"... oh sure, YOU can get up and move around when you wish. I, on the other hand, have to stay in bed when I got a scraped knee. You're still under sedation, you goddamned moron!" He followed after her, shaking his head and cursing under his breath.

He didn't like it when he was forced to follow her orders, much less when she refused to listen to his medical advice. He stood next to her, already rolling up his sleeves as Medic got prepped. He had a permanent marker out to mark the foreheads of the patients she was already performing triage on, marking Cs (Critical), Ps (Priority), Ms (Minor), Ss (Serious), and several Ds (Deceased). Ms and Ss tended to be lower on the scale of transportation, mostly waiting until the Ps and Cs were moved off first. The Ds, however, tended to be moved and laid out on open field or road. In this case, they were laid out before the Ruby on the Tarmac, covered in their own service coats.

He blinked, feeling someone crash into him. He usually never took any mind to it, then the words "you're huge" made him look downwards. He stared at the newcomer, blinking slowly as he tried to make sense of her. "... just tall, is all, miss." He blinked slowly, his rifleman blinking at her as well.

Lawrence then noted she didn't have any suitable clothing. "... the devil are you running around like that for? You'll catch a cold if you keep dressing to move around like that." He laughed a bit, raising his eyebrow. "I wouldn't mind buying you a new set of clothing so you don't have to go around practically in the buff."

His rifleman interrupted. "... um, look at her wrists..."

Lawrence didn't notice until now. He saw a broken link at the end of the short chains leading up to her bangles. He was a bit horrified seeing this. "My my, you ARE in deep trouble, miss. Best get you back to the airship before anyone notices you've-"

"THERE SHE IS! DON'T LET HER GET AWAY!"

"-gone..." He looked back at the two slavers from earlier running at full sprint towards them.

"Oooh, um.. Guess they found me again." Sarah said, looking embarrassed. She looked up at the tall guy with a grin. "Yeah, we play a game! They put me in a box, I escape and run around, and then they try to find me! It took them a lot less this time, I guess they're mad... " Sarah started walking over to the men reluctantly, who grabbed her roughly; quickly attaching a neck collar to her, as well as new bangles.

The men looked over to the two. "We apologize for any inconvenience she may have caused, but thank you for detaining her.. We've been looking for this one all day." As they turned to walk away, giving her a rough tug, Sarah turned back and waved goodbye at the very large man and his associate, a small smile on her face.

Seba moved out of the way as Demetrius got the tank out of the storage area. Using hand signals she communicated a radio frequency to him so that they could contact each other during the trip back. Getting back into the jeep and firing it up, they were headed back to Norune.

"Apparently the Sky has been attacked... It's been blown to bits." Seba said into the hand set. "They have a detainee that they believe has something to do with the attack, this should be interesting at best.. How fast can that tank go?"

Lawrence bit his lower lip, running forward. "WAIT! Uh, how much?"

"... what?" One of the slavers looked at him, raising an eyebrow. "You ACTUALLY want to buy her?"

"I'll give you 50,000"

"... SOLD!" The slavers grinned from ear to ear. The rifleman, however, kept his gun gripped tightly, about ready to swing it upwards and start firing.

"Wait..." Lawrence looked at the two of them, then at the new "friend" he had made. "I'll give you an extra 25,000 for anything she had on her when she was caught."

The elder slaver gripped his chest, falling over on his side and twitched. The other one didn't seem to notice. "Deal! We best come to my station so that we can get the paperwork sorted out!"

"I think I realize my restrictions.. If I couldn't do this I'd let you know. You can stop coddling me.." Medic said, her latex-gloved hands already coated with blood from a wounded crew member. She knew that more than anything she needed to rest, but they didn't have the luxury for her to do that, being the head of the medical department. "Though.. thanks for bandaging me up in the first place."

Clearing the patient she was working on for transport to post-op, she started on the next, and the next, and the next, until everyone had been either treated by herself or the other medical crew personnel. It was agonizing, and her head was splitting by the end of it all. Having a nurse go to Lepper to let him know that they had finished, Medic sunk down in a chair, resting her head in her hands, trying to block out some of the light from above.

"Seventy five thousand? They couldn't sell me for two thousa- Ooow!" Sarah said, the chain around her neck being yanked to get her to be quiet.
"Um, right, let's get going!" The slaver said, after poking the second one with is foot. "... Leave him, he'll be fine..."

Getting to their particular station, the tall man noticed it was the same one he had been near earlier that day with the captain. The man wearing the too-small Dessarian uniform was seen again, folding his arms at the return of the girl. "Welcome back.." He said with a small scowl.
"She's been sold!" the man with Sarah said proudly. "You're not gonna guess for how much!"

The paperwork process went rather quickly; the slavers were relieved to not only get rid of her, but receive that much money for one particular person that was causing them so much trouble. Sarah was given her possessions back, and went to go change during the buying process. Coming back and standing next to the tall man, she now had on a black shirt, green pants, and a white scarf. Strapped to her back was her beloved KML21 Bohrium.

Demetrius eyed the hand-signals, before picking up his own radio and after turning on the VOX - or, voice-activated key, Demetrius placed it on the Tank's innards so he could keep control on the steering, the tank's loud interior bleeding over the microphone somewhat.

"The Sky burned down?" Demetrius asked over the radio, raising his voice above the sound of the engine and the noisy running gear, "Sounds like some kind of Apocalypse, blowing the sky to pieces..." he said with a slight laugh. Once the tank was out in the open, he added into the microphone, "Go load the crates of 12.7x99millimetre ammunition into the Jeep for me? And then close up the tunnel. Don't want anyone getting in... And to answer your question, about 34Mph." He replied, before twisting the steering controls around and huffing the three-speed planetary gearbox into first gear, causing either track to turn in opposite directions and the tank to turn on the spot.

one facing the opposite way, Demetrius grinned slightly, and patted the tank's control dashboard. picking up the Microphone, he turned off the Vox and keyed the radio. "When you're ready, give me a shout and I'll pull away. This thing is heavy to drive, so..." He said, before putting down the handset, and turning off the engine.

"Heh.. nearly forgot the ammo there, thanks for the reminder." Spinning a quick U-turn, the distracted Seba headed back to the cave entrance. She hopped out, not bothering to turn the jeep off. With a quick search, she found the ammunition crates, and loaded them. Also grabbing some straps and a tarp, Seba secured the load so it didn't fly off during the transit. Finding the switches that Demetrius had thrown to open the cargo door, Seba threw them and headed out, the door shutting quickly; not giving her much time to duck under it. Hopping back in the jeep, she picked the radio back up. "Okay, the ammo is loaded, let's head out. If yours can only do 34 I'll stay at the same speed; I'd rather stay together."

Getting a tad impatient at the wait for the tank to start up, Seba started driving a few circles around it; waiting to hear the loud rumble of it's engine saying it had come to life.

Te'j spat out a mouthful of dirt as he pulled himself off the ground, then began screaming in a mixture of fright and light pain as he struggled to get out of his somewhat burning coat. He began stomping over the flames as it lay on the ground, and eventually managed to put it out.

"Just my luck!" screamed the cannibal in Kaijean. "My hat, and now this!" Kicking the remnants of the trench coat one more time, he swore vehemently against the fire god of his tribe. Soon he figured that inanimate objects couldn't feel pain, and decided instead to look over at the wreckage of the Sky. His feelings suddenly turned from rage to gratitude in seconds as he watched the flames.

Picking up the coat, he sighed with a little resent. Sure, he was alive, but the coat had become a casualty. The left sleeve was tattered and torn, and a huge hole with burn marks around the edges was in the back. The cannibal wondered whether he could find a coat similar to it for a few moments, but then realized his shopping would have to wait. He ran towards the Sky, leaving the trench in the dust behind him.

"I dunno if I told you, though I think I did, but YOU! ARE! NOT! FIT! FOR! SERVICE!" He shouted each word individually, to get his point across. He frowned some, pulling off his gloves and tossing them into the bio-hazard can. "Look, all doctors have an oath to help anyone and everyone in need, but you need to rest. You're no good to ANYONE dead, Alison." He frowned a bit, still following after her like a shadow, never once letting her leave his sight. "I'm ordering you as a combat medic to get your ass to bed and rest."

He kept bitching at her, only to stop, gritting his teeth. "Damn it, Alison, you're bleeding!" He quickly grabbed her, then sat her down on a cot set up to transport the wounded, marking her with a P. "I'm shipping you to the goddamned hospital. You're no good if you're this badly injured."

"... You did not just put a letter on my forehead..." Medic mumbled, going cross-eyed, futility trying to look up and see what he had done to her face; though the smell of the alcholide residue made it obvious. She looked herself quickly over for the injury, then figured it was probably her head that was making him fuss. Reaching up and touching the bandages, she pulled her fingers away with traces of blood on them, it being fresh.

"Mac... I know there's no talking to you right now, with the mood you're in, but I probably just busted some stitches.. Just look at it okay? Then I'll go rest, or go to the hospital.. I'm too tired to argue. Just, please stop yelling."

Watching Seba ready herself, and soon drive rings around the tank - literally - Demetrius soon powered up the Tank's engine, and started to pull away, grunting as he struggled to operate the clutch, all four tracks starting to roll, carrying the rest of the Tank forwards.

Once second gear was exhausted, Demetrius kicked in the clutch, hefted the vehicle into second gear with a liud grunt, a crunch of gears and a shudder from the tank, before continuing to gain speed towards the massive speed of 34Mph. "This thing is heavy to drive!" Demetrius barked over the handset, though his voice showed he was enjoying the fight against the Tank's controls. "Like driving a bloody Tank!" He added, before laughing.

Soon the smooth hum of the tracks on dirt changed as the tank rolled up onto the road, the Tank's torsion bar suspension making the ride up the bank onto tarmac smoother than on any wheeled vehicle. The tracks no creating a grinding rumble as they ground and ran against the tarmac road, the din within the tank only increased.

Thankfully, through the periscope, the burning Sky and the still living Ruby were in sight and closing in on the two very quickly - or more so vice versa. grabbing the horn, Demetrius soon hit it, the tank's fog-horn-esque cry shouting out through the air, noting the Dessarian's passage towards them. "If I had ammo for the 130mm gun, I could make our presence truly known!" He laughed into the handset.

"... fine, fine, I'll look." He rolled his eyes, putting out the cigarette and reached into his breast pocket. He pulled out his bottle of oxycodone pills, rolling out two and popping them into his mouth. He swallowed them, getting his canteen and gulping down water.

After that was done, he started to undo the bandages on her head, getting a fresh roll of bandages and a bottle of disinfectant. He looked, taking in a breath. "Alright, you got lucky. It's just the stitching." He set down the roll, getting a box of butterfly closures and pulled one out, using it to close up the wound. He disinfected it, soon winding a single band around her head. "That should do it... and what the fuck is that noise?"

After fitting the bandages closed, he headed over to the window, looking out. "... the fuck is a tank doing coming straight for us?" He frowned a bit, looking back at Medic. "Be right back..." He headed to his foot locker in his room, opening it and grabbing his lupara and a few grenades, heading out onto the tarmac.

He stood in front of the airship, looking at the tank, loading up a deer slug into each barrel.

"Sounds fun but I don't think they'd take too kindly to that right now. I'll catch back up to you later, I've got work to do and you still owe me a bottle of vodka, I'm going to need it after this." Clicking the radio off, the jeep skidded to a halt outside the Ruby, its engine clicking off, Seba hopping out. Looking over at the remnants of the Sky, she shook her head slowly; her eyes squinted. Sighing, she looked around for either Lepper or Allestrial; only seeing Mac with his shotgun, which was presumably a welcoming committee for the tank. With a scowl she headed over.

"Mac, good to see someone alive.. Have the injury and fatality reports come in yet? And do you know where Lepper is.." Her voice trailed off as Seba started looking away from Mac, back to the wreckage. It shouldn't have happened in the first place; someone wasn't doing their job guarding the airship, whether it was the crew of the Sky or the Norune tarmac personnel. Heads would roll. "Oh, and Mac.. Next time a tank rolls up, you may want to get something heavier than a shotgun."

With a sigh of relief, Medic got up slowly and went to the sink, washing away whatever of the P was left on her forehead and hadn't been marked on the old bandages. Patting the water off of her face with a towel, she went over to the window. There was indeed a tank sitting there, but it hadn't fired yet, so she really didn't care about it.

Sitting down on an unoccupied cot that was in the corner of the medical bay, Medic laid down and very quickly fell asleep, pulling a blanket over her.

Demetrius sighed as Seba ran off to... Deal with the chaos of someone else's problem, before clambering out of the still running tank. grabbing the crate of bullets, Demetrius hauled them into the tank with him, before once again shutting the hatch and pulling away in the quad-tracked tank, the hulk of armour and guns barely passing the Jeep without a scratch.

Driving up into town, Demetrius had to be careful; the mount of people, cars and sellers filling the streets made almost too easy targets for the tank that had twice the chance of running a person down than a normal, every-day tank - thanks to twice the tracks. he knew where he needed to go - an area of town more crowded then most. Now and then, the tank would bump into a out-jutting cart, ot knock someone to the side accidentally - as if the tank was hard to dodge at 5Mph.

Soon, as the crowds thickened and the tank slowed, Demetrius pulled the tank down a back ally, its edges grinding gently against either side - although the walls came worst off than the tank.

parking up in the courtyard of the cul-de-sac of garages, Demetrius turned off the engines, before clambering out of the tank with the keys.

...-loody think burst into flames like a bonfire!
How many were injured?
No idea. Only I managed to get out though. Doubt he'll say anyth-
Hold on, someone turned up.

Demetrius frowned at the voices behind a mesh-screen door - before the door opened, revealing a strangely scarred man, and the spotlessly-clean Robert.
"Ah! Demetrius! You brought my tank! And the bullets...?"
"In tank." Demetrius replied, before throwing the keys to Robert. Had... Robert been talking about a burning something? And injured people? It wouldn't be a surprise - Robert did that kind of thing for a job; or more, he paid people to do that thing for a living... But, so soon after the Sky?

"What's wrong, Demetrius? Your mind seems to be in the Sky." Robert smiled with a friendly smile, before patting the man on the back. "Relax my Dessarian chum! You shall get your payment. Is there anything I can get you - Cupcake? Glass of water?"

"I fine." Demetrius nodded. "just want to get paid, and go." He added, straight faced, although allowed a smile.

"Ah, the noble business man. I can respect that!" Robert smiled widely. "Sure you're not thirsty though?" he asked, "For a fresh, cool glass, of Aqua, Puracava?" he grinned, holding his cheek close to Demetrius'.

Demetrius twitched, and nodded. "I promise. I'm not... Thirsty."

"Oh, fine, if you insist." Robert smiled, and removed himself from Demetrius' personal space. "Well, I'll go get your payment-!" he began, before someone placed the thick stack of bills into his hand. "Oh, will you look at that!" Robert grinned, holding up the money, before giving a Bless his cotton socks look. "We're not just a business here, Demetrius; we're a Family. if you ever want to join our family, give me a call. Until then, keep well." He smiled, placing the money in Demetrius' hand, before he turned, and walked off back inside, trailed by the two men that had - one after the other - followed him out.

Felix felt lucky the wind was blowing towards him, and not away. An away wind meant he was blind but for what was directly in front of him, but now the wind was against, he could see further than his eyes ever could. His eyes closed, a black sweatband had been placed around his head, covering his eyes. They were useless with this infernal sun hanging in the sky like an ill-bidding angel; all the light burned his eyes - not that he needed them particularly. With the wind travelling towards him, the sound of a roaring fire had been mapped in his mind, followed by the scent of burning gasses, of plastic, heated metal, burning cloth and bodies; the smell of human fear; he could see it in his mind like a human would see a landscape with their eyes, a dynamic picture of bright pastel blues, and ceramic reds, and yellowish-brown smears, and bright white gashes; every colour in the spectrum was painted behind his eyelids of the smells and sounds that came before him.

Felix wasn't running. He hadn't the energy to run; not any-more. Ten inch wrist-blades unsheathed, the glistening blades protruded six inches in front of his knuckles, and all four blades were glistening; dripping with blood - fresh blood, its iron scent still filled his nostrils like an orange-grey smear in front of his vision, flickering and dancing like smoke above a fire. he could still smell the flesh he had cut through, their blood on his blades - the smell fo their fear, their agonised screams, still echoed in his nostrils and in his ears; and still it burned, burned so brightly it was painful! He felt so... Furious! It never went away; Felix was never numb, never for two years; no matter how many he killed, no matter how many screams echoed into the night sky like dying crows under the iron boot of of a murderer; no matter how many seas of blood splashed over his blade; The. Rage. Stayed.

Stumbling as he walked, Felix could feel the blood clotting his fur running down the skin underneath, gently coagulating, thickening in his fur, its smell slowly ageing and fading like the innocence of youth... The youth they had stolen. Among their blood, the blood that coated his black fur so thickly he was more red than black, he could feel - he could smell, his own blood, running from deep gashes in his skin. They stung - of, they stung - but they stung with anger, with hate and rage; he couldn't feel pain, not until he found them again...

The smell of the mud underfoot soon changed to warm tarmac, spraying a pinking-yellow behind his eyes, mixed with the countless colours of burning wood, and plastic, and that ever-sweet smell of human fear... It looked like a ship of some kind was burning; he'd seen them before. Turning blind-eyed to the ship beside him, he took a deep breath in through his nose. As if staring through the sweat-band, he smiled faintly. This one wasn't burning...

Finding the boarding ramp, he swung a blade at an arm that tried to stop him boarding. The stench of fresh blood and a new scream echoed out into the air, covering the cat in but more blood. Felix grinned.

He clambered up the sap-reeking wooden boards without finding the edge with a foot once - walking with the accuracy of walking by eye - before stepping into the ship, blood dripping off the blades and into pubbles, and trails upon the floor. he could smell - see - a medical room. The wall-way around him blurred as smells and wind-patterns changed. Finding the door, be pushed it open with a foot casually and calmly, blood pooling by his feet - from the blood running off his fur to the blood running off his blades; his ears were folded back against his head in a constant rage, and due to his tiredness, his anger and general dehydration, hunger and exhaustion, the feline panted heavily.

He could smell others in the room - he could smell more human blood. He could also smell medicines. Walking over to the cabinet casually, stumbling as he did like a drunk, he placed a blade through the glass with a punch - the glass shattering - before removing the bottle of pills off the end of a blade and, holding it to his nose, sniffed. No, didn't smell like pain killers... Or pep-pills. Pulling them off the blades, he threw it on the floor, before managing to pick another bottle up in a hand, and opening the bottle to sniff - before dropping that to the floor, too. he refused to put the blades away; there probably was more people here, too, that wanted him dead, wanted him captured; and he'd kill them all.

There was noise. Her eyelids twitching, Medic's eyes began to focus and adjust to the light above her. ...Why can't you people just let me sleep.. Hmm? Looking over to her side, there was something going though the medical cabinet. It wasn't human. Her eyes focusing more, she realized it was a Pantheran; it wasn't part of the crew, and her sidearm wasn't on her person.

Sitting up on the cot slowly, Medic cleared her throat to get his attention. "Can I help you?" She spoke calmly, knowing the situation was dangerous.

"No one can help me." Felix replied in perfect Arcand; the speech therapy back at the slaver's site had consisted of beatings every time you spoke incorrectly. You soon learned to speak correctly. "But, if you really wanted to help me; you could find me a painkiller suitable for my ingestion. Only, my wounds throb, and I fear I cannot carry onwards until said wounds are made to silence."

His accent, however, was less an accent, then simply the fact that he didn't have an accent. Every word was spoken without dialect - as each word should sound. Pantherans never picked up an accent because - after all - they spoke in yaps and signs. Why would they need an accent?

Stumbling again, Felix grabbed the medicine cabinet - which sustained his weight, which was hardly anything - before pulling himself back up straight. "Also, something to eat, and drink, would be helpful... Preferably something made out of meat, and something made out of water; and preferably free of tranquillizers. Nutrients, would be nice. I haven't eaten for days so you can imagine how thirsty I am."

Felix was looking directly at her. he wasn't gazing at her with his eyes, or facing her way; his nose pointed to the medicine cabinet and the bottles within, but both his ears were twisted to face her, to pick up every sound she made; every sound of hers mapping out like shaped ripples in an engraved-in-grey style behind his eyelids.

"Yes well.. On the table then. I'll get some things set up, assuming you haven't destroyed them in your search process." Medic said as she got up, walking over. She motioned over to the exam table, figuring that he would be able to 'hear' where she pointed. She knew how to treat Pantherans, as well as how their systems worked.

Finding a plasma drip and some iodine, she walked over to him slowly after washing her hands and putting on a fresh pair of gloves. "I'm cleaning off a small area and inserting a plasma drip. From there I'll begin healing your other wounds. Is that alright?"

Felix listened to her carefully, before hearing the movement of air as her arm moved. Turning to eye her arm, he nodded faintly and walked, head angled to 'look' at the floor slightly, over to the exam table.

After feeling over its surface and realising there was no medicine upon it, he rethought her words, before hopping up to sit upon the table, tail swaying back and forth gently.
"...Plasma, drip?" He asked. It didn't sound too menacing... He nodded faintly in reply, and held out an arm towards her. "Just... Don't try and sedate me." He said, looking at her with his ears again, "I can't sleep. Not yet. The... The day, is still too young, to fall asleep."

Medic shook her head. "I'm not going to sedate you. This will help with the amount of blood you've lost; what's more, I know for a fact we don't have any Panteran blood on board. Plasma's universal. Quick pinch." Using the iodine to sterilize a spot on his arm, Medic inserted the needle into a vein after quickly locating a large enough one. Instead of using gauze and tape to hold the needle in place, she used gauze and a bit of cloth bandage rolled around his arm, which was then held together by tape. Medic figured that would be more appreciated than having to rip part of his fur off when it came time for the needle to come out.

Turning away from him after making sure the drip was working properly, she went over to a different cabinet and got more iodine, some bandages, and stitching material. Coming back, she began the process of what she had been doing all day.

Felix gave a wince as the needle was pushed into a vain, and soon after, used the half-inch high handles to reign the wrist-blades back in to their retracted positions, the tabs to eject the blades once again tautening. Said tabs rested by the bottoms of his palms, and once pulled on, would eject the blades.

Soon leaning back on his hands, Felix winced slightly as his various gashes were stitched up, unable to actually sense the needle she was using, and only smell the iodine on the thread and on the skin before being stitched.
"What happened to the ship?" He asked after a short while. "Its burning pretty heavily... I could see- Smell, it from where I was. It wasn't without its casualties, I presume." He added, his ears twisting back to face her, his tail flicking back and forth behind him gently.

"He's gonna face off against a tank with whatever the fuck he damn well wishes since he's actually doing his job!" Lep walked out from the other side of the tarmac, covered in soot and ash, dusting himself off. He had gotten runners in and out telling him what was going on, about the man being captured, as well as the status about the medical crew. He looked up, hearing a yelp. "Goddamn it. You two! Get the FUCK into that airship and find whatever did THAT to him!"

He looked back at the commissar, frowning a bit. "And WHERE, pray tell, were you all this time!? Oh, don't mind us, we've been putting out a GODDAMNED FIRE!"