MachineSoul

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Superb work, congratulations!

PIZZA PARTY, EVERYONE

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Yeah, on that note, I might end up attaching Aidan to the fireteam once Kuraiko's been secured and sent away with the extra medical team

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

I'mhungry said AAAARRRRGH

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

D'awww, shucks, Esailia, thank you :3 Trying my best! Also, lots of luck for the exams!

And yeah, the captain can take note, my next post will be about taking Kuraiko out of his GEAR to get him checked.

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

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His muscles tired and slightly aching, Aidan pushed himself away from Arcade's torso after he finished another round of compressions so he could squeeze the ventilation balloon twice and send some oxygen down the open throat holding plastic tubing. He was so concentrated on the fight for Arcade's last hope of survival that he started to sweat, his hands went cold but he was lucid, conscious and motivated to hold tightly on the small chance of his patient to recover from this horrific accident. As soon as he started the next set of chest compressions, he affixed his eyes on the monitors as it displayed and uttered Prepare defibrillation once again; it would be the fourth shock Arcade had to endure and the doctor wasn't sure if it was useful at all, starting to doubt the green, spiky line was a fibrillation and started to suspect it was a descent into an asystole. He injected one shot of adrenaline into the pilot's catheterized vein and he was ready prepare for another one, but he knew the unbelievably slim chances of an asystole recovery outside hospital conditions: <2%. But he was willing to struggle, sweat, bleed and cry for that minuscule chance, hoping that Arcade would be that one rare patient that will live to tell the story of his own resurrection. As soon he was done with the chest compression set, he punched the charge button with a snap of his arm in order to lose as little time as possible and then took the balloon again in his hand, squeezing it twice. The morbid alert turned up as soon as he got through the eleventh compression and immediately aborted the procedure so he could administer the shock, Arcade's nervous system reacting to the shock with a sudden contraction of the hands. Aidan anxiously awaited for the readings to come up, but to his dismay, there was still no stable pulse, confirming his greatest fear: Arcade's heart was shutting down and the doctor just realized why everything happened in this particular order.

The whole chain reaction started when he mobilized Arcade's body from his mangled GEAR, he knew the risks of putting in motion a patient with multiple injuries that affected the venous system of the patient. Arcade must have formed multiple blood clots that got sucked in by the venal flow, or maybe it was one huge chunk that got separated into smaller pieces: one surely got into the bronchial artery, causing pulmonary embolism, another must have reached the cervical region of the spinal cord, cutting off the phrenic nerve. Another one just blocked the coronary artery, resulting in a lethal thrombotic storm. Aidan first decided against anticoagulants, knowing that the patient would soon end up under the scalpel and most likely bleed from having the multiple shrapnel buried in his body surgically removed; there was that and the wound he clogged with gunshot wound microsponges. The fibrillation-like spikes gave Aidan hope that rescue was still possible, blaming it on hypovolemia and hypotension instead of a blood clot reaching the coronaries. The dog now faced a tough decision, one of the toughest in his medical life, in fact: he could inject anticoagulants using a very risky and kludge-y procedure, but the risk involved a massive hemorrhagia that would kill Arcade anyway, or just leave the poor sod go and get his eternal rest. With a patient that hadn't suffered any trauma like the dying pilot and treated with anticoagulants, one would still be on edge about the internal bleeding side-effect, but in Arcade's case, he'd become a fountain of blood after a strong enough injection to dissolve the clots; thing is, the poor guy was already hypovolemic from the sudden blood loss, his spleen couldn't possibly eject enough blood to compensate for the heavy loss and his bone marrow could not produce erythrocytes quickly enough to nullify another bleed-out. Honestly, Aidan preferred to just jump out of the chopper rather than to be the one responsible with the decision making, but this is what all those years of medical training boiled down to: deciding the next step in order to assure a patient's survival. Or in this case, untimely demise. Would he be the one to declare Arcade's death, or will he pass down the decision for the crash team waiting at the landcrawler, after they would struggle to keep him alive, only to come to the same conclusion too?

It took a half of a second for the whole train of thoughts to rush through the doctor's brain and end up with the decision, sending powerful chills down his furred back. Aidan closed his eyes and sighed in exhaustion- no, frustration; he halted the motion of his body, though his muscle memory urged him to keep pressing down. He took the electrodes and the defibrillation pads off Arcade and set them aside, so he could completely cover his destroyed, defeated body. He stored the dirty electrodes and pads in a special compartment of his kit and took off his gloves. He brought up his left arm, where he found his wristwatch, telling him the precise time of that day, but the heavy knot in his neck prevented him from speaking into the comms; like every other doctor, he hated to give the bad news, not because he was afraid of people's reaction, but he could not stand the cold tone he had to adopt while delivering the morbid, ritualistic speech. Aidan got a grip of himself, counted to three and opened his mouth.

"Sir. Dr. Aidan Sykes, I am to declare GEAR pilot Arcade as: deceased. Time of death: 17:56:07. Cause of death: thrombotic storm. Cause of death detail: the thrombotic storm was most likely caused by multiple open injuries caused by shrapnel, thus facilitating the formation of blood clots. Mobilization of the patient caused them to be carried by the venous flux, anticoagulants were no go as he would have risked a massive bleed-out during the surgical procedure. My suspicion: three clots have formed, one caused pulmonary embolism, another shut down a part of the spinal cord controlling diaphragm contraction and the last one clogged the coronaries. A fibrillation-like pulse indicated immediate CPR treatment. Fibrillation was an artifact caused by bradicardia associated with asystoloe. Patient was hypovolemic and hypotensive. The presence of the clot in the coronary artery rendered the resurrection procedure useless. Procedures: IV catheter with isotonic solution, foil cover to prevent hypothermia, emergency cricothyrotomy with very good results, emergency CPR with four defibrillations and one epinephrine injection."

"Less-bullshit translation: Arcade got hit hard, I tried everything I could do with the little I had. If I were to inject him with blood thinners, he'd bleed out during the operation, no guarantee he'd make it. I preferred to take his death on my behalf instead of throwing my responsibility over to someone else. I tried everything to keep the poor sod alive, but from this point on, we'd waste resources on a corpse. I am very sorry, sir. I'll give him the final honorary."

Like that, Aidan spilled out his frustration and blunt honesty. He didn't expect to be praised or rebuked, he did his job the best he could and fought fiercely for Arcade's life, yet, he was trying to stop a derailing train. The dog then laid his uncovered hand over Arcade's, starting to mutter a low chant mostly to himself.

I, son of Arvara, have fulfilled my duty, yet, my blood has been taken away. While your warrior was with us, he watched over my brothers and in the time of need, I've watched over him. You, oh dear brother, lay down to sleep, for it is my turn to stand vigil; for my voice will guide you through dark. And hope that one day, we will be again, brothers.

Aidan handled the body over to the crash team, his face was a mixture between resignation and calmness and once the transfer was done, him and Ken were off and away, returning to the field. With the news of another accident, Aidan felt something like a burning knife twisting his core and immediately knelt over to prepare the kit for another emergency. He then half-entered the cockpit of the Sky Hawk and placed a limp hand on Ken's shoulder.

"Kuraiko's down too. Him, I promise, will make it. Drop me off to the mines, screw the GEAR."

"Ken. I hope this wasn't the first man to die in your helo. If he is, I'll buy you a six pack."

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Nyuuuu, wait for meeeeee :c
It'll be up tonight!

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Bladewindramzamsoulmachinesilver said
ARGH YOUR POSTS ARE FINE, STOP WORRYING

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Silverwind Blade said ARGH YOUR POSTS ARE FINE, STOP WORRYING

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Aidan squeezed the balloon at a constant interval of time, the corner of his right eye focused on the VitaSign readings of Arcade's deteriorated health situation. He was grinding his teeth, his nerves were twisting and his patience wasting, constantly fearing that Arcade's body will simply give up the fight and shut down; as the repetitive motion turned into a reflex, his mind wandered off and thought of every grim scenario that popped up in his head. What if there was a blood clot causing pulmonary embolism? What if Arcade lost enough blood for his body to go into a latent shock? What if his decision to perform a cricothyrotomy was rather rash? He tried to shake them all off, but an overwhelming sense of terror engulfed his fur and sent shivers down his spine as he heard shots very near to him. The dog was lucky enough to have Blade reducing the threat to null, he even sighed heavily to relief himself of some stress.

"Roger, sir. Thanks for the support." He then raised is head to take a quick glimpse at Stumpy's general position. Useless piece of armor-cased shit you are

Then, a blessing came down upon his furred ears, the whopping sound of chopper blades spinning in a distance was everything he needed to regain his cool and get back to work. Aidan prepared the wheels on the stretcher and elevated the surface so that it would easily roll on them, then quickly turned his attention back at the balloon to start compressing it again. He really needed a helping hand, but he had proven that one guy was enough to do all of these maneuvers if that singular guy had intensive training and body condition to handle emergencies and manage every little critical detail to save a life; an exhausting job, but Aidan wouldn't like it if it were simple. He waited until he saw the chopper affix to the ground before he'd throw everything back in the kit, swing the kit on his back and push the stretcher towards the Sky Hawk, keeping his head low, his back hunched and his feet jogging at a steady, quick pace; one hand was administrating life into a nearly-defunct body, the other pushed the stretcher and fought against the harsh terrain. He saw Ken coming out the side door to prep something up, probably a stretcher. Ken greeted him and offered to help, Aidan was actually glad the pilot was up to throw an aiding hand; even though he breathed the way he was taught to, he still felt he was tiring after the short, but brutal skirmish of that day.

"Copy that, Kenny. Alright, get ready to move him on the stretcher and ventilate while I strap him!" He announced the pilot through the helmet's headset before he finally arrived at the bird, panting and slightly sweaty. "Good evenin'! He's been relatively stable since I opened his throat, but he's charred all over the place, fabric melted and merged with fur, I filled a shrapnel wound and left the others to the surgeons to take care of. He won't bleed on your baby, but sure as hell he's stinky." Aidan got used to the nasty smell of burnt skin, fat, fabric and plastic combined in a sweet, cadaverous smell that puffed out from under the foil blanket.

"Alright, you grab the legs, I get the torso. Ready? Ok, three, two, one, clear!" Aidan had his arms tucked under the torso of Arcade and as soon as he cleared, he slid him over to the chopper's stretcher with ease, all thanks to the wolf's aid. "Superb. Take over ventilation, I'll strap him, get my stretcher on board and buckle myself up. Compress twice every three seconds at an even interval and all should be fine."

With that, the dog nimbly collapsed the stretcher and slid it in the chopper, then quickly strapped the body nice and snug in the chopper and finally stepped inside, where he placed himself next to Arcade and set down the kit right beside him in preparation for the worse. He tapped the wolf's shoulder to take over ventilation.

"I can't leave him by himself, Kenny. Get us out of here, he'd might just make it. If my GEAR gets wrecked,maybe, MAYBE I'll get a better suited model." The dog rambled, feeling that he finally had control over the situation. "Blade, sir, Arcade's in the Hawk and he's getting off the field, but I need to stay with him. If my GEAR gets thrashed, I'll be sure to file a complaint to the Board, over." But all this joy would come to an abrupt end once the pilot brought the chopper to a safe altitude and begin its emergency flight.

An alarm beeped in the dog's left ear, the small screen on the helmet simply displaying "Chck. Cardio". Aidan pulled the DATMK computer out, which then showed him a morbid image: a green, irregular line that looked nothing like a normal pulse, blood pressure dropped until numbers were replaced with a question mark and a different alert filled the inside of the chopper. Aidan cursed to himself and immediately leaned over Arcade's torso, pulled the foil away and cleared the burnt chest of clothing material; he pulled out the two defibrillation pads and stuck them on their indicated position and without losing precious time, Aidan started with chest compressions, 100/minute, thirty compressions to two ventilations ratio.

"He's crashing" he barely uttered through the commlink "ventricular fibrillation, started CPR, sir."

He kept his cool and his wits close by, having to fight for Arcade's life and the urge to scream with frustration. He knew it was pulmonary embolism, Arcade crashed not long after the chopper took off, but it wasn't the pilot's fault. At this point, the dog considered survival rates to be slim to none, but he clung to them anyway and pressed on; he used his back muscles in order to keep himself from tiring and counted the compressions, one by one. Once he completed a cycle and a robotic voice ordered him to Prepare defibrillation, he twisted a knob on the computer to 200 Joules and punched the charge button with his index knuckle. The same voice confirmed the action by uttering Charging, a green bar popped on the screen to gradually fill up, an accompanying crescendo sound denoting charge level. Once the bar filled, the sound changed to an alerting sound that would have other people involved with CPR clear away from the patient before the Administer shock message came up with the voice reading it out loud. The dog slightly slid away from the dying pilot and pressed the yellow button, the pads immediately contracted and sent a jolt through Arcade's fleshy frame; Aidan waited until the computer checked for any modifications, but just like he feared, he had to continue CPR. This operation was turning into a nightmare, all that he wanted was for Arcade to stand up and offer him and Ken a cup of tea and, as if things weren't bad enough, he found out that the mining camp got trampled with artillery, possibly resulting with more friendly casualties.

What a day.

GEARS - Mecha Sci-fi with Anthro characters. RP in a detailed, story-driven world.

Tomorrow will be the day of my post. No delays.