un: dr.mccoy ; [voice]

[biomed]

( McCoy sounds unlike himself, cool and distant instead of his usual present warmth, a touch of something hoarse in his voice. )

That 'coal sickness' we've all been hearin' of is likely caused by a bacterial infection— long story short, it triggers massive organ death, with decay following swiftly on its heels. Minaras is hanging onto several samples of plague bacteria from all over Serthica, at least in this medical center alone, but I've never seen any instance of Terran or alien plagues that acted like this.

So far, the authorities aren't focused so much on curin' it as they are containing the few cases of it. The current, and only treatment they offer is a serum, which provides a temporary delay of the symptoms, and curbs transmission for only a handful of hours.

The good news is, I have better diagnostic tools than they've got, so I've gathered enough data and samples of my own to pick up where their researchers have left off.

While it isn't my first time creating a successful treatment protocol for a disease, I don't believe a course of antibiotics alone is gonna stop this, so I could use assistance from the rest of the team's healers to make it happen.

( Deep breath... and then another. )

The bad news is...

I'm in an isolation ward. I've been infected.

( His voice catches so briefly, covered over again by smooth, compassionate professionalism, as if tasked with the job of delivering someone else's poor prognosis, not his own. )

Near as I can tell, there was a... a faulty seal in the protective equipment I 'borrowed' from these folks. They've given me the serum, so I feel all right still, but past that they'd rather lock me away than let me do anything about it.

( McCoy quiets suddenly, listening, and his voice drops as he continues, in a hurry. )

This is asking a lot of y'all, I know, but... I can't stay in here and do nothing, and I can't just- just waste away and take what knowledge I have with me. From what I've gathered so far, there's a decent shot of curing this, but it's gonna take more time than I've got left.

Please. We could do some good while we're here, but I need help.


(( ooc: all the relevant plot info is here if you'd like to opt in; he's got a pre-planned exit squared away just to keep that neat! ))

Comments

whoops wrong bones

[biomed]

Maybe, ( he says slowly, thinking it over with careful consideration. )

And close contact to you prompted that kind of a...sympathetic immune response.

Lord above, a matter synthesizer would be wonderful right about now. Any antibiotic we come up with will have to be mass-produced the old fashioned way, but it's better than nothing.

[unas]

And simpler if you know specifically what to produce.

( assuming he did produce chimeric antibodies, assuming that they could bring him any equipment, that he could extract them and produce the antibiotic from it )

I'd risk it to save you.

[biomed]

( McCoy goes quiet for a long moment, then: )

Please don't say things like that.

[unas]

My immune system was built to protect me like this. I can get you the things you need. You also can't stop me helping you.

[biomed]

That's not what I–

( a huff, brief, but he sounds more like himself again, brusque around the edges, )

Of course I can't stop you; I don't think the whole Universe could, once you put your mind to something.

I'd like to know more about this plague before you throw your hat in the ring.

[unas]

Just don't take too long. We still need you to synthesise the antibiotic.

[biomed]

Aye, Commander.