Medical Research Mission

Who: Keto, Holly
Where: Keto's Office
When: The Morning After
=====================
There was a thump.
"I really have to move this damn desk," muttered Keto, crawling out
from underneath the offending object clutching his head in one hand
and an empty packet of peanuts in the other. Throwing the packet
across the room (well, trying to - empty packets don't throw too
well, and it merely fluttered to the floor), Keto slouched back in
his chair and closed his eyes, vowing never to touch anything salted
that came in packets across the bar again.
"Bing bong," said Holly's voice cheerily. Keto opened one
bloodshot eye and glared at the computer with it. Holly was
apparently not a connoisseur of single-eye evil looks, however, and
continued brightly, "What's up doc?" in a manner that Keto found far
too reminiscent of a certain late 20th-century cartoon character.
"Is that supposed to be FUNNY?" the doctor hissed. Holly shrugged,
a pretty clever manoeuvre without any shoulders.
"Maybe."
"What do you want, Holly?"
"I thought you should know," sniffed the head, "That we've picked
up a signal."
"What kind of signal?" asked Keto, his curiosity getting the better
of his aching head's desire to tell Holly to go away and stay there.
"An automated signal," replied Holly, "From an alien research
hospital. I thought that really I should tell you...though maybe I
should mention it to First Officer White Wolf...but I don't know
which one...or the captain...but he doesn't remember he's the
captain...or..."
"No, no!" said Keto, sobriety leaping back into full throttle as
his brain lit up like a Christmas tree, "Don't tell anyone other than
me! ...you haven't already, have you?"
"...uh..." said Holly. Keto, already straightening his jacket and
heading for the door, froze.
"What? Who have you told?"
"Well, I thought that any head of a medical-related department
should be told, so..."
"Holly," said Keto in a voice so cold that actual frost started to
form on the screen, "Did you tell Cerebrum?"
"He probably hasn't read the message yet!" said Holly quickly.
"Tell Coffey, Cleavage, Chrysler, Wildflower, Shakespeare..."
"Shakespeare isn't aboard the ship," interrupted the computer.
Keto sighed.
"Trisees, then...tell them all to get down to the shuttle bay
quickly and without telling anyone why they're going."
"But they don't know why they're going."
"Very good."
"...why ARE they going?" asked Holly slowly, after a pause. Keto
sighed.
"Because, Holly, if there is indeed an advanced alien medical
research facility, then it's likely it holds some advanced alien
medical equipment."
"Ah, I see! And you want to use that equipment to improve medical
facilities?"
"Uh, yes! Of course!" nodded Keto, the two words 'bank'
and 'balance' drifting across his mind, "Now be quiet and don't tell
anyone else about this!"
"One question," asked Holly. Inches from the door, Keto froze
again as the computer continued, "Who's going to fly the ship to take
you there?"
Keto didn't move.
-- Ten Minutes Later --
Jay chucked the basketball again, and muttered quietly as it
bounced off the ring once again. The muttering turned into a laugh,
however, as the rebounding ball caught Keto on the back of the head
as he entered.
"A shot that truly shows your piloting dexterity at its best,"
murmured Keto, headache exploding into full force again.
"What are you doing here?" asked Jay, grabbing the ball again.
Keto took a deep breath. This next thing, he knew, was going to
hurt more than anything he had ever done before. He had to prepare
himself for more humility and pain than had ever been felt previously.
"I want you," he said, "To do me a favour."
The ball bounced off across the floor.
"Excuse me?"
"I want you to fly a Starbug on a little research expedition," said
Keto through gritted teeth.
"Wait, wait, wait," said Jay, holding up one hand, "Let me get this
straight - YOU are asking ME for a favour?"
"Yes."
"Holly, are you getting this!?"
"Shh!" hissed Keto, "Be quiet! Listen, Chrysler, Mr Bestrom is
still a little under the weather, our newest addition to your
sterling department is a LOT under the weather, and I wouldn't trust
your four-armed compadre as far as you could throw him. Much as I
hate to say it, I need your help."
"Or?"
"Or I get your sister to try to fly myself and several helpless
civilians to our destination."
Jay paused for a moment, torn between the fact that this would very
likely kill Keto, and the fact that it would very likely kill
everyone aboard as well.
"I'm in."
"Meet down in the shuttle bay in five minutes," said Keto, "And
don't tell anyone else where you're going."
"Not even Alota?"
"The last time that I checked, 'anyone' included poor deluded
spouses of demons."
"Just remember who's flying you, *Keets*."
"I'm quelling the fear I feel at the moment, *Chrysler*," said
Keto, turning and walking away, "Shuttle bay. Five minutes. Oof!"
The last exclamation was caused by a basketball catching him on the
back of the head for a second time, this time with far more force.
"Nothing but net," came Jay's voice. Keto stalked off.
Halfway down the corridor, there was a telltale bouncing noise
behind him. Without turning round, Keto growled, "Fine. You can
come too."
*Rustle!* exclaimed the Tree, happily.
-- Meanwhile --
Cerebrum walked into his office (ooc: wherever it currently is -
the one that hasn't been destroyed yet! ;) ), and was mildly
interested to see a line of text flashing on the wall screen.
"Message Waiting..."
===========
OOC: Okay, next person who knows where this subplot is leading (Jay,
that you?) And if you want to jump in, Cerebrum, better hurry -
we're leaving in five minutes! ;)