The Continuing Adventures of Medi-Bat

Communist Starlight

Crushing inequality
@97blackbird
This is amazing.
This is absolutely amazing! A dose of medi and story-telling we all needed.
And you better bet your butt that entire vodka isle is only stocked because I havn't been there in a while.
BigBuggyBastage
My Little Pony - 1992 Edition
Wallet After Summer Sale -
Not a Llama - Happy April Fools Day!

Go fsck yourself
@97blackbird
Oh man, this was just what I needed. ♥ And yay, I got a recharge! :D

@97blackbird
LoL Ah yes, every aisle at the corner store in Chelyabinsk. Good work, comrade. XD

@Communist Starlight
Oh brother, you would NOT BELIEVE the stories I've heard over the past few months, about how much people near my current location have spent on alcohol, or how much they bought at once, since "the virus time" began. At some points, I've wondered whether I should've built a distillery earlier this year. Could've paid off my student loans! XD
Joseph Raszagal
Wallet After Summer Sale -

Emily Brickenbrackle III
@97blackbird
For what it's worth, I really enjoyed your little story. It was really nice seeing all of us there =3 .

I would like to remind you, however, that the first things I ever wrote about Medi all involved her as the crew doctor on my spaceship xD . Still, the way you worded her desire to return home was very sweet, touching on the inherent chaos but beautiful promise of general life on Earth.

A very cute read, my friend.

@Communist Starlight
Don't worry, comrade, we're stocking the pantry with your potato squeezins right now.

@BigBuggyBastage
Hey, man, when the world goes to Hell in a handbasket you can pretty much guarantee that booze is the first thing that most people want xD .
97blackbird

Medi awoke slowly and smacked her lips to try to work some moisture back into her bone-dry mouth. She didn't have much of a headache, but her mind was in a fog from the 'Back-on-Earth-bender' that Starlight had excitedly thrown after his trip back from the store. 'Real' vodka had gone on sale, and so he raised his red flag and the clear liquid flowed. Fruit infusions, iced tumblers, blended drinks, vodka sauce and vodka marinated tri-tip. Everything had been touched by the liquor of Mother Russia. The purple pony pulled all the stops.
She herself tried imbibing in moderation, but the vodka infused mango chunks were a slow build, and then testing the BAC levels of the participants pushed her over the edge. And so, drymouthed and trying to stave off a headache, she inched down, one step at a time, from her perch to the feather-soft towel below by feel. It was bright outside of her 'bed' the covered, doorless birdcage where she slept, and she didn't want to try seeing anything visually for fear bringing on the dreaded throbbing headache of over-indulgence.
"EEEEE!" She called, acoustically sensing the room and then leaping from the opening of her bed, she flew to the door of the room — which opened of its own accord with an unfamiliar hiss. Medi puzzled over the noise, but didn't pause, she really needed some water for her case of cottonmouth and so after a squeak confirmed that the door was open, she flew through.

"Medical officer Medi, on deck!"

The sudden, loud, announcement from right beside her threw her into an instinctive avoidance maneuver. A staccato of clicks and squeaks confirmed that there was nothing after her, but also that the room she was in was completely unfamiliar. In fact, it was beyond unfamiliar; it was utterly foreign in shape, furniture, and design. The shot of adrenaline due to that initial shock and her bewilderment regarding her location caused her to do the most awful, the most terrible, the most hideous action she could imagine.

She opened her eyes.

"AHHH! Medi squealed as daggers of light pierced her tiny skull. She covered her eyes with her hooves, but it was too late; the throb-throb, throb-throb, of an alcohol-precipitated, dehydration-induced, photo-sensitive, migraine pounded mercilessly against the back of her eyes and pressed spikes into her temples. Continuing to fly in this state was unwise, so she fluttered down to land on a… table, of some type, and curled into a tiny, grey fuzzball and moaned pathetic, high-pitched moans of torment.

"They got you too, eh?" A familiar voice asked.

Medi sat up and squinted in the direction of the voice. Then opened them wide in shock. It was impossible!

-more to come.
97blackbird

It was impossible.

She stared in spite of the pain; there was so much to take in, for she was not in any ordinary ‘room’, but by all appearances, she had flown onto the bridge of a starship! Furthermore, she was not on any table, but a sloped surface loaded with control panels and touch-screen displays. Standing somewhat woozily, she peered over the raised back of the control panel to where she had heard the familiar voice. A large pegasus pony sat across the room looking as dumbfounded as she was. By the stylized black bird on his rump, she guessed that it was the one whose voice she had recognized.
“Blackbird? Is that you?”

The copper-red pegasus nodded. He didn’t look up at her, his attention was on the solid red shirt he was wearing. “Is this shirt as bright red as I think it is, Medi?”

Medi nodded, “Yes, it is.”

“Are we on a spaceship?”

Medi looked around. The pony standing by the door nodded. “You’re on the bridge of the E.S.F. Staff Sergeant Reckless. A modern space exploration vessel.” She announced professionally, and a bit too loudly.

Blackbird looked up, his eyes fixed at a point somewhere far away. “I don’t think this bodes well for me…”

Medi swallowed, she had seen a few episodes of a spacefaring series. The crew members wearing red shirts were supposed to be trained fighters, but they died quickly, and with alarming regularity.

“Science Officer BigBuggyBastage, approaching.” a computerized voice announced. The door hissed open; a bright gold metal pony entered.

“Science Officer BigBuggyBastage on Deck!”

Medi and Blackbird both covered their ears and moaned.

“Hey, Medi, Blackbird. Welcome aboard.” He walked over to Medi and set a small paper cup on the control console. “Water?”

“Thanks.” Medi made her way over to the cup and drank a few swallows. “What’s going on, Bigbug?”
“What do you mean?”

“Why are we on a space drama?” Said Blackbird, still staring, unfocused.

“Sir! You are all on the bridge of the E.S.F. Staff Sergeant Reckless. A modern space exploration vessel!”

Medi and Blackbird again winced at the overloud announcement. “And just who are you?” Medi asked, rubbing her temples.

“Ensign Exposition, Ma’am!” she replied proudly, “and I’m honored to be assigned to this vessel as your starpilot and expositor-in-chief for all plot clarifications whether necessary or superfluous!”

“What?” Medi asked, “Oh no, wait-

“Ensign Exposition, Ma’am!” Exposition said again, louder, “I’m assigned to this vessel as your starpilot and expositor-in-chief!”

“Yeah, yeah, we got that!” Blackbird yelled back, now broken out of his earlier stupor. “Now turn down the volume, Ensign, we’re all in the same room!”

“I beg your pardon, Sir,” Exposition said, at a much quieter level, “but this is not a room, this compartment is the bridge of the E.S.F. Staff Sergeant Reckless-

“Yes, I heard!” Blackbird roared, and then winced at his own voice.

“I believe their confusion lies at the change in directive.” Bigbug said.

“The change of what?” Medi and Blackbird said.

“The Prime directive!” Exposition announced, “states that: All adventures involving Medical Officer Medi be upon space worthy vessels and suitably ridiculous in nature as to induce broad smiles of joy, involuntary guffaws of amuzement, and chuckles of mirth.”

Medi and Blackbird exchanged blank looks of perplexity.

“You heard the prime directive, Blackbird.” Bigbug said. “The Captain told you directly."

Blackbird swallowed. “The Captain?"

more to come…
Communist Starlight

Crushing inequality
@97blackbird
Considering just seeing the story gave me a smile, and it got broader the more I read it, I'd say mission successful!

I swear if Joe walks onto the bridge in full pirate captain getup I'm going to scream
97blackbird

“Da!” A new voice said. A blue-shirt wearing lavender-colored unicorn eventually clambered to his feet out from underneath a console across the room. “The Captain.” He belched and then a large bottle of vodka levitated to his lips and he drank a few swallows. It was apparent that he had dealt with his hangover in a vastly different manner. “Why are you not saluting?”

Blackbird rubbed his eyes and stared. “Communist Starlight?”

Medi shook her head and blinked. “The Captain?”

“You still stink of alcohol, Sir,” Exposition saluted crisply and wrinkled her nose.

“As you were, Ensign,” Starlight drawled like a drunk Cossack, “we all stink of alcohol.”

“I don’t” Bigbug retorted indignantly.

“That because you robot. But your metal polish is strong,” Starlight jabbed his bottle in Bigbug’s direction. “You shine like top of Saint Alexander Cathedral, but you stink like inside of Lenin’s sarcophagus.”

“Correct, Sir.” Exposition agreed, “Reckless, ventilate the bridge.” The hum of air whooshing through screens filled the bridge.

“So,” Starlight took a few steps closer, but didn’t stray from the island of control panels in the center of the room. Indeed, it looked as though he might topple over if he didn’t have their support. “Why are you not saluting?”

Medi stood up straight and presented a proper bat-winged salute. However, Blackbird tugged at his red shirt to see the rank, and then squinted up to Starlight’s collar.

“Even you Marines must know that your rank drop like starving Ukrainian if you fail to salute Captain of vessel.” Starlight drawled menacingly.

Blackbird sighed, but stood and snapped to attention with a textbook salute. “Good day, Sir!”

“Very good, Blackbird.” Starlight grinned, “perhaps you belong as useful crew on ship Staff-Sergeant Reckless” He glanced over at Exposition, who looked about ready to speak and quickly added, “that is both modern and exploration for E.S.F.” Hearing his addendum, Exposition relaxed with a satisfied smile.

“I believe we were talking about the captain’s change to the ‘Prime Directive’?” Bigbug interjected.

“Yes.” Starlight agreed, “you remember, Blackbird? When Captain tell you keep all stories in space and make with the jokes?”

Blackbird’s brow knotted in thought. “I remember Joe suggesting that. Not you.”

Starlight smiled. “Da, that is correct! Marine not so dumb after all!”

“But you said that you changed it!” Blackbird said angrily.

“Nyet! I never say I change ‘Prime Directive’.” Starlight laughed. “Everyone agree that Captain change Prime Directive.”

“What? Wait, you’re not the Captain?” Blackbird looked around the room. Nopony else looked surprised.

Medi face-hoofed. “Oh, plastic fruit-baskets!”

“But you told us to salute!” Blackbird floundered in his sea of confusion, “and you all saluted!”

“I didn’t salute.” Bigbug retorted.

Blackbird glared at Exposition.

“Uhh, Sir, he outranks me.” She shrugged. “You all do. You want a salute, I’ll salute.”

Blackbird returned his focus to Starlight, who still appeared to be most amused by his confusion.

“I merely ask why you not salute.” Starlight said, not even bothering to suppress his amusement, “I did not order you to salute. You could have told me you not salute me because I not captain.”



Next up, The Captain!
Communist Starlight

Crushing inequality
This just in: Sudden disappearance of adorable medical bat pony from Earth! Suicide rates are through the roof and people with diabetes are struggling to keep up!
When will this savior of all man/ponykind return?
BigBuggyBastage
My Little Pony - 1992 Edition
Wallet After Summer Sale -
Not a Llama - Happy April Fools Day!

Go fsck yourself
@Communist Starlight
people with diabetes are struggling to keep up!

You ain't kiddin', tovarisch! For the past week, maybe 10 days, I've been having some very, VERY high blood sugars. Having a Hellish time trying to isolate the cause. Is it bad insulin? Poor site absorption? Allergies/histamine flare-up? Stress? Only Medi-Bat can tell!

When will this savior of all man/ponykind return?

She's pretty smart, so she's probably laying low until after Election Day. lol


FWIW, I have not yet read the story update(s) dating back nine days now (!). Sorry for being such a complete poop. Besides the blood sugar issues, I've been very busy with engineering projects, the latest involving JTAG interfaces and "reverse-engineering" / "hacking" my way through some proprietary protocols on it, using a Bus Pirate and sigrok.
97blackbird

“Captain Razagal approaching” the computer voice of SSgt Reckless announced. A second later the door opened.

“Captain on the Bridge!” Exposition declared in her over-loud, but perfectly professional manner.

Captain Joe Razagal shuffled through the door. Clad in a cerulean, extra-fluffy, extra-fuzzy bath-robe; mostly-white tee-shirt; pyjama bottoms with grey bat-pony pattern; and grey furry bath-slippers with bat-ears on the straps; he gave no immediate impression of being an intrepid and thoroughly-competent ship captain.

But none of his non-regulation garb had any detrimental effect to Exposition’s professional enthusiasm. She stiffened, ramrod straight, to the position of attention and rendered a salute. “Good morning, Sir!”

“Joe!” Medi jumped up and flew off as though spring-loaded to impact — rather than land — into the right side of Joe’s fuzzy, bathrobe’s collar with a pronounced ‘poomf’. Joe rocked back slightly at the bat-pony’s attack and brought his left hand up to cuddle Medi as she clung to his neck as best as her tiny limbs and wings could manage. “EEEEEEEE!” Medi excitedly squealed. “I missed you so much!”

“Hey, little Buddy!” Joe chuckled gleefully, “what do you mean you missed me? You were in my room all night.”

Medi pushed back just enough to look up into Joe’s face. “I was?” Joe nodded. “Medi leaned back into his neck and squeezed as much of him as she could hold. “I guess it was a dream then…”

Joe sobered, but looked up, taking stock of everyone on the bridge and threw a wave of acknowledgement to a befuddled Blackbird, who was stuck in indecision loop like a broken animatronic as his arm jerked up, then down, then up again, awkwardly waffling a most uncertain salute. Joe then patted Medi. “What was your dream, lil’ Buddy?”

Medi closed her eyes and sniffed. “I dreamed that we were together, but a long, time ago. Months, or maybe years had gone by without us doing anything together. It was like a limbo of dreamless sleep.” she sniffed and wiped her eyes with her wing-claws and before clasping Joe’s neck again. She stared out into the void of space through the viewscreen and felt an eerie chill run through her bones. “Even now, it feels like this is someone else's reality, like somewhere, beyond that screen people are right now looking at us and seeing everything we do as though we are locked in time and only come to life at their whim.”

Joe looked around at everyone on the bridge. Then, all at once, everyone looked with wide-eyed wonder to the screen.
then slowly, as one, they all waved.
Communist Starlight

Crushing inequality
This just in: Equestria in flames! Disappearance of adorable Medi-bat has sparked riots all across the country!
Celestia is due to a speech tomorrow!
Joseph Raszagal
Wallet After Summer Sale -

Emily Brickenbrackle III
Okay… so…

I'm just throwing this out there and wondering~

If I can find some time to write some more amusing Medi-Bat insanity, in-between work at the casino and life in general, how would everyone here like to be portrayed on the ship?

Because I'm not opposed to having a fully-staffed crew on the SS WhateverIt'sCalled. Keep in mind, I'm definitely going to go with Star Trek rank and file, mostly because I'm a nerd xD .

Preferences, personality tropes, likes and dislikes; all of that helps. I'll do my very best portraying you all. And thank you very much for even following this craziness this far <3 .

Special thanks go to 97blackbird for getting me interested in the idea of trying to do something like this. I don't think I've ever written a short story involving people that I actually know.

Drinking right now, so I'll leave this off here. I think, even after input, I'll wait for a bit, just to jot everything down in my notes folder. Also, I want to make sure I don't interrupt 97blackbird's story. I don't wanna be rude.
BigBuggyBastage
My Little Pony - 1992 Edition
Wallet After Summer Sale -
Not a Llama - Happy April Fools Day!

Go fsck yourself
Man, have I got some catching-up to do…!

@Joseph Raszagal
I love the idea! I don't think there's a way of getting too much Medi-Bat in our lives, either.

TBH, I've been terrible at keeping up with events and stories in this thread. As for portrayal, I'd probably use Crow T. Robot as a basis. The "original" Crow, with Trace Beaulieu voicing him, of course. Maybe add in some technical skills (computers, math, electronics, etc.), irreverent attitude, a little AD[H]D, and perhaps episodes of depression & hypomania if the story needs a twist or turn somewhere. It's done about the same for my life. LoL

Oh, and he has allergies, the weirdest types, even though he's a robot: he breaks out in hives if he's in the presence of a deck of UNO cards; the mention of Gerry Rafferty makes his eyes itch; Diet Coke makes him speak Estonian, with a French accent, and a slight wheeze.
97blackbird

Medi was feeling much better. The cool drink of water and a comfort-coated Tylenol dispensed from Bigbug worked wonders for her headache. Why the gold-plated crow-bot had the medication was a question she didn’t ask.

As for the crew, Blackbird still wasn’t happy about being duped by Starlight, but his sore attitude could also be because of his own day-after-drinking discomfort. Starlight was also moping, having been deprived of his alcohol for the duration of the shakedown cruise of the Equestrian Space Force vessel Staff-Sergeant Reckless. And finally, Captain Joe was back in regulation blues and taking care to put SSgt Reckless through her paces in a very non-reckless manner.

Exposition was thorough with her briefing of the specifications and workings of the E.S.F SSgt Reckless: a modern, space-exploration vessel. She covered every detail of every station and all of the crew were soon running the simulations with increasing confidence and synergy.

Though the ship’s name of ‘Reckless’ did trouble Medi a bit. Why couldn’t it be named the Perceptive, or Prudence, or perhaps even the E.S.F. Playing-It-Safe? She liked the sound of that one best of all. Any of those names sounded better to her than SSgt Reckless… and why just a Staff Sergeant anyway? Nopony had thought to ask.

But a space ship’s name should be the least of her concerns, Medi reminded herself; perched on Joe’s shoulder like a pirate’s parrot, her main concern as the Medical Officer was the physical well-being of the captain and crew. She flew down to Joe’s left hand and bit it, drawing the necessary drop of blood. A swirl in her mouth, a smack of her tongue and lips, and the health data just appeared in her mind.

“It’s time for lunch, Joe,” Medi announced, “Shut down the simulation. Also, the crew could use a break.”

“I’m the Captain, Medi,” Joe reminded her, “you ‘suggest’ that we take a break; you do not order it. Return to your post.”

Medi bristled slightly at the rebuke, but said nothing.

“It’s just proper courtesy, Medi, and following chain-of-command.” Joe explained. “No reason to be upset.”

Medi flew up and out of sight. Without saying a word. He heard the door to the bridge slide open and closed.

“Medi?” Joe couldn’t look. The displays were screaming for his attention. The Tac screen was lit up with simulated yellow ‘unknown’ contacts that all needed to be queried by BigBug to determine their dispositions. Blackbird was itching for a target. Any Target. After firing the main guns once he was hooked. Starlight was interrogating their last contact about their political preferences to “verify friendly status and loyalty to the ‘Party’”. Why all simulated space traffic had to be loyal Communists was a subject for a later time. And Exposition needed a course update at the helm so she could maneuver most efficiently. All of this was on his mind when a realization struck that he was certain that there had to be a reason why the bridge was getting darker, but there were more important things…

His world went black.

He awoke to flashing red ceiling lamps of the bridge. His head was on a pillow, and Medi on his chest and Exposition at his side were staring down at him.

"You fainted, Sir," Exposition exposited, briefly, to his gratitude, "the modern and efficient ceiling lights of the E.S.N. Exploration Vessel SSgt Reckless will keep flashing until your vitals stabilize."

“I beg your pardon, Captain,” Medi said, rather sternly, “I disobeyed a direct order and left the bridge to fetch this pillow. But if I had obeyed your direct order, I’d be admitting you into sickbay for a concussion, rather than just treating your case of hypo-glycemic induced stupidity.”

Without waiting for a response, she flew over and placed a straw in his hand. “Now stick that in your juice-box and suck it.” Medi hovered over to look him in the eye again, "Medical Doctor's orders, Captain."

Joe woozily gripped the straw, "Aye, Ma'am," he slurred, "and thank you for the lesson and your dedication to my health."

Exposition watched Medi fly off with a suppressed grin. "Here's your juice-box, Sir- she held a green and red box up over his chest so he could see it -I hope you like fruit-punch, she's commandeered all the mango. She said you wouldn't mind."

Joe popped the seal on the box and slurped down every last drop.

"Oh! You must really like the fruit punch… eh, sir?" Exposition took the empty and handed him another.

"I hate fruit punch," Joe said, popping his straw in the next box, "I'm just following the orders given by the Chain-of-Command."
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