Duty Calls

Who: Keto
Where: Trisees' Old Hideout
When: Time Flies Like An Arrow, Fruit Flies Like A Banana *shrugs*
=========================================================
There was, for about the thirteenth time, an enormous crash,
followed by a deep sigh, filled with less anger than the last twelve
times, but exponentially more exasperation.
"Holly," said a voice emanating from beneath a great pile of
technical equipment, "Are you absolutely, 100%, no-holds-barred
certain that there are no skutters available to lend a hand here?"
"No, Doc, they're still all busy," said Holly.
There was another clatter as several pieces of junk shifted and
tumbled off the pile, revealing Dr Keto in a now fairly creased
laboratory coat.
"Holly, somewhere in here are the schematics for a machine that
could (a) revolutionise medical and psychiatric history and (b) free
my medibay of the biggest annoyance it has ever met, so please, do
tell, what precisely are ALL of your skutters busy doing?"
"...it's technical," lied Holly.
"Un-technify it."
"Well, half of them are trying to help Dr Cerebrum turn the ship
into a communist state."
"Uh-huh," nodded Keto slowly, "Well, that could be better. And the
other half?"
"Helping a lounge singer fly us into a black hole."
"I see. Holly?"
"Yes?"
"Has the captain been informed of this?"
"Umm...no. I don't think so."
"Has his amnesia improved yet?"
"I'm not sure."
Keto sighed. Asking Holly questions was like asking a wall, except
that a wall didn't give the same stupid replies, and would in fact
probably give more useful information.
"Okay, where IS the captain?" sighed Keto.
"In the medibay."
Keto paused.
"In my medibay?"
"Yes."
"What's he doing there?"
"I believe the term is 'bleeding profusely'."
There was a cacophony of clattering noises, and where a moment ago
there had been a pile of junk there was now a long line of junk,
reaching from the location of the aforementioned pile to the doors.
Several pieces were still spinning on the ground due to the speed of
Keto's departure.
-- A Very Short While Later --
Keto skidded into the medibay to the sight of a very injured
Captain Niples, wearing a spacesuit that was probably more space than
suit at the moment and more blood than both.
"Nurse Cleavage, prepare the operating room," snapped Keto, not
even stopping moving as his skid turned into a rapid walk over to the
patient's bedside. As Tara did so, Keto quickly glanced over the
injury.
"Looks quite deep...what caused this?"
"A knife," said Katrina, simply. Keto raised an eyebrow but didn't
ask any further questions.
"All right, Nurse Coffey, if you'd be so kind as to move the
captain into the operating room, I'll go and scrub up."
"I'll go throw up," said Mayer, who was standing by the door of the
office.
Dead silence fell as everyone turned to look at him...even the semi-
conscious captain. Mayer shrugged helplessly.
"Sorry, it just slipped out," he said apologetically.
"Ah," muttered Keto, "I've found my alibi. 'No, I did not activate
the airlock, he just slipped out.'"
Without waiting for a response, Keto hurried away to the scrubbing-
up area.
"Wait, what can we do?" asked Allie, as Coffey began to wheel the
captain away.
"Take a seat and hope for the best?" suggested Coffey, "Or there's
always a communist takeover and a flight into a black hole to
prevent."
"And schematics to get from Trisees' workshop," interjected Sean.
"And an acting-captain to return to full size."
"And..."
"Jeez, sorry I asked!" muttered Allie.
-- One Operation Later* --
Keto walked out of the operating room. Katrina, who had been
waiting a silent vigil for the past couple of hours, stood up.
"How is he?" she asked quickly.
"He's going to be fine," nodded Keto, looking quite satisfied, "His
condition is greatly improved, and he'll be perfectly fine so long as
he gets plenty of rest for a while. Yes, the operation to remove the
bullet was a complete success."
"...but it was a knife wound," said Katrina.
Keto blinked.
"Ah. Well then, the operation to remove the ball bearing he
swallowed as a child was a complete success. Plenty of rest for a
few weeks, possibly a month or more, and he'll be back to his old
self, albeit with some fairly heavy scar tissue on the site of the
wound."
"I hope you're right," said Katrina. Missing the somewhat more
fervent tone than might have otherwise been expected, Keto nodded and
scribbled something on a piece of paper, "The nurses should be
bringing him out soon. This is a prescription for our captain, which
should greatly speed his recovery." Keto handed Katrina the piece of
paper, which boiled down to a list of three ointments, instructions
as to their application, and Keto's signature, "Now, if you'll excuse
me...I have schematics to dig up."
With that he turned, to head out of the medibay and back down
towards what would no doubt become known as The Junkpile.
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OOC: Tag! (Wow, whatever happened to my long and rambling OOC
comments?)
*Yes, okay, I'm no real doctor so I can't talk through a detailed
operation! ;)