Happy Birthday, MLP:FiM! MLP:FiM turns 10 years old this year! Let's celebrate with an art event!

The Continuing Adventures of Medi-Bat

Communist Starlight

Crushing inequality
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.
My Little Pony - 1992 Edition
Wallet After Summer Sale -
Not a Llama - Happy April Fools Day!

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

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
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.

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 .

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.

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
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

“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?
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.

“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.
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