He was the biggest thing she had ever seen walk on two legs, and to her that was saying something. Just like most habitable planets on the outer rim, Oweaca was known for its long days and hard earth. To be strong here was more of a prerequisite than a privilege, and as such its inhabitants where often as big and burly as they come. Not like her however, and nothing like the beast before her. His chest was massive, his arms thick like the trunks of trees she had heard about from off world. At least seven feet tall, his sheer mass left a long dark shadow beneath him. So to see him so bloodied that she could no longer tell what was the original color of his ARC armor surely gave her reason for concern.
She hesitated for just a moment, seeing this hulking thing leaning against her doorway. He looked at her with sunken, barely open eyes. Blood was pooling where he stood, and as he tried to take a step forward his legs finally gave out beneath him. With a loud thud he fell face first to the floor, blacking out before his body made impact.
-
Oza’s hands worked frantically on the Homolid, him having been moved to a medical table with the help of a drone. She was surprised to see a super soldier as she was to be able to recognize his disctintly hyena features, or what was left of them anyways. He was brutalized, his body broken in ways she had not even diagnosed yet. Most of his ribs where broken, a few of them shattered, all of them causing internal bleeding. He barely had enough blood to be able to pump his heart at all, what little she could give him unable to makeup for what was still being lost. He had hobbled here on a broken femur, the thick bone cleanly snapped at an angle that would be hard to operate on. She still didn’t know how many organs would be salvageable, and she prayed her bio printer had enough material left to make the ones she couldn’t save. Many would consider the fact that he was still breathing a miracle, but she knew better. This was a Homolid, a bio engineered super soldier. His body was designed to endure punishment greater than any natural born creature could hope to endure, and then heal itself to be fit for active duty. For all intends and purposes, his body likely brought him here on autopilot. Even now as his raspy breaths and contorted face told of great pain and anguish, his body was hard at work. Vessels clotted at a rapid pace while blood pressure was lowered on the extremities to focus more circulation on his heart and brain. So advanced was his body’s ability to heal that noncritical injuries like broken fingers and dislocated shoulders where literally pulling themselves back together by the force of his torn muscles, much to his obvious discomfort. He wasn’t conscious, but he was in pain.
“What a day to run out of morphine,” thought Oza.
She worked on him until she forgot how long ago she had started, barely taking time to drink or eat. Three hours turned into six, she was halfway through another surgery. Six hours turned into twelve, she set another bone. Twenty hours later she was done. The heyna on her table could hardly be seen under his bandages, his body practically being held together by her stitches. Still, he was alive, and on the edge of her exhausted mind she felt a great amount of pride. Sure, she was only able to save him because of his incredible body, but what she did still took extraordinary skill. “Not bad for a vet,” she thought, nearly collapsing in a chair next to the table. Her conscious mind quickly fading from her, she still took the time to reach over and grab the dogtag she had set aside when she had started. The irony didn’t escape her, and she smiled as she was barely able to read his name falling into a deep sleep.
“Caspel” it said.