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| - OOC Note: Lines in red are spoken in Mierz Medbay This brightly-lit bay is cordoned off into four main sections: the waiting area, the operating room, the semi-private rooms for the bed-ridden, and the checkup room. While nowhere near state of the art, the medbay is more than servicable and extremely clean, even if the magazines are several years old. A set of double doors lead out to the Residence Deck. After a good sleep later, Marcus comes in, wearing his blue surgical cap - rubber duckies swimming across - tied across his head, in his scrubs. He pulls two latex gloves from the container, and pulls them on. "Medic, administer epi to my patient. Let's wake him up. Pull the feeding and inbutationt tube first." The medic gets to work - Ivan would awaken within a few minutes, higher than a kite. His leg is wrapped up in a very thick dressing. Ivan does indeed wake up, and probably due to the meds, begins to babble in Mierz "Why is the cieling moving?"he asks as he stares in awe at the cieling "I need to learn how to do that..." he trails. Ryan's pulled back to conciousness, mainly by the voice, "Hey kid..." The voice croaks a litt.e "Private," greets Marcus, setting a hand on Ivan's head. "I'm going to do something real quick. Can you look at me?" he asks. "I'll explain your surgery in a moment." He pulls his penlight from his front pocket and shines it into Ivan's eyes several times, and then turns it off. "Medic, administer a light local anaesthetic to the General's burn sites, I'll be with him in a moment." He stands up, and writes some notes down. "Private," he waits until he has Ivan's attention. "You lost most of your leg in the explosion - I took the liberty of preserving the leg and reconstructing it. The muscle around your femur was charred, and had to be removed - I constructed an artificial support, and built muscle around it. You'll be walking with a cane for the rest of your life, but you will be walking, and it will be with your own leg." Ivan smirks at Marcus, turning to look at him Why would I not use my own leg?" he asks as he tilts his head to the side "And did I cause the explosion?" Jeff braces himself for the jab, and that brace seems to relax as the anaesthetic is administered. "Rightly so. Medic, I want a constant drip of saline. He's a lot of fluid left to lose," replies Marcus, giving a pat on Ivan's shoulder. He turns to Jeff, after the medic administers the anaesthetic. "General, funny you should appear in my pram after yesterday's discussion," greets Marcus, applying his stethoscope to various points on Ryan's chest and listening. "Just fix me," says Jeff. "And I haven't forgotten. You /will/ learn your place." Big words from the man on the bed. Ivan looks back up to the ceiling "I need to learn how to make it move like that..." he trails in facination. "And you will learn you are flesh and bone, General," replies Marcus. He exposes the burn sites, examining it. "I'm going to have to perform a minor operation to remove infarcted skin before it gets infected - it will be a local anaesthetic. As well as start you on a regimen of debridlement to prevent further infection. Medic, I need a scalpel and a clamp." He pauses, and looks at Jeff, awaiting the tools he needs. "My duty is to your health, general, above you and the militia. Piss me off all you want, threaten me all you want, and scream all the obscenities you want while I'm scrubbing your burns later - but you are safe in my hands." "I don't have a problem with your skills," says Ryan. "I have a problem with your attitude, arrogant up their own asses of any division do that to me. Fix me, we can have a chit-chat later." Ivan continues to just babble, looking to a nurse he indicates the ceiling "Do you know why it's moving? I want to figure out how so I can make it do that," he explains. "I saved his life," replies Marcus, beginning to cut into the numbed leg. "I believe that's credit enough, when any other surgeon would have amputated. Suction." "I do my job every day and don't expect credit," says the lunite. "Do yours and shut the fuck up." Ivan continues prodding the nurse, apparently expecting an answer "Why is the ceiling moving? I need to figure out how to do that,"he explains, babbling. Marcus sets the scalpel down. He looks up to the attending physician in the medbay. "Doctor," says Marcus, waiting for the man to come over. "I'm performing a dermectomy on General Ryan here, but he has requested another surgeon. If you will take over for me." He steps aside, pulling his gloves off, and dumping them in the biohazard. "Doctor San here is a surgical intern. He will be taking care of you now, General. Best of luck." Martin walks into the Medbay with a small package under his arm. He has changed his uniform sense he was last here. Norton is smoking a cigarette as he steps in, wiping his hands on the seat of his pants. "Found myself some new PT thanks to this little snafu." "Doctor San," says Jeff. "Call Dr Freyssinet and I'll clear her for access if you have a PDA." As Martin walks in, Ivan smirks, indicating the ceiling and asking "Why is it moving? I need to find out how so I can figure out how to make it do that," he looks expectantly to Martin before glancing to Marcus, asking as well "Why is the ceiling moving?" Marcus approaches Martin. "The Private will survive - with his leg intact," greets Marcus, pulling his surgical cap from his head. "Unfortunately, General Ryan is deciding how my operating room will run, so I am leaving the procedures to the residents and acting in a medic duty. Or whoever the General calls in." Norton ends up not too far from Marcus, "So, what's the status of the wounded jokers?" Jeff glances over at Norton, "That's two for an appointment when I'm fixed." His eyes dart to Marcus and then back to Norton. "Not my operating room. Speak to Doctor Jeff Ryan, he's running the show here, along with Bonzo the Clown and the Jolly Green Giant," replies Marcus, dumping his used equipment into a biohazard bin. Ivan doesn't seem to mind too terribly that his question isn't answered. As Jeff he speaks he looks to the Lunite, indicating the ceiling and asking "Do you know why it's moving?" "You just rest up now, sir," says Norton to the general. "Don't stress yourself. We need you as close to one hundred percent as possible for the shindig Savant may or may not have scheduled for us." He nods to Marcus, saying, "Yeah, he's a bit of a control freak. Is Bonzo still around? He might have some tips." Jeff fixes Marcus with another glare, "Bonzo the Clown and Jolly Green Giant will treat me with more professionalism I'm sure." He can't help but smile at Norton, "Damned straight." "Well," replies Marcus in a low voice. "My prediction is Bonzo is somewhere out searching for the rainbow." Then, he pauses, and turns around. "General, last I checked, your release papers still list me as your physician. You can be nice, apologize to me, and we can finish the operation amicably that ends without you in crutches for a week, or I will not sign you as released, and whatever happens to you post-surgery becomes anything but my fault. Your choice." "Apology my ass," says Jeff snapping. "Deep breaths," Norton suggests to Marcus. "Getting all antsy in the pantsy over our slightly peevish customer won't fix nothing. Just take it easy, dope him up, and do your business." Ivan smirks a little, babbling still "Why is the ceiling moving?" he asks Norton this time, tilting his head to the side as he indicates the ceiling. "Unfortuantely, I can't dope him without his consent, or I have good reason to believe he's about to die," he replies. "And I turned him over to another physician so I would not be committing a crime by leaving him there on a table. So, Captain, I apologize, but I'm simply a stupid grunt-medic, as that's what Doctor Bonzo prefers." Martin comes rushing back in. This time with a woman in tow. "Nice to see you up Ivan. Try standard comrade." He smiles. He then hands the package that was under his arm to the Medic. "Here is the meds you asked the other day Marcus." He then remembers the woman. "Oh Doc, this a new Doc." He says pointing to Marcus and Freyssinet. "Why is that freak still talking?" Norton asks no one in particular. He tells Marcus, "Like hell, this is the militia. He ain't got any rights. He signed up his body and soul for the greater good. You do what you got to do for the greater good, full speed ahead, damn the mines, and so on." Freyssinet follows Martin in, huge belly first of course. "What happened? Can I get a summary of the situation, and who treated him so far?" She hasn't seen Jeff yet. Marcus seems reinvigorated by Norton's dry, albeit true humor. "Oh, well, in that case, who's in charge?" he pauses, looks around, pulls out two latex gloves. "Oh, wait! I am. Medic, 15ccs of norcodine, shut up the general, if you will." His eyes move to Frey, and then back to the situation. "Frey, get this asshole away from me," he grumbles as the Medic approaches him. "You..." The norcodine goes in, "d...." And he's out. Ivan frowns slightly "What do you mean try 'Standard?' "he asks Martin, tilting his head to the side as he continues to babble. He looks to Frey as she enters "Do you know how the ceiling is moving?" Drugged? Couldn't be. "The usual," Norton says to Freyssinet. "Bad stuff." After a drag on his cigarette, he adds, "I heard the word dermectomy tossed around in the hall. Or was it proctal? I forget. Maybe spleenedtimoty?" Martin glances at down at the Ungistri. "Come on comrade. Standard." He then repeats the words slowly to the drugged engineer. "Doctor San, sign a mental health hold for the general until I give him the release," continues Marcus. "I'm going to finish the dermectomy - Captain, if you could stay right where you are at the entrance with that, I about murdered Martin for being too close to the oxygen tnaks. Doctor..Frey, is it?" He moves back over to the unconscious General's side. Freyssinet frowns to Norton, "Sir, first throw away that cancerstick, and second, try again. How did he get irradiated, what was already done, what are the stats." She nods, "Doctor Freyssinet, you can call me Frey." she says to Marcus. With an idle look to the oxygen tanks, Norton says, "Willco." He tells Freyssinet, "From a radiation leak. How do you think they got radiated, lady? Playing catch with reactor fuel? As to their stats, you're the doctor. You tell me. Not that I care, mind you, so you better tell that guy talking like he knows what is going on and cares." He indicates Marcus with his cigarette before sticking the cancer stick back in his mouth. "Ma'am, this is my operating room, and until you are on my insurance, I will decide how it is run," replies Marcus, setting up his tools once again now that the drama's over and Marcus has collected himself. "He has second degree burns across 36% of his right side, I've started a regimen of debridlement and antibiotics and am in the middle of a dermectomy on the infarcted tissue, if you don't mind, and his vital signs are stable and my business, but his EKG is up on the screen if you would really like to see." Ivan frowns, furrowing his brows "What do you mean, 'Standard'?" he questions again, he looks at Frey again, smirking "Do you know why the ceiling is moving? I want to know so I can figure out how to do that," he babbles. Freyssinet nods. "Reactor fuel, OK. But drop that cigarette, second call." she snaps to Norton. To Marcus, "Makes sense. Can I assist in any way? I /am/ a surgeon." she answers, much more calmly. "I'm from his family, so whatever I can do for him..." "S T A N D A R D! Come on. You didn't see me going off in Latin to everyone when they had me doped up." Martin says to Ivan. "Must I bribe you with vodka and what was the last thing Nort? Hairy Women?" Norton just smiles and nods to Frey as he continues to smoke. He looks to Martin, "Hey, buddy, unless you like chatting with the crazy man, feel free to point your stun gun at him and see if he snaps to." "Absolutely, if you'll agree that you won't sue my ass should you get cut up or that infant you're carrying around is somehow compromised, and share liability on the surgery should he, well, die," replies Marcus sarcastically. "Medic, I want a second line attached with ampicillin. Scrubs are in that drawer over there, as well as surgical caps and masks." Ivan's eyes light up at the mention of vodka "You have vodka?" he asks, before looking to the ceiling "Wait...have I been drinking like a tourist again? Is that why the ceiling is moving?" he asks with a frown. Freyssinet raises a brow, going toward the scrubs and starting to prep herself for surgery. "No suing - but get that smoker out of the room. I think it's the first time I see somebody smoking in a medbay, even less in a surgery room." "You are in a marine space station. There is a fume hood above where I have marines stand," replies Marcus calmly. Picking up his scalpel, he continues to make the cuts to remove the dead tissue. "I'm suspecting that he might have a pneumothorax - if I could have you repair the damage to the pleura, and make sure he isn't bleeding in there, that would be wonderful of you." Martin raises a brow. And calls something in Latin to Marcus. He then turns to Ivan. "Alright then....." He trails off. Freyssinet sighs. "We shall discuss hygiena in the medbay afterwards, doctor. When I was in the vanguards, fume hood or not, a smoker would have been dragged out in seconds." she pulls a second scanner to check the pneumothorax, "Got it. Will open a way, to retablish and repair." "The man got himself a point," says Norton as he points up to the venting system. "It's designed to vent out gas in case we got ourselves, you know, a bio attack. It can cope with my smoking if my lungs can. You can discuss what you want, just realize that your Vanguards are a bunch of two bit mercs these days while we still have two homes to call our own." Ivan frowns a little, still staring at the ceiling" Maybe vodka should be used for engineering..." he trails. Freyssinet glares at Norton, the mask not shielding him from her contempt. "Sanctuary vanguard, not those... idiots. never again mistake me for one of them." she says very clearly, yet barely above a whisper. She proceeds to re-establish the inner pressure in Jeff's lungs, carefully monitoring his vitals and following. "Hang on, Jeff, it is not yet your day." "Uh huh," says Norton who doesn't seem to be too put off by the whole glare and contempt bit. "Same monkeys, different tuxes." Martin looks down one last time at the Ungistri then he walks off. The Martian grabs an empty bed pan and whips out a cigarette. He then stands next to Norton and ashes into it. He then sets it down at his feet. "There, cleaner." He states. "He'll be fine," replies Marcus, cutting away another section of flesh. "I'm going to have to graft some parts that are scaring me a little bit. We'll find a suitable candidate for that later. Medic, suction. And yes, I was a trauma surgeon with Vanguard - field surgeon, I know their sterility, and a fume hood is okay. Does he have a hemopneumothorax? Or is it looking all okay? I want you in there with the pen cams we have if you need to." Freyssinet doesn't even grace Norton with an answer. To Marcus, from her careful work, "It is OK, no need on my side to invade more. What antibios did you send him?" Looking down at the make shift ash tray, Norton says, "Gee, I don't know what to say about such a thoughtful and practical gift." "Alright. Lung sounds equal and bilateral?" he asks, finishing cutting away the tissue. "If so, start finding some candidate skin for some grafting, and prepare it so I can attach it all pretty-like. I have him on an aggressive regimen of ampicillin, and mafenide. And then during his debridlement he will be receiving topical trimethoprhim." "Your smiling face is thanks enough." Martin says as he takes a drag from his cigarette. "You need to get out more," Norton tells Martin. "How'd the fishing for sympathy trip go?" Freyssinet nods, "Oxygenation at 97 and coming up, all good." she answers. "Good tritherapy there. And I supposed he has been given global antirad drugs IV too?" Martin grins broadly. "Oh that isn't a problem anymore." He chuckles. He then takes another drag. "I got the showers and the messhall lights up and working with a couple portable generators." "You should have just hooked us up with a deal to shower in the co-ed dorms," says Norton as he knocks some ash into the bed pan. "The iodine bag right above your head. It's all my medbay really had. It'll work, but it'll take a lot longer," replies Marcus, inserting a clamp into the open muscle tissue and pinching off an arteriole. It pulsates softly with each beat of Jeff's heart. Medic, increase his ventilator to fifteen liters per minute, with eighteen breaths per minute. Doctor, ready for the skin graft specimens when you are." "So we can all gawk at the three Militia women?" Martin says. "We really need to change our recruitment posters." The Martian sighs. "I'm talking about at the college campus," says Norton. "You scared off the bad engineer." He looks to Ivan, "Not that our's are that great." Freyssinet stretches a bit, sweating under the surgery gown and bonnet. "Ready, doc." "Good. If you can get those into place, I'll start attaching the blood supply to the grafts," replies Marcus, putting on his magnifying goggles. The medic, as if having done this before, already has the tools required preprared. "Once we do that, I'm going to have you test capillary refill, and if it's acceptable, let's stitch it, dress it, and send it to prom." Freyssinet nods, having the nurse put magnyfying googles on her too, and she positions the grafts meticulously in place for Marcus to revascularize them. "In place, ready for you." she chimes in. "She was cute but I keep running into her all around New Luna. Creepy really but then she took off somewhere. Worked out in the end." Martin says ashing into the bed pan. "Ran into a very friendly Timmy girl, that made up for everything." He then takes another drag of his cancer stick. "I'll see what I can do about those generators being reassigned if you are serious about chasing around school girls." "Must be your animal magnetism," says Norton as he lights a new cigarette, tossing the butt of the first into the bed pan. "They're all friendly. Just be sure to get tested. I told you about those species jumping virus. Don't make me waste the doc's time giving a brief on skankily transmitted diseases." The next part is, of course, nothing short of meticulous. Grafting venules and arterioles just takes good time, especially as they become leaky once Marcus releases the clamp just a ways. However, once he finishes, he releases the clamp, letting them ooze and then clot. A pink color slowly returns to the grafted skin, that had been slowly turning blue. "If you would suture that, doctor, I thank you for your assistance. Except for the health hold I have preventing General Ryan from returning to duty, I will turn him over to you to wake up and inform he will not be returning to duty until he gets past me." He winks at her, and unties that blue, rubber-ducky swimming surgical cap, and pulls off his goggles. "Ventilator off, switch to a rebreather mask, medic, thank you for your assistance." Freyssinet nods, "Allright", and attacks the suture, a clean and tidy job. Once that done, she gets herself off the surgery gown and drops in the nearest chair, "Ouch... my back isn't up to such things anymore." To another doctor, it is clear she is not only quite far along - 8th month, but also carrying twins. Martin shrugs and takes another drag of his cigarette. "I'll get one once things clear up around here." The Martian states. "From the looks of it, you'll have two nightmares to be dealing with, on top of your back," replies Marcus, washing his hands in the sink. "My daughter is attending the Naval Academy Prep School on Hesperia - been there, done that." "The lecture or the test?" asks Norton. "The test," Martin says "And to be truthful I don't care if I caught a damn thing. It was worth it." Freyssinet chuckles, "My daughter's just entering second grade... but yep, soon two more." she frowns, pointing at Martin and Norton - and the cigarettes. "Now that we are out of the fire, really, i have to insist. This isn't an atmosphere for sick people." Marcus looks at them, and then looks at Frey. "I've been working with marines for years. Can't get them to not do it. There is positive pressure keeping fumes away from the patients, as well as the vent hood. We are in our own separate environemnt, ma'am." Freyssinet frowns, "We are still in medbay. In Sanctuary, they'd have been hauled away - or rather kicked away, in two seconds. As I said, I worked with marines too." "Insist all you want, lady," says Norton as he continues to smoke. He rolls his eyes at Martin, "You're dumb enough to, according to these medical monkeys, be a marine. Too bad you don't have the immune system for it. How old are you, anyway? Fifteen? Since when has a rotting sensation been worth it?" He looks to Frey, "You want to check out this man's junk?" "I understand - and I assure you, I act with nothing but the best interests of my patients in mind, as I know you're trying to do. I've set it up as a very contained environment in here. It looked more like a family doctor's office when I first got here," replies Marcus, moving over to Jeff's IVs to inject an antibiotic into the saline bag. "Medic, I want you to wake him. He'll be very confused, so you may want to handle him, doctor. I'm going to fill out his health hold." Martin chuckles. "Me a marine? now thats a joke." Martin says. He then looks over at Norton. "Trust me this was worth any thing falling off." Martin states with a grin. Freyssinet ignores royally Norton, and just shrugs for Marcus. "I'll see to Jeff as he emerges." she answers, clearly not too pleased. "I guess she doesn't really care," Norton tells Martin. "It falls off, you're going to have a long dry spell till you get to hell." "Thank Minvera Medica for the nurses aye?" Martin says. "I'm sure I can get one of them to take a peek." "Give you a second dose, maybe," says Norton. "You thinking about shaving that beard off someday, grizzly?" Ryan mumbles as he comes awake, the first words he says are, "Have to..." He mumbles some more, "Have to get out." Freyssinet gently puts a fresh towel on Jeff's forehead, "You are out, Jeff. Out of the shaft, and secure in medbay. Relax." she answers softly. Martin glances over at the General then he turns back to Norton. "Never, I'd feel naked with out it." He then looks back over at the General. "Fearless Leader is back in the land of the living." "Feckless," notes Norton. He shrugs, "Get some shrapnel in the jaw, that beard is going to complicate things. Ripe for infections and jungle rot when we go to ground, too." Ivan has still continued to babble in Mierz, indicating the ceiling repeatedly "Why is is moving? I need to figure out how it's moving so that I can do it too," seems to be the topic of choice. Jeff's eyes snap open and he pulls himself up off the bed, "Have to get out..." He repeats. There's a glazed look in his eyes, as though seeing something far off and long ago. "Cross that bridge when I get to it. And besides the rot will take my mind off the other rotting going around." Martin says dropping his cigarette in the bedpan. "Shall we say hello to the boss?" Canting his head to the side, Norton squints briefly, "No, let the doctor's bedside manner snap him out of his crazy spell. Let's go suffocate Alphabet with a pillow." Freyssinet firmly directs Jeff back to lying correctly on his bed. "Lie down, you are safe in medbay, Jeff." Jeff Ryan pulls himself free of Frey, off the bed and heads for the door, "Gotta get out." Martin nudges Nort. "I think we better help her out." The Martian points to the freaking General. Ivan continues to babble, indicating the ceiling "Or is it just that I drank like a tourist again? If vodka can do that, might be good to use," he smirks at Jeff "Make sure to put vodka on the engineering budget, we could use it," Freyssinet struggles to keep Jeff in the bed, hopefully he is still too knocked down to resist her. "I need a hand." she calls. "Jeff, calm down or I am going to have to give you some calmant." "Dose him," says Norton with a put upon sigh as he heads towards the general and doctor. Tossing the cigarette into the bed pan before he moves, he adds, "Don't rationalize with the insane." The surgeon turns around, watching the fiasco that was going on. "My medics know how to restain the unruly folk. Strap him down if we have to until he calms down," says Marcus, not exactly phased. He continues writing on his clipboard. Ivan smirks a bit at Jeff "I think we both had too much vodka, that is why the ceiling is moving," he explains. Freyssinet glares to Norton, "DOsing after a surgery is not necessarily the smartest thing." to jeff. "What do you need, Jeff, what do you want?" Martin moves to block Jeff's path to the door. "Nort grab him." He says as he sticks his hand infront of the General. "Whatever," says Norton as he unlimbers his stun gun. "Neither is letting him run around like a chicken with his head cut up, struggling with him, or what I'm going to do which is plug him and the drunken Ungstiri with this stun gun until they shut their yaps and quit making me suffer through their delirium." He nods to Martin with his eyes on Ryan, "Yeah, you hold him while I point and shoot." Then, to Ryan, "You're in the medbay on your own station. Sit tight, stay on your bed, and your leg will mend. About your head, well, it was already a lost cause." Freyssinet growls to Norton, "You use that stungin on any of those two, trust me, I will make sure Jeff kicks your ass to the other side of the galaxy when he recovers." "Captain," coos Marcus. He's very calm, just writing on his clipboard, not looking up. "We will not be using a stun gun inside my operating room. Not only does it take the fun out of restraints, my patient was just operated on, and I don't exactly deem it very healthy to him. He's not going far - there is a muscle relaxant that just needs to work its way around his system, and he's human. He's lost some blood. He'll drop to the floor here shortly." Martin shrugs and then plants his hand on the Jeff's chest and begins to push slowly. "Be a good little General and lay down." He says. "Got to get out," says Jeff. Whatever nightmare he's in, it's probably not a good one, the fist comes flying for Martin's solar plexus. Ivan frowns a bit "Has everyone had too much vodka?" he asks, "Must be why the ceiling is moving," he affirms after a moment. "Uh huh," says a _very_ concerned sounding Norton to Frey. With his eyes still on Ryan, he nods to Marcus, "You say that now, doc, but we'll see who shoots who. If he doesn't drop, I'll drop him. How about them apples? I'll give him a five count. 5...screw that." After the crazy general man tries punching Martin, the less than friendly marine tries to shoot. Freyssinet sighs, and quickly takes another dose of barbiturate that she swiftly tries to inject into her greatgrandson. she hasn't registered Norton's action, yet. Marcus acts quite faithfully. He attempts to position himself between the firing Norton and Jeff Ryan - more importantly, his clipboard inbetween the stun gun and himself. Whether or not he gets stunned, Marcus is still there, in the way. Ivan seems quite unphased by all that's going on, still babbling away "I think we've all been drinking like tourists," he states. A rather cranky looking recently fixed General has woken up, trying to escape, he's punched Martin in the solar plexus and the marine is probably going down. Mean marine Norton has drawn his pistol and trying to shoot the errant commander, but Marcus has gotten between them. Ryan turning from Martin in the direction of the firing tries to close the distance between himself and the obvious enemy, Captain Norton. "Crap on a cracker," says Norton as the clip board present in his line of fire by Marcus comes down. Stepping around to the left, he continues. "We're not dealing with a nice, orderly, rational being. We're dealing with a souped up, half crazy man who thinks he's the second coming rolled up with some sort of vigilante justice. Quit messing around with my solutions, or I'm going to let him kick your ass next and just wait till he wears himself out. He's barely functioning when he's in control of himself. Now that he's on some crazed mission in his dream state, it's just going to be silly." He tries firing now though! Martin sags slowly to the ground. "Bastard!" He chokes out, then tries to reach for his own stun gun. And Frey had a seryngue full of barbiturates at the ready, but the very pregnant doc tries to keep out of range of knocks and stunguns, "Put away those guns, for the babies's sakes!" she cries out. Ivan continues to babble amidst the chaos around him. He looks to Martin "Do you see the ceilign moving now too? I think we've all had too much vodka," he explains. "Oh, fuck it," Marcus mutters, getting out of the line of fire, and hitting the medbay's alarm. "This is a combat situation, sir, you outrank me." And Marcus goes to protect his patients in the beds. Midpounce the stun ray hits Jeff on the chest, between the muscle relaxants and the gun, Jeff collapses. The momentum carries him into the marine though. Martin stumbles to his feet and slowly heads towards the two men. He is cursing in Latin as he nears them. Ivan looks over at Marcus "Have you had too much vodka, too?" he asks, tilting his head to the side. "Restrain him to the bed. I have cuffs that'll keep him down. Legs, torso, and hips, too. Basically I only want him moving his head," says Marcus, turning to Ivan. He opens a drawer near the patient's bed, removing and examining a syringe, and inserting it into the saline bag. He depresses it, and injects the epinephrine in, turning back to the fiasco at hand. Norton sort of manages to brace himself somewhat and catches the general awkwardly as he stumbles back a foot before staggering over to the hospital bed. He kind of piles Ryan on there. All this and he doesn't let go of his weapon. Marine training must be good for something. Dusting himself off, he puts the stun gun away and says, "You can re-arrange the furniture yourself, doc. Don't get in my way again." He looks to Martin, "How you feeling, hero? Friendly fire is a joke, eh?" "A barrel of laughs." Martin says. "I got work to do." He says as he heads towards the door. He is shaking his head and cursing in Latin all the way out. Ivan begins to go under as the drug takes effect "It's spinning more..." he comments. His eyes slide closed and he asks "Who turned out the lights?" before fully going under.
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