This is the seventh part of the compiled, spliced, and edited log of the “2008 Mary Sue Invasion” role-play. It concerns the skirmish in the Medical Department. The writing in this section comes from the following Boarders:
Agent Jennifer Robinson had made so many TARDIS trips between FicPsych, Medical, and New Caledonia that she hardly knew when or where she was anymore. The news that the quarantine had been lifted barely registered. Wounded agents began filtering into Medical, sometimes under their own power, sometimes supported by their comrades, who had cared for them as best they could until now. She circled her adopted ward again and again, delivering instructions, giving a hand where it was needed, allowing a trickle of power to pass from her to the weakest. Sometimes she received an odd look from the most perceptive agents, but most of them were oblivious. At least, Jenni told herself, at least supplies weren’t an issue, and at least so many unhurt agents were willing to pitch in however they could. That made it bearable.
Then the broadcast.
There was a pause throughout Medical, then a sigh and an anxious mutter of voices. Mary-Sues in HQ? What would they do? So few could fight right now. Everyone was so tired. Barricade! No! More would try to make it here—the doors must be open. Insanity! Madness! Well, what do you expect, anyway?
Through the voices, Jenni pushed her way toward the main entrance to the Department, picking up as many green-banded nurses and able-bodied agents as she could find along the way. They found Dr. Fitzgerald at the doors, already speaking to his more senior staff.
“The doors stay open,” he said firmly. “We have a duty. You agents: fighting ’Sues is your department. Do what you can.”
With that, he was gone back into the warren of wards, along with most of the regular Medical staff. The remainder looked around at each other, determined but uncertain about exactly how to follow Fitzgerald’s command. Many were from Departments unused to combat who had survived the macroviruses by sheer luck. Only a few had weapons with them.
Jenni sighed heavily. “Listen,” she called. “Listen to me! It’s not enough to stand around in the doorway. We need warning if ’Sues are coming this way. We need some people to watch the halls and give the alarm. We need multiple lines of defense. Those healers still here—myself included—we’ll keep you as well as we can, but it’s up to you to make it work. Me, I’ll be up with the watchers. I can tell you whether someone is possessed or not. Who’s coming with me?”
“Me,” said Agent Sedri tiredly, raising a hand in an exhausted mockery of schoolroom obedience. Lifting a short sword and a handgun she added, “I’ll take hall patrol, but I’m not going alone. Anyone else coming?”
There was scattered nodding and tired murmurs from other agents.
Sedri hesitated, then walked over to Agent Jennifer and quietly gestured to a Bajoran girl on the floor. “Iza’s still out cold, but when she comes to, drag her up to help watch,” Sedri advised. “She’s still useless with weapons, but she can spot OOCness a mile off.”
Jenni nodded and made a mental note, then took a closer look at the bruises that covered Iza’s thin face. She frowned at the conscious woman. “Was she possessed?”
Sedri nodded. “Had to slam her into a few walls to keep from killing her on the way. Can you cure her, or do we just keep her sedated until all this is over?”
Jenni examined the Bajoran’s face, tapping lightly into her extra senses to save the time of getting a tricorder. She shook her head. “Better not wake her too soon,” she replied. “Her zygomatic arch—cheekbone—could be fractured on that side. It would be very painful.”
Jenni waved a nurse over and tersely explained the situation. The nurse nodded and went for help to carry Iza to a safer place.
“She’ll be looked after,” Jenni told Sedri. “Let’s get going.”
She led the contingent of scouts into the halls, followed by those agents who’d decided to form first and second ranks behind them. As it happened, it wasn’t necessary to spot possessed agents anymore, but Jenni, with her senses wide open, felt the ’Sues coming before they got there. She swiftly alerted the scouts. Maybe they could all get a shot off before retreating back to the first rank.
Fortunately, there weren’t very many. Twenty, maybe thirty of them. Clearly they didn’t expect a bunch of wounded to put up much resistance to their bedside manner—more nightshade than Nightingale, Jenni thought bitterly. They cooed and awwed as they approached, promising rest and healing, but certainly not the kind you’d get in Medical.
“Take ’em out,” Jenni advised with a curl of her lip. “And tell them from me that Healing Sex is not a legitimate medical procedure.”
Agents Kamkenta Duval and Omicron (the latter being a humanized Dalek from EotD) charged into the ward. “EX-TER-MIN-ATE!” yelled Omicron, and the Sues dropped like flies. “BY THE WAY, HEA-LING SEX IS NOT A LE-GI-TI-MATE TREAT-MENT.”
Most of the Sues were screaming, but one, a defiant Warrior!Sue, said “Could have fooled me, you overgrown saltshaker. Now let me at Agent Rouge and noone—” BLAM! Kamkenta shot her in the gut.
“Ooh,” the Sue wailed, “you meen flamerz, I only wanted my Rougiwoo.”
April spotted a Sue from her own continuum, complete with an uberspeshul daemon in the form of a wilver raven. She glanced at Fitch, still on her shoulder. "Let’s get her.” The magpie daemon flew with a vengeance at the shiny raven, while April drew a nasty-looking probe thing from its holster and charged the Sue. “DIE!”
Lora took out two Sues with her phaser. “April, why do Sues believe sexual intercourse to heal all wounds?” the android asked.
“Not the time to ask!” April shouted, jabbing the Sue in the eye.