, or a person, and offer myself as the sole source of a cure, and make a *killing.*" He grins wolfishly. "Oh, but I've got to defend my reputation, so I'm afraid that I can't let any of you walk out of here alive." A pale green vial appears in his left hand like a card from the sleeve of a gambler. He seems about to toss it on the ground...

Hardhead stares at the Doctor, his mouth turned down into a scowl. He levels all of his weapons at Strardigarvarius's head. "Someone grab the vial." He intones, coldly as his fingers pulls around the triggers of his Shatterblaster's and his shoulder mounted cannon hums to life as a shell is loaded into it. "There is only one way you live, Doctor."

Strardigarvarius smirks at Hardhead. "You won't shoot." He makes a sudden downward motion with the hand holding the vial--

Marissa Faireborn might be sick but she sees the vial in his hand and its pretty damned big for her little frame, but all those years of military training are absolutely ingrained in her brain and her friends are in danger. She's sick anyway and if this jerk gets away....she might as well die with no luck of a cure. She dives off the table and makes a grab for the vial, hoping to wrap herself around it and cushion its fall to keep it from breaking. "NO!!!!"

Sparks erupt all around Hardhead's neck as his head seems to rip from his shoulders, The head quickly unfolds and uncoils into the shape of an organic man who dives underneath the vial. The larger robot, takes a step backwards, before falling backwards and laying on the ground, his weapons rest limply in his hands and his shoulder cannon powers down.

First Aid's scans of the needle definitely show *something*, and it's quickly clear that Strardigarvarius is telling the truth. Aid's optics widen at the horror of the evil alien doctor's plan. Were this not a crisis situation he'd feel sick to his fuel tank. This monster has killed /how/ many?! The images of Odessix come flooding back to him. Aid whirls around as Strardigarvarius moves to hurl the vial down, but isn't in position to stop it. Fortunately Hardhead--or rather Duros--leaps into action!

Amber MacKenzie eyes the vial. If he tosses it, she'll attempt to catch it, but she's hoping he's coward enough not to risk instant death. As the standoff continues for a few seconds more, she begins to move forward, but others are closer. As both Marissa and Duros dive for the vial, and Hardhead falls back, she pulls out her pistol again. *Someone* has to cover the doctor... and maybe execute him. No, damn it, she wants to know if Cross is involved. So she'll aim for something less fatal.

 Blades says, "Got the brig ready, First Aid."

 Blades knows where everything is! Cough.

 First Aid says, "Thanks Blades. Galen, you might want to brush up on your inter-galactic criminal law."

Strardigarvarius evidently had no fear of the vial's contents as he continues to throw it down to the ground... but alas, a squishy human and suited Nebulan catch the vial before it smashes on the floor! "Oh, bloody hell. Plan B, then! Kill everyone on the ship! Bio-Agent in the air vents ought to do it!" He hops up and over Hardhead's prone form, trying to make for the exit!

Amber MacKenzie fires, and she has no qualms about shooting someone in the back, though she's trying for the equivalent of kneecaps. To her dismay, she misses. That's what she gets for trying for a nonfatal shot!

Duros optics widen as he watches Marissa snatch the vial out of the air, his cheer leaves him as he realizes there is nothing to protect the General from the ground. Quickly he reaches out with his arms, to slide him under Marissa as he rolls his body under her, allowing him to hit the ground first, and her to land on top of him. A loud thud rings out as Duros hits the hard floor, the General in hand. His faceplate slides back, revealing his blushing face. "I'm not usually this forward" He offers with a hint of humor. "You ok, General Faireborn?" He asks.

Meanwhile, Hardhead lies prone on the ground as the General traipses past him. The Autobot's systems are still recovering from the shock of Duros leaving him, so violently and suddenly.

First Aid wouldn't execute Strardigarvarius. No matter what he's done, he needs a trial. Executing him here is something *Cross* would do. Shoving the needle into a hip compartment to save as evidence. A gunshot rings out (Aid thinks it's from Amber but with all the confusion...) but Strardigarvarius is still moving. Drawing on a move Streetwise taught him, the Protectobot lunges for the alien, grabbing at his arm and twisting it around his back to hold it in place. Wait, is this type of alien susceptible to that kind of hold? "You're not going anywhere, Violen!" Aid says angrily. "One more move and Hardhead is getting his way. Understand?!"

Amber MacKenzie pulls out and switches on her camcorder. Anything else happening here is being recorded. "Smile for the camera, Dr. Idiot. It's going directly to satellite." She suspects he'll try to play the victim, so that's a lie, but he doesn't know it. "I'm going to see if there's recording equipment in here... There *should* be for insurance purposes."

Marissa Faireborn feels her arms grab the green vial, then feels arms grab her and someone cushioned her fall since she had managed to twist around to land on her back and cradle the vial. It came as a bit of a shock and she grunted a little then was panting. "Thank you..." she said laying limply for a moment, before suddenly jerking up and rolling off of the one that caught her, leaving the vial next to him as she staggered somewhere and threw up as she sank to her knees. There was very little for her to throw up however, more like dry heaves...

 First Aid says, "First Aid to any Autobots on the Swordfish, we need you to block off the medical ward. Get the Swordfish's security to help if you have to."

 Grimlock says, "How 'bout Casino ward? 'cuz me Grimlock in FITE."

 Grimlock says, "In Casino."

 Grimlock says, "Is pretty fun."

 First Aid says, "I hate to say it Grimlock but this is way more important."

 Blades says, "Uh, I'm in Metroplex, holding down the brig. It'll... take me a long time to get to the Swordfish."

Strardigarvarius mulls over his options. "Well. Death, or disgrace? If those are my choices, I choose death!" With a violent, savage yank, he pulls himself free of First Aid, kicking the quarantine wall open. He seems about to throw himself out the door, and is even smiling. He's so close--!

 First Aid says, "Well phone up the Swordfish Command and make sure nobody leaves, at least!"

 Blades does his best phone jockey impression. There is exciting Muzak as he is put on hold.

 First Aid says, "Ugh! Well can we get the Orion Pax to move into position, at least? Is Omega Supreme on Earth by any chance?"

 Loadout says, "I am on board the Swordfish as part of the medical staff. It would help if we knew what was going on, First Aid."

<Autobot> Amber MacKenzie says, "We have a deadly biological weapon about to be released if Dr. Strardigarvarius gets out of the Medical bay."

<Autobot> Grimlock says, "Good thing me Grimlock no organics!"

<Autobot> Grimlock says, "Uh. Wait."

<Autobot> First Aid says, "We have an alien who's a confirmed criminal named Strardigarvarius Violen. He cannot be allowed to leave the ship."

<Autobot> Sit-Com says, "Que pasa?"

<Autobot> Blades says, "Uh. Can you just dump him into space by putting a hole through the wall?"

Duros looks at the vial and quickly snatches it up as he returns to his feet. He looks at The General, wincing as she continues to be sick. He takes a step towards her, before remembering. "Hardhead..." He says softly. Quickly he makes his way over towards his companion. With his freehand, he opens a panel and begins to flip a series of switches and levers, causing the prone robot to slowly grind into his tank mode.

Hardhead emits a low rumble as his turret comes to life, the shell already loaded. Duros begins to back away as Hardhead's cannon warms up and lets loose a blast. Duros screams out, "First Aid! DUCK!"

<Autobot> Grimlock says, "Me Grimlock like that plan!"

<Autobot> Blades says, "Anyway, Omega Supreme's on Cybertron, but I'll see about the Orion Pax..."

<Autobot> Amber MacKenzie says, "Quarantine us so at least no one else has to die!"

<NEST> First Aid says, "General Cross, do you have any ships near the Swordfish?"

<NEST> Franklin Cross says, "First Aid, we do. What do you need?"

<NEST> First Aid says, "Ah... it might not matter now. We had a criminal attempting to flee but we've, um, managed to apprehend him."

<NEST> Franklin Cross says, "Oh, I see. Well, keep me updated."

As First Aid struggles and loses against Strardigarvarius, he's frantically trying to get help from his fellow Autobots... and eventually Cross as well. Aid stumbles forward as the alien breaks loose, falling onto his hands and knees. Aid gets back up, but he's more focused on trying to organize assistance for getting this guy before he can flee the solar system.

Strardigarvarius was just out the door, then--SPLUTCH! A fountain of purple blood sprays out of the new hole in his chest, courtesy of Hardhead. Strardigarvarius tumbles out into the medical bay proper, alien doctors and nurses staring in shock. Strardigarvarius slumps to his knees, staring at himself. Then, he smiles, reaches into one of his pockets, and falls flat on his face.

Marissa Faireborn has luckily not managed to throw up anything but the blood still leaking from the wound from the needle puncture got on her hands, now on the floor, in bloody handprints, and as well as one knee of her pants is bloody which is leaving marks on the ground. She's simply stayed where she is, only focused on being sick as her body shakes with the sweats, getting cold and then hot. Her weakened state caused her to be so susceptible to the dosage of the virus the doctor had given her as it courses through her faster than ever.

First Aid rushes after Strardigarvarius, but is too slow. "No!" he calls out as the alien doctor is blasted from behind. Not that Hardhead shot him, but that the shot looks very mortal. Aid is on the alien in an instant, first moving his hand away from whatever he was reaching for, and then trying to put the alien back together. His medical kit is out in a flash. Hey, trauma surgery, this is what First Aid is actually *good* at. First Aid is so busy concentrating on saving Strardigarvarius he isn't immediately aware of Marissa.

Duros makes his way towards First Aid, holding the vial out towards the Autobot Medic. "First Aid! Leave him! General Faireborn needs you!" He looks at the hole in the Doctor. "He needs a preacher, anyways." Duros mumbles a quiet prayer over the Doctor.

Amber MacKenzie walks slowly out of the quarantine and glares at the staring alien doctors and nurses. "Your DEAR colleague just poisoned his patient and tossed a vial of something deadly at us. Someone take charge and isolate the substance before it kills someone. Someone else help tend to his patient. He also has a cure for Strauchlor's Reaving on him somewhere. Move! You're doctors, not fish!"

It seems that Strardigarvarius had been reaching for another vial. Hm, this one's colored green. Could it be more poison, or something else? And First Aid will see something else in the crowds outside the medbay as the doors push open and security stomps in. A human, with very close cut hair, baseball cap, and sunglasses. He presses two fingers against his ear as he mutters something to... himself? Then he walks away.

"What's going on here?" the security droids demand in the best commanding tones they've been programmed with.

Strardigarvarius, meanwhile, is stone cold dead.

First Aid is drawn in three different ways. First, he wants to save Strardigarvarius. Second, he wants to save Marissa. Third, he wants to find out who the heck that guy in the ballcap is clearly muttering into his radio. An agent for Cross? "H-ey, who... Hardhead, Amber, who is that guy?" Before he can get an answer, Aid's first problem bleeds out beneath him. He knows there's nothing else that can be done for him. The second problem remains, though, and First Aid rushes to Marissa's side to do what he can for her, unmindful of the security droids as they burst in. Hardhead and Amber will have to deal with them also.

Duros slowly walks back to Hardhead and gives his friend an apologetic shrug as he leaps into the sky as the tank lifts up into his robot form, the pair join once more, but this time...sparks fly at the edges, forcing the headmaster to jostle his skull before he rolls his head to each side. He looks at the Security Guards. "There was an accident, during repairs." The robot stares coldly at the Security Guard. He pauses to look at Amber for a moment. As he steps towards the guards. "I assume you have questions for me?" He asks of them.

Marissa Faireborn is bent double, her forehead touching the cold tile floor of the medical facility while her stomach revolts and her condition slowly deteriorates. She's huddled like that, on her knees, one arm across her stomach as another rests against the floor next to her head, keeping her steady. She's sweating buckets, trembling... She looks utterly miserable as she continues to try and throw up what isn't there....until finally there is something to throw up, coming up red.... blood.

Hardhead sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: See what you can find from the body and then protect the General.

"Affirmative," one of the drones says, staring down at Duros. "Please explain the incident which transpired here."

The mysterious human, meanwhile, is long gone.

Hardhead looks at The Drone. "The Doctor attempted to repair my cannon." Hardhead motions towards his cannon. "He carelessly set it off." He says calmly.

Hardhead sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Also, get Hubcap to fix the tapes.

Amber MacKenzie isn't real anxious to touch the deceased, but more from distaste for the guy than for the blood. Letting Hardhead handle the security drones, she searches him, finding the green vial and much, much more. Several sets of two vials, labeled with mysterious but related numbers. The green vial is the only one not one of a set. Hmmmmmm. "You!" She points to one of the doctors. "Does this label mean anything to you?" Now she points to the green vial.

First Aid kneels next to Marissa on the floor. He doesn't pick her up just yet, but is instead running a scan. Think, First Aid! What would Strardigarvarius have injected her with? Despite his evil scheme, his plan was to /cure/ her, not make her more sick! Unless it's to make her more sick and extort more money? Bah, it's impossible to tell what exactly he was planning. First Aid's optics widen as Marissa coughs up blood. "The cure... he said he had the cure on him and for his plan to work it must have been true. Amber, that might be it!" he points at the green vial.

The drone scans the corpse of the doctor for a moment, then pivots back at Duros. "Subject identified as Dr. Strardigarvarius. Known for some mechanical lifeform treatments, but specializes in biological treatments. Estimated chance of deception at 34.56."

An alien doctor steps up to the green vial. "Huh... no, I have never seen anything like that before. Cure? What? Oh my. Well, you may want to test it on a sample, first, if it is indeed a cure!"

It so happens that Strardigarvarius had already prepared a sample on the microscope!

Hardhead stares daggers at the drone. "I am half-organic you, calculator." He bangs on his head. "My targeting interface runs through my organic part. Hence why I needed the good Doctor. A real shame, he didn't live. Now, I will have to find a new doctor. And my health care plan sucks." Hardhead intones to the Drone.

Amber MacKenzie suspected as much, but was hoping for ironclad proof. Time to take a calculated risk. "Right. Thank you, Doctor. I'll ask that you please investigate the rest of these vials, under quarantine protocols." With that, she picks up the rather large vial and carries it as quickly as she can manage without risking breaking it. "Coming, First Aid!"

First Aid wishes there were two of him. One to comfort Marissa and one to figure out if this cure is legit. "Amber, see to Marissa," he says, gently taking the vial from her. Amber will have to be Second Aid for now. As loathe as he is to leave Marissa right now, the Protectobot stands up and rushes over to the sample Strardigarvarius prepared. This is really haphazard science, but Marissa looks like she isn't going to survive long, so this is their best bet. Aid applies the potential cure to the sample.

The drone processes that remark. "Re-Calculating. Estimated chance of deception at 10.32. Probability too low for an arrest. However, you will remain in contact with Swordfish security services or the Autobots will be subject to a severe fine for disturbing the peace." It turns and stomps away.

Under the microscope, First Aid can see that the mysterious liquid has an immediate effect! The bacteria, parasites, whatever they are, they whither up and die quickly upon contact. Though, oddly enough, First Aid can see that the disease is actually seeking out the little particles of the medicine!

Amber MacKenzie sets the vial down and hastens to Marissa's side. "Hang in there, lady. The end is in sight." She gently turns the sick woman on her side, so she doesn't drown in her own blood. There's nothing to be done for the coughing other than to strip off her jacket, roll it into a bundle, and let Marissa cling to that to at least ease the jolting of it. "Just hang in there... We think we have the cure, and First Aid will have it ready in a minute."

Meanwhile, the alien doctor is alarmed by what Amber said. "Quarantine? Oh, my!" But they do as she asks, and soon medidroids are sealing Strardigarvarius's body up in a plastic bag and carefully carrying it away. Another droid sprays something at the bloodstains. Probably a disinfectant.

Marissa Faireborn whimpers and even after the hit and run accident that put her out of commission with broken bones, she'd never felt this miserable in all of her life. She would have begged for someone to knock her out if she could have spoken but there was no chance of that at the moment though she at least had the presence of mind to try and keep turtled up, to keep Amber away from anything that might get on her. It was all the brain power she had at the moment.

Makes sense, First Aid decides. The disease and the cure are designed for each other, and so the disease deliberately seeks out the cure in order to wipe itself out. Aid would be impressed if it wasn't used for such a horrific scheme. There's millions of lifeforms' blood on Violen's hands. The doctor, knowing he doesn't have time for further tests, whips around and steps back to Marissa, cure in hand. "Hold her still, Amber," he says before injecting the true EDC Leader.

Amber MacKenzie sends a radio message to Hardhead: I'm kinda busy. Could you talk to Hubcap instead? I do want that recording, so the galaxy will know who's behind all those epidemics. Damn him, he's a worse monster than Galvatron.

Hardhead sends a radio message to Amber MacKenzie: Understood and agreed.

Hardhead nods his head towards the Drone. "Of course." He follows the drone towards the edge of the room, until he comes to the door. He props his frame into the door, making sure there are no more visitors and more importantly, to make sure no one leaves, he looks at the Nurse. "Yes, Quarantine."

Marissa Faireborn just let herself be moved a little by Amber, her stomach muscles already beginning to ache and cramp...There was no matter of holding her still as just injecting her and getting it over with. Nothing seems to happen for a while but slowly, very slowly, her body begins to relax as the heaves lessen and then stop. By now, her eyes are closed and she's just trembling from the pure exertion of it all on her system. Her skin is still cool to the touch but at least she's no longer clammy...but it takes a little while to get her to this state.

MEANWHILE, IN A SECURE TRANSMISSION BETWEEN TWO UNKNOWN INDIVIDUALS...

"Command, Strardigarvarius Violen is dead. The Autobot Hardhead killed him as he appeared to be trying to escape the medical center."

"Status of Faireborn?"

"Unknown."

"Understood. Keep the medical center under surveillance."

"Acknowledged."

================================== Autobot =================================== Message: 3/129                    Posted        Author Olympics : Accident               Tue Sep 04    Hardhead -- *TEXT ONLY*

Autobots, this evening while Grimlock was securing us victory in his fight against Cyclonus, and Sideswipe and Smokescreen were valiantly defending our honor in the Demolition Derby, there was an accident in the Medical Bay onboard the Swordfish.

A medical doctor accidently, discharged my weapon resulting in an fatality. If it wasn't for the quick thinking of First Aid and Amber MacKenzie, the disaster could have been a lot worse. I do not suspect sabotage, but First Aid is in charge of the investigation and I am sure he will come to the bottom of this misunderstanding. I have put in both First Aid and Amber MacKenzie for the Autobot Medal of Civil Service, Rank 2.

I apologize for using up our goodwill with our most gracious hosts, but we are going to need to be on our best behavior or we risk expulsion from these Olympic Games. No Funny Business. I am currently confined to the Swordfish pending the investigation, so if you need me. I will be there.

Additionally, I have authorized Noah Wolfe to have access to our communication systems, please extend him every curtsey as he recovers from his injuries suffered during the Decepticon Attack.

*ENCODED* Autobots, we need to prepare the Ark for Human needs. We are planning to have a visitor there very shortly.

*HIGHLY ENCRYPTED*

All Autobots, keep your optics open for any suspicious Humans wearing Black Baseball Caps and Speaking into their Wrists, they may be alien imposters proceed with caution. If you spy one, contact First Aid, Repugnus, or myself. *End Report*

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