Gunslinger

Who: Keto, Holo-Tara, Jennifer Wildflower, Vanessa Chrysler, The Big Pink Tree
Where: The Medibay
When: Now
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There was a 'clink' of glass against glass, followed by a sinister hissing sound. Followed by a man's voice.
"Everybody DOWN!"
Followed by a loud bang and the sound of three bodies hitting the floor. And rustling. Slowly, silence descended again. Then another voice, female this time, sounding somewhat petulant.
"Well, THAT one didn't work either!"
An arm, clad in a white sleeve, appeared from behind an overturned medical bed. The face of Doctor Keto followed it, reddened and looking exasperated.
"Thank you for your observation, Wildflower. It is duly noted. And shall be repaid at some to-be-confirmed time in the future."
The medibay was a mess. The last explosion had only been a small one, resulting in minor damage to the worktop that Keto had been using, the wall behind it, the cabinet above and...oh, yes, now that he thought about it, the Big Pink Tree, which had been standing a couple of feet away from the explosion and was now quivering uncontrollably, peppered with shards of glass.
Keto sniffed as he pulled himself to his feet. Yes, the last explosion had been small, but the previous two dozen had varied in size from "oh dear, that mildly burned my finger" to "Dear holy Christ get those blast doors closed or we'll all be sucking vacuum in five seconds". The last kind had been the worst. And the most numerous. As a result, the medibay now looked like a china shop after a visit from a particularly irate bull. With a chaingun.
"Doc," said another female voice, and Vanessa Chrysler stepped out from behind the cabinet she had taken cover behind, "I don't think we're getting very far with this."
"I agree," said Jennifer Wildflower, climbing out from one of the floor-level cupboards, "To be honest, I think these attempts at creating a cure are causing more harm than the actual space herpes is."
"Erroneous assumption," piped up the image of Holo-Tara, who was standing in the middle of the room and hadn't even moved when the explosion went off, "The contagion rate of space herpes is far greater than that of Doctor Keto's explosions."
"Hey!" snapped Keto, "They're not MY explosions!"
"Correction: far greater than that of Doctor Keto's mistakes."
"HEY!"
"Internal error," murmured Holo-Tara, and shut up. Keto sighed heavily.
"Look," he growled, "This is a medical bay. There is a potential epidemic occurring aboard this ship. We are medical staff..."
*Rustle* went the Tree. Keto rolled his eyes.
"...we are medical THINGS," he continued, "Whose duty it is to create a cure for aforementioned epidemic. Now, what part of that doesn't make sense to you?"
"The part where you blow up the ship," chipped in Wildflower.
"I DID NOT BLOW UP THE SHIP!"
"That is correct," said Holo-Tara.
"Thank you."
"I estimate that Doctor Keto only blew up 0.75% of this vessel's integral structure. Further damage will likely be limited by the fact that there is nothing left in here to destroy."
"Stop agreeing with me," growled Keto, "Look, just...just get this damn place tidied back up so that we can try again..."
"Hey, what's this?" called Vanessa, who had started trying to rearrange one of the cabinets that had fallen over in one of the previous explosive events. The others crowded round as she pulled something out from the back of the cabinet. Something that looked like a metallic attache case, a couple of feet in length, rectangular, sealed with a combination lock.
"Ah, I wondered where I'd put those," said Keto, reaching forward and unceremoniously snatching the case from Vanessa. Wildflower, however, was more on the ball, and as Keto triumphantly went to turn away she grabbed it out of his hands.
"HEY!"
"So what's in the case, Charlie?" asked Wildflower, holding it up to her ear and shaking it.
"DON'T DO THAT! It's...fragile."
"Come on, let's have a look! What's the combination?"
"Hah. That information I will take to your grave," snapped Keto.
"Don't you mean your grave?"
"Keep wishing."
"I assess a 74.3% probability that the required combination is 459-836," said Holo-Tara from the back of the crowd. Three heads (and one set of foliage) turned to look at her.
"How...how do you know that!?" managed Keto after a moment of stunned silence.
"That combination is the same as your JMC security access code for your personal finance account, and you have previously complained of poor memory skills relating to numbers," said Holo-Tara.
Wildflower, Vanessa and the Tree all turned to look back at Keto, who had gone crimson.
"Great," he muttered, "Thanks. Right. Before I go away and change all of my bank details, give me my case."
"Uh-uh, I don't think so!" said Wildflower and, before Keto could grab the case from her, ducked out of the way and started playing with the combination dials. Keto swore loudly.
"Don't you dare open tha-"
"Whoa," murmured Wildflower, finally getting the combination right and clicking the case open, "Charlie...why do you own a gun? Or two?"
Sitting inside the metallic case, held in place by cushioned padding around them, were a pair of silver pistols. Wildflower peered at them.
"There's something engraved on the handles," she said. "One says 'First, do no harm'. Hah. The second..."
"...says I will kill whoever doesn't give me my damn pistols," growled Keto.
"Hush, Charlie, calm down," said Wildflower, before looking back at the case. "Oh, wait. It actually does say that."
Keto shoved past Vanessa and the Tree and grabbed the case from Wildflower, glaring at her.
"I've had these for years," he said, "Years and years. Probably more years than you've been alive, Ms Wildflower, which is far too many years entirely."
"Can you use them?" asked Vanessa. Keto raised an eyebrow.
"I don't own things I can't use."
*Rustle.*
"No, that was not a compliment. I don't own you."
*Rustle?*
"NO YOU CANNOT HAVE REPARATIONS. Shut up."
"Go on, prove it!" said Wildflower, prodding Keto's shoulder, "Shoot that conical flask over there."
"Don't be ridiculous. I don't shoot parts of my medibay."
"Why not? You blow them up happily enough."
"Shut the hell up."
"I think you're just chicken," smirked Wildflower, "You can't actually use those things and you're just embarrassed that we'll..."
There was a sudden sound of shattering glass. Vanessa, Wildflower and the Tree looked, shocked, at where the remains of the glass conical flash now lay, then back at the gun case, which now only held one of the two pistols, then back at Keto, who was standing with one hand outstretched. Then at his empty hand, then back to the remains of the shattered flask, then at the gun that lay in the middle of them.
"Ah," said Keto.
"Did you...did you just THROW the gun at that flask!?" blinked Vanessa.
"My fingers slipped," said Keto, shortly, "I'm a bit rusty."
"A bit!?" said Vanessa. Keto glared at her.
"Look, the flask is destroyed, isn't it!?"
"You know," said Vanessa, "When they call someone a gunslinger, it isn't actually meant to be taken literally."
"MY FINGERS SLIPPED! Damn you all, I'm a GOOD shot with these things!"
"Sure you are Charlie," sighed Wildflower as she, Vanessa and the Tree turned away disappointedly, to make a start on tidying up the medibay, "Sure you are."
"Dammit," growled Keto, storming over to his thrown pistol and picking it back up again, "You'll see! I'm going to practice and by the end of the day I'll be as sharp as I ever was!"
"Erroneous assumption-" began Holo-Tara.
"AND YOU CAN SHUT UP TOO!"
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OOC: First, do no harm. Second, post. :D

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