Characters in this post
View character profile for: Davie Jones (Deceased)
View character profile for: Seymour Niples
View character profile for: Efof Yuwan'Kar
"Don't Stop Me Now!" pt1
Who: Seymour, Dr Keto, Cassandra, Brittany, Davie and Captain Amber FeBuggure
When: As Seymour was wheeled in, a little over a day ago.
That was when Keto noticed a commotion in the medibay, he looked up and walked
into the main room to see a blood stained Seymour. He was in a bad way, his skin
was charred and bleeding, and there were two bloodied stumps where his legs
should have been.
Keto picked up a medical clipboard and took a look at it, then at Seymour, and
then back at the clipboard.
"If you'd just like to walk this way to the examination room..." He joked. But
the only response he got from Seymour was a moan of pain.
Wildflower wheeled Seymour behind a curtain and started cleaned off the dried
blood. Keto prepared some special ointment which he smeared over Seymour's
stumps to stop the bleeding.
"So..." Keto said, holding up the two disembodied legs. "What shall we do with
these?" He turned them over in his hands. "They'll never sew back on. They're
useless. Might as well chuck them in the bin I suppose..."
"You jolly well better not!" Seymour shouted, trying to sit up in bed.
The curtain was pulled back to reveal Amber and Brittany.
"How are you?" Asked Amber.
"How do you think I am?" Seymour said sarcastically pointing to his stubs. "I'm
half the man I used to be!"
"It's a good look..." Brittany said, trying to be convincing.
"Seymour, that bomb was meant for me. I'm really sorry-" Started Amber but she
never got chance to finish the sentence.
The creature that Davie had described burst out of an overhead vent and snatched
one of Seymour's legs with its massive arms, and then started chewing on it. It
jumped down onto the bed, knocking Seymour onto the floor where he writhed
ungracefully. With the creature standing over him, Keto called out from further
away "Leave him, he's done for, he doesn't have a leg to stand on!"
Almost at the same time, as if responding to the entrance of the creature, Sgt
Wilson sat upright in his bed and threw Wildflower across the room. He stood and
walked like a zombie towards the mutant creature, somehow the venom in his skin
causing him to behave irrationally.
As Wildflower tumbled into a tray of ointments and bandages, Davie leveled the
barrel of his shot gun with the head of the vicious creature standing above
Seymour. It raised it's clawed, four fingered hands into the air. Davie pulled
the trigger, hot pellets poured from the barrel, succeeded by a billow of flame
and smoke. The monstrous head of the creature exploded with an intense splash of
what served as it's blood against the walls. It's body fell to the ground with a
heavy thud, halfway on top of what was left of Seymour's lower half.
Davie pumped the shotgun, and Wilson wrapped his hands around his neck from
behind. Davie dropped his weight to the ground, and pushed up with all the
strength his legs could provide. The pair went flying backwards into the glass
doors of an ointment cabinet. The doors shattered, and ointment flew in every
direction. Davie lost the grip on his gun and it went skidding across the room
to come to a halt underneath a surprised patient's bed.
Wilson was on his feet first and he kicked Davie in the stomach. He pulled back
his leg to deliver another blow. Davie reached out and grabbed a hold of his
leg, pulling quickly. Wilson tumbled to the ground. "Get the smeg out!" Davie
shouted at the others, coming quickly to his feet. The medibay was completely
evacuated in a matter of seconds, save for the bed ridden patients.
Wilson stumbled over to a bed and hauled himself up, limping slightly on his
previously injured leg. Davie grabbed him by the back of his hospital gown.
Wilson shoved his elbow violently backwards into Davie's stomach, twisting
upwards and throwing a tightly clenched fist into his face. Davie hopped back
and Wilson grabbed a scalpel off a nearby tray. He swung it at Davie's throat.
He leaned back, the blade missing by only a few centimeters. Davie took another
step back and Wilson tried to drive the blade into his gut. Davie pushed his
wrist down, and threw himself bodily into the Sgt., sending them both crashing
back to the floor near the ointments.
Davie rolled on top of Wilson and picked up a glass bottle of some ointment
marked with the number "35" in large red letters. He raised the bottle above his
head and prepared to smash it into the Wilson's face, when he raised knee to
chest level and kicked Davie hard in the chest. Davie toppled over backwards,
the bottle flying from his hands. It crashed into the floor, splashing the
substance it contained washing over the metal, beginning to rapidly dissolve a
visible hole in the floor.
Wilson stood and rushed for Davie, who rolled under an un occupied bed. He came
to his feet on the other side, and reached over, grabbing Wilson by his gown,
and hauling across the bed. He threw him to the floor with a heavy thud. Wilson
grabbed Davie's leg and pulled. Davie stumbled back and Wilson rushed him,
tackling him into the wall. He came up and grabbed Davie by his long hair,
slamming his head into the glass of another of Keto's ointment cabinets. Davie
felt a stream of warm blood trickle down the left side of his face as he pulled
his head form the glass.
Wilson grabbed hold of Davie's shirt collar and pulled him close. Davie was
about to swing his hand up into Wilson's face when he heard the loud report of a
shotgun being fired form across the room, following by an immediate scream from
Sgt. Wilson, who released Davie and fell to the floor. Davie looked down and saw
that Wilson's left leg had been separated at the knee. Davie kicked him in the
jaw, knocking him unconscious. "Medic!" he yelled, and a few members of the
medical staff came rushing back into the room.
Davie looked up at the other side of the room, breathless, to see the smoking
barrel of a shotgun being held by slightly menacing looking woman connected to a
large array of tubes and IVs, who looked very familiar. "Nice shot…" Davie said,
walking over to her, placing one hand on his aching head to feel how bad the cut
was. He winced, and drew his hand away, first looking at the blood, then letting
the hand drop limp to his side. "You're lucky I didn't decide just to shoot you
for leaving the horse's head in my bed." replied the woman, pumping the shotgun,
a fresh shell now loaded in the chamber.
"Cassandra, right?" Davie said, reaching out with an open palm to take the
shotgun "Yeah, and you're Davie." she said, handing over the gun.
"Thanks for that." he said, slipping the shotgun back into it's thigh holster.
"Mm-hm…" she said sardonically, folding her arms in front of herself. Davie
looked at the team of doctors busying themselves tending to Wilson's demolished
leg. He turned back Cass. Davie turned. "Keep him under heavy sedation and
restrained," Davie told the medics, "he might be missing a leg but he's still
Davie turned to Cass and raised two fingers to his forehead in a casual salute,
simultaneously nodding his head just slightly, and walked to the other end of
* * *
Parrots, about an hour later.
Davie gingerly rubbed the thick wad of gauze and tape neatly covering the
laceration in his forehead. He sauntered over to the bar and took a seat.
"What'll it be?" asked the bar tender. "Cranberry juice and a bowl of venison
"The cranberry juice I think I can manage, but I'm afraid since we've become
hunted by the JMC the only thing I can offer in the way of solid food is a
C-ration. That is unless you like haggis…"
"I'll take the C-ration." Davie said, slightly grimacing at the image of Sheep
stomach stuffed with barley he got in his head. "Here you go," said the
bartender as he slid the juice and ration over to Davie, "enjoy it while you
can, because it won't be long before we have to crack our way into the
As Davie sat in a corner of the dimly lit pub, slowly eating the ration,
thinking about several things, like the planet that they were now flying
towards, and what they might find there. He also thought about what Harvey's
take on the whole situation would be. Where is Harvey? I haven't seen him in a
while now. Davie thought as he finished off the last of his ration, wrapping the
meal up with the small allotment of chocolate.