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Posted on Tue Nov 24th, 2020 @ 2:23pm by 1st Lieutenant Douglas Collier

Mission: Not Where I Belong
Location: Starbase/Chuck Norris
Timeline: Past/Current

-I have bad memory, so if the penicillin has been put into the replicator systems, shoot me an email or something and let me know so I can fix this.-

Collier has been dealing with his dwindling Penicillin stash by locking his quarter doors for a few days at a time while he stretches what little is left. Both being on what Starfleet may refer to as "shore leave", and the amount of Penicillin. He of course goes berserk in the room during this time, passerbys have heard the commotion. They've learned to leave him alone, after either being growled at like some wild beast, or being simply ordered/barked at to leave him be.He's becoming increasingly aware that, even with that lads up to date medicinal knowledge, the chemical mixture that was forced into his system seems to be avoiding or destroying the penicillin as it enters his system, which gives him the time to seem normal. Whatever that crazy old doctor did... I know exactly what he did. But even I shudder the thought. To... use.. no. To "perfect" something that the DNA refused, by being ripped apart. What did he do differently that is allowing me to survive longer? It's only a matter of time before it completely rejects my system and begins its destructive process....


After the completed repairs and "debriefing", if you could even call it that, were finished, he reported to his workstation awaiting further orders.

He won't inform them of whats to come.
I assume when it comes to the end of a lifespan, we outright die, like every other species in the universe. But, why do I get the feeling that it won't be the case? Only time will tell. As it stands, I may have a month, 1.5 months if I'm lucky, of this Penicillin. Then, the fun begins. He cracks a smile. "And I hope they can defend themselves amptly."


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