Jul 8, 2014
I write stuff.
A-R vomited to the side of his bed. His injuries from the previous battle were almost fatal. Ribs, broken. Jaw, fractured. He was definitely concussed, that explained his dizziness and his vomiting. “How long?” A-R asked the Med-units that brought him back to the ship. They offered him no reply, they were busy stitching his shoulder back together; he had taken a 20mm round during a routine tactical genocide. “How long!” A-R yelled, shoving one of Med-units to the side; he tore his stitches. “The pain medication will kick in shortly, try to relax” The Med-unit was a little shaken by A-R’s violent nature. One of the Med-units trapped a nerve by mistake. A-R, using his powers, blasted the unit into the bay door.
