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Food supplies at Hell's Gate were running low once again.

"What do you think is in this?" Jake asked, poking the bowl of stew in front of him with the tip of his spoon.

Ivory looked into the murky depths of her own bowl. "Fuck knows." She cordially hated stew and the sea of brown liquid in front of her looked even worse than the meal she remembered from Earth.

Jake ate a cautious mouthful. "This isn't so bad."

"Do you want mine?" Ivory asked.

Jake nodded, his mouth too full for him to speak.

"Take it." Ivory pushed the bowl towards him and got up, disappearing from the mess hall.

Ivory sat in the lab teasing Tigger with some string that she had stolen from one of Grace's drawers

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Ivory sat in the lab teasing Tigger with some string that she had stolen from one of Grace's drawers. It was not long after dinnertime which meant that the room was empty for once as the majority of the scientists were still eating or had already gone to bed. Although she did appreciate the distraction that came from others being around her she lived for the stolen moments where she could be alone with Tigger without anyone breathing down her neck about his hair getting onto their clothes or him digging his claws into a teetering pile of paperwork.

The door flew open, clanging loudly against the titanium wall. "Ivory? You have to get to the medical bay now, there's some of the scientists-" Max said breathlessly, his glasses askew.

"Some of the scientists what?"

"Throwing up and fainting and I think some of them have a fever I don't know what to do I-"

Ivory cut Max off and turned to her cat. "Stay here Tig." She grabbed her bag from beneath Grace's desk and followed Max out of the lab, swinging her rucksack onto her shoulders.

"Come on, it looked really bad." The man began to run, his footfalls echoing off of the high ceiling.

Ivory jogged after him, bolting through the open door of the medical bay and dropping her bag onto the floor. "Oh fucking hell." She said softly, looking around the room and noticing just how many people were occupying the beds. The field medics had joined forces with the medics who worked in Hell's Gate medical bay but they were still run off their feet.

Trudy appeared in the doorway with Grace who was leaning heavily against her, her eyes closed. "Got you another one. Come on, Grace."

"Ivory?" Lawrie, the head of the field medics, tossed her a cloth. "Sort Doctor Augustine then move onto Jake, come back to me after that."

It was the early hours of the morning and the number of ill people in the medical bay had tripled since Ivory had been called in

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It was the early hours of the morning and the number of ill people in the medical bay had tripled since Ivory had been called in. Anyone who hadn't shown signs of the illness had been roped into helping the sick.

"Come on Grace, get it up." Ivory picked up another cardboard sick bowl from the top of the metal beside table. She held it for the older woman, pushing her red hair back as far away from her face as it would go.

"This is beyond embarrassing." Grace muttered.

"I've seen you throw up and you've seen me throw up, now we're even." Ivory shrugged her shoulders. "I've seen worse than this, don't worry." She picked up a damp cloth and wiped the side of Grace's mouth.

"I can do that myself." Grace said irritably, trying to swat Ivory's hand away. Ivory seriously doubted that, the woman's hands were shaking so badly that she'd had to hold the glass so that Grace could have a drink.

"I know you can." Ivory lied. "But I've got to earn my keep somehow haven't I?" She put the cloth back down and picked up the bowl. "What have you been eating?" She asked, looking down at the electric blue liquid in the bottom of the bowl.

"The same as you."

"This isn't right." Ivory muttered, biting her lip.  "Can I have this?"

"What the fuck do you want my vomit for?"

"To keep in a jar next to my bed." Ivory said sarcastically.

Grace raised her eyebrows.

"To look at. I think you've been poisoned."

Grace nodded, her face pale.

"Can I use your microscope?"

"Just don't get sick on it."

"I won't."

"I'll be back soon."

"Go on Ivy." Grace mumbled. "Nothing will get done if you're in here fucking about."

The dark haired woman shot Grace an anxious look. She'd called her by her first name, the shortened version at that, she was most definitely not well.

A/N: Something died on the drive outside my house and there are maggots so I'm not leaving my bedroom for the foreseeable

Dishonourable Discharge: Grace Augustine Where stories live. Discover now