The day was not going well. McCoy looked around the medical bay and sighed as another member of the crew vomited onto the deck. He rolled his eyes, "Nurse!" he quipped. At this rate, he'd run out of nurses and have to do some scrubbing himself. Most of the beds were already full with unwell crewmembers. He returned his attention to the organism he was examining under the lab microscope – he'd never seen anything like it. It seemed to be a cross between a parasitic worm and a viral infection. Nor did he know where it came from or how it could be destroyed.
"What you got for me Bones?" Kirk's voice came over the intercom, concern sounding in every word.
"You're not going to like it Jim."
"Tell me something I don't know."
"I can't make it out, it seems to be some kind of worm virus," he said, it wasn't technical but that's all he had.
"Can you cure it?"
"I don't know," how could you cure something if you didn't know what it was? "I'm working on it." He said. The wet noise of someone losing their stomach sounded in the background. Great. "I've got to go Jim, look, if anyone up there starts to sweat or look off you send them straight to me."
"I'll be in touch." Kirk said. The com clicked off, leaving Bones to examine the organism further – this was going to be a real problem. Why Jim insisted on beaming down to every rock and moon was beyond him, there was no wonder a disease like this had found its way on board ship. He'd much rather deal with the Andorian Flu any day, at least that had a cure. Bones watched as the worm split into two and began writhing around in the fluid on the tray. One of the pair appeared to barf up some matter, which in turn attracted the other. He shuddered and stood up.
The doors of Sickbay hissed open and in stumbled Chekov. His skin had a damp sheen covering it and he looked green. McCoy already knew that he would be hot to the touch; chills would follow, "I don't feel good," he whispered.
"Come on lad," he said. He strode over and hooked his arm under Chekov's. The kid felt weak, like he was about to- Chekov's legs went from under him. McCoy helped him into one of the vacant beds and urged him to lie down. He reached for a sedative and jabbed it onto the side of his newest patient's neck. Chekov instantly relaxed, his breathing came a little easier and his eyes drifted closed. McCoy picked up the nearest scanner and ran it over his friend. The readings said that everything was fine but one glance told him otherwise. He placed a bowl on the side of the bed, knowing already what the next phase of the disease would be. He sighed, knowing that this was going to be messy before he found a cure.
