"Wonderful." Silas gestures the young woman to the operating table. She hops up without a word, undoing her jumpsuit quietly to reveal her thin arms and figure. "So, did you know that you weigh less than most women of your age, despite your musculature? If I wasn't looking at you, I would say that your height to weight ratio is incredibly unhealthy, but you currently show no signs of starvation."
He washes his hands in steaming hot water, slowly applying some surgical garb. He approaches the young woman, picking up the uncovered syringe as he does so. With a slow draw, he puts less than a quarter of the liquid into her arm. With a scribbled note, he picks up the scalpel. He shakes her, gently, then roughly, satisfied with the lack of response, noting that down as well. With smooth, careful movements, he ties a tube around her arm after checking her pulse. He takes a sealed package from somewhere beside him, cuts it open, and then slices a sharp gash across her arm. Blood still trickles out on to the operating table, but he's quick, pulling the stainless steel fin-shaped object from the package and neatly pressing it into the incision.
With deft hands and nimble fingers, he stitches the wound shut and applies a dressing to it, threading through spokes on the object.
He observes his work before carefully removing his gloves. "Some help, please, either of you. I need her out of the way."
You rise, taking hold of her legs and settling her limp, unresponsive form on a nearby bed. He gently covers all but her arm with a blanket and then turns, cleaning off the operating table with a foul-smelling chemical, washing away the faint traces of blood. Then he undresses his surgical garb, throwing his dirty clothes into a trash bag nearby.
"You next, Lady Alphira. Hop up."
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Topic: McCreary's Planet -- (FINISHED) (Read 240410 times)