"I think I've got another one on my tail!"

"Drop beneath the cloud level, 2, I'll be able to help out."

"Understood, Fy. I hope you know what you're doing."

"So do I. At least you've got a higher chance down here, as the rest of us took care of our assigned targets before they could get off of the ground."

"I'm new at this, okay?"

"He's using an old fighter, for kriff's sake. Take him down and get back here."

"Do you want me to admit it? Alright, I put more on the craft than my skill."

"It's the pilot, but get down here and we can work it out."

Fyston saw the familiar angular shape of a TIE Interceptor break through the thick cloud cover that hovered like an omnipresent being above them. It had been raining for the first few minutes of the operation, during the time when Nightshrike was softening up the resistance before the Stormtroopers were sent in. Fyston saw a flash out of the corner of his eye. A small sprinkle of debris shot off of Alpha 2's fighter and flames shot out of the back.

"Kriff me. Guys, I'm breaking off to help 2 before he gets himself killed."

"Now you realize my plight?"

"I forgot to push the small button that said 'care' on it. Sorry."

"Very funny."

"Alright, slow down and, once below me, pull into an Immelman and I'll get him for you."

"Okay. Pulling back on the speed a bit."

"Slow down! You'll overshoot!"

"I don't want to lose too much speed, I'll be going straight up."

"Slow it down a bit."

"Argh! Help!"

Fyston shoved his control stick towards his feet and could almost feel the wind rush past him as the flaming fighter shot mere meters over his cockpit. He felt a number of shots impact his rear shields and dropped his speed to allow the older fighter to overshoot him. The enemy pilot dropped his speed as well, but the older craft wasn't able to manipulate its speed like the nimble Interceptor. He squeezed the trigger as soon as his crosshairs centered over the enemy fighter, causing the rear shields to crackle and fail. Fyston kept up his fire and watched as a bolt hit the engines, causing a fiery explosion to unfold like fireworks before him.

"I can't regain control! I ca- AHH!"

Fyston had shot into a dive and saw a fighter that he knew like the back of his hand shoot into the ground and slam to a halt. Fires licked the fuselage and Fyston noticed figures in white moving towards the craft. He opened a comm line to the squad leader that was known to be in that area.

"Sergeant, can you inform me as to what's going on down there?"

"Your pilot's alive but severely injured. You're in luck. We captured a medical facility but the bastards took everything but the nurse droids. We've got a speeder taking him there. Do any of you flyboys know medicine? Our medic's with him now but he doesn't really have the knowledge to keep him alive long enough to get him back to the Halcyon Warrior."

Fyston thought it over, weighing the odds and deciding that if nobody else could do it, he could at least try.

"I'll do it. I'll be down there shortly."

Fyston flew over to the medical facility that the squad leader mentioned and looked around for a space to land his fighter. There wasn't a nearby landing pad that wouldn't cause a 5-10 minute run for the Zabrak, and he doubted the availability of another speeder solely for his transportation. Sighing with resignation, he activated the repulsorlifts and took the craft close to the level roof of the building. He went through his normal checklist and set the craft down lightly upon the roof and waited for signs of weakness in the structure. Upon feeling none, he popped the cockpit and clambered out. He rushed over to the side of the building and glanced down. It was easily a fifteen foot drop and the Iridonian sighed.

Well, so far today's sucked.

He made a silent prayer to the galaxy and leapt. He tucked his knees in and rolled with the impact. His tookit pressed against his back as he rolled, causing him to wince with the sudden pain. He walked into the medbay and ran to the closest room, where a white-clad stormtrooper and three nurse droids stood over the pilot. From what he could tell, the stormtrooper was administering CPR while the nurse droids placed pressure on the wounds that were bleeding rather than scorched.

"Alright, how's he doing?"

"According to our knowledge, this man went into cardiac arrest. Attempts have been made to stabilize him but it is >76% probability that he will die."

Fyston glanced over at the supplies. Although they had taken the advanced droids, they left most of the medical equipment. Fyston rolled over the AED and glanced down at the patient's chest. Surprisingly, it was bare. Fyston realized that the nurse droids must have sliced his flight suit off before he had arrived. He grabbed the individual leads from the AED and remembered back to his recent classes on advanced combat first aid.


"Remember. CPR needs to be started on an asystole patient, along with stimulants. Otherwise, the AEDs will have no impact and the patient will have little chance of survival. It is important to realize that, after only a few minutes, irreversible brain and tissue damage will begin to occur if the heart fails. Therefore, it is important that first responders start CPR immediately. You, in all likelihood, will probably arrive after the first responders. You must pick up where they left off or work around them as you set up the AED.

"If you need only a four lead placement, many remember it like this: 'White to right, smoke over fire.' This is to remind them that the red, which is just above the pelvis and outside of the nipple line is under black, which is to the left of white. Green is directly across from red. Most of the time, the uppermost part of the arm is the best choice for the white and black leads. Keep in mind the AEDs that you may encounter may be the simpler, civilian kind. They are designed for ease of use and, as such, we will not be going of them.

"The ten lead alternative is on your datapads and you should know this by memory."

"I'll use a 10 lead and, once the last leads are in place, I'll need everyone to back up."

"Are you sure that you are certified for this task, pilot?"

"I have nothing against droids, but I'll deactivate you if you criticize me again. He's a patient but he's also a friend."

Fyston quickly placed the first four leads and closed his eyes briefly to remember the exact placement.

V1 goes in the 4th intercostal space, just to the right of the sternum. V2 goes opposite V1. V3 is placed on the mid clavicular line & 5th intercostal space. V6 is on the mid axillary line, horizontal with V4. V5 is positioned between V6 & V4. V3 goes between V4 & V2, if I remember correctly.

Fyston placed the small electrodes on his patient's chest, pausing briefly to double-check his placement from memory. The Zabrak pushed a few buttons on the AED, which promptly advised a shock. He tapped the stormtrooper on the shoulder, who nodded and began tapering off his CPR.

"Everyone clear!"

"Clear, flyboy."

Fyston glanced around and activated the AED, causing a jolt from the man on the table. The AED took a number of seconds to analyze the effect of the shock and proclaimed that another shock was not necessary. Fyston analyzed the EKG and, satisfied that Alpha 2's heart had returned to a life-sustaining capability, detached the leads and kicked the AED away.

"Stormie, I'd like to know your rank so I can stop calling you 'stormie.'"

"I'm a corporal, flyboy. And yourself?"

"I'm a Petty Officer. Anyway, corporal, can you go get me a med-scanner and try to find some supplies?"

"Yes, sir. I'll scavenge the place and bring it back to you on the nearby hovergurney."

Fyston glanced down at his patient and was surprised that he didn't notice the extensive wounds earlier. He had shards of debris embedded in his flesh and he had major burns. Fyston heard a scream but realized that the same scream had been enveloping the room since the AED worked.

"Hey, you're going to be fine. Plee, look at me."

The newest transfer to Nightshrike was the replacement for Alpha 2, who was lost in the battle for the Belegaroth shipyards. His name was Plee Zha and was a muscular human that stood at six foot even. His face was saved most of the injuries due to the harder material of his helmet. Fyston could see the agony on his face and the terror in his eyes.

"Fy! Fy, help me! You have to do something!"

"I'm trying, Plee. You've gotta hang on, alright? I'm going to give you something for pain and am going to control your bleeding. Before I do, though, can you tell me where you're at?"

"Didn't the ship get attacked?"

Fyston looked up to avoid looking at Plee's horrified face any longer. Not only was the recent addition wounded, probably mortally, the look of pain on his youthful face and the pleading that the man did was enough to make Fyston's stomach waver. He knew that there was probably a concussion to contend with but was torn between being glad that his friend wasn't fully aware and sad of the levels of pain that flashed through his face. He leaned back towards his friend.

"Alright, I just injected something for pain. You'll be feeling it soon."

Plee nodded and Fyston imagined that Plee was two men in a single body. From the neck up, he was a normal human with nothing wrong with him. From the neck down, however, he was severely wounded and scorched. The Iridonian saw a flash out of the corner of his eye and caught a small device out of the air. Looking down at it, he noticed that it was the scanner that he requested.

"I found it and knew that you needed it. I also found a FastFlesh medpac and this ECM-598 backpack. I took out the stretcher and packed it with more stuff."

"Alright. Nurse, scan his cranium and ascertain the condition of injury to that area."

"Yes, sir."

The nurse retrieved the scanner from Fyston and went to work at scanning Plee's head. Fyston motioned to the FastFlesh medpac that the corporal held in his right hand.

"I'm going to pull out these shards and disinfect the wound. I want you to go behind me and spray that on there. I'll deal with his brain once I can get this bleeding under control. The nurses are currently holding pressure around the shards but if you notice spots where there's nothing in the injury, spray the synthflesh on there."

"Understood, can I start on the burns?"

"Yes, good idea. Get the major ones first."

Fyston turned and grabbed a laser scalpel from a set of tools that a nurse droid had assembled prior to being assigned a task. He made small, precise cuts around the shrapnel to loosen them from the flesh. He went from piece to piece, loosening the debris from the surrounding tissues and readying them for extraction. After he had gotten many of the larger pieces, the ones that were causing the most damage, separated and able to be easily retrieved, Fyston set down the laser scalpel and picked up a healy gripper.


"This piece of equipment is designed to remove shrapnel from the tissues and is usually used during surgery. Most people avoid damage to the surrounding tissue by cutting away small amounts of the tissue surrounding the penetrating shrapnel. It also makes it much easier for extraction."

Fyston managed to remove many of the larger pieces without much trouble. He used a hyposponge to clean away the blood and injected bacta directly to the tissues before moving on to the next site. After a few minutes, the nurse walked over to him.

"Sir, repeated scans show severe trauma."

"Hmm, he seems out of it. There's no outside signs to show any damage to his skull. Check for pressure and see if it's outside of normal ranges. After we get the bleeding under control, I'll cover him with a blanket and get him up to the Halcyon Warrior."

"Petty Officer, I've just called for a shuttle. They'll be here shortly. Bleeding's under control and his burns can't be treated well here."

"Thanks, corporal, we'll keep an eye on this pressure."

"Readings show rising intracranial pressure, sir."

"Without a shunt, we'll have to remedy the situation another way. We don't have any special supplies for this so let's administer oxygen and raise the head of the bed to try to get blood to flow back to the core. I remember the instructor explaining a risky procedure that can be used as a last resort. He mentioned holes in the skull, but I can't remember it. I won't be doing it, but hopefully they've sent down someone who can."

Fyston watched as the nurse took his directions into account and raised the scanner back up to Plee's head. Fyston heard the tell-tale sounds of a shuttle overhead and sighed with relief. He didn't realize that he'd been sweating but now felt that he had sweat through the clothes he wore underneath his flight suit. His flight suit was covered with blood, as were his boots. Scorched skin had peeled off from the fat underneath and onto his gloves and flight suit. His face was extremly grimy and bloody as compared to the wounded man in front of him, who still held the cleanest face in the room. The Zabrak wanted to wipe his face off but the lack of clean materials in the room, as well as his disgusting uniform and gloves, forced him to consciencely stop himself from wiping his face.

"We received word of a wounded pilot? We brought a medical team on board the shuttle."

"Yeah, Alpha 2 of Nightshrike squadron."

"Were you the primary caregiver?"

"Yes, but the corporal here kept him alive so that I could get here."

"Well, we need you to come with us."

"Understood."

Fyston, along with the corporal, moved the hovergurney out to a waiting speeder, which was ready to transport them to the shuttle. A stormtrooper was piloting it but the rest of the space was filled with medical personnel. They made room on the speeder for the hovergurney and Fyston clambered into the speeder. Zipping through the streets, Fyston decided to brief them to avoid forgetting details.

"He went down and the stormies got him out and into that facility. They'd taken the advanced equipment, so I worked with what I had. When I arrived, the corporal was administering CPR and the droids were holding pressure on the extensive wounds. I used the defibrillator and got a pulse and began removing the shrapnel that was embedded in his skin. I cut around it with a laser scalpel and directly administered bacta to cut down on bleeding and speed up healing. The corporal, utilizing a FlashFlesh medpac, sprayed synthflesh on the areas where there was no debris and some of the larger burns.

"We had gotten many of the wounds secured when the medscanner pointed out head trauma. I wanted a specific scan for pressure and the scan revealed rising pressure. I had them lift the head of the gurney and administer oxygen but I don't know if it's worked. I'm glad you guys arrived when you did. I don't know how long I could have lasted without relief."

By the time he was finished, they had arrived at the shuttle and were securing the patient. He walked up the ramp, sat down in one of the chairs, and collapsed from exhaustion and stress.

OOC:

WC = 2707 on this one. I appreciate the help from Drac for the overall idea. I'm exhausted and, rather than digging through notes and memories, used google for research purposes. I promise a post on the Belegaroth story tomorrow. If I messed up anywhere, let me know. I may make minor edits tomorrow, but it depends.