outer_divide | 001

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001 | [voice]

[After finding her clothes and things, Christine is tiptoeing through the ship, expecting an enemy around every corner. But when she comes to the hatch that leads out, she feels a rush of relief. Slipping outside, she takes in her surroundings, and then tries the communicator in her hand -- one that looks so much like one from the Enterprise that she assumes she can reach her ship.]

Chapel to Enterprise. I'm at an unknown location. I was captured and placed in some sort of stasis pod. Requesting you beam me up immediately.

[She waits, and nothing happens. Nor is there any response from the transporter team. Uh oh.]

Enterprise, come in?

[More silence. Sighing, she begins to move away from the crashed ship, wondering if there's something about it that's blocking her signal. She looks curiously at the domed city in the distance, and the landscape surrounding her. Then she speaks to herself.]

Where am I?

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[It takes a moment for Bones to process that voice, and then he's grabbing for his own communicator and slapping it in place above his workspace. Thus, it doesn't take long at all for the image of one Dr. Leonard McCoy to form up, against a backdrop of rather primitive lab equipment and with one eyebrow arched to an angle that would make Spock proud.]

I really wish they'd stop yanking people back every time someone new from the ship wakes up, but I'll take it over nobody at all.

You're on a planet called Verdana, Nurse Chapel. No sign of the Enterprise, and we're not sure we're even in the same galaxy as Earth at this point. There's some shenanigans involving time and cross-dimensional travel that the engineering types are obsessing over, but I've been stuck dealing with bioengineered plagues and now trying to restart the immune system of someone who hasn't got one.

Good to see you. Now get down to the hospital here and help me out.

[Well hello to you too. Christine stares at the screen, finally realizing that this can't be a Starfleet communicator, and trying to digest all he's saying.]

So time shenanigans mean you've been here for awhile, I'm guessing? And where is this hospital, sir? Is it under that dome?

No, the dome is full of trigger-happy paranoid maniacs and the oppressed citizens of their regime. I'd recommend giving it a pass.

[Bones' expression grows abstract, and enlarged, as he pulls his communicator (disguised as a PADD) from its place and accesses its onboard stores. It's the work of a moment to send along a rough copy of a local map, with the hospital and a few other locations annotated.]

There. And I'd give it a couple months now. Being a doctor, not a theoretical physicist, I'm stranded until someone else figures out how to put us all back where we belong. Fortunately, there's one of those running around... and we used to have Jim, but the pods on board the ship are tricky. Sometimes people get pulled back into stasis, and he was one of them.

[The communicator makes a ding sound and alerts her to the incoming file. A moment later she has it open and -- on a whim -- she pinches the screen with her fingers to see if she can zoom in and out. It works, and she sees the path towards the hospital. Then she closes it so she can see her boss's face again.]

And he'd be out by now if there was any way for us to open them from the outside? That or it'll kill him if we try to open it, I'm guessing.

[She makes her way down towards the old city like the map showed her.]

Is there a local population in this city, or is everyone there from the pods too?

A fellow named Tony Stark managed to find a way to get the pods working as life support during the plague, but waking someone we'd intentionally put in versus waking someone that's gone back into stasis... let's just say that I don't want to risk depriving the multiverse of our captain's brilliance before he gets the chance to blow himself up.

[Just because Kirk is in stasis doesn't mean that Bones, best friend as much as he is the subordinate-with-veto-rights that is CMO, can't razz him in absentia. His eyes are a little bleak, for all that.]

Outside the dome, the city's population is in the low thousands, and there are around forty of us from the ship that are awake and about. There used to be more, but the plague took it down by nearly two thousand people in a matter of weeks before we could get antivirals and a vaccine rolled out.

It's safe now. Mordin Solus, the doctor that worked with me on that, is off on a rickety boat with a group of people to make sure the vaccine spreads.

[She frowns at the screen.]

I don't know if it's a good thing I missed all that or not. On the one hand, I wasn't around to catch the plague, on the other, I could have helped you.

[And yeah, there's petty jealousy there that someone else got to develop medicine to stop the spread of it with him. That's her job.]

How are people doing in the aftermath?

You could have. Next time you find yourself pulled across time and realities, Chapel, try to be more punctual.

[It may be petty jealousy, but Bones can appreciate the sentiment of missing out on a role that was supposed to be yours. That he acknowledges this through teasing snark is just proof that this is actually Leonard McCoy, M.D.]

The people here are resilient. Lord knows they have to be, with neighbours like the Authorities. They have a yearly festival on their winter solstice, features memorial pyres as well as booze and dancing, so ritual helps. As do all the other coping mechanisms humanity's ever employed in a crisis... how's your obstetric medicine?

[Her lips twitch with a smile, but then her expression smooths out and she tries to look serious.]

Of course, sir. I'll get a better watch, sir.

[But now on to other things.]

My-- oh, uh, just the basics, I'm afraid. There's never been the opportunity to use what I know in the field, so to speak.

[And it irks her that she doesn't have practical experience in it, now that he's asked her.]

[He smirks at that, but not in an unfriendly fashion. His amusement appears to be directed at the comic joke that's landed them on the planet, if anything.]

Well, give it about, oh, seven more months and I expect we'll both be getting a sudden crash course. The local midwives handle the uncomplicated ones, at least.

Right now, the routine's about what you'd expect on any small colony world with minimal technology. The spikes come in the form of raids, be they bandit or dome-dwelling maniac, and then it's our old friend combat medicine, with the added fun of primitive 20th century equipment.

[She nods along, though her eyes widen in shock when she hears how old the equipment is tech wise.]

Well, I'll just have to rise to the challenge.

[Though really, how inconvenient.]

I do have my medkit with me. The battery power on the equipment isn't going to last forever, but it's something to have a scanner for better diagnosis.

They decanted me with mine too, and although Solus is off playing Pirates of Penzance, he came through with his kit as well. Between that and the possibilities of a couple old facilities we turned up while working on the cure... we'll make do.

[From Bones, this is very nearly unbridled optimism. He must be happy to see his head nurse.]

There are enough engineers underfoot that I've no doubt they could rig up a charger from the ship, at least as soon as they get it to stop randomly haemorrhaging power. Once we've gotten you acclimated to the hospital, though, I'm taking you by Edmund's stores and you're getting some proper winter gear. I can't have my head nurse as a pneumonia patient.

If I did come down with something, I know I'd get the best medical care.

[Not even sucking up right now; she believes it.]

But I would appreciate a better wardrobe. All I have is my uniform dress.

[At least she picked the one with long sleeves for today, but her legs are freezing.]

Far be it from me to question Starfleet regulations...

[Lies. He questions them frequently. Which, he would note, is different from Jim's blatant decisions to just flat out ignore them if they get in the way.]

But I swear they assigned the womens' shipboard uniforms without thinking for one minute that you might no longer be aboard ship. We can definitely get you something -- Edmund seems to be of the opinion that trained medical staff are worth keeping clothed, fed and happy.

Okay, sounds good. Who's Edmund? Is he someone in charge?

[His gaze shifts from her face for a moment, marking the background against what he knows of the road between ship and city to gauge how far she's come.]

Edmund's the local master of trade. The head of what passes for local government would be Nem -- good man, a little nervous, responsible for there being food and housing set up for new arrivals from the ship. Our third player in the local power structure would be Roni. She's in charge of the local militia, such as it is.

So they're not from the ship then? This is their home planet?

[She's a little more than halfway there now, and several people have offered to come meet her to escort her in. Once she meets one of these people, she'll end her conversation with Dr. McCoy and reconvene with him at the hospital.]

That it is, although only god and little green apples know when the place was colonized originally. I believe I mentioned the time-and-space shenanigans, so this might not even be our galaxy. No matches on star charts, in any case.

[Which is, says Bones' expression, completely ridiculous and should never have happened without consulting him first.]

There's a sister planet, Antiqua, that comes into a close convergence around the time of the solstice. Interplanetary war between the two of them is apparently what led to the domes going up to begin with, but there's no sign of current hostilities.

[Her eyes flicker skyward, though there are no stars to be seen this time of day.]

That would drive Mr. Chekov batty.

[And back to the screen.]

So the domes are meant to protect the citizens. What about the people out here? Were they people who didn't want to go in the domes, or weren't allowed in?

Batty, at least until he could get to work on mapping what we do have. I'd give my eyeteeth for him and Scott, though, and I don't mind saying so.

[If they bring a critical mass of engineering nerd onto Verdana, will it all explode and get them home again?]

As for the domes, that's another of Verdana's little mysteries. I haven't had the time to dig after history here that doesn't involve biowarfare, but if you want a hobby I'd be all ears.

You must have missed everyone, being here without the crew, and the Captain going back into the ship.

[She certainly wouldn't mind having more of the crew here. Strength in numbers, and all that.]

We'll have to see what there is here to occupy my time first, Doctor. Then I can worry about hobbies.

If we're going to be talking about my feelings, I'm not doing it without a couple drinks in front of us. I got by well enough -- plaguefighting is remarkably focusing.

[In short: yes, yes he did, but he doesn't want to talk about it. The corner of his mouth curled up belatedly.]

True. You'll have to challenge the nursing staff to single combat, or whatever it is you folks do to establish a hierarchy... although wherever you end up amongst the locals, you're my head nurse.

[The unexpected compliment makes her grin.]

Why, Doctor, I'm touched. Though the less you know about how I battle my way to the top, the better. You need plausible deniability.

They're short on chocolate here, or I'd fall back on the old standby of tossing a box in one direction and bolting in the other. Don't worry about me -- I survived hospital politics before I ended up with nothing left but Starfleet.

[Not that military medical services are entirely free of them. People who routinely play dice with death and weight them in their favour tend to develop god complexes wherever they are.]

While you're en route, I'll see about making sure there's a space for you at the Flop that doesn't have too many snorers in the room. It's either that or follow Solus' example of getting all his sleep in the break room.

[She's tempted to call that comment sexist, but damn it if she doesn't love her chocolate. She doesn't want to screw herself out of possible future opportunities to eat chocolate either, so she lets it go.]

Thank you. I don't have to share a bed, do I? I'm a kicker.

[Hey, chocolate is equal-opportunity or Bones has never seen a mixed-gender swarm of medical residents strip a leftover bowl of candy down to bare wrappers. He huffs a laugh at the question.]

No, we're not that bad off. There's only about forty of us awake from the ship, so it's multiple bunks in a room, but no sharing them yet. I figure more people will move out as time goes by, too.

001 | [voice]

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