So innocent.
Despite what a problem she could be for others, she really underestimated just how little Vytln cared for anyone that wasn’t her.
“I’m fine,” he promised, and the words were genuine. “Is everyone on the bridge wearing their envirosuits?”
She checked her tablet, tapping at it a couple times, before nodding once. “Yes. All five.”
“I can’t take on all five. And I can’t fight Yl’ln. She’d be much faster than me right now, and she would be able to overpower me.”
“Right.” Haven made a face.
Frowning, she put her head in her hand. Tapping her fingers against her cheek as she thought for a moment. Vytln said nothing. Just letting her plot and plan. Trusting her completely. She was rescuing him, and she was doing an amazing job. He was just going to let it happen and enjoy bearing witness to her at her most powerful, most devious, most destructive.
“Oh! I know!” She suddenly perked up.
Laughing evilly, she grabbed onto the edge of the hole and slid out. She swung her body around in a neat, controlled flip. The contrast between her graceful figure, sweeping elegantly through the air, and the bulk of her leather jacket, was entrancing. She dropped down, landing with a neat little flourish of her hands before laughing and bringing up her tablet.
“First, I’m going to depressure this room,” she said, typing out some commands to her termites - and the nanobots that the termites commanded.
Vytln didn't notice any change physically. But the display on his envirosuit alerted him that the area around him was losing pressure. It happened slowly, he knew she must be having the nanobots carve many small holes throughout the ship. It was such a gradual thing, he felt not a single change as his suit adapted to the new environment.
The consoles blocking the door also lost their red warning sign. The pressure difference exerted on the door that would have set the lock was gone. Which meant that the lock was also gone. They could move freely between the rooms as if they were pressurized normally. Though the air had all been stolen from the room, the ship itself was still intact.
The fact that not a single announcement of evac pod launching had been made, however, told him that Haven still had absolute control.
“There!” She smiled at him. “Now, we go.”
“And they still inside?”
“Got it covered!” She beamed, holding up her metal cutter. The pointed end got super heated, but it did not use actual fire, so it was still fully functional even in an airless environment.
Vytln trailed after her, each step sending electric fire screaming up his leg from his knee injury. He was limping and could not move fast. He kept the hammer he’d taken tight in his hand, but he knew better than to think he could use it well. Not right now.
But if he had to, he’d drive his body to the very brink to keep Haven safe. He didn't care if he never walked again, if he lost this leg entirely, it would be worth it. As far as he was concerned, he’d already lived through the worst possible eventuality – losing Haven. Nothing else could compare to that, so everything else was worth sacrificing.
But Haven didn't take him to the bridge like he was expecting. Instead, she led him to the med bay. It was completely empty. No one had lingered around here. Everyone who wasn’t trying to fix the problems with the ship were probably all hiding in the evac pods, trying to get them to launch. He wasn’t that surprised that the space was empty.
“Okay!” Haven called out, rushing to the storage units. He thought she might be reaching for the medicines. A pain killer would help a great deal right now. It wouldn’t stop him from damaging his limbs, but if he didn't have to fight through the pain, he could move better.
But she didn't come up with medicines. Instead, she stood with spare first aid kits in hand. The kind used to distribute around the ship for those who couldn’t get to the medbay, or who needed to be stabilized before being taken to medbay.
She began opening them and grabbing the splint kits. Metal rods and bandages for wrapping.
“Come here,” she said, gesturing him forward.
Confused, but not unwilling, he followed as she sat him down in a chair. She kneeled down and, using two short rods meant for his arm, began stabilizing his knee. But in such a way that the hinge action of his knee wasn’t impacted. For a broken knee, a hinge splint like that was useless. But he realized what she was doing as she was tying the gauze around the rods.
She wasn’t splinting his leg, she was giving it extra support. Trying to help him distribute the weight off the knee so he could move easier.
Then, she reached out and touched the wall. When she brought her hand back, it was covered in her termites and a brighter sheen that he realized were the ship’s own nanobots. As he watched, she wiped them on his leg. They began to spread and move, centering on the hinge part of her splints. She brought up her tablet and began tapping quickly.
It wasn’t done fast, but they had plenty of time. And when she finally stood, stepping back with a fierce, satisfied smile, he didn't need her to tell him to try standing. The metal support frame she’d built around his leg went with him. The termites and nanobots moving the splints as he did, helping to support his steps.
It still hurt. His knee was still broken, he knew. But he could move.
Smirking with satisfaction, he moved to one of the drawers and, after a short search, found a medicine injector. He yanked it out and loaded it with one of the pain medicines. He put it to the neck of the envirosuit and the two devices communicated enough that the suit opened a hatch specifically for medical application.
The medicine was short straight into his neck. It was a rush of relief, spreading over his body like sinking into a soothing, hot bath. A temporary measure, but between the pain meds and the basic robotics built around his broken leg, he felt like a renewed male.
