Tinkering and Sick...ering.

Posted on Thu Oct 27th, 2016 @ 4:24pm by Alika Mahone

Mission: Mission 2 - Contagion
Location: Recreation Area, Deck Seven
Timeline: MD 04: 0530 hours
1088 words - 2.2 OF Standard Post Measure

The lights in the recreation area were at their brightest. Unfortunately, that was not too bright, as at least half of them were not working, casting dark shadows everywhere.

Over, next to what could, if someone were feeling overly generous, a stage was the jukebox that had been discovered in the treasure trove behind the bulkhead. Kneeling next to it, his body disappearing into it, was Bradon. He had felt miserable most of the night. A cold had crept up on him shortly after he had crashed, and by 0300 he had known that he was not going to be able to go back to sleep.

So he had gotten out of bed and put on a pair of work overalls, tossed on his tools - because you never knew what might need fixing at three in the morning, and went wandering. Taking his tools was almost second nature to him now. There was so much to fix on the Mary Rose, it wasn't funny.

He had wandered about an hour before he ended up down on deck seven. There he'd found that the jukebox that they had found had been moved down as he had asked. A grin had crossed his face as his eyes had lighted on it. If he was going to be up, he might as well enjoy the time.

That had been over an hour ago. "There," he said to himself as he backed out of the machine. "Hopefully that'll do it." He began to put the panel back on.

Bradon had not been the only one left out of the 'having an illness' party. Alika, who had spent most of the afternoon passed out in the cushy bed of her new quarters in a vain attempt to sleep off what she seemed to have caught. She blamed everyone else for catching it first, whatever it was, but they had a doctor or three on the ship. Maybe it'd subside.

Three in the morning happened to be a great time to mosey on down to the recreation area, a place that she made a point of not entering unless it was around this time. She preferred the peace and quiet, and on such a big ship with such a small crew, she found on most occasions that she received as such.

As she entered the room, she found herself not as lucky, staring at the back end of the chief engineer, or as Alika liked to call him, her 'chair savior.' "... This is an engineer thing, isn't it? The working all day and night thing?"

"Oh hey!" Bradon grinned at the suddenly appearing pilot. "Can't sleep either?" She looked like he felt, restless and not at a hundred percent.

"You caught me," he said guiltily as he turned back to putting the side panel on. "I've found that when I can't sleep, I tinker. I'd tinkered with everything in my quarters, so I started wandering the ship and found myself here." With a last twist of the tool, the panel was secure.

He threw a switch on the back and grunted in satisfaction as the machine lite up.

"Care to see if it works, m'lady?" He asked, sweeping his hand toward the jukebox.

Alika peered at the jukebox as the lights danced the outer rim, ready to bounce into song for whoever pressed its buttons. Fiddling with the controls, the young woman chuckled. "How old do you think this thing is? 22nd century? Earlier?... There's a lot of these round, black things in there."

Bradon grinned. "I didn't know what they were either. I had to ask the computer. Turns out they are the recording medium of the twentieth century. The songs are on those. I think you press those buttons there?" he said as he pointed to the long panel that stretched the front of the machine. "What's that inside? Instructions?"

"I dunno. But some of them have numbers." She pressed corresponding buttons to an intriguing-looking record about a 'Thunderstruck.' The machine sprung to life, flipping through the oblong objects until it came to one labeled in the center as AC/DC, gently placing it into the central pin. A mechanical arm came down, resting a small needle on the edge of the object, as the object itself began to spin around.

And then the music started. To the pilot's surprise, it sounded... not lame. "... Oh. It's a music player!"

"That it is," Bradon said as he listened to the music. "And not too bad, either. Kinda like the beat." He began to move away from the machine when a wave of dizziness overcame him. He swayed, then dropped to his knees, eyes shut, hands holding his face.

"Ow man, that's not good," he muttered as he did his best to keep his balance. "Not good at all."

As with most medically-related events, Alika took the moment, stood, and stared. What did one do in an emergency like this? Was this an emergency? He was talking. He wasn't bleeding. He wasn't frothing at the mouth like the movies said would happen if certain bacterial/viral/burger-related diseases got out. She knew something was going around, but what it was...

"Hey, you alright?" she finally asked, putting her hands on her knees and kneeling over to get a better look. "Should I go get the doctor?"

Bradon felt odd. That was the best way to put it. The pain in his head had stopped. The music from the jukebox was blending in with his thoughts, making his brain mellow.

He heard a voice near him, saying something about a doctor. He opened his eyes and looked up to stare into the face of an angel.

Smiling widely, he looked up at her. "Beautiful," he whispered. "You are so beautiful!" She was, and for some reason that made him giggle. Which, coming out of him, sounded quite odd.

"Are you an angel sent here to save me?"

Bradon's shift in mannerisms were not the first she had seen this week. "... Far from an angel, brah. How about we get you somewhere that knows what's going on?"

Bradon looked blearily at Alika. "That's probably a good idea," he said slowing, taking the time to euneciate clearly. He was not thinking very well at all.

With her help he got to his feet, then shambled toward the exit, and Sickbay.

OFF:

Bradon Gordon
Chief Engineer
SS Mary Rose

Alika Mahone
First Officer
SS Mary Rose

 

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