[sub][sub]"Hold still, this'll only be a sec."[/sub][/sub]
[b][h2]Simon[/h2][/b]
                              [sub]"Almost done...just gotta get these sutures in..."[/sub]
[b][h2]Kyralos[/h2][/b]
         [sub]"There we go. All done."[/sub]
[b][h2]Kalan General Hospital[/h2][/b]
[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=AybS7AwKJCM[/youtube]

[indent]"Good as new. You'll be up and about in no time, mister Sephelak. Just make sure to take your medicine regularly, don't stress the limb, and keep it dry when you have a shower, alright?"

[i]"Thank you, Dr. Brewer. Thank you very much."[/i]

Simon smiled and shook hands with the middle-aged man as they stood. His patient, tanned and muscled from time spent as a miner, waved a goodbye as he left the day surgery suite. Simon returned the gesture as the doors slid shut behind him, and he sighed as he took off his gloves and overalls.

The Teret Hierarchy was weird. No sooner had he returned from a field operation to an abandoned Hierarchy research vessel that he was assigned to this backwater planet. Teret had hands in this jungle colony, it seemed, and the hospital was part of it. Simon had been there for six months already as part of a civilian and military detachment; the civvies were integrated into the infrastructure, while the soldiers were sent to fringe outposts for guard duty. He was part of a team of doctors that were currently employed in the hospital as surgeons and consultants.

Simon understood why though. Backwater planets like these, even though they had the infrastructure didn't mean they had the manpower to keep it running. When they'd first arrived half a year ago, the hospital was barely running. Powered, yes, but with a skeleton crew of doctors and nurses tending to the various cases. Things always piled up on Kyralos; a poison barb here, animal injury there, those were common sightings, as were the shootings. Every day someone landed on his table bleeding from a hole or several, and it'd become commonplace for him to even recognise the people under his scapel.

Even as he threw away his surgical gloves and overall, he could hear the PA in the suite sounding. Another casualty, bleeding profusely from a severed artery, to be expected in suite six. Doctor Hansen. That man was a dab hand at emergency cases, as he had often witnessed. No one else dared to delve into the bloody cases like him.

But since when had he not had his fair share of death? Not since the [i]Lone Star[/i]. Nothing had prepared him for that ship. The mercenaries that had lost their lives that day...if it weren't for the Hierarchy's amazing pilots, he would've perished as well. The mere thought sent a shiver down his spine.

[color=pink]"Doctor?"[/color]

The female voice startled him out of his reverie. He was in the midst of washing his hands, but had blanked out at the sink. As he finished the wash, he addressed the nurse behind him.

"Yes, nurse Waylan?"

[color=pink]"Your next case is ready, doctor."[/color]

Simon stopped and turned slightly to look at Waylan. A brunette shorter than he was, she was still a dedicated nurse. Her face was scrunched with concern as she studied him. He must've looked awful as her concerned expression grew.

[color=pink]"You...okay, doc?"[/color]

Simon shook his hands of water and dried them with a paper towel.

"Hmm? Oh, yes of course, Waylan. Why'd you ask?"

She joined him in pulling on fresh overalls as they talked.

[color=pink]"You just looked a little pale, doc. Like somethin' was bothering ya."[/color]

He smiled and shook his head.

"Everything's fine, Waylan, but thank you very much for the concern."

She returned the smile as she wrapped a surgical mask round her face.

[color=pink]"S'alright, doc. If we don't give a crap, who will?"[/color]

"Too true, Waylan."

With mask and gloves, doctor and nurse strode back into the suite even as another nurse wheeled in a patient. Without breaking stride, Waylan briefed him on the case.

[color=pink]"Mister T'viak. Colonist. Iron worker. Today someone accidentally left a white hot piece of rebar near his workspace, and he laid a hand on it. Second degree burns over most of his left palm and fingers."[/color]

True enough, the gruff man ahead of him cradled his left hand in his right. It was wrapped in bandages, but he knew that the injury was bad. With a gesture, Simon bade the man to lay down on the operating table and he took the injured hand to inspect it. The bandages peeled gently away from burned flesh, and T'viak winced and growled as he slowly removed them.

"Alright, mister T'viak, now what I'm going to do is numb the area first. After that I'll be removing all the burnt areas to expose raw, healthy flesh. Then I'll be applying some cooling gel that'll heal your hand, alright?"

[i]"Just get it over with, doc."[/i]

Without another word, Simon grabbed a pre-prepared syrette of local anesthetic and injected it into his hand. He waited for a few seconds for the numbing agent to kick in, then grabbed a scalpel and tweezers and went to work. Several minutes later and the man sat on the edge of the table, his hand wrapped in fresh bandages as cooling medigel worked its magic on his burns. T'viak gave a weary sigh as he stood and gave his thanks to Simon and walked off. The doctor breathed his own sigh of relief as he went into the back to wash up and disrobe. Just another day in the operating theatre.

Without warning, sirens began blaring in the room. He recognised the warning immediately.

Air raid siren. Incoming on the city. Hard contact.

Just then a great rumble shot through the floor. An explosion. Shattering glass.

[color=pink]"D-doc?"[/color]

Waylan stared at him, scared out of her wits. He quickly pulled off his gloves and threw them aside as he joined her side.

[color=pink]"That siren. There's something crashing into the city."[/color]

"I'm sure it's nothing, Waylan. Can we get outside somewhere to see what's going on?"

She nodded.

[color=pink]"The waiting room outside has a television."[/color]

Together they left the suite and joined the other assortment of staff members in the day surgery waiting room. The TV was on, and footage could be seen of the city streets just outside. Fire and wreckage littered the ground as civilians ran for their lives from strange armed soldiers. The livery on them was unfamiliar, as was the gunship that circled the air above the plaza. Above, he could hear gunfire and screaming.

They were inside. Slaughtering anyone in their way.

[color=pink]"O-oh my god."[/color]

[i]"They're inside! We're gonna get killed!"[/i]

What staff remained ran away even as Simon considered his options. Either he could run away and hopefully avoid capture, or respond in kind.

His training was telling him to do the latter.

Simon turned to Waylan and gripped her shoulders.

"Waylan, I need you to get someplace safe. Whatever's coming isn't going to be friendly. I know it."

[color=pink]"But what about you, doc?"[/color]

Simon turned to glance at her as he ran for a corner of the suite and placed his hand on an access panel.

"Don't worry. I'll be fine."

He tapped a code into the panel and the entire section of wall it was on hissed. Air shot from the sides as it slid into the wall to reveal a little hidey hole with a set of armour and an all-too-familiar firearm in it. Without stopping, Simon strode into the crawlspace and began donning his armour. Each piece near slithered across his slender frame as they clicked into place.

Waylan watched, more stunned than anything, as the mild-mannered, if a bit spacey doctor in front of her transformed into a soldier, machine-like in his precision. As he stood and slid the wall back into place, he flipped the faceplate of his helmet down over his face. The red cross visor on it blazed into life as he strode to her.

"Go find the others. Take them to whatever safe spot you know of. Wait for this whole thing to blow over. I'll try to keep in contact but if I don't make it, contact the Hierarchy. They'll want to know."

She nodded and ran off as Simon shouldered his rifle. Blood had been spilled today, and he had to make sure no more people died.
[hr]

Simon stepped into the hallway, rifle raised as he swept his gaze down the hall. A few bodies lay scattered about, and the scorch marks on the walls meant the combat had gone past him. Safe. For now.

Without pause, he broke for the end of the hallway, following the exit signs above his head. Surely others would have made it out alive through there. He reached the double doors, threw them open, and was greeted with chaos. Smoke billowed from the wreckage of a craft in the plaza, and soldiers were fanning out from the attack ship in the air. All around, civilians were running in fear. The mysterious soldiers were searching through the crowds for someone, and they weren't above shooting anyone that got in their way.

Simon held his breath, hoped they didn't notice another suspicious runaway, and made a break for an alley across the street. Gunfire peppered his footfalls as he ran across, and as he ducked into the alley he could hear boots behind him. 

He didn't stop.

The alleys and back streets were confusing as ever, and he'd lost count of how many times he'd gone in circles or doubled back on himself to lose his tail. Just as he thought he was good, the cityscape gave way to forest as mother nature consumed what abandoned buildings were in this part of town. Other individuals were heading this way as well, and Simon decided to join them.

With rifle shouldered and not raised, he jogged in the general direction of the other runners. Maybe sooner or later he'd find one of them to figure out what was going on.[/indent]