Posted By: SeverianofUrth<email@example.com>
Date: 18 June 2004, 9:55 PM
"This is rather touch and go, but-" Spoke was interrupted by a fresh bout of screaming, as the man, his stomach ripped open by a passing slug, spasmed violently. He desperately tried to keep the man down on the ground, but failing to do so he pulled out a syringe of ultramorph, and plunged it into the man's arm. The man subsided almost immediately; Spoke sighed with relief, and tore open a new medpack and applied it to the wound.
"This might sound rather stupid, but that was rather touch and go, sir." Eliza said. The nurse, applying some salve to a burn wound, sat up, and checked the medical supplies. "And, doctor, we're running out of supplies, it seems."
"Can't help it. Soon we're going to have to start letting the really-serious ones die." He spoke softly, so that the soldiers couldn't hear. "And some here will die, I think, no matter what we do."
"I... have to agree, doctor." Eliza shook her head as if in resignation, and walked off to greet the fresh batch of the wounded, gathering a few aides on the way. Spoke didn't watch her go; he was too busy slapping some med-patches on another infirm.
Eliza helped the soldiers unload another man with no legs. He groaned most pitiouesly when she dropped him, right on the freshly bleeding stump.
"Medic!" Jonesy yelled, as he pulled Paul behind the pile of rubble. "Medic!" Practicing the hastily-trained method of helping a wounded fellow on the field, Jonesy attempted the Einreich Manuever- to the screams of Paul, who between incoherent babbles of curses and pleas was heard to be saying,
"Let me go asshole!"
A medic scurried over just in time, burdened with packs of medpacks slung over his shoulders and overflowing on his arms. He pulled the well-meaning Jonesy off the suffering man, and again tearing off the covers he applied a medpack properlyto the wound. Then, pulling out a injector of painkillers, he shot it right on Paul's neck, causing him to sigh with relief, before he fell back, blessfully asleep. Not noticing Jonesy, he ran off, to another cries of "medic!"
"I was a good man, doc, you gotta believe me, oh god I was a good man a good man doc put in a goodfuckingwordohgogogogogod" Again, like as before Spokes dosed another man with some ultramorph. He was running low. And with deft, practiced motions he slapped some medpacks on the man.
This was becoming a ritual now; painkillers first, medpack next, then say your prayers, take a energy pill, then move on to the continually increasing stream of the wounded. There was no longer any attempt at civility or compassion and empathy from the doctors and the nurses; they worked like machines, and the wounded seemed to be flowing like parts on a conveyor belt, coming and coming and coming-
"My two hundredth one, doctor." Eliza said tiredly, brushing some hair out of her eyes. Spokes nodded absentmindedly.
"Getting tired... Energy pill?" He offered her one. She took it gratefully, popping three into her mouth.
"The battle doesn't seem to be going too great, doesn't it?" Eliza said.
"I don't think so. The retrieval rate of the wounded on field is around 35% right now... Think of how many might be dying, defending this city."
"Untreated on the field..."
Jonesy bent down as a piece of the rubble flew past his head. He looked around; three men, with him, Paul (who was still in la-la land)and a big, swarthy man in plainclothes defended what was left of the gunplatform.
Grunts began pouring out of the adjacent building, spurred on by the Elites, who lopped off heads with plasma blades to reinforce order. Croaking harshly with laughter filled with contempt, the Elites herded the Grunts into the range of the Human machine guns, where they died like pigs. And over the bodies of the slaughtered the Elites came, brandishing ethreal plasma blades as they ran.
Jonesy saw this all with a binocular.
The guns spat fire on to the Elites, but they bounced off the shieldings, and soon the Elites began jumping on to the guns, slicing the guns and men alike. Heads rolled.
Jonesy started yelling. "Medic, Medic!"
"Ouch." Spokes said, peeling off a woman's shirt, looking at the gaping red hole, partially cauterized by the burning plasma.
"DO SOMETHING ABOUT IT, PLEASE! OH GOD IT HURTS-"
"Now now, don't be so hasty..." Spokes looted around for some morphine. There was none.
The woman resumed screaming.