So she wasn't wearing her suit with the wig and mask right now. In a way, during the attack, she understood that maybe it just didn't matter as much anymore. Coincidentally, it was also when she was beat up the most. Even when she had faced that messed up Cain fucker after Sasami, she hadn't been as injured as this. Being thrown against a wall, shot a few times (thank you barrier jacket) and straining every part of her body to its max would pay a toll, and with everything being so wonky, the Overlord's healer hadn't gotten to her.

So here she was. In med bay. Barely conscious.

And she still needed a new cook, damn it!

The crew that returned from Hendersus Villae following their rescue mission was not the same crew that had been sent there in the first place.

Well, they were. They just wouldn't look like they were for a few more hours.

Goliath, Kang, Rainbow Dash, and Crematia were all still stuck as humans, and the reassurance they'd gotten from Zarom Ghartha that their transformation would expire in roughly one day's time was surely enough to allay some of their lingering discomfort with finding themselves still in the wrong bodies, but unfortunately, no amount of reassurance could completely relieve their situation of awkwardness.

Awkward or not, though, they all needed rest and medical attention, so there was no hiding out while the curse wore off. Not unless they wanted to spend the next 12 hours still hungry, tired, and injured to various degrees.

[ooc: setting up subthreads for individual character reactions is a-go!]

Of all things, Ian hadn't been expected to be bested by a tree. That it was a tree that moved without the wind should have given him a clue, but, well, it was a tree. He'd got too close, it got a good hit in, he'd landed awkwardly and now he couldn't walk.

It was only his ankle and, feeling embarrassed about the whole thing, he'd intended to just hobble home. Except that it did really hurt. So halfway there he found the nearest teleport and ended up in the medbay.

When he had been sedated and placed into the pods, Daimon Hellstrom's heart felt as though it were on fire. When he woke the pain had spread to his entire body. He had been released into one of the halls but he couldn't stand again. He didn't even have the strength to stay on his hands and knees and collapsed onto the floor.

"No." He whispered.

Daimon heard Stacy's gentle, encouraging voice in his head but not listening. He couldn't make out the words.

It was impossible to focus on anything but the pain. He couldn't remember where he'd been before now. He tried to clear his mind and focus but it was useless.

"Months," the word kept running through his mind. Why?

You're dying. And with the realization came other memories. His weakness, his chest pains, all symptoms he had ignored for as long as he could until he saw Dr. Hussain. Somehow, he knew he was dying. He could feel it but until she said "less than six months" he hadn't realized how quickly it was all happening.

Now that time was gone. He had spent it in the pods as Stacy tried in vain to heal him.

Daimon clawed at the floor but even his attempts to crawl failed.

Not yet. God, please not yet. Patsy. Let me see Patsy one more time.

Faffing about on his omnicom had Sherlock mildly entertained for a bit, but it didn't last long. Five minutes into the movies John had brought, the consulting detective had slumped back on his Medbay bed insisting that movies were boring (because everything was boring at the moment) and demanding to be knocked unconscious until he was allowed to leave. When John pointed out that injuring him further was slightly counterproductive in regards to him getting out of Medbay, he went into a world-class sulk.

It wasn't so much that he was bored as the fact he was bored and there was an entire spaceship to go poking and prodding around in. The boredom was multiplied and magnified by the fact that there were things to do, advancements in forensic science (and biology and chemistry...) he could read about and so on.

There could be zombies somewhere! Actual living, breathing zombies! Never mind the part where zombies weren't alive and didn't breathe.

At first, the crime rate--or lack thereof--had had him worried this whole venture would be hopelessly tiresome, but apparently, there was more going on than met the eye. (Zombies!)

After his "your movies are boring" based tantrum, John had been in and out of the Medbay, taking advantage of Sherlock's little fit of petulant disinterest in anything but leaving to go prod around the ship himself.

Nothing to do. The whole ship was out there waiting for Sherlock. And where was that tea he asked for from that random stranger? He'd conveniently kept the biscuits given to him by that other random stranger.

"Zombie strippers. Honestly."

At this point, he was fairly certain John selected one-third of the movies they watched because of the explosions in them, one-third because they involved some sort of historical warfare, and the last one-third because of how much he thought Sherlock was going to yell at the screen. Of course, toss in the ones John watched because the actresses in them were attractive and it messed up all the proportions.

For the archeological team that went to Kalimba on Stacy's mission, they've been gone for six months give or take. Six months of being held prisoner and tortured. None of them have any idea that they've only been gone a few days as far as the rest of Stacy are concerned, something they'll discover sooner rather than later presumably.

When they do arrive back Vala's on the brink of collapse, barely able to stand up or stay conscious. She'd been injected with poison and used as a booby trap for the Goa'uld Sobek that had used Daniel as a host for six months and she still has the dead Goa'uld inside her. Whether it's that or the poison that's in her system or the signs of malnutrition or a combination of all of the above is unclear but in a nutshell, she's not looking good even if the naquadah in her bloodstream is helping her a little.

Right now she's laid out on a bed in medbay, still dressed in the skimpy ceremonial Goa'uld robes and hoping someone knows how to get this 'thing' that's wound itself around her spinal chord out of her. When she can stay lucid enough to think about it that is.

[OOC: Open to those who were on the Kalimba mission and Medical Staff]

Howard made sure they arrive to Med Bay early, not just because he doesn't want to be late but because if he impresses on Orc to hurry up, Orc might not have time to get completely smashed before they do this thing. Howard would rather not deal with blackout-drunk Orc, but at the same time he doesn't want Orc sober enough to be obstinate or miserable, so they did a stop at the beer tree before coming here.

He invited Barbara and Ian because they were very game for the food excursion, despite is propensity for total revulsion. He invited Anwei because he wants to be close with her again, at least, as close as he gets to people who aren't Orc. And because she brings a new perspective to Stacy, one that's been proven to be more viable than he presumed.

He wanders through the hospital beds and sets up the coffee pot. No reason not to go into a brand spanking new adventure caffeinated. The Medical Bay is large enough that meeting here doesn't even register on the people working actual shifts.

"You want coffee?" He fills up a mug for himself and glances over at Orc. He hopes they aren't waiting long enough for Orc to get impatient or lose interest.

Howard's nervous. It's not as if this is a new feeling for him, or even one that's unusual, but he's more nervous than he typically is. He sits in a far-off section of the Medical Bay with Sakura, away from prying eyes, and chews on his pen. He's currently on his second pot of coffee.

"Worst thing about Stacy time is that I can't even bitch that they're late."

Behind them, on a giant lab table, rests the thawing body of their dissected Ohm. It's clearly spent a little too long in the freezer, because one of its toes actually broke off during the transportation, and true to his nature Howard's wondering if said digit is edible. The corpse also stinks up this section of the Medical Bay a little like dead fish.

If the damn thing weren't so hard to move around, and if they weren't guaranteed a relative amount of privacy here, Howard would suggest they do this somewhere else (somewhere with a big windshield he could hide behind while everyone else does the dangerous stuff and possibly deals with crazy Ohmed up Jaime), but there really isn't another place that would work for it.

So they sit and wait for Kon and Jaime.

[Tag order is Sakura, Jaime, Kon, then we go from there.]

"One, two, three, four..." Howard glances over his shoulder and slips another bottle of painkillers into his sleeve. It's a late shift, mostly quiet, and due to the fact that Med Bay's unreasonably gigantic, Howard's feeling safe enough to get away with kiping a few more things for his hoard. He managed to find some of the emergency medical supplies in a secluded cabinet.

He has a few reasons to be taking things from the medical bay. Terminators taking over the Med Bay and choking off the supply of medical equipment is still a fresh memory, and he runs his fingertips over the scar above his ear he received in that fight. And superimposed over that is the deep, ingrained paranoia of never having enough when it matters. He still wakes up most nights with nightmares about running out of medicine, out of food, out of water, out of air.

And secondly, he just doesn't care about other people's property rights. If they didn't want him to take things they'd nail them down.

He slides the fourth bottle of pills from his sleeve to his pocket in one deft movement and takes a fifth.

Ever since the medical briefing on the comms, the medical bay staff has been preparing for an influx of appointments for physical evaluations, as well as a few walk-ins. After that, the hunt will be on for those who've been skipping such appointments.

A few of the staff members are going about their regular duties, expecting patients or simply biding time at the coffee machine until they're called on.

[OOC: please state the name of which med character(s) you want to administer the evaluation in the header to your comment. If you're fine with anyone tagging in, please indicate so. Available characters are Sakura, Howard, Dr. Faiza Hussain, Soren and Dr. Carson Beckett.]

Who: Rory and Molly, Everyone
Where: Med Bay
Summary: Rory takes his daughter to work with him, works on supply lists.
Warnings: None

( Downtime  )

Carson has found his way to the Medical section, after spending a day exploring the accessible areas of the ship, and is a bit hesitant as he walks in.

"H-Hello?"

He's feeling a wee bit out of place, but he needs to get this over with!

If you ignore something it goes away, right? At least, that's what should happen, and would be happening if the world were any semblance of fair, which it isn't.

Not that that stops Howard from trying; he has, in fact, been going to a lot of effort to avoid certain people in the Med Bay. He's rescheduled his shifts. He's taken the back way around in to the department. He's mostly been sticking to areas in the city where he's least likely to run into a certain Rory Williams - and that's to say nothing of the 'I hope you die' telepathic vibes he's trying to give off.

Honestly, it's probably a good thing for everyone that Howard doesn't have superpowers.

And yet, the problem with working with only so many coworkers as can be counted on his fingers is that eventually, Howard can't keep scheduling shifts away from one of them. Someone will call him on it, and then he'll have to explain the whole ugly affair, which mostly consists of Howard being a baby and taking things personally and just not wanting to do anything but splash blame all over the place like a loosed firehose full of hatred.

Deep down, he knows that. But that kernel of deep-down knowledge is buried beneath stacks and stacks of rationalizations and defense mechanisms that make it very, very easy to hate Rory and everything associated with him, a list which includes: Romans, the British, that weird dirty blond hair color, people with pointy noses, babies, nurses, and using the word 'biscuit' when you obviously mean 'cookie'.

And that's why he's glaring down at his paperwork in the Med Bay when Rory approaches, thinking that now would be an awfully nice time to develop the psychic ability to smite.

Clearly, the best way to deal with the horror of a massive robot attack on your home is to go straight to work right after it. The medics are still looking a little beat up, but for the most part they're taped back together well enough. Howard's still wearing a bandage around his mostly-healed head wound and a brace around his broken ankle; it got fixed up enough to walk on, but that's about it.

On the upside, instead of the usual paper-shuffling, cell culturing and database maintaining that the Med Bay underlings have been doing lately, today they have a project. A big, exciting project that is splayed across a 30-foot table Stacy provided for them.

"Whoa, this thing stinks, flash frozen or not."

Howard puts on a surgical mask and some gloves. Science has already had their way with the Ohm Shrike's body, but that still leaves plenty for them to learn and deduce about the Shrike anatomy and hopefully, its weaknesses.

And honestly, Howard kind of just wants to cut something up after the BS that was the last few days for him.

"Hey, Chakra Spice, you ready?"

It had literally been a day after being released from GLaDOS (oh, she was going to give that bit of AI a piece of her mind, no doubt ... ) when it started. The message from Shodan, the ship shutdowns, the robots ... one AI for another, great. Just her luck, right? But there was a problem with this situation: the medbay was under her control. Martha could sit back and allow other places to be taken (albeit with much anger and gnashing of teeth) but the medbay was not one.

So she set out with one stupid goal in mind: get into the Medbay. Yeah, thinking it out only went so far, and as smart as Martha knew she was she was also tenacious as hell. At least she could grab some supplies, maybe smaller equipment, something to help the people in need. She walked around the entire Earth in a death-zone, how hard could a trip to the Medbay be?

Currently hiding behind a convenient outcropping of the ship, listening for the disappearing metal footfalls of some robotic creature, and trying to keep her heart rate and breathing down, it would likely be much harder than she thought. Maybe she could use some help.

Howard prefers the follow-ups and the desk work to the actual field work. The field work usually ends up with him almost getting crushed, getting shot at, getting various cuts and scrapes, getting chased by wild animals, getting choked, so on, so forth, ad nauseum. The follow-ups just mean he has to hound people he bandaged up to come back in make sure they're healing, and deal with some bad attitudes. And most people's bad attitudes have little on Howard's, certain coworkers exempted.

The unfortunate thing about Stacy's weird sense of time is that nobody can be expected to keep exactly to an appointment, so Howard's been puttering around the Med Bay for a little while before Sandy and Hana show up. Mostly going through people's files and poking his pen at one of the machines they grabbed on Galilee, although he doesn't dare turn it on - for all he knows, it's for seamless amputation of body parts.

"Finally," he huffs when they get here.

Sam was still beside himself, so very excited that Jared was actually here. His brother, here on the ship. He couldn't be happier.

So here they were, in his Medbay, having a drink together. "...and so let all of that stew for a while, and it changes into this." He tipped his glass toward Jared's for a celebratory clink. He spun a bit in his chair, about a half rotation, back and forth. "Oh, I haven't shown you the best part." He typed a bit on his console and addressed an area ahead of him, toward the middle of the room they were in. "Emergency Medical Hologram?"

And there he appeared. "Please state the nature of the emergency," he said automatically. "You seem rather relaxed, Dr. Henderson."

Sam glanced over to Jared with a look that plainly said: Is this cool or what?

Everything hurt, which was why Devlin opened his eyes. Taking a breath was painful--his nose was broken, and when he tried to take a breath through his mouth, he felt the pain from his broken ribs and sternum. He tried not to, but he breathed shakily, as if he was going to cry.

After the battle, the warriors' task was over. Their job, for now, was to rest and recover for the time being.

The healers' job, on the other hand, was far from over. Some exhausted from the battle, others rotating in, they took to their bay and continued the process of treating the wounded. Some patients were free to leave in a few minutes, while others would have some time (or quite some time) on the cots. Their mission: relax. Stay as still as possible.

Unfortunately, the temptation of so many familiar faces alive and about would ultimately prove to be too great. Keeping track of this group was going to be a third task all its own.

[this is a free for all for all your injured! Have them socialize, be thorns in the medics' side, try to escape, or bring the medics together for some action. Just note in your post if you'd like a medic to visit your character---if not, it's time for a chat!]

Daimon fought with himself the entire walk to Medbay. He had put this off long enough- too long, really. If there was anything that could be done for him then his delay only hurt his chances. But if, as he felt in his heart, there was nothing...

It was easier, in a way, not knowing for certain. He could ignore the failings of his body, rationalize them away. He could continue his relationship with Patsy without fearing how it might end. He could make plans for the future. But inside he knew the truth, he knew what was happening, and he couldn't pretend anymore.

And so Daimon Hellstrom arrived in Medbay not early for his appointment but on time- or as close as you could come to it on Stacy.