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  • Patient Patient
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  • MAY 29 2011 Image:Doac jpg.JPG Ratchet growls at the report coming in over the radio. No, he wasn't about to go off shift -- really! He hustles out supplies and equipment for a trauma case and lights the lamps. Pit-slagging glitches can't go for one fonging orn without getting themselves slagged... First Aid appears in the med bay shortly after the alert comes over the radio, rubbing his optics under his visor, the alert having woken him from his recharge shift. "Someone's hurt?" He asks as he walks in at a fast pace, ready to help. Hammerstrike goes quiet again.
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  • MAY 29 2011 Image:Doac jpg.JPG Ratchet growls at the report coming in over the radio. No, he wasn't about to go off shift -- really! He hustles out supplies and equipment for a trauma case and lights the lamps. Pit-slagging glitches can't go for one fonging orn without getting themselves slagged... First Aid appears in the med bay shortly after the alert comes over the radio, rubbing his optics under his visor, the alert having woken him from his recharge shift. "Someone's hurt?" He asks as he walks in at a fast pace, ready to help. A little earlier than the estimated time given by Hammerstrike arrives that very mech. He enters into the repair department, each hand holding a deep wound to keep various vital liquids from draining out. Although he is walking, well, stumbling, the mech has taken a thorough beating. To be quite detailed in the amount of damage, there is a deep stab wound in his right flank, a cut across his left forearm, spatterings of precise holes from lasers all over his body, deep slash wounds all over his torso, shrapnel embedded along his backside, a spray of bullet wounds, and a few more dings, scratches, and dents. Ratchet swears at the sight, then waves First Aid off to get transfusion kits ready for Hammerstrike while he tries to ease the mech onto an operating berth. He's not at all pleased to see the damage splayed across the mech's back, and he ends up trying to get the warrior to lie on his left flank, because that appears to have sustained the least amount of damage... or, at least, little enough to allow bearing his weight. First Aid heads for the supply cabinet for the transfusion kits as quickly as he can, pulling bags of replacement energon and coolant from the cabinet along with the tubing and connectors needed, kicking the cabinet closed with one foot- his arms are full- and returning to set the supplied down on the empty berth next to Hammerstrike before beginning to set them up to attach to Hammerstrike's system. Hammerstrike is exceedingly compliant to Ratchet's commands. It doesn't take long for the large mech to be lying still on his left side upon the operating berth. "Just hang them for now," Ratchet orders. "Won't do any good if he's still bleeding out." He looks at Hammerstrike for a long moment. "We'll need every clamp you can find," he says as he starts to remove armor from Hammerstrike's torso. First Aid nods, turning to remove the tray of clamps already in the berth side stand, setting it by Ratchet's hand, in easy reach on the top of the berth, and returns to the cabinet to grab another tray full of clamps in various sizes. With a glance back at Hammerstrike, he also adds splice kits for both energon and coolant lines and replacement line as well, suspecting that patching and repairing the leaks will be Ratchet's priority. Returning to the berth, he sets down the additional materials and asks "What do you want me to work on, Ratchet?" Hammerstrike winces mildly as his armor is removed, but one can tell he is using a large amount of restraint to remain absolutely still. The large mech remains quiet and fixes his stare upon the wall opposing him. Ratchet turns to look at First Aid from where he's carefully moving wiring and components aside to clamp broken energon lines in Hammerstrike's torso. "Anywhere you see a bleed, clamp it," he says, tipping his head toward the stash of clamps next to the berth. "Then we get to seal everything. And then," he says, looking at Hammerstrike's expression and huffing a sigh out of his vents, "we weld." "Right," First Aid picks up the second tray of clamps and sets it on the berth near Hammerstrike's hip, stepping around Ratchet to focus on a different area of Hammerstrike's torso so that they don't get in each other's way while working. He uses a cleaning rag from his subspace to wipe leaked fluids off of Hammerstrike's internals before beginning to clamp the leaking surface lines. Hammerstrike's expression fades to one of neutrality as the initial shock fades, and there is something very docile, even somnolent about the mech's countenance.... other than the occasional gripping and relaxing of his fist as both medics work on him. Ratchet gently takes Hammerstrike's left forearm in his hand as he extends it for treatment. He removes the armor vambrace and clamps shut the bleeding ends of the energon lines, muttering curses under the rev and hum of his own engines. "All right. All of these bleeds? If the line's a clean cut, seal it. If it's shredded, clamp further up the line, evacuate any energon downstream of the clamp, and cut out the empty hose to splice on a whole segment." In this case, Ratchet starts on the cut with a small torch to weld the tubing back together. First Aid says "Alright," without looking up, continuing to work on the split and torn lines in Hammerstrike's abdomen, wiping away as much of the leaked fluid before pulling a tool from subspace to seal the end of a coolant line that's totally severed. Upon an arm being taken to be worked on, Hammerstrike lets it go limp in Ratchet's care. His other arm, however, he balls a fist and keeps it tense, his optics narrowing, an a grunt escaping from him; the first plaintive sound he'd made since entering the repair bay. Ratchet's own optics narrow and he reaches below Hammerstrike's occiput to pull out a few sensorimotor cables running from the large mech's body. He then finishes welding the line in Hammerstrike's arm and moves on to removing shrapnel from the armor in the warrior's back. Most of the obvious leaking lines in the mech's torso have been clamped or sealed, and now First Aid is looking deeper into his internals to find lines in the secondary and tertiary layers that need repair. He uses a small syringe to evacuate energon from the downward end of a severed line before clamping off the top and attaching another clamp to the empty lower half to hook it to the top half so that it doesn't snake away when he lets go of it. Hammerstrike goes quiet again. "Good thing your armor back here is as thick as it is," Ratchet says with a grunt as he pulls another hunk of debris from Hammerstrike's plating. "A lot of these ended up being deep dents, although you've got a few bleeders," he notes while he dabs at some running energon. "And several of those are sealing off fairly quickly. Strong self-repair by now, Hammer." He keeps removing shards in preparation for removal of the armor plate for examination of the substructure. "I think I've got all these lines clamped, Ratchet," Aid says. "Should I hook up the transfusions now?" Hammerstrike remains quiet even for a while after Ratchet had made some direct comments to him. After a moment his baritone could be heard, softly saying, "It is... an advantage." Ratchet peers into the hoses that were nicked by the shrapnel shower over Hammerstrike's back, and he clamps and welds a few broken lines. "I'd say he's just about ready, yes," the CMO tells First Aid as he lays out the armor plates that have been removed to this point. This mech's going to need considerably more than a buff-out for a lot of this, he realizes. First Aid spots a line he missed and quickly re-checks his work, welding the missed line and touching up one or two others, just to be safe, before stepping to the head of the berth to grab the tubing on the transfusion bags. "Clavicular ports?" He asks, waiting for Ratchet's approval before proceeding. Hammerstrike resumes his characteristic silence, other than the occasional grunt of discomfort. Ratchet nods affirmatively to First Aid. He carefully moves aside some cabling wrapped over the ports to provide easier access. First Aid uses the cleaning rag to wipe spilled fluids off Hammerstrike’s clavicular ports and carefully plugs the energon and coolant lines in, starting the transfusion after making sure the connections are seated properly. Ratchet turns off the surgical lamps so Hammerstrike can rest while his system reassimilates the fluids that are being put into his lines. He regards the brutalized armor with an irritated rev. "Why can't they just... gah!" he says, taking the back piece to the buffer to start removing the paint. Hammerstrike remains silent despite Ratchet's exasperated comment. First Aid pats Hammerstrike comfortingly on the arm and begins putting away the left over clamps and splice kits.