Star-Trek: Enterprise
Authors Note: I Love Trinidad and Tobago! The best place in the world, incidentally, is Trinidad. I'm going to retire there, I swear. Well, here's the newest chapter. Enjoys! P.S. National British Dive Week, 2-8 September.
Doctor Phlox was very confused. It was about 4 hours - he checked the digital chronometer on the wall - yes, 4 hours since the supposed botched lobotomy. Which, incidentally, he had no memory of. He was still attempting to piece together his memories of the previous night, while he finished his internal scan of Ensign Traywait. Other than his digestion tract seeming a bit full, he could detect no other problems with the Ensign. He placed aside his dermal regenerator, finished, just as the Trip Tucker walked through the sick-bay door. "Hiya, Doc, Archer sent me to see if you'd finished." Trip trailed off. "Are you all right, Captain?" Phlox asked him, tilting his head to the side. "Well, aside from looking like you haven't slept all night, there's these, um, things." he trailed off again, patting the left side of his face. Phlox picked up the mirror on the patient's bedside table, and promptly dropped it. "Good Flummox!" he exclaimed, and retrieved the mirror, stroking his own cheek. There were large black blotches all over the left side of his cheek. His eyes were severely dilated, yet let no extra light in, which was surprising. His eyes were bloodshot, his usually startlingly-blue iris was red, and he looked like he had a severe cerebral cranium bleed. His nose was running continuously, while his skin was dry, parched, and felt like paper. "Where's the trainee doctor?" Trip asked immediately. "Uh, she's asleep at the moment," he replied after placing down the mirror, trying to gain his composure - and maybe even some of his health. "Well, as soon as she arrives for her shift, tell her that you need a check- up. Commander's Orders" He finished sternly. Phlox nodded. "But first, tell me about what you found from your intensive scan." Trip motioned toward Ensign Traywait. "It's very strange, Commander," Phlox said, calling up charts, diagrams, and bio-scans. "Other than a large increase of hormones and a severe decrease of proteins, there seems to be nothing wrong with the Ensign. I've prescribed him some sleeping pills, and some protein-replacement tablets, but other than that, there is nothing more that I should do." He turned to Trip with a flourish. "However, the Ensign has been having some - rather disturbing dreams. They seem to cause fear in him, while calming him at the same time. He should be alright within the next two days, and be ready for active duty in about four to five days, but otherwise - ugh!" On the last word, the Doctor toppled toward Trip, who held him up while the Doctor tried to keep in his stomachs. "Doc, I think I'll confine you to quarters, as whatever you have seems to be catching. First Traywait, now you've gone and fallen for it." Phlox grimaced. "No pun intended." "No pun indeed," coughed the doctor. "I think I'll take your advice." The Doctor stared at Trip very had, his red iris boring into him. Trip didn't notice, but started dragging the Doctor to the door. "Come on, Doc. I'll escort ya." He tugged again, and the doctor shrugged him off. Trip stared back at the Doc, who had spittle dribbling from his mouth. "Doc, you okay?" Trip asked nervously. "Oh, I'm better than okay," growled the Doc, while he advanced toward Trip, his mouth wide open. His voice seemed to be very guttural, almost like it was coming from inside him. "Okay, Doc, I'm going to call security." The Doctor backhanded him, very hard. Trip flew back against the worktable, which the Doctor had only just cleaned up, scattering everything again. "DOC!" he shouted, as the Doc gripped him and flipped him onto the floor, sitting on him and banging his head on the floor. Trip, dazed, looked up into the very wide mouth of the Doc looking down on him. "You are near the top of the hierarchy," he sneered at him, "You will not only be a good incubator, but you will also give me an apt sphere of influence until my next stage in development." "Doc? Are you all right?" Trip asked, knowing the answer, while still struggling. Of course Doc wasn't alright. "Silence!" Doc shouted at him, banging Trip's head on the floor again. "This being is not compatible! You are, and will do well as my next being!" Trip screamed as two long, purple finger-like extensions spread Phlox's mouth wide (A/N: Think Alien/Predator style extensions). Seeing it's opportunity, the alien symbiote pulled itself out of Phlox and into Trip, all in one movement. Trip gagged, coughed, then fell unconscious under Phlox.
Chapter Done! But all I have time for, since I'm going sailing for the first time this weekend!
Authors Note: I Love Trinidad and Tobago! The best place in the world, incidentally, is Trinidad. I'm going to retire there, I swear. Well, here's the newest chapter. Enjoys! P.S. National British Dive Week, 2-8 September.
Doctor Phlox was very confused. It was about 4 hours - he checked the digital chronometer on the wall - yes, 4 hours since the supposed botched lobotomy. Which, incidentally, he had no memory of. He was still attempting to piece together his memories of the previous night, while he finished his internal scan of Ensign Traywait. Other than his digestion tract seeming a bit full, he could detect no other problems with the Ensign. He placed aside his dermal regenerator, finished, just as the Trip Tucker walked through the sick-bay door. "Hiya, Doc, Archer sent me to see if you'd finished." Trip trailed off. "Are you all right, Captain?" Phlox asked him, tilting his head to the side. "Well, aside from looking like you haven't slept all night, there's these, um, things." he trailed off again, patting the left side of his face. Phlox picked up the mirror on the patient's bedside table, and promptly dropped it. "Good Flummox!" he exclaimed, and retrieved the mirror, stroking his own cheek. There were large black blotches all over the left side of his cheek. His eyes were severely dilated, yet let no extra light in, which was surprising. His eyes were bloodshot, his usually startlingly-blue iris was red, and he looked like he had a severe cerebral cranium bleed. His nose was running continuously, while his skin was dry, parched, and felt like paper. "Where's the trainee doctor?" Trip asked immediately. "Uh, she's asleep at the moment," he replied after placing down the mirror, trying to gain his composure - and maybe even some of his health. "Well, as soon as she arrives for her shift, tell her that you need a check- up. Commander's Orders" He finished sternly. Phlox nodded. "But first, tell me about what you found from your intensive scan." Trip motioned toward Ensign Traywait. "It's very strange, Commander," Phlox said, calling up charts, diagrams, and bio-scans. "Other than a large increase of hormones and a severe decrease of proteins, there seems to be nothing wrong with the Ensign. I've prescribed him some sleeping pills, and some protein-replacement tablets, but other than that, there is nothing more that I should do." He turned to Trip with a flourish. "However, the Ensign has been having some - rather disturbing dreams. They seem to cause fear in him, while calming him at the same time. He should be alright within the next two days, and be ready for active duty in about four to five days, but otherwise - ugh!" On the last word, the Doctor toppled toward Trip, who held him up while the Doctor tried to keep in his stomachs. "Doc, I think I'll confine you to quarters, as whatever you have seems to be catching. First Traywait, now you've gone and fallen for it." Phlox grimaced. "No pun intended." "No pun indeed," coughed the doctor. "I think I'll take your advice." The Doctor stared at Trip very had, his red iris boring into him. Trip didn't notice, but started dragging the Doctor to the door. "Come on, Doc. I'll escort ya." He tugged again, and the doctor shrugged him off. Trip stared back at the Doc, who had spittle dribbling from his mouth. "Doc, you okay?" Trip asked nervously. "Oh, I'm better than okay," growled the Doc, while he advanced toward Trip, his mouth wide open. His voice seemed to be very guttural, almost like it was coming from inside him. "Okay, Doc, I'm going to call security." The Doctor backhanded him, very hard. Trip flew back against the worktable, which the Doctor had only just cleaned up, scattering everything again. "DOC!" he shouted, as the Doc gripped him and flipped him onto the floor, sitting on him and banging his head on the floor. Trip, dazed, looked up into the very wide mouth of the Doc looking down on him. "You are near the top of the hierarchy," he sneered at him, "You will not only be a good incubator, but you will also give me an apt sphere of influence until my next stage in development." "Doc? Are you all right?" Trip asked, knowing the answer, while still struggling. Of course Doc wasn't alright. "Silence!" Doc shouted at him, banging Trip's head on the floor again. "This being is not compatible! You are, and will do well as my next being!" Trip screamed as two long, purple finger-like extensions spread Phlox's mouth wide (A/N: Think Alien/Predator style extensions). Seeing it's opportunity, the alien symbiote pulled itself out of Phlox and into Trip, all in one movement. Trip gagged, coughed, then fell unconscious under Phlox.
Chapter Done! But all I have time for, since I'm going sailing for the first time this weekend!