Purvo, Capellan Confederation
July 3rd, 3052 03:52
The security detail that had been on duty in the early hours of the morning were thankfully swift when Zvolimir Grebenschchikov's pained screams began to echo through the halls of the barracks. Upon entering the Zhong-Shao's quarters, The detail found the large man writhing on his bed, his matte black, robotic hand moved in violent, uncontrolled spasms. There was screaming and awful scraping noises that came from the robotics that made up the man's right arm and side after the carnage he had endured during the Fourth Succession War.
"Get someone from the medical staff!" One member of the detail shouted at his teammate nearest to the door, "And get Jochi!"
A security teammate, a slight, dark-haired woman in green coveralls yelled back in the affirmative before taking off down the corridor in a dead sprint. The other members of the detail worked at the nearly impossible task of keeping the man from thrashing too much, and injuring himself further. It took the remaining three members of the detail all of their combined weight to immobilize Zvolimir's mechanical half while they waited.
When the Doc finally came barreling into Grebenschchikov's quarters, it was all the burly Scot could do to sedate the Zhong-Shao. After filling the man with enough sedatives to stop a charging bull, the servos of his arm and back still continued to whir and buzz, making the robotic prosthetics continue to flail wildly.
The Doc sighed in relief as Jochi Kondur, the Gatekeepers' Lead Technician entered the quarters. The entire room was given a start when Zvolimir's matte black arm flailed out, catching another member of the detail under the chin and sending him careening across the room.
"Watch out for that," Jochi said, nonplussed to the man, who now lay groaning on the other side of the room, "He has a helluva right uppercut."
Moving to get a closer look at the malfunctioning cybernetics, Jochi was a bit more methodical in avoiding the troublesome limb, as he rolled the large man to his left side to get a closer look at the actuator in the base of Blackhand's cybernetic spine.
"Ai ya!" Jochi exclaimed as he stared at the decades-old cybernetics, "I keep telling him to get these rusty old parts--" he stopped his thought to deftly avoid the wild swings of the black hand before resuming the monologue. "--replaced."
"Can't you unplug the arm?" The Doc asked, a little confused by parts lacking in flesh and blood and bone.
"It doesn't work that way," Jochi started, quickly moving from the black hand's chaotic path, "You see, there was a massive amount of organ and tissue damage in the accident that earned him that prosthetic. Without it, he would likely enter renal failure within a couple minutes. Just so we can get him somewhere that is better prepared.. ." Jochi looked closer at Zvolimir's mechanical underarm. Producing a small screwdriver from his pocket, he was able to nimbly sever the correct wire leading to the actuator in Zvolimir's right shoulder when it had become raised just so.
The medical staff and security detail that had amassed since the beginning of the ordeal all sighed in relief as the hefty black hand fell limp, and clattered down beside him.
"We'd better get him somewhere," The Gatekeepers' tech said, matter of factly, "That only worked because he's out. If its not hooked back up by the time he wakes up, it will hurt like hell."
"Can we take him somewhere on Purvo?" The Scottish doctor asked in a thick brogue, hoping to minimize the transportation time by taking him to a facility in Vientiane.
"Unfortunately," Jochi began, somewhat somberly, "I think the best thing would be to get the big guy good and frozen, and take a JumpShip to Sian. The cybernetics on Purvo would be more of the same outdated garbage."
"Aye." The Doc agreed,, "No sense winding up here again in a couple months."
"If he's still alive by then!" Jochi yelled, putting on his officer voice, "Now get a clue, and prep him for hypersleep."
"Yes, Sir!" The Doc fired off a stiff salute before sternly barking orders to the medical staff in attendance.
____________________________________________________________________
Maximilian Liao General Hospital
Sian, Capellan Confederation
JULY 6th, 3052 11:53
Zvolimir Grabishnikov peeled back his eyelids. They felt stiff, as if they had been unused for a few days. Trying to rub his eyes with both hands, he was startled by the realization that his right arm was inexplicably missing. Checking his right side with his left arm he was shocked to find that all of his non-essential cybernetics had been removed from his right side and back.
"What the fu--" Zvolimir started. As his wits began returning, he noticed the railings on the side of the bed he began to realize that he had awoken in a somewhat fancy, private hospital room. Looking around the room he noticed a bedside table on which were gifts, well-wishes, and... a glass of water.
At least they put that on the working side. Zvolimir thought as he drank the water greedily. Puzzling at the gifts on the table, he picked up a small teddy bear, "Now, why the hell?"
Turning his bear over in his hands he noticed that the right arm had been crudely torn off crudely at the shoulder. Stuffed into the hole was a folded-up note.
"Boss,
Am on Sian for government job You have been unconscious since the third when Jochi rushed you here for proper repair for your mechanical parts.
Get well soon.
Ken"
"Yeah, that's Archangel's sense of humor," Zvolimir said to himself. Trying to move his legs, a bolt of pain wracked his body so intense that even the seasoned old MechWarrior was forced to scream out in anguish.
In response to the agonized shouts, a grey haired older man walked into the room, staring intently at a datapad. "Mr. Grabi... shni... kov? Am I pronouncing that right?"
Zvolimir laughed aloud at the butchering of his last name, "Not even close, but call me Zhong-Shao. We both might live a little longer."
"R-right," The doctor stammered in response to the implied threat, "Of course," Tapping into the datapad, noting the Commanding Officer's hostility. "Are you having any discomfort, Sir?"
"Other than missing an arm and half of my back?" Zvolimir growled at the stupid question." Yes, when I try to move my legs I feel like I am having my side pulled off by a LoaderMech."
"I was afraid of that," The small man, still intimidated by the larger Zvolimir, said quietly, "The pain may be something you'll be dealing with for some time.. You'll need to use a cane. From here on out your days as a pilot may b-"
Zvolimir reached out with trained reflexes, and grabbed the little doctor by the collar of his crisp, white lab coat. Zvolimir hissed, "Let me stop you there, Doc. You're saying that after three thousand years of medicine, you can't see any way to get me back in the cockpit five-by-five?!"
Pulling the small sniveling doctor closer, Zvolimir continued, "What kind of a C.O. isn't there on the front lines, willing to fight and die with his men?".
The doctor squirmed and coughed, "Mr. --er Zhong-Shao the amount of work we had to do in order to repair the damage those outmoded cybernetics did to your body was extensive. If you had made it into proper care sooner we might be able to have a different conversation, but--"
Flabbergasted, the large man released the Doctor, who collapsed, gasping to the floor.
"Just get my cybernetics, and some painkillers. Then get the hell outta my sight."
Security personnel burst into the room, most likely in response to some alarm the simpering little doctor had tripped when Zvolimir had grabbed him. The doctor stood as security began to swarm the hospital suite.
"I'm afraid I can't do that, Zhong-Shao," The doctor said defiantly, it was remarkable to Zvolimir how much easier of a time that the man had speaking when surrounded by a security detail. "Your devotion to your battalion is admirable, but your stay here is a bit more involved than simply overcoming your injuries. Some of your old hardware was becoming infected due to the neglect. We will need to keep you under observation for a few days while we treat you. Your own inability to tend to your prosthetics is the only reason you are being kept here.”
The snide bite to the doctor’s words reminded him of the pissant of a Governor back on Purvo. Grumbling, Zvolimir stroked his graying beard, a little irritated at the prospect of downtime, “Fine.” With a harrumph he felt the socket in which fit his right arm. When he tried moving it, the servos in the socket whirred and buzzed in anticipation of the limb. Nauseated by the sensation of missing a part of his body, he asked, “Where’s my arm, then?”
"Given your...less than calm psychological profile, the hospital felt it best if we held onto your cybernetics during your stay with us. Rest assured, your robotic prosthetics will be returned to you, refurbished and cleaned when you leave."
Zvolimir was incensed. "Listen, doc," He said, maliciously, "How about we separate you from your right arm, and see how you feel about it for a few days?"
"While I am sure I take your meaning, you're only proving my point by being hostile, Zhong-Shao." The doctor replied flatly. With that, the doctor left the suite rather unceremoniously.
Zvolimir laid back on the pillows of his hospital bed. Man, I really hate downtime, he thought , staring up at the ceiling.
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