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Merger
The giant Orbital Hospital glittered like a crazily decorated Christmas tree, slowly orbiting Wardell against the backdrop of the nearby star cluster. Inside the largest operating theatre the Guardians gathered anxiously, clustered around their friend Weyrleader, who was undergoing the usual surgical and anaesthetic preparation. The surgeon methodically scrubbed up and backed in through the theatre doors, heading over to a scrub nurse, then busying himself gloving and gowning. As he finished, he turned to face the assembled group.
"The Man in Black!" they cried.
"Yes. I will be conducting the merger surgery. I want to make it clear to you that we have never had to do this before in the history of the Metaverse. If all goes well, I should be accepting the Altarian Prize for Life Giving Surgery before afternoon tea. If not, I guess it will be the Drath Medal for Fastest Blunt Dissection. Now, the first problem is that we dont have enough noise in here. Greldon, I want you to organise four more machines that go beep, two that go buzzpt, and one of those nifty ones that makes a swoosh sound and does cappucinos. STAT!"
Greldon crashed through the theatre doors and the sound of his hurried footsteps echoed down the corridor. The Man in Black signalled to the orderly...and through the doors a guerney carrying the rotting, moist, barely alive carcass of PassingBye was wheeled in and placed beside Weyrleader.
"Engage Advanced Environment Control! Establish Brain Wave and Genetic Mapping!" The Man in Black strode purposefully around the operating tables, barking instructions at the theatre team. Suddenly, they all froze - and heard a soft slurping sound from near PassingBye's shoulder. Peering around, they saw a small figure in a red and white jumper nuzzling up against the body.
"DAMOOSE! NO SNACKS NOW! Get that crazy Canuck out of here! What did you think you were doing?"
"Um...tastes like chicken..." mumbled the Canadian, wiping his chin as the orderly took him outside.
"Very well - are we ready?"
"For honor...and...and..." and with that, the anaesthetic took Weyrleader to a safer place.
The surgery stretched on, despite regular cappucinos. The Man in Black suddently noticed some vibrations from the far end of the table. "Chipperoo - what are you doing?"
"Folding...Flap...A...into...Slot...B...." he grunted back. At that moment, a transporter beam twinkled in the corner of the operating theatre, and Captain J.T. Quirk materialised and strolled over to the table. "Quirk - we've no need of your assistance here. I thought your EMH program was down, anyway?"
"Just gving moral supprt guys, lol..." But no one noticed the two fine metallic tubes sprout from the Starfleet officer's wrist and pierce Weyrleader's gluteus maximus...and no one heard him whisper..."Resistance is futile"...to the sleeping Guardian. "Er...call me when it's all done, OK?"
"U IZ CALLIN ME 2!" clanked a metalic voice from the theatre door. Evil Roy strode to the head of the operating table.
"Christ - visiting hours are after 6pm!" yelled the Man in Black.
"I IZ UZIN DA 4D ENTRANCE." In the confusion, no one saw Roy stick his large metallic finger down Weyrleader's ear...and deposit the small microchip next to the ear drum...which would activate on command to pierce the drum and migrate deep inside the central nervous system.
Exalted Druid leaned over his friend's body. "Er...MiB...I think something is happening here...between Weyr's legs...it's a...I think...it's a...a Nano Rift!"
The Man in Black put his cappucino down and looked carefully at the area. "No...I think it's actually...a Controlled Wormhole...OK, lets get a little Cold Fusion down there...good...a little more...NO WAIT! Damnit, Druid...that's too much...well, we'll just have to see how that swelling settles down post-operatively..."
"Alright everyone...let's lighten the anaesthetic...Weyr - can you hear me?"
Weyrleader's eyelids fluttered..."For...foreplay...and..."
The Man in Black glanced quickly at the monitors. "Who hung that Aphrodisiac IV? Swap in some normal saline...that's it...OK, let's try again..."
"For...rhubarb...and...mustard..." Weyr murmured weakly.
"Arrgh...now he's a bloody vegetarian."
"And what's wrong with that?" snapped the Druid.
"OK, OK - at least we're through the critical part of the merger. Dump the remainder of PassingBye's hulk down the waste disposal. I want 10 mls Cure for Depression administered six-hourly and a 50 ml bolus of Benevolence twice daily to minimise the risk of a malpractice suit. Alright everyone - all we can do now...is wait....."
        
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Glad ya liked it! Have a good weekend 
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You'll never eat beef again. 
]
