Characters in this post
View character profile for: Aurelius
View character profile for: Alisha Zarai
View character profile for: Claymore
Can you speak comfortably enough to describe your condition?"
An older tanned skin woman had just came floating into the belly-cannon control room.
He looked her up and as always his internal systems perform standard generic scans.
#Human. Predicted age 45-50. 5'7". In good health. Minor abrasions to left shoulder and arm.#
He noticed a med pack on her hands. Before he could reply the voice from someone that was not the Captain came over the comms. The room went dark for a few seconds before emergency lights came on. The console in front of him went dark and the cannon powered down.
Whatever they were planning up in the bridge this was it. Time to get out of dodge.
The ship appeared to shake and groan as what he imagined where impact from the enemy vessels struck their shields.
He saw the concern in her face in the scarlet light. Searched deep down for any words that could assure her they would be fine and found none.
~It will be what will be. ~ he thought grimly.
After what seemed like an eternity the Cornucopia lurched forward and they felt it in their bones they were underway at speeds inconceivable to the mind.
He thought about her offer to help. Checked his internal sensors. The damage was not life threatening yet. He had time to get to his gear. He was not comfortable accepting help from others if he could avoid.
"I'll live." he told he curtly. "You should seat down. You look pale." Wondering if this woman had ever seen the kind of action they had just been through. Somehow he doubted it. Despite her age she looked almost overwhelmed.
Once power and artificial gravity were restored he unstrapped himself from the console with wincing from the pain on his side and left towards his geared directed by Aurelis and walked past her into the dark corridors towards the cargo area.
He knelt bare chested in a secluded area of the cargo hold. In front of him several bandages, a scalpel, a small thin metal tube and a vial of hydrogen peroxide.
It was always a pain to get his exo suit off. TheFujiwara Recon IV Exo-Battle suit was state of the art, could mask his heat signature, keep him warm in extreme cold weather, offer protection in toxic and nuclear environments. It connected superficially against several points in his spine and major joints in his arms and legs offering increased stability and kinetic energy absorption.
Hell, the suit could even hold his insides in place and stop him from bleeding out as long as it's carapace was intact for a few hours until he got medical attention.
A few minutes earlier he had injected himself with the nanite dosage provided in the Biotic Kit. With a self live of 5 years before he needed to purchase a new batch and they stopped having any effect, the molecular robots would help speed up the healing process to damage made to his organic and cybernetic organs.
A boosting mechanism to his own immune and lymphatic systems. It would help him recover from the injuries and sickness faster. It would keep his cybernetic organs working longer before needing replacing. It would even help his liver put on with the abuse he often subjected it to.
He took a deep breath. And immediately regretted with. A sharp pain shot through his ribs and chest. He reached for the scalpel with his right cybernetic hand.
He reached across his chest and made a deep incision between his ribs. He gritted his teeth.
The words #Pneumothorax. Seek Medical help.# kept flashing in his optical display. He kept blinking it away but the words kept popping up.
Blood dripped down his side. He picked the metal tube and slowly and as steady has he could he drove it into the incision towards his wounded lung. His internal system guiding him to where he needed to release the escaped air from the lung. The air and likely blood was filling the space outside of his left lung, between it and chest wall. This buildup of air and blood was putting pressure on the lung, so it could not expand as much as it normally did when he took a breath. It hurt like like hell.
He was going to get his pulmonary system replaced as soon as he could.
Air and blood escaped through the tube and almost immediately he took a deeper breath and the pain slightly subsided.
He pulled the tube out and quickly doused the wound with hydrogen peroxide before injecting the wound with biotech adhesive. The BioAdh was used often to quickly close wounds that could not be stitched. It was popular in battlefields and among criminals that could seeks medical help without alerting authorities. Was great to treat stab wounds.
The agent would almost glue itself to the edges of open wounds before contracting on itself pulling flesh tighter and heating up in a few short seconds to intense heat cauterizing the area.
It would fall off on it's own once the organism beneath healed.
Claymore dressed the wound with a bandage and wrapped it as tightly as he could. Hopefully the nanites would help him recover faster and the damage would not be a hindrance for to long.
He needed to rest and stretched on the cold hard floor enjoying the metal against his flesh. He resisted the urge to down some more tetrameth.
Yeah, he was definitely going to be replacing his pulmonary system as soon as he could. But than he thought about the ounces of Cartilian Dust he had on one of his bags. The high would not feel the same without organic lungs.
~Ah bollocks.~ he swore with a grin thinking back on how he had felt when the scalpel cut into his flesh with a shiver of pleasure.
He fell asleep, exhausted.