Terra was a bloody mess, that bastard had really done a number on her. Lance wasted no time in carrying her up stairs. It really paid of in times like this that Lance was in good shape; it was no challenge for him to carry Terra up the stairs with sheer speed. He kicked open the door and set her on the couch while he cleared off the table, the same one that not moments ago (or so it seemed) that he was posting in his favorite forum. He got a white bed liner and placed it over the table, so as not to get blood all over the place. Then he set her on it and removed her shirt. There was blood everywhere, Lance knew he would have to prepare some things before he could start the stitching.
"ah, You'll be fine. It really doesn't look too bad." Lance lied while getting his black medic bad and the first aid supplies ready.
He first mixed up some warm water and bactine in a bottle so he could wash the wounds. He poured some over her shoulder where the majority of the blood was, that was the deepest cut. The other were not as baud, but would still require stitches. He got it all clean and clear and then patted it dry with a terry cloth towel. It would require at least ten stitches he though, but since he was by no means a certified doctor, it was hard to tell.
NExt Lance laid out all he would need to preform the operation; Scissors, a thin needle, the stitching thread, and some alcohol. He soaked the thread in the alcohol before cutting it into 3 inch long pieces and tying off the needle, much like sowing.
"All set, Ter.", Dr. Silver is on duty" HE tried to joke even though it was not a funny situation, he thought it may help her feel more comfortable. All he could do was try.
With a steady hand and nothing short of Pure confidence, Lance got to work. He inserted the needle into her skin, taking car to get it as close to the actual cut so as not to reopen it. With each stitch it became easier and easier to preform. Poke, slide, cut and tie. Over and over, not ten times, but 15! All on that one wound, by the time he got to the other ones it was cake. He was done before he knew it and offering Terra some BRandy to help ease the pain, it was all he really had except for morphine, but that was a little too strong he thought.
"Here, Would you like some brandy." HE asked holding out a small glass. Lance made sure to set her up a nice place on the couch, propped up by two pillows. He also turned the heater on so it would be nice and warm for her. After all that, Lance was tired and exhausted. He set down in a chair and put his feet up, then rested his eyes for just a minute and thought back to his first years in space voyage.
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It seemed like a life time ago, although it was only about 2 years prior. He had a small ship similar to the one he had now, except there was no crew, just Lance. He was on a mission to discover new planets, ones not yet documented by the human race. However his exploration was cut short when he became in dept to some nasty individuals; Space Pirates of the Red Fleet. They tracked him all over the galaxy. He realized that he was doing more running and not enough exploring. It was the price he paid for gambling more money than he had. Craps had never been his game, why did he think that playing it on an alien planet would be a good idea?
One day, while drifting under the cover of a vast star structure that ran just below the milky way, Lance decided he would run no more. He knew he was in the wrong but he would do what he had to do to remove his dept. He would kill the ones following him, he would fight the vile "Red Fleet" single handedly. It started off small, he would catch one of them drunk at a bar then follow them outside and slit their throats int the cover of darkness, but soon he became reckless and would just walk in the bar and open fire. Lance became obsessed with killing them all, he wore a red bandanna tied around his face, to symbolize the blood he had spilled on the red fleet. They were a vicious gang of space pirates, but Captain Lance Silver was a cold blooded killer with nothing to lose; transformed by greed and hate, that was until he met Terra. Something abou ther seemed to calm him down, he no longer had the need to gamble, and killing was the furthest thing from his mind.
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The thought of her ripped him from his day dream. Before looking to Terra to make sure she was ok, he looked down at his arm. The one that had 35 red marks, tattooed into his flesh. Each one symbolized a member of the Red Fleet he had killed. Lance never got to finish his goal of bringing down the entire fleet by himself, and at this point in his life he no longer wanted to -or needed to for that matter- they were still after him, but he did not care. Now all he cared about was His navigator, and his continued travels through space.
