damned_institute | Day 46: Lunch

The mere fact that she'd been susceptible to whatever hold the Institute had had on her yesterday was sufficient to leave Ayumu both upset and angry - no, not angry, downright furious, both at herself and whoever was responsible for that. But there was also the fact that because of it, she'd lost out on an entire day of work, and in several ways had ruined some of what she'd done already. That little conversation with Himura the day before, for instance, was something she'd sincerely prefer not to remember if she'd had any choice in the matter.

Unless the man was a complete moron, which, unfortunately, was one thing she couldn't believe of him, he had to have realized just who her brother was. After all the effort to keep that fact quiet (not exactly a secret, but certainly not advertised; half the Shinsengumi probably never even realized it because there was no reason to) she'd gone and chatted about it with him. Told him all about it, practically painted a bright target around a weakness that shouldn't have existed in the first place.

She'd spent the shift in the Sun Room pretending to sleep, while in truth forcing herself into calm. After years of practice she could shunt away the useless and distracting emotions, focusing only on what was important and needed to be at the forefront of her mind, and by the time the intercom signaled the lunch period she was feeling considerably calmer. The time to silently observe others had, as well, alerted her to something she probably should have noticed earlier: Mello was back. Would her previous objective be reinstated now? He seemed to have far less of a bulletin presence this time, so perhaps not. Still, though, it bore investigating.

None of her thoughts were visible, of course, as she moved through the line, examining the lunch selection somewhat dubiously. Now with the benefit of Yuuko's memories she might recognize the food, but she certainly didn't share the enthusiasm for it that her imaginary self apparently had. Ayumu skipped past that part and settled for the salad bar and some bread, then positioned herself in a place where she could watch both the door and the rest of the room, setting her journal open in front of herself as though planning to write something. There was far too much that she'd missed, too much work to do now.

[for Okita]

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

The rec field? Maybe that was where they'd found Jim last night. He filed it away for later. He didn't see why TK-622 was telling him to see some Cooking Club. Cooking wasn't what he was interested in.

As tempting, and sensible, getting a weapon sounded, McCoy already had his priorities elsewhere. Last night he'd been faced with just how under-equipped he was to deal with any form of medical emergence. Know-how could only go so far before you started needed ways to actually disinfect and seal wounds. They couldn't close themselves."I appreciate the offer, but I wanted to track down medical supplies first. Any idea where I could get those?"

With any luck, he knew where he could find some hypos, dermal regenerators, something. McCoy had a general idea of where to go. Not all hospitals were the same, but you, generally, could find things in similar areas, like a pharmacy or storage area. But seeing as he'd never visited this facility until now, he didn't know the layout. It'd be much faster if he could get directions before night fell.

"There's a room on the second floor," 622 pulled out his journal (real paper, he still couldn't get over how weird that was), and turned to the page where he had carefully copied out the maps that had been available on the bulletin, pointing to the pharmacy. "There's also a group of medics that I've collected supplies for. You might be able to contact them over the bulletin as well, but the recent censorship might make things difficult. Hence rather odd names like 'cooking club'." But come to think of that, they'd been using that name for weeks. Weird civvies.

"They don't have anything that looked modern to me, though. Just period for whatever level of technology this is supposed to be."

McCoy leaned over a little to get a better view of the map, taking note of where that room was. It really all hinged on just how well-stocked it was, and he didn't think it'd just be left unlocked either, but it was a start.

"Thanks," McCoy muttered. He was still tracing a mental path from his room to that second floor room. After a moment he leaned back.

It was strange that the staff felt they could get anywhere by censoring the patients, especially if they were the very ones responsible for letting them loose at night. What was the point if all parties knew something different was going on?

"You said there's a group of medics. Are we talking Starfleet associated medics or independent?"

"I can make a copy of the map if you want," 622 offered. It wouldn't be brilliant, but at least he could draw straight lines.

"Unfortunately, I haven't a clue what you're talking about. I've never heard of a government that calls their navy 'Starfleet'. They aren't from the same organizations, however." Was he going to have to explain the multiple universes theory? He really didn't want to, it always made him sound like he was completely bonkers.

"I'd appreciate that," he replied.

Finding another person who hadn't heard of Starfleet wasn't as surprising this time around. McCoy decided it was better to let the matter drop for now. So far there were people here completely unaware that space travel was popular, followed by the opposite end of the spectrum, like Jim, Spock and Hayes. The Sargeant hadn't made it clear yet just where he fit in on that. Bad enough he'd almost violated the Prime Directive once already.

"You sound like you know the run of this place. How long have you been here?"

622 started copying out the map, trying to work efficiently. He wasn't exactly a cartographer, but he'd do his best.

"Nineteen days. It doesn't sound like much, but... A lot of people tend to either die or just disappear." He looked up from his notepad. "I'm glad we have another person with medical skills now, sir. This place patches people up at the end of each night, but we don't have many people to act as medics during the night."

The doctor was silent for a moment.

"And no one's said anything?!" McCoy exclaimed. The idea that any medical practitioner would willingly risk their patient's lives was inconceivable. It wasn't clear what TK-622 meant by "disappearing either". He would have assumed death, if the Sergeant hadn't just covered it, and that left the alternative ominously open-ended. How was this allowed to happen?

McCoy watched him continuing copying the map. "I don't doubt that," he grumbled. It certainly sounded like he was going to have plenty of work cut out for him.

"The staff don't acknowledge it. They just say people are 'released', but that includes the dead." His face hardened. They'd told him Armand had been 'released' too. He'd come so close to losing control.

"There are a certain number of people with military training here, as well as the organized search and rescue teams, but there are always some people that don't see sense and form up groups with little or no combat experience. I've been personally focusing on helping those people as much as I can."

McCoy nodded grimly. He'd want to verify this with more than one patient anyhow. The charges the Sergeant was leveling were very heavy, but if the lack of professionalism he'd seen already was anything to go by, it wouldn't be too far-fetched.

"That's very altruistic of you, Sergeant," he said absently. His mind was still focused on what TK-622 had told him about the staff. He wondered just how the Federation would deal with this facility if they came down on it ever. If there was evidence of malpractice, patient abuse and death, there would certainly be a need to intervene.

Edited 2009-12-22 02:09 (UTC)

"It's just the right thing to do. There's no one else even from any Imperial systems here, so I just do what I can to represent the Corps as they should be," he said, however jarringly naïve it might sound. It made sense. It gave him structure. And that was important. He'd been lacking structure recently.

Imperial systems? Probably the organization he was from. There were plenty of star systems that they hadn't discovered. Plenty that were independent from the Federation.

"Well, I'm glad you're doing it all the same." McCoy said. "Not everyone can watch out for themselves. So someone needs to."

"They do." 622 finished the last few lines of the map and handed it across the table. "Is there anything else I can do to help?" It wasn't as if he had anything else he should be doing right now.

McCoy took the map. "Much obliged."

He took the time to look it over. The map was neatly copied, and showed a clear way towards several rooms on the second floor. He'd find out tonight whether it was trustworthy or not. McCoy pocketed it for now.

"You've helped plenty, Sergeant. Thank you."

Day 46: Lunch

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