Communication to All
Your oh so lovely Captain has reserved an entire bar for our use for our final night on Risa! You can get the position of it from the attached file. Nice little place, tucked up on the beach and right up against the waterline, full bar with everything you can imagine! I'll be seeing you all around sunset!
(
[BRIEF OOC] )
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McCoy headed over to where the Ambassador was leaning. "Hey there," he said, reaching in for his little tricorder. "What's going on, Ambassador? You feeling bad?"
Clearly McCoy had too much to drink by this time.
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{{ Clearly not too worried about self's well-being, ignored obvious signs of internal struggle for the past 20 minutes and did not attempt to engage in healing trance because is unable }}
"I require...a hospital. I am..injured."
[[ Words form slowly as though sluggish, ill-maneuvered from too much alcohol in system that has begun to affect self ]]
[[ Mumbles something in Vulcan ]]
"Bolaya nash-veh rel-dai..."
{{ Slumps over to side }}
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He ran his tricorder over the Vulcan's body, face frowning before he remembered that the readings would be different. Hey, look at me, he said, sitting the man up against the rail. "What's wrong? Are you injured?"
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{{ Unbeknownst to self, was unconscious for several hours following arrival to planet Risa for nervous system to attempt to re-establish itself. Emotive controls fried, healing trance disabled, control of pain disabled }}
[[ Grabs on to the man's arm and looks at with desperation in eyes ]]
"Where...are the Syrranites?"
{{ Does not realise that this is probable gibberish, unaware of huge changes in Vulcan history including the reintroduction of mind-melding. Misunderstanding that would be able to contact any Vulcan aside from a rogue underground group that probably were all dead and gone anyway. Confusion evident and pale from blood loss. Ignoring condition possibly grave mistake, only reason that is not dead is because of mostly unsuccessful attempts at bio-control and Vulcan ( ... )
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Emotional overload? McCoy began thinking, as best he could. Everyone was off ship, no sense beaming him back up to sickbay if no one there. The local hospital, he had no idea how equipped it was to deal in these emergencies.
Still, it was his best bet. "Hey, one of you, can you go get me a waitress or bartender or something?" he called out to one of the guys in navigation.
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[[ Eyebrows narrow in confusion as the woman speaks, asking the doctor what he requires ]]
[[ Looks up at both of them and mumbles out a response ]]
"Sorry to have...inconvenienced you..."
{{ A Vulcan making illogical apologies was indeed strange, but mostly so was this entire circumstance and perhaps would be overlooked. Bartender shakes head as though to dissuade self of the merit of apology and hands Dr. McCoy a portable communicator, telling him to phone the Risian Emergency Medical Task Force }}
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He looked up, wondering what was taking the medical team so long to arrive. "Do you know what has happened to you? What sort of problem you are experiencing? You mentioned emotions." Bones frowned, knowing that had to be a uniquely Vulcan condition.
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"Didn't believe me...thought if he made me emotional...I would tell him the truth...I was telling the truth..."
{{ Loses consciousness as medics arrive and lift self up on to stretcher }}
++ [[ Medic turns to Bones and speaks quietly ]] "Do you know what has happened to him? His nervous system is entirely rewired and tangled, it is a wonder how he's survived this long. Internal bleeding, lacerations..." [[ Man frowns slightly ]] "Where did you find him? Did he tell you anything useful?" ++
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McCoy gave the medics his comm information and the information for the Enterprise sickbay. "We'll be leaving in the next day or so," he told them. "Once he's stabilized, please let me know."
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