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Posted on Wed May 24th, 2017 @ 3:52am by Brigadier General Christopher Mitchell

Mission: Down on the Upside
Location: Deck 11 - Intermediate Care
Timeline: 2 weeks after Mystery Assault


Christopher rolled over in his bed as an increasingly urgent beeping came from his desk terminal that steadily increased in volume the longer he allowed it to sit unseen. Letting out a yawn, he flicked his wrist and saw the time spring up on a small holographic display on his chronometer: 0500. Slowly moving into a sitting position, he stood and stretched in the cool darkness.

"Computer, lights at twenty percent." The computer beeped an affirmative and the lights bathed the room in soft light. Today was a day he had been looking forward to for weeks. The day he got cleared for duty.

=== 25 Minutes Later, Intermediate Care, Deck 11 ===

Christopher walked into the medical center in athletic shorts and a Marine Green t-shirt and strode over to the nurses station. "Mitchell, Christopher. I have an appointment to see Dr. Ledall."

The nurse looked at him as if he had crawled out of a sewer and motioned pointedly. "You're almost late. Dr. Ledall is off duty but Dr. Nichols will see you. I'll let her know you are here," she said, motioning for a corpsman to take Mitchell to a cubicle.

Christopher nodded at this strangely timed display of rudeness and followed the corpsman, his shoes making no sound as they touched the deck and he entered the examination room.

Cara was doing inventory in the medicine room when the nurse came in and informed her that the General was in Cubicle 3 of Intermediate Care. "Thank you," Cara said and traded the inventory PADD for Mitchell's chart and headed for the cubicle. As she entered she smiled and said, "Good Morning, Christopher. You're looking....sporty." She wheeled a utility tray closer to the biobed and activated the bed's monitors. "Any complaints I should know about?" she asked.

Christopher raised his eyebrow. He was a reasonably healthy man- he had to be. "Besides a royal pain in my ass, nothing to write home about. Just your standard aches and pains." he said with a straight face.

Cara quirked an eyebrow as she moved the bioscanner over him. "A royal opposed to just a nagging one?" she teased as she plugged the bioscanner into the bedside terminal and looked at the results on the monitor's split screen. "Everything looks good," she said. "Fractures have healed nicely. According to your last examination by Dr. Ledall your spinal cord has healed and you have full nerve function. That's great news," she smiled. "Nothing but glowing reports from PT. I was worried that you might not go with the program but I'm glad to see you did. So what is causing this royal pain you mention?" she asked, looking over her shoulder at the General with a teasing twinkle in her eyes.

"Not being able to work," Mitchell grunted. "So what's the prognosis? Can I get back to work?" he asked.

Cara held her finger up in front of Chris's face. "Follow my finger with your eyes," she said and moved her finger up then down then side to side.

Chris stared at the woman's finger as she moved it to test his field of vision.

"Hop down and stand with your feet together," Cara instructed. Once he had complied she said, "Raise your arms out to your sides, tilt your head back and close your eyes."

Climbing down from the table, Chris did as he was instructed. This whole exercise was highly annoying but a necessary evil. He didn't feel his balance waver at all but this wasn't his first rodeo.

Cara watched him for a few seconds to see if he wavered at all then said, "Raise your left leg off of the floor. Keep your arms out. Take your right pinky finger and touch the tip of your nose."

With his leg raised, he felt his center of gravity shift to his left. Slowly and deliberately, he touched his nose with his pinky. "Are we nearly done here, Doc? I feel like we're doing the hokey pokey here."

Cara simply shook her head. "Why are you Marines so impatient?" she teased. "The world is not going to come to an end if you aren't out there doing Marine things every minute. You need to relax. If you don't we are going to end up having a burned out Marine at the helm and that never turns out well." She took out a hemo-extractor from one of the drawers and said, "Have a seat, General. I need to get some blood. I'm combining this examination with your annual flight physical. I am also clearing you for duty. But...," she held up her finger and gave him a stern look, "...if you fell any numbness, muscle weakness or sharp pains in your back I want you to get in here. Understood?"

Christopher sighed again and said, "Yes, Doctor," although a bit sarcastically. He hopped up on the table. "Fine." he said in an expression of faux offense. "Marines don't have a concept of giving up. Doesn't matter if we're fighting or dancing. We won't stop until we get it-" he said jokingly. Looking down at his arms, he saw the extremely faint outlines of surgical scars. He was interrupted by the low beep of a communications console in the corner.

=A= Security Alert! All hands to Alert stations and senior staff to Ops. =A=

Cara removed the instrument and checked the vial to make sure she had gotten enough blood for the routine blood work. "Go," she said to the General and motioned to the cubicle door. "LOCK US DOWN!" she called out and medical personnel began rushing to lock down the medicine room and suite access doors with the exception of the main entrance.

Christopher exited the room and broke into a run, tapping his commbadge along the way. =A= Ops, this is Mitchell. I need a SitRep and I need one now. =A=

As Mitchell continued to run towards a turbolift, the operations officer spoke up. "We're detecting massive levels of ionizing radiation and bursts of plasma rapidly coming toward us but-"

"But what?" Mitchell asked.

Chris could practically hear the Operations officer gulp. "Science is reporting it's biological- matches a reptilian profile."

Letting out a whispered expletive as he stepped into the turbolift, Christopher sighed. "Frakking space dragons." he said



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