Scratch Scratch

[MC_Escher 0]

Note: This takes place right between last sim and the one before that. No cure was in sight, and people were desperate.

 

 

Scratch Scratch

A Joint Log by Mele and Escher

 

 

Dr. Mele was mad. Very mad. He gripped Lieutenant, Junior Grade Escher’s arm possibly a little tighter than necessary as he steered Escher toward his office.

 

“Inside. Now,” hissed Mele. Escher, looking positively bewildered, entered the chief medical officer’s personal work space. The door whooshed shut behind Mele as he strode in and around his desk.

 

“Sit,” he practically barked at the lieutenant. Escher hurriedly sat down in the lone chair across from Mele.

 

“What,” Mele started, barely controlling his fury, “were you thinking? Standing up in the middle of the room and yelling about how everyone should be happier? I could make a permanent black mark in your record. You wouldn’t rise above JG!”

 

By this point Escher was shaking. “Sir!” he managed to get out. “I was only trying to be motivational. I thought everyone was feeling a little down and that they…needed a boost.”

 

“A boost?” retorted Mele. “A boost? What you did in there in no way helped them. You asked them why they weren’t happy! Do you want to know why they aren’t happy? Because they’re scared. They don’t know what’s happening to them and frankly neither do I. We are operating in the dark here and little ‘motivational’ speeches like that aren’t benefiting anyone!”

 

Escher’s lip quivered. “I know! And I’m sorry. It’s just…with the possibility of death hanging over everyone…I mean, I saw someone’s skin start to slough off in there! And I just didn’t know what to do, so I…spoke out of turn.”

 

Mele sighed and his anger broke. He wearily collapsed into his chair. “I understand. We all have that feeling. This disease refuses to cooperate!”

 

Mele’s com badge beeped. He angrily pressed it into his chest. “Mele here. Go ahead.”

 

“Sir, Starbase 36 just contacted us. Apparently, the members of the Exeter crew that first came down with the disease…have just died.”

 

A blank look passed over Mele’s face. He sat there, motionless, as Escher gasped and then quickly looked at the floor.

 

“Yes, thank you for telling me. Mele out,” replied the doctor, and cut the connection. He looked over at Escher. “I have to go to the lab. If there is one last chance that we can save anyone…I have to find it. I won’t make a note in your permanent file, just don’t let it happen again.” He strode over to the door and exited the office.

 

Escher was left to contemplate mortality and humanity and the wall across from Mele’s desk. And he continued to scratch. All over, he just scratch, scratch, scratched.