"Operation Operative Operation"

Written By: Asymphototropic

Disclaimer: I don't own Gundam wing.

Author: Asymphototropic (attracted toward the light, but never quite arrives there)

Email: asymphototropic@aol.com

Rating: R

Warnings: Language

Summary: Someone wants to steal Duo's appendix. While its still in him?

Pairings: 1 + 2 + 3

 

"Operation Operative Operation "

 

Part 1

"It wont kill you today."

The doctor pinned his patient with a sober look. "Next week, next month, next year, I cant promise you. You need to have it out."

"Its my choice, isn't it?"

"To a certain extent, yes."

"What do you mean by that?"

"You have the right to refuse the treatment that I recommend. And I have the right to ground you. No more field assignments. And no more flying. I hope you enjoy pushing papers, Mr Maxwell."

"Isn't blackmail illegal?"

"Call it what you will. Not only do I have an obligation to treat you to the best of my ability. But I am also responsible for the welfare of your fellow agents. If you experience acute health problems out in the field, which jeopardize agents depending upon you. Whatever bad happens to them is my fault."

"But Sally Po said..."

The physician tried hard not to glare now. Commander Po was the ranking
officer in charge of all Preventers medical ops. If Maxwell thought name-dropping with respect to the doctor's supreme superior officer would intimidate him into changing his recommendations, the kid could think again.

But a moment's reflection resulted in reassessment. Dr Po held a special place in this boy's past. Basically, she had been his pediatrician, representing the first medical care he had ever received. Someone he trusted first and foremost. It was a bizarre situation, militarily speaking.

"If you wish to contact Dr Po for a second opinion, I would not be averse," he said calmly.

"Oh look, doc. I don' mean ter say ya dun know yer business." The L2 street accent, prominent for a moment, was then stifled. "Its just a surprise. I mean, I get sucker-punched by some punk in a bar room brawl. And then you tell me the pain in my gut is appendicitis."

"Well, I don't doubt the sucker punch aggravated the inflammation," the
physician smiled. "But the underlying problem appears to be chronic appendicitis."

"Huh. I remember Sally saying something about that. But she just put me on antibiotics, and the pain went away."

"Yes. We can and will treat with antibiotics. But in your case, the pain recurs. This is a repeat event, according to your records." The physician eyed the impressively large volume that represented the kid's medical history. "Sooner or later, your appendix may go gangrenous or rupture."

"Hmm. Yurp. Lovely." The boy scratched his head thoughtfully.

"There are three other very good reasons to go for elective surgery. If you have the procedure done when you are well, your time in hospital is very brief. Quickly in, quickly out. You'd prefer that, surely?"

"Hell yes," the kid agreed fervently.

"Then there is the question of why you have recurrent attacks of inflammation in your appendix. I'm not seeing a fecalith on any of the abdominal images."

"Translation. I haven't got a tiny shit brick up my alley."

The physician laughed aloud. "That is colorful but accurate." Then he looked more somber. "There is a small chance of a localized cancer causing the chronic inflammatory state. That is at least statistically unlikely. But an excellent reason to go for surgery. In those instances, having the appendix out is usually curative of the cancer."

Duo bit his lip. "And the third reason?"

"L2 parasites. The worst of drug resistant colonial bugs. You and I both know your childhood medical treatment was...less than optimal. If you have some lingering nasty passengers that are sequestered in your appendix. Well, having a look at them under the microscope would be useful."

"Okay, doc. Let's say I buy into this elective surgery thing. Why do I gotta go to L1 to have it? You're a surgeon. Can't you just slap me onto a clean table, tie me down, slice me open, and thwack the damn thing out?"

Suddenly the doctor was staring into the eyes of Death, and it made him
shudder. This boy, so young to be an agent, had been a gundam pilot at an even earlier age. A killer of many. Inured to pain and violence. He was not joking in his proposal. The surgeon believed if he agreed to it, the kid would probably let him have-at, with a leather strap clenched in the patient's teeth, a quick slash or two of the scalpel, and be done with it.

"I should prefer to have a more senior anesthesiologist on the case."
Maxwell's record indicated major pharmaceutical problems. Either his physiology had been tampered-with during wartime maneuvers, or he was naturally extraordinarily resistant to a wide variety of drugs. "Also, the powers-that-be have decided med evac and centralized medical intervention are economically desirable for elective treatments. I gather its a major budgetary crisis situation."

"Gods save us from bureaucrats," the kid rolled his eyes.

"Amen to that."

"So its off to L1 with me, huh?"

"I really do advise it. The sooner the better."

" 'Kay." Duo Maxwell sighed softly.

~ * ~

Chapter 2

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