"So, Episkopos, you say this Med Force One ship can transfer us aboard directly? We won't need to shuttle over?" Zeb Carter occupied the "hot seat" on the Chapel's bridge. As Gran Canaria came into visual range, the great looming bulk of the converted Juggernaut could be seen in geostationary orbit above the planet.
Zeb's wife Dejah Thoris, or "Deety" for short, merely stared at the Juggy. "Holy Emerald City, she's a monster!", said the Co-pilot.
"That's right, Zeb", said Mal, observing closely as the veteran military pilot gently matched orbits with Med Force One. "They've made it as convenient as possible to transfer trauma victims between ships. Hildy, would you announce us please?"
"Aye Aye, Episkopos!" The Comms Officer opened a channel to MF1's bridge. "Med Force One, this is Hilda Burroughs aboard Chapel Perilous, requesting orbital transfer of 11 crew and passengers for an appointment with Chief Medical Officer Tesh."
"Welcome, Chapel. We've been expecting you. This is Cmdr. Haddock. Please align with Portal 7. We're extending the transfer corridor now. Your E-Prime will be happy to learn that Doctor Holliday is aboard. There may even be some lunch left."
"Acknowledged, sir. Oh, and we're also requesting a tug pilot for the Chapel. It appears we're all on your list to be poked and prodded, Commander."
"Oh, and aren't we all joyful about that!" muttered Jacob Burroughs under his breath as the clang of magnetic grapples sounded through the Geisha's hull. Malaclypse smiled at his new Science Officer's terse pun.
"As long as they don't give us those drafty gowns that let our butts hang out for the world to see, eh, Jake? Hilda, tell our Deacons to dock directly on MF1's hangar deck. Oh, and up here on the bridge, it's just 'Mal', okey? You can save the Episkopos noise for services or formal occassions."
"Let's go aboard then." continued Malaclypse. "The sooner we begin, the sooner we can get this travelling circus on the road again!"
Cid winged up to the Med-Forces docking bays and pushed the docking procedure initiation code. Leaving the ship's computers to handle the maneuver he took the chance to admire the craftsmanship that went into the medical vessel. He'd heard it was the most advanced in the entirety of Sirius, and looking at it, he could well believe it.
"This is Deacon Nasrudin requesting clearance for docking." He blurted
into the comms as he prepared to leave the fighter. "I got an appointment."
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Malaclypse and his people entered the main traffic area between the command and hospital sections of the ship. Greeting them was Commander Haddock himself along with a security officer. As the Commander spoke with them, John Holliday himself entered from the hospital corridor. He was in his doctor's whites with a stethescope around his neck.
"I hope I'm not late, Commander," he said to all present, "I just came out of surgery." He then sighed, "At least one bounty hunter will live to fight another day."
He then began shaking hands, "Mal, it great to see you again. I don't know how much of this fine ship you've been able to see. It's fully self sustaining so there will be a lot to see."
He turned to his Commander, "James, join us. I'm sure there will be command questions I don't have answers to. We'll start in the hospital area first."
The party walked through the doorway into the hospital section. Per usual, it was bustling with activity. Medical staff were moving patients from point to point and many of the surgical wards were in use.
"Gentlemen, this is the busiest part of the ship," Doc explained, "we operate on at least a dozen people daily but most often, more than that. Ninety percent of those who come here are discharged back to a normal life. We're proud of that accomplishment. We have high security areas for patients who are considered a risk for whatever reason as well."
As they walked, Doc continued, "we have a full research lab elsewhere that researches everything from bloodwork to Nomads. We have a full maternity ward, on board school and quarters for crew and visitors alike and the place where everyone likes to end a day, The Pleasantview Lounge. We'll visit that shortly."
The group stopped for a moment, "before we continue on, any requests or questions?"
The new crew and congregation of the Chapel Perilous seemed in awe of the huge vessel, so no questions were forthcoming. Commander Haddock continued the tour of the mobile hospital's vast interior. Mal followed along quietly.. anxious to get the workups done on his new "Flock".
Suddenly, Mal remembered the note Doc had left for him aboard the Chapel before leaving Yukon. He gently took his old friend's arm for a moment, and they let the rest of the group continue.. promising to catch up in the Pleasantview after the tour.
"John Henry, you mentioned in your note that you had some new data on the Scrubbies? Let's take a few moments in your office, if you don't mind. And good Lordess, don't publish any findings until Reggie updates our current Patents on the little buggers, eh?"
Doc paused a moment before motioning Mal towards an ascending "ladder", or stairway. "My office is this way, Episkopos. I'll have the data uploaded to my desk terminal. I think you'll find this interesting."
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The stairway led to another corridor. Eventually, after many turns and changes in elevation, they found themselves before a large set of blast doors. Doc turned to his friend, "Behind these doors is where my greatest work is. Only maybe a dozen people on the ship are allowed inside."
Before the door was a Klingon guard. While he looked at the guests, he paid no mind to them. Doc then entered a code into a keypad and then spoke out in Latin. The doors then opened and the party entered to find another set of doors. Again, he did the same but this time, the doors led to a laboratory.
Inside were labs that few only could dream about. One are had a robotics lab where the latest in artificial limbs were created and tested before being sent out to where "everyone else" saw them. Research on Nomads was also another big lab. While there were others, Doc escorted Mal to one that he had been using.
Inside, he pointed to a tank. "Mal, these are where I keep some scrubbies for research purposes. Now, you may think it's mean with what I do with them but it's a project I see much value in if I'm successful. Scrubbies can be trained to "eat" various substances, germs, viruses and such by infecting them with it. They attack whatever it is they are infected with, eventually overdosing and killing themselves but the waste they give off as a result is a powerful anti-body."
He then pulled up some results on a com screen, "As you can see, not every effort was successful but many have been."
In his studying of the screen, Mal would notice "cardamine" in the mix but also noted that the file was closed and potentially moved.
Mal studied the data for a few moments before replying to Doc. "I've had my suspicions that our little friends could cure more than a bad hangover, John; but this is huge, my friend!" Doc just smiled and nodded.
"You say the Scrubbies can be 'trained' to recognize other harmful organisms. I think the big question we need to pursue is this: Does 'training' imply the ability of our Baffin natives to 'learn', which in turn implies some level of sentience?
"And, if the Scrubbies are indeed sentient at some level, is it a genetic trait, or have the energies focused in the Baffin system and the Geode somehow caused our Scrubbies to evolve?"
Doc and Mal continued to discuss their "pet" theories as they returned to Commander Haddock and
Mal's "congregation", who were just concluding their tour at the Pleasantview Lounge. Doc spoke to the group once they were all seated.
"Mal, I think we can have the workups on your Flock done in two days. I'll instruct Doctor Tesh to expedite your people. Once we have your baseline, I'll have the records transferred to Commander Cole aboard Med Force Two, as I know you're anxious to get back to Baffin."
Mal beamed at his old friend. "Thank you, John Henry! I'm sure MF2 is more than adequate for the ongoing studies I have planned. Once I've held a few more 'Revival Meetings', hopefully we'll have a large enough control group of 'homo neophile' individuals to provide meaningful data over time."
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As they sat over drinks in Pleasantview, Doc made a point clear to his friend, "Mal, a lot of my work is but a beginning for scrubbies. I have much more work to do and what you saw in the lab is but a sample. My real work is in a place that no one can get to, no one can bombard from space and the only other person who knows of it is my own wife and she would die before she gave up that info. Even then it's, well, near impossible to get into."
He then leaned forward a bit and whispered, "I'll take you there in the near future."
"As to your work and quarter, I've arranged it," he explained, "you will have what you need and if it helps, shuttles run to and from the planet on the hour every hour."
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Location: Planet Cambridge, Cambridge Medical Institute
It was a long time coming for such a young lady. She had been left for dead in an escape pod in Omega 41 with child as a teenager, endured a trial that saw her father banished from Rheinland, she gave up a smoking habit, studied aboard Med.Force.One and Canaria Medical and studied for the last many months at Cambridge Medical while being a good mother to her son. All of this she accomplished by the age of only 22. Now she walked tall, standing with others of her class to receive their doctorates.
Doreen Naggers, the young, proud, pretty red head, stood in waiting to officially become Dr. Doreen Naggers and to begin her next chapter as an intern. In the crowd was the man who stood by her, Dr. John Holliday himself. He stood close to the class in his robes and a smile of appreciation. With him was his chief medical officer, Dr. Edward Tesh.
One by one, each graduate received their doctorate. Most would receive it from the Institute President while other would receive them from a parent or well known official. For Doreen, she would get hers from John Holliday who was no stranger to the institute as he often taught or lectured there and would often take recurrent training there himself. The time had arrived.
"This next doctorate," began the President, "will be given by someone we all know." The President stood aside as John Holliday came forth and stood before Doreen. He just smiled. Doreen was trying to keep her composure. She breathed a bit heavy and wiped her eyes once.
The President announced her name to the crowd as John Holliday handed her her doctorate.
"Dr. Doreen Naggers, pediatrics," he announced. John handed it to her with his left hand as he shook with his right.
"Congratulations, Dr. Naggers," he said proudly.
"Thank you, Dr. Holliday," she replied.
With that, he returned to his seat.
After the ceremony, Doreen walked to her good friend, John Holliday and thanked him again. This time, however, she hugged him.
"I couldn't have done it without you," she said.
"Nonsense!" replied Doc, "You did the work. I just gave you the tools in which to do it."
She let go of him, thanked him again and hugged him again.
Once she let go, Doc continued. "Listen, I have arranged your internship at Canaria Medical so that you can raise Benjen on the planet. I've also arranged a place to live until you find something you want. Also, I have set up a bank account with a little....gift... Should you want a small ship or whatever, you will have something to start with."
The tears of joy fell as her nanny brought Benjen to her.
"Thank you," she said, "thank you all for this."
Doc took a moment to play a game with the toddler in Doreen's arms. He noticed the small toy he held, knowing where it came from but said nothing.
Later that evening, Doc treated her to a celebratory dinner. The next day, his staff helped her pack and she took residence at Gran Canaria.
"Set course for Baffin, Zeb. I'll round up the volunteers and have them back aboard in five."
"Aye aye, Episkopos. Deety has been chafing at the bit to go play amongst the crystals."
The visit to Med Force One had been a relaxing interlude, and very informative. Mal was now even more appreciative of the things Doc had accomplished in his "absence". He had not only created the finest medical facilities outside House space; but he had also become respected Sector-wide as a fair, honest, and reasonable diplomat for the TAZ and the Zoner community in general.
Mal chuckled to himself. Had he still been leading the TAZ, he'd have told Admiral Hale to put that worthless Treaty where the sun doesn't shine.... oh, well.
After a few miscues, he found his way to the bridge of the huge medical vessel, and paid his compliments to Commander Haddock for his hospitality. He then proceeded to Doctor Tesch's Office and conveyed his thanks.
Within moments he was in the lofty pilot house of the Geisha "Chapel.Perilous". As the docking umbilicus was released, he remembered a quick message he needed to punch up:
"Reggie. Mal here. What's going on with bloody Cambridge Stellar? I haven't heard a single word since they accepted the terms of our Grant. If I don't hear from of see them in Baffin within the week, you have my permission to freeze that bloody 240 Mil. See you in Baffin. M."
"All hands and Pineals aboard, E-prime," said Hilda from her Comms station as Mal handed her the message for Reg.
"Very well. Have Nas and Charlie lead the parade. Let's go home."
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Doc sat in Estate chambers, holding his video conference with the newly promoted Commander of Med.Force.Two, Sarah Coyle. She sat cross legged in a chair in her ship's ready room, a cup of coffee steaming at the side.
"I'm glad that you're OK, Doctor. I heard about the storms on Canaria," she started out saying.
"I do thank you for your concern, Sarah. Asides some minor damage around the Estate and Midori getting a bump on the head, we'll be fine here," Doc answered. He then continued, "I received a transmission from Freeport 1 requesting medical personnel there. As you know from our previous chats, I won't go to that cesspool of trouble and I still won't personally so what I'm going to do isn't an order but a question to which I will leave to your judgement. Whatever you decide, I will stand by your decision. Basically, if you want to make a trip to it, it's up to you."
Sarah sat silent in thought for a moment, taking a sip of her coffee in the process, "I see." She then joked with a grin, "asking me to do something that you yourself won't do. Isn't that one of your rules of leadership, never ask someone to do something that you yourself won't do?"
Doc just nodded, "Yes, it is." He also smiled back, realizing her humorous sarcasm.
She then continued, "Tell you what, Sir, allow me to seek permission of the Bretonians for passage. Let's see what kind of......response they give and then I'll decide."
Doc grinned, "I can see that you and I will be getting along just fine. Just let me know what your plan is."
"You will be the first to know," she replied, "if you have nothing else, I have a little request to make."
"Sarah, don't let me distract you. Doc out!"
With that, the transmission was cut. Doc then dealt with his issues which included checking on his wife's concussion.
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