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The Black Omegas, Ch. XVI: Busted Wings


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#1 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 15 March 2004 - 08:38 PM

The Vulgar Monkey – a chapterly newsletter of fevered ramblings from the author

1. Alternate title: XVI: “Take these broken wings / And learn to fly again / And learn to live so free…”

Yay for -bad- 80s music!

2. Back on track next time. Enough of “Ye Olde Wingless Wonder/Whiner,” already! :twisted:

XVI: Busted Wings

“Lieutenant, no! There’s still a pair of Javelin missiles strapped to the port wing. They could explode at any-“

Imoen stopped in her tracks. Her head turned to the side, catching the crewman standing behind her out of the corner of her eye. There was something cold, forbidding, and almost sinister in those blue-gray eyes of hers. She took hold of his wrist, and flicked the restraining hand from her shoulder. “Try that again, Crewman, and you’ll pull back a stump. Clear?”

“B-but…”

She ignored his feeble protestations. “I have a friend in that Sabre, and I mean to get her out. Try and stop me again, and I’ll jam your chin onto the cat-locks and fling you out into space,” she told him icily. Nodding dumbly, he backed away and promptly began looking for something else important to do.

“Here, lass… ye might be wantin’ this…”

As Imoen negotiated a particularly slippery patch of deck, she felt a breath mask being shoved into her hands. “Thanks, Cromwell…” she said, donning the emergency gear and instantly feeling the difference. While the air looked relatively clean, and the scrubbers were working overtime trying to filter out all the soot, there was still enough dust and grime floating around to irritate her lungs. The mask provided, quite literally, a breath of fresh air. She closed the last few feet to the mangled Sabre in a dead run, then scrambled up the ladder that had been rolled to the side of the cockpit. She hustled up the stairs and tried to peer inside, but the thick, greasy smoke pouring from the engines had settled over the ship’s whole frame, limiting her vision to “barely see the hand in front of my face” levels.

The fire crews were still on the job, hosing down exposed surfaces, catching any of the small licks of flame before they could spark something larger. An emergency ventilation system kicked on, sucking much of the smoke away, and allowing the crews to better see what they were working on. Imoen took full advantage of the newly restored visibility; she slipped on a pair of heavy gloves, then began feeling along the side of the cockpit, searching for a release catch. She found it, then wiggled her finger inside; her attempts were rewarded with a loud *Snick!*, and she swung the transparisteel canopy up and away.

“How’s it going, Aerie?” she asked, unbelievably “cheerful” in spite of the current circumstances in which she was now mired.

Imoen could see the elf squinting, trying hard to focus her eyes and discern something meaningful from the jumbled images her brain was being fed. “Im- Imoen? What are you doing here?”

“What does it look like? Hauling your useless carcass out of the fire,” the Lieutenant quipped, as she began unbuckling the pilot’s seat restraints. “Y’know, I’m seriously getting tired of saving your butt… I’m amazed you ever made it past puberty. Now be a dear and wiggle your arm for me, will ya?”

Still dazed and confused (more so than usual, surprisingly enough), Aerie nevertheless responded, squirming her right arm free of her crash harness. The effort sent jolts of pain starting at the small of her back, shooting all the way to her fingertips and toes. “Oh. That. Hurts.”

“Wellllll… crap.”

“Don’t say that. P-please don’t say that.”

“Relax, Aerie. I’m just gonna need a little help prying you out of here… you’re wedged in there pretty tight, and the rest of the cockpit kinda folded in around you. Don’t worry, we’ll cut you loose. Promise… or my name isn’t Tendra ‘Thunder-Thighs’ Tarisia.”

“I’m screwed.”

Imoen grinned and turned away, momentarily; she peered over her shoulder, spotting a few figures hustling around the Sabre’s twisted landing gear, and called to them. “Hydraulic cutters up here! On the double!”

A pair of dwarves clambered up the stairs behind her and squeezed past. The lead was carrying a compact, but heavy hydraulic apparatus. He set to work immediately, quickly, efficiently, but also carefully, cutting away the twisted metal. His partner lagged behind, hauling a bulky, boxy contraption that fed pressurized fluid to the rest of the equipment.

“Ha! No’ exactly your first set o’ busted wings ever, now is it?” Korgan Bloodaxe teased as he tweaked the power output on the portable energy generator.

Short as he was, Korgan couldn’t see over the lip of the cockpit, and therefore couldn’t see Aerie still seated inside. He clearly heard her response, though. It drew a grin from him.

“Korgan? H-how about a little less chatter, and a lot more… ‘shut the hell up’?!”

The other dwarven member of the rescue crew turned and spitted his comrade with an annoyed glare. “Don’t ye worry yer pretty littl’ head off, lass… we’ll ‘ave you outta ‘ere afore ye can say ‘haggis’…” Cromwell commented, trying to reassure the pinned elf.

She sighed. “Haggis. I’m still stuck.”

“All right… now she’s starting ta try me patience…” Korgan caught another irritated glance for his trouble; this time, it was from Imoen; she nudged the dwarf out of the way with her hip.

“Maybe you better go help the guys working over at the tail-gunner slot, huh?” She crouched down and began fiddling with the controls on the cutter’s primary power unit.

“Hmph. Lieutenant, yer an o’er-lame excuse fer a member o’ this crew, and I be tired of exertin’ meself to help ye! Next time I let ye all perish, screaming like a ninny as ye does!”

“Pffft. The last time I saw -you- exert yourself over anything was the last slab of pork in the Mess Hall… if you could keep up with me with that beer gut of yours, I’d be amazed…”

“Beer gut?! Why, ye stinkin' wench, how dare ye! Keep up with my keen axe as it flies towards yer head, more like! Though it'd be like splittin' a hair, skinny as ye are!”

“I'd be startled if a drunk dwarven oaf like yourself could hit the broad side of a barn with your axe. And while we're talking about stench, let's talk about the last time you passed out in your own vomit.”

Aerie’s voice, weak but steady, floated up from inside the cockpit, again. “I can feel the love.”

“Pimple-faced, whining gutter-snipe…” Korgan grumbled as he turned and headed for the Sabre’s rear turret.

Imoen smirked at his back. “Cantankerous, foul-mouthed excuse for a gully dwarf…”

He whirled around and stared her down. “Gully dwarf? Har har! Ye knows how to hit low, ye does! Har har! Yer a fine, fine lass, ye are, Imoen. That Gorion of yers would be proud!”

She flashed him a rude gesture. The middle finger of her left hand figured prominently in that gesture. “Thanks, Korgan,” she replied, grinning good-naturedly. “Now get lost…”

There was a sigh from inside the Sabre’s cockpit after the dwarf had departed. “Uhh… not to be a bother or anything, but…” she coughed, “I… can’t… f-feel my legs anymore. Could we… oh, I don’t know… speed this up a bit? Oh, and in other news, I r-really wonder if Korgan’ll ever get sick of pushing me around.”

Lieutenant Llyr suppressed the urge to grimace at Aerie’s frighteningly straightforward description of the situation. Imoen was well aware that time was a factor, but she and Cromwell could only work so fast. She had to keep the elf’s mind occupied on more trivial concerns – it was one of the first things they drilled into the heads of medical and other rescue personnel: reassure the wounded. “Well, those lessons Lynn’s been giving you in ‘how to mouth off’ seem to be progressing nicely,” she said, deciding to address the second subject and ignore the first, “but that stammering still kinda works against you…”

“You’re heartless.”

“On the contrary. You know how easy it is to find bootleg human organs on the Black Market? –“ She cut off abruptly. “What’s up?” she asked Cromwell.

The dwarf moved back half a step and examined his work, then set aside the hydraulic equipment he’d been using. “I think we might be able to get ‘er out now.”

A concerned frown from the Lieutenant was the immediate response. “It just occurred to me that someone with a possible head/neck/back injury probably shouldn’t be moved.”

“Aye, tis true… but if this fighter explodes, it’ll kill her just as dead.”

There was a pained whimper from inside. “Eep. Thank you. I feel so much better.”

The would-be rescuers traded embarrassed glances. “Uh… you heard that?”

“I’m a cripple, I’m not deaf,” was the mock-cheerful response to Imoen’s question.

“Sorry.”

“Um… well, thank you, I appreciate the apology, but m-maybe we could discuss this after I’m no longer in immediate danger of being turned into Avariel stir-fry?”

“Yeah. Gotcha. Um… can you scooch your hips free just a little?”

“I can try… one sec- OW!” Her voice went up sharply, then started to trail off. “M-mother… p-pus…bucket…”

“What happened? What happened?!”

“Good news or bad news first?”

“Um… uh… good.”

“O-Ok. Good: I can feel my legs again.”

“Bad?”

“Bad: I think they’re broken.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.”

“Ok, don’t panic, we’ve got most of the obstructions cut away…” Imoen reached down, wrapped an arm just above the pilot’s waist, and held on tight. “Ready?”

“No. Do it, anyway,” Aerie replied almost matter-of-factly, gripping the external handles on both sides of the cockpit, and bracing herself to push up with her arms.

“Go.”

Aerie pushed, Imoen pulled, and slowly but surely, the Avariel’s slight frame inched upwards and out of the Sabre’s mangled cockpit. The strength in her arms flagged after a foot or so, however, as the pain from her broken legs broke into her concentration. The muscles in her arms began to quiver as she struggled to haul herself out, her jaw set, teeth clenched so tightly together that the pressure was starting to hurt her temples. Sweat beaded on her forehead and began to drip down, stinging her eyes, so she squeezed them shut. A soft but pained whimper escaped through her closed mouth.

“Almost there… just a couple more inches…” Imoen was grunting with the strain of lifting an entire body, and her arm was starting to cramp. She noticed Cromwell perched precariously on the instrumentation panel, ripping up the mangled dash and wiring, trying to buy some more room for the other two to work. “Need a medic-“ the SpaceOps trooper managed to gasp as she fought for breath, and suddenly Minsc was by her side, almost casually hoisting the elf out completely in one clean lift. Without a word, and with surprising care, he had carried her down the ladder and carted her off to a section of flight deck devoted to casualty triage.

Jaheira was crouched down by a group of casualties, sorting out the dead from the wounded, evaluating obvious injuries, and determining who got treated first. “Regulation…” she said, referring to a crewman who had caught several fragments of shrapnel. The lacerations, especially the one that had nearly scalped him completely were serious, but there were some even worse off.

“Priority…” she muttered, grimly, as she knelt over a burn victim and looped a red tag over the crewman’s wrist. A pair of medical corpsmen gently transferred him to a stretcher and hustled him away. Temporarily done with her work, Jaheira looked up only to see Minsc trundling in her direction with a limp figure cradled in his arms. She waved her hand at him, and he caught the sign. Within seconds, the medic was back on the job.

“No obvious trauma aside from the leg fractures…” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else. “Slight chance of a concussion, might be some internal hemorrhaging…” she pushed, poked and prodded at the abdomen. “Any pain? Tenderness?”

Aerie would have shaken her head, but the white plastic collar that had been slipped around her neck as a preventive measure prohibited that kind of movement. “None,” she replied verbally, instead.

“Good. I’ll need to reduce these fractures before we send you to Sickbay.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” commented Imoen.

In an almost surreal moment, Jaheira hesitated before dropping the hammer. “This… -will- hurt.” She almost sounded… sorry… about that.

Imoen's expression was one of clear concern. “Can’t you… knock her out or something, first?”

“No,” the elf and half-elf said in unison.

Llyr, startled, looked back and forth between the two faces, expecting an answer from one or the other. Aerie took the initiative. “Possible concussion, remember? Besides, I have -bad- hypotension…”

“In Common?”

“My blood pressure would win limbo contests.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”

“I can give her a local, but it will not help much.” Jaheira made the injection, jamming the needle in mid-thigh, then repeating the process on the other leg. “Minsc, Imoen, keep her still while I work.”

The big man nodded gravely, as solemn as a stone pillar. Even Imoen didn’t seem too interested in being “peppy.” She, too, nodded somberly. “I’m on it.” The two Omega troopers placed their hands on Aerie’s shoulders, exerting enough pressure to keep her back flat against the deck, but not enough to hurt her any further. Jaheira would be administering all the pain from this point on.

The first dosage was plenty. There was, thankfully, no horrible sound of bone grating against bone or anything of the sort, but that didn’t help the elven pilot all that much. She felt every tiny shift and every little jolt. Almost out of reflex, she tried to bring herself up to a sitting position, but there was no chance of that, pinned at the shoulders as she was. She fought the urge to kick, but couldn’t suppress her reactions entirely, still squirming slightly no matter how much she knew she should hold still. By the time Jaheira had moved on to the handheld osteal and dermal regenerators, Aerie was gasping for breath and trying hard not to cry.

That resolve crumbled seconds later as Jaheira attempted a similar procedure on the left leg, The façade cracked as it became painfully apparent that there was an actual -bone- being maneuvered around under her skin. Her hands clenched into fists so tight, her fingernails left bloody furrows in her palms. The whole ordeal lasted only several seconds, albeit several seconds of concentrated torture. Aerie tried to choke back a sob, but failed, feeling herself nearly gag as a result.

And then it was over.

“Will… will she be ok?”

A faint, almost imperceptible nod from Jaheira was the only reply. She turned, instead, waving at a pair of stretcher-bearing medics. “Get her to Sickbay,” she told them. “Make sure they take care of her.”

The one at the front of the litter nodded soberly as he bent to secure the patient to the backboard. “Yes, ma’am…”

“I’ll never understand why you joined the Starfighter Corps…” Imoen commented sadly as the medics lifted the stretcher off the ground.

Although she looked almost deathly pale, Aerie managed a small, wan smile. “I still like to fly. I just had to figure out another way to do it…”

#2 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 15 March 2004 - 10:11 PM

The Vulgar Monkey – a chapterly newsletter of fevered ramblings from the author


We keep on getting better names :wink:

1. Alternate title: XVI: “Take these broken wings / And learn to fly again / And learn to live so free…”

Yay for -bad- 80s music!


*sights in on Alpha, considers taking the shot. Decides that he'd not get anymore Omegas and decides against shooting him. Decides instead to put ex lax in his coffee*

XVI: Busted Wings


Fun.

“Lieutenant, no! There’s still a pair of Javelin missiles strapped to the port wing. They could explode at any-“


Narg: "Missles go boom make Immy go splat."

Basic physics from Narg who will be assisting me in commenting today. :wink:

Imoen stopped in her tracks. Her head turned to the side, catching the crewman standing behind her out of the corner of her eye. There was something cold, forbidding, and almost sinister in those blue-gray eyes of hers. She took hold of his wrist, and flicked the restraining hand from her shoulder. “Try that again, Crewman, and you’ll pull back a stump. Clear?”


Imoen Varnas: "That's telling him. Although a simple twist at the wrist would have solved the problem."

Bran: "Sis, she still needs him."

Imoen: "Well, its not like she'd have broken it...."

“B-but…”

She ignored his feeble protestations. “I have a friend in that Sabre, and I mean to get her out. Try and stop me again, and I’ll jam your chin onto the cat-locks and fling you out into space,” she told him icily. Nodding dumbly, he backed away and promptly began looking for something else important to do.


Smart boy that crewer. :wink:

“Here, lass… ye might be wantin’ this…”

As Imoen negotiated a particularly slippery patch of deck, she felt a breath mask being shoved into her hands. “Thanks, Cromwell…” she said, donning the emergency gear and instantly feeling the difference. While the air looked relatively clean, and the scrubbers were working overtime trying to filter out all the soot, there was still enough dust and grime floating around to irritate her lungs. The mask provided, quite literally, a breath of fresh air. She closed the last few feet to the mangled Sabre in a dead run, then scrambled up the ladder that had been rolled to the side of the cockpit. She hustled up the stairs and tried to peer inside, but the thick, greasy smoke pouring from the engines had settled over the ship’s whole frame, limiting her vision to “barely see the hand in front of my face” levels.


Good old Cromwell. Always count on him with the right gadgetry. :?

The fire crews were still on the job, hosing down exposed surfaces, catching any of the small licks of flame before they could spark something larger. An emergency ventilation system kicked on, sucking much of the smoke away, and allowing the crews to better see what they were working on. Imoen took full advantage of the newly restored visibility; she slipped on a pair of heavy gloves, then began feeling along the side of the cockpit, searching for a release catch. She found it, then wiggled her finger inside; her attempts were rewarded with a loud *Snick!*, and she swung the transparisteel canopy up and away.


Good thing that didn't happen in transit... :twisted:

“How’s it going, Aerie?” she asked, unbelievably “cheerful” in spite of the current circumstances in which she was now mired.


Aerie: Not bad. Inflight movie was good, but the food was terrible. And there was a lot of turbulence.

Imoen could see the elf squinting, trying hard to focus her eyes and discern something meaningful from the jumbled images her brain was being fed. “Im- Imoen? What are you doing here?”


Imoen: Savin your butt.

“What does it look like? Hauling your useless carcass out of the fire,” the Lieutenant quipped, as she began unbuckling the pilot’s seat restraints. “Y’know, I’m seriously getting tired of saving your butt… I’m amazed you ever made it past puberty. Now be a dear and wiggle your arm for me, will ya?”


Told ya. :?

Still dazed and confused (more so than usual, surprisingly enough), Aerie nevertheless responded, squirming her right arm free of her crash harness. The effort sent jolts of pain starting at the small of her back, shooting all the way to her fingertips and toes. “Oh. That. Hurts.”


Ouch, but that is a good sign.. she felt her toes. :)

“Wellllll… crap.”

“Don’t say that. P-please don’t say that.”

“Relax, Aerie. I’m just gonna need a little help prying you out of here… you’re wedged in there pretty tight, and the rest of the cockpit kinda folded in around you. Don’t worry, we’ll cut you loose. Promise… or my name isn’t Tendra ‘Thunder-Thighs’ Tarisia.”


LOL! Thunder Thighs Bwahahahaha

“I’m screwed.”


Hehehehe

Imoen grinned and turned away, momentarily; she peered over her shoulder, spotting a few figures hustling around the Sabre’s twisted landing gear, and called to them. “Hydraulic cutters up here! On the double!”

A pair of dwarves clambered up the stairs behind her and squeezed past. The lead was carrying a compact, but heavy hydraulic apparatus. He set to work immediately, quickly, efficiently, but also carefully, cutting away the twisted metal. His partner lagged behind, hauling a bulky, boxy contraption that fed pressurized fluid to the rest of the equipment.


Dwarf cutter squad, advance!!

“Ha! No’ exactly your first set o’ busted wings ever, now is it?” Korgan Bloodaxe teased as he tweaked the power output on the portable energy generator.


Korgan, the ever politic.

Short as he was, Korgan couldn’t see over the lip of the cockpit, and therefore couldn’t see Aerie still seated inside. He clearly heard her response, though. It drew a grin from him.

“Korgan? H-how about a little less chatter, and a lot more… ‘shut the hell up’?!”


:twisted: Aerie lighting it up! :P :P

The other dwarven member of the rescue crew turned and spitted his comrade with an annoyed glare. “Don’t ye worry yer pretty littl’ head off, lass… we’ll ‘ave you outta ‘ere afore ye can say ‘haggis’…” Cromwell commented, trying to reassure the pinned elf.


Cromwell, the nice one. :D

She sighed. “Haggis. I’m still stuck.”


LOL!!

“All right… now she’s starting ta try me patience…” Korgan caught another irritated glance for his trouble; this time, it was from Imoen; she nudged the dwarf out of the way with her hip.


*snigger*

“Maybe you better go help the guys working over at the tail-gunner slot, huh?” She crouched down and began fiddling with the controls on the cutter’s primary power unit.

“Hmph. Lieutenant, yer an o’er-lame excuse fer a member o’ this crew, and I be tired of exertin’ meself to help ye! Next time I let ye all perish, screaming like a ninny as ye does!”


You can feel the love here. :D

“Pffft. The last time I saw -you- exert yourself over anything was the last slab of pork in the Mess Hall… if you could keep up with me with that beer gut of yours, I’d be amazed…”


Return fire!!

“Beer gut?! Why, ye stinkin' wench, how dare ye! Keep up with my keen axe as it flies towards yer head, more like! Though it'd be like splittin' a hair, skinny as ye are!”


Well, we've got the weight jokes in there. :D

“I'd be startled if a drunk dwarven oaf like yourself could hit the broad side of a barn with your axe. And while we're talking about stench, let's talk about the last time you passed out in your own vomit.”


What was that, yesterday? :D

Aerie’s voice, weak but steady, floated up from inside the cockpit, again. “I can feel the love.”


*snigger* At least its keeping her distracted...

“Pimple-faced, whining gutter-snipe…” Korgan grumbled as he turned and headed for the Sabre’s rear turret.

Imoen smirked at his back. “Cantankerous, foul-mouthed excuse for a gully dwarf…”

He whirled around and stared her down. “Gully dwarf? Har har! Ye knows how to hit low, ye does! Har har! Yer a fine, fine lass, ye are, Imoen. That Gorion of yers would be proud!”


Korgan's in love :D

She flashed him a rude gesture. The middle finger of her left hand figured prominently in that gesture. “Thanks, Korgan,” she replied, grinning good-naturedly. “Now get lost…”

There was a sigh from inside the Sabre’s cockpit after the dwarf had departed. “Uhh… not to be a bother or anything, but…” she coughed, “I… can’t… f-feel my legs anymore. Could we… oh, I don’t know… speed this up a bit? Oh, and in other news, I r-really wonder if Korgan’ll ever get sick of pushing me around.”


Poor Aerie, neglected and stuck...

Lieutenant Llyr suppressed the urge to grimace at Aerie’s frighteningly straightforward description of the situation. Imoen was well aware that time was a factor, but she and Cromwell could only work so fast. She had to keep the elf’s mind occupied on more trivial concerns – it was one of the first things they drilled into the heads of medical and other rescue personnel: reassure the wounded. “Well, those lessons Lynn’s been giving you in ‘how to mouth off’ seem to be progressing nicely,” she said, deciding to address the second subject and ignore the first, “but that stammering still kinda works against you…”


They really have. Soon enough she'll be Captain. Hell who knows, possibly CAG :D

“You’re heartless.”

“On the contrary. You know how easy it is to find bootleg human organs on the Black Market? –“ She cut off abruptly. “What’s up?” she asked Cromwell.


*snigger*

Bran: Pretty easy. Although, you'd be surprised how the natural ones are still cheaper on the market compared to the cloned ones. Some people...

The dwarf moved back half a step and examined his work, then set aside the hydraulic equipment he’d been using. “I think we might be able to get ‘er out now.”

A concerned frown from the Lieutenant was the immediate response. “It just occurred to me that someone with a possible head/neck/back injury probably shouldn’t be moved.”

“Aye, tis true… but if this fighter explodes, it’ll kill her just as dead.”


Cromwell, winning the Mr. Obvious award for this chapter. :D

There was a pained whimper from inside. “Eep. Thank you. I feel so much better.”


*snigger* I know I should feel for Aerie here, but its just too funny. :D

The would-be rescuers traded embarrassed glances. “Uh… you heard that?”

“I’m a cripple, I’m not deaf,” was the mock-cheerful response to Imoen’s question.

“Sorry.”


*snigger*

“Um… well, thank you, I appreciate the apology, but m-maybe we could discuss this after I’m no longer in immediate danger of being turned into Avariel stir-fry?”


Despite all her injuries, her sense of humor is still intact.

“Yeah. Gotcha. Um… can you scooch your hips free just a little?”

“I can try… one sec- OW!” Her voice went up sharply, then started to trail off. “M-mother… p-pus…bucket…”


Not good.. she's swearing :evil:

“What happened? What happened?!”

“Good news or bad news first?”

“Um… uh… good.”

“O-Ok. Good: I can feel my legs again.”

“Bad?”

“Bad: I think they’re broken.”

“Oh.”

“Yup.”


A priceless exchange. :D

“Ok, don’t panic, we’ve got most of the obstructions cut away…” Imoen reached down, wrapped an arm just above the pilot’s waist, and held on tight. “Ready?”


Silly question...

“No. Do it, anyway,” Aerie replied almost matter-of-factly, gripping the external handles on both sides of the cockpit, and bracing herself to push up with her arms.

“Go.”

Aerie pushed, Imoen pulled, and slowly but surely, the Avariel’s slight frame inched upwards and out of the Sabre’s mangled cockpit. The strength in her arms flagged after a foot or so, however, as the pain from her broken legs broke into her concentration. The muscles in her arms began to quiver as she struggled to haul herself out, her jaw set, teeth clenched so tightly together that the pressure was starting to hurt her temples. Sweat beaded on her forehead and began to drip down, stinging her eyes, so she squeezed them shut. A soft but pained whimper escaped through her closed mouth.


Ouch.... poor girl, that just doesn't sound good....

“Almost there… just a couple more inches…” Imoen was grunting with the strain of lifting an entire body, and her arm was starting to cramp. She noticed Cromwell perched precariously on the instrumentation panel, ripping up the mangled dash and wiring, trying to buy some more room for the other two to work. “Need a medic-“ the SpaceOps trooper managed to gasp as she fought for breath, and suddenly Minsc was by her side, almost casually hoisting the elf out completely in one clean lift. Without a word, and with surprising care, he had carried her down the ladder and carted her off to a section of flight deck devoted to casualty triage.


Minsc. The human crane in this case. :D

Jaheira was crouched down by a group of casualties, sorting out the dead from the wounded, evaluating obvious injuries, and determining who got treated first. “Regulation…” she said, referring to a crewman who had caught several fragments of shrapnel. The lacerations, especially the one that had nearly scalped him completely were serious, but there were some even worse off.


Ouch.. when you're mostly scalped and your not a priority case, you know things are bad...

“Priority…” she muttered, grimly, as she knelt over a burn victim and looped a red tag over the crewman’s wrist. A pair of medical corpsmen gently transferred him to a stretcher and hustled him away. Temporarily done with her work, Jaheira looked up only to see Minsc trundling in her direction with a limp figure cradled in his arms. She waved her hand at him, and he caught the sign. Within seconds, the medic was back on the job.

“No obvious trauma aside from the leg fractures…” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else. “Slight chance of a concussion, might be some internal hemorrhaging…” she pushed, poked and prodded at the abdomen. “Any pain? Tenderness?”


At least no spinal injuries. :)

Aerie would have shaken her head, but the white plastic collar that had been slipped around her neck as a preventive measure prohibited that kind of movement. “None,” she replied verbally, instead.

“Good. I’ll need to reduce these fractures before we send you to Sickbay.”

“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” commented Imoen.

In an almost surreal moment, Jaheira hesitated before dropping the hammer. “This… -will- hurt.” She almost sounded… sorry… about that.


Ouch... yeah, if I think she's going to do what I think she's going to do....

Imoen's expression was one of clear concern. “Can’t you… knock her out or something, first?”

“No,” the elf and half-elf said in unison.

Llyr, startled, looked back and forth between the two faces, expecting an answer from one or the other. Aerie took the initiative. “Possible concussion, remember? Besides, I have -bad- hypotension…”

“In Common?”

“My blood pressure would win limbo contests.”

“Oh.”

“Yep.”


Definitely... hypotension and a concussion.. we want her awake, not dead...

“I can give her a local, but it will not help much.” Jaheira made the injection, jamming the needle in mid-thigh, then repeating the process on the other leg. “Minsc, Imoen, keep her still while I work.”

The big man nodded gravely, as solemn as a stone pillar. Even Imoen didn’t seem too interested in being “peppy.” She, too, nodded somberly. “I’m on it.” The two Omega troopers placed their hands on Aerie’s shoulders, exerting enough pressure to keep her back flat against the deck, but not enough to hurt her any further. Jaheira would be administering all the pain from this point on.

The first dosage was plenty. There was, thankfully, no horrible sound of bone grating against bone or anything of the sort, but that didn’t help the elven pilot all that much. She felt every tiny shift and every little jolt. Almost out of reflex, she tried to bring herself up to a sitting position, but there was no chance of that, pinned at the shoulders as she was. She fought the urge to kick, but couldn’t suppress her reactions entirely, still squirming slightly no matter how much she knew she should hold still. By the time Jaheira had moved on to the handheld osteal and dermal regenerators, Aerie was gasping for breath and trying hard not to cry.

That resolve crumbled seconds later as Jaheira attempted a similar procedure on the left leg, The façade cracked as it became painfully apparent that there was an actual -bone- being maneuvered around under her skin. Her hands clenched into fists so tight, her fingernails left bloody furrows in her palms. The whole ordeal lasted only several seconds, albeit several seconds of concentrated torture. Aerie tried to choke back a sob, but failed, feeling herself nearly gag as a result.


YEOWCH. Great if painful description there Alpha. :lol:

And then it was over.

“Will… will she be ok?”

A faint, almost imperceptible nod from Jaheira was the only reply. She turned, instead, waving at a pair of stretcher-bearing medics. “Get her to Sickbay,” she told them. “Make sure they take care of her.”

The one at the front of the litter nodded soberly as he bent to secure the patient to the backboard. “Yes, ma’am…”


Off to see the ship's doc. Wonder who that is?

“I’ll never understand why you joined the Starfighter Corps…” Imoen commented sadly as the medics lifted the stretcher off the ground.

Although she looked almost deathly pale, Aerie managed a small, wan smile. “I still like to fly. I just had to figure out another way to do it…”


Great ending line... and a very good reason too.

Great chapter Alpha. Good banter even amongst the serious issues. But I do have to ask, what happened to the tail gunner? He make it?

VH

#3 Guest_bobby23_*

Posted 15 March 2004 - 11:05 PM

oh man how do you come up with this stuff

this had me laughing from the start till the end

great in game banter that you work in without a odd slip (aldo korgan trwoing a axe? dwarfs still use axes??)

anyway other then that pure comedie and grafic discription of events i loved it

give me more soon

(ps plz do not kill me on grammer of spelling i know i`m crap at that. i`m working on it)

#4 Guest_Userunfriendly_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 12:15 AM

The Vulgar Monkey – a chapterly newsletter of fevered ramblings from the author


or the inn at brynnlaw... :)

Yay for -bad- 80s music!


or has been bands...they made about 3 songs that were halfway decent, then disappeared... :P

As Imoen negotiated a particularly slippery patch of deck, she felt a breath mask being shoved into her hands. “Thanks, Cromwell…” she said, donning the emergency gear and instantly feeling the difference. While the air looked relatively clean, and the scrubbers were working overtime trying to filter out all the soot, there was still enough dust and grime floating around to irritate her lungs. The mask provided, quite literally, a breath of fresh air. She closed the last few feet to the mangled Sabre in a dead run, then scrambled up the ladder that had been rolled to the side of the cockpit. She hustled up the stairs and tried to peer inside, but the thick, greasy smoke pouring from the engines had settled over the ship’s whole frame, limiting her vision to “barely see the hand in front of my face” levels.


smoke..bad in a flight deck.. :?

“Relax, Aerie. I’m just gonna need a little help prying you out of here… you’re wedged in there pretty tight, and the rest of the cockpit kinda folded in around you. Don’t worry, we’ll cut you loose. Promise… or my name isn’t Tendra ‘Thunder-Thighs’ Tarisia.”


:twisted: :twisted: :evil:

“I’m screwed.”


royally...

Imoen grinned and turned away, momentarily; she peered over her shoulder, spotting a few figures hustling around the Sabre’s twisted landing gear, and called to them. “Hydraulic cutters up here! On the double!”


jaws of life?

The other dwarven member of the rescue crew turned and spitted his comrade with an annoyed glare. “Don’t ye worry yer pretty littl’ head off, lass… we’ll ‘ave you outta ‘ere afore ye can say ‘haggis’…” Cromwell commented, trying to reassure the pinned elf.


YUM!!!!

She sighed. “Haggis. I’m still stuck.”


you have to say it with meaning..

HAGGIS!!!!!!!!!!!!! :lol:

“Maybe you better go help the guys working over at the tail-gunner slot, huh?” She crouched down and began fiddling with the controls on the cutter’s primary power unit.


is the gunner ok???

“I'd be startled if a drunk dwarven oaf like yourself could hit the broad side of a barn with your axe. And while we're talking about stench, let's talk about the last time you passed out in your own vomit.”


that was last night... :)

Aerie’s voice, weak but steady, floated up from inside the cockpit, again. “I can feel the love.”


me too!!!

There was a sigh from inside the Sabre’s cockpit after the dwarf had departed. “Uhh… not to be a bother or anything, but…” she coughed, “I… can’t… f-feel my legs anymore. Could we… oh, I don’t know… speed this up a bit? Oh, and in other news, I r-really wonder if Korgan’ll ever get sick of pushing me around.”


never... :?

Lieutenant Llyr suppressed the urge to grimace at Aerie’s frighteningly straightforward description of the situation. Imoen was well aware that time was a factor, but she and Cromwell could only work so fast. She had to keep the elf’s mind occupied on more trivial concerns – it was one of the first things they drilled into the heads of medical and other rescue personnel: reassure the wounded. “Well, those lessons Lynn’s been giving you in ‘how to mouth off’ seem to be progressing nicely,” she said, deciding to address the second subject and ignore the first, “but that stammering still kinda works against you…”


aerie is taking swearing lessons??? why doesn't that surprise me.. :P

Jaheira was crouched down by a group of casualties, sorting out the dead from the wounded, evaluating obvious injuries, and determining who got treated first. “Regulation…” she said, referring to a crewman who had caught several fragments of shrapnel. The lacerations, especially the one that had nearly scalped him completely were serious, but there were some even worse off.


triage...a really bad thing in combat conditions...sigh...

Although she looked almost deathly pale, Aerie managed a small, wan smile. “I still like to fly. I just had to figure out another way to do it…”


she sure has a lot of spunk...

great chapter, more soon!!! :wink: :wink: :wink:

#5 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 12:43 AM

We keep on getting better names


I love The Vulgar Monkey... they have the best pecan pie I've ever tasted. I was there a while back, and had some of the most incredible chocolate fudge ice cream I've ever sampled in my life... :D

*sights in on Alpha, considers taking the shot. Decides that he'd not get anymore Omegas and decides against shooting him. Decides instead to put ex lax in his coffee*


...

...

...

...

Jerk.

:wink:

Narg: "Missles go boom make Immy go splat."

Basic physics from Narg who will be assisting me in commenting today.


If basic physics really were that simple, I'd have had a far easier time with it than I actually did. :D

Imoen Varnas: "That's telling him. Although a simple twist at the wrist would have solved the problem."

Bran: "Sis, she still needs him."

Imoen: "Well, its not like she'd have broken it...."


Harlequin: "Exactly. If I'd planned on breaking it, he'd be on the deck bawling like a teething newborn."

LOL! Thunder Thighs Bwahahahaha


I love alliteration. :D

Aerie lighting it up!


She's been taking classes... right now, she's at that point where she's got a decent repertoire of canned insults and comebacks, but she hasn't yet gotten experienced enough to work up her own on the fly. That's a talent that few possess... and it can't really be taught.

You can feel the love here.


Definitely one of my favorite exchanges from Throne of Bhaal... that's one thing that made me sad about SoA... not enough Imoen backtalk... it's as if they intended her to be rescued and then abandoned immediately afterwards. No party banter, nothing... glad they put some into ToB... though I still would've liked a bit more of it...

Anyway, yeah, this bit with Korgan is one of my favorites... also on the hit list are the "Ill effects? What kind of ill effects? Irritableness, nausea, tone-deafness... sudden cravings for pasta in the middle of the night? That sorta thing?"

And the "Well, aside from that time I woke up in the middle of the night to steal a package of cinammon cookies, heck no!"

Adorable. :D

Well, we've got the weight jokes in there.


Thin jokes here, fat jokes next chapter. :wink:

Korgan's in love


Not with Imoen. That wouldn't be kosher. :wink:

Poor Aerie, neglected and stuck...


AS SHE SHOULD BE!

...

Ok... so there's Ex-Lax in my coffee, but I think someone else slipped something in there, too...

Hmmmmmmmmmmmmmmm...

They really have. Soon enough she'll be Captain. Hell who knows, possibly CAG


Now, THAT'S a scary thought. Aerie? As the CAG? Ohhhhhhhh boy... no, I don't think so. She's in it for the flying, not the bossing folks around...

Although, you'd be surprised how the natural ones are still cheaper on the market compared to the cloned ones. Some people...


Lannibal Hechter: Those cloned livers just don't have the same flavor.

*snigger* I know I should feel for Aerie here, but its just too funny.


Meh... I laughed. :lol:

Not good.. she's swearing


Well, not really... there's nothing obscene about mother or bucket or even pus, even though it's gross...

A priceless exchange.


I was going for something asburd, really... the "Oh..." ... "Yup..." part was me trying for "surrealistically understated" or whatever... and yes, often, asburd = funny. :P

Ouch.... poor girl, that just doesn't sound good....


Thankfully, I've never been in a serious car accident or whatever, but I can't imagine that getting into a wreck and having to be pried out of a mangled car with the Jaws of Life is really a very comfortable thing to experience...

Minsc. The human crane in this case.


Corporal Minsc "Castle" Vaonnor; Military Operational Specialty: Heavy lifting.

YEOWCH. Great if painful description there Alpha.


(Nod) If I got people squirming, then I did that part right. I'm glad it's working.

Off to see the ship's doc. Wonder who that is?


Lieutenant Colonel Orin "Malpractice" Banner...

:D

Great ending line... and a very good reason too.


I consider that her "hook"... I guess... her rationale for going into the service in the first place... it's not her only motivation, certainly, but I think it's a significant part of it... at least enough that I figured it was worth mentioning.

Great chapter Alpha. Good banter even amongst the serious issues. But I do have to ask, what happened to the tail gunner? He make it?


I'm glad you think so. I still stand by my statement that it's not particularly easy to put humor into a grim situation... it's possible, I guess, but often it becomes more trouble than it's worth.

As for Tyler, well, he's actually quite fine. Got a little bump on the head, but his turret didn't get turned into an ugly mass of twisted metal and burned wiring. He'll be napping for a bit, but I imagine Korgan got him out ok... if I bring Aerie back later on, she'll likely still have the same gunner... you know how it is: crews get uppity if they're forced to work with other people. :D

#6 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 12:46 AM

this had me laughing from the start till the end


Cool! :wink:

great in game banter that you work in without a odd slip (aldo korgan trwoing a axe? dwarfs still use axes??)


As I said to Viga, that bit's one of my favorite conversations from the game... I just had to find a way to work it in... and yeah, it seems odd that Korgan's talking about an axe, but it's not completely unbelievable, I think. Even with modern-day guns, soldiers still find need for combat knives and stuff, so it's possible he might still drag one around from time to time.

(ps plz do not kill me on grammer of spelling i know i`m crap at that. i`m working on it)


Not a problem. I've been studying the language all my life, and I still have problems...

Past participles are EVIL. :wink:

#7 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 12:54 AM

or the inn at brynnlaw...


You're right! I didn't catch that. Like I said to VH, it's also a dessert shop in Hoboken, NJ that I frequent. :wink:

or has been bands...they made about 3 songs that were halfway decent, then disappeared...


What can I say? I've been playing Vice City (Again) of late, and the soundtrack just sticks in your head.

smoke..bad in a flight deck..


That it is. That's why they have emergency venting systems...

jaws of life?


Yep. I had to do a little "research" on how the things actually worked... if anything, writing Omega chapters is forcing me to actually "learn" real stuff. :wink:

HAGGIS!!!!!!!!!!!!!


I've never eaten it. The very idea scares me.

"It's as if all of Scottish cuisine is based on a dare!"

Or...

"Me given name be 'Heart, Liver, and Kidneys, boiled in the stomach of the animal' McMutton..."

"Oh, so your parents wanted a girl..."

(Chuckles) "Aye..."

is the gunner ok?


:lol: See above. Tyler made it. He's in better shape than Aerie, actually.

that was last night...


You and VH thinking alike here. I'm getting worried.

she sure has a lot of spunk...


More than the game version, yeah...

Maybe I'll get a chance to show just where she picked it up from.

Anyway... deployment is next chapter... prepare for airborne insertion... :wink:

#8 Laufey

Posted 16 March 2004 - 06:17 PM

2. Back on track next time. Enough of “Ye Olde Wingless Wonder/Whiner,” already! :P


Appreciate it. :wink:


Imoen stopped in her tracks. Her head turned to the side, catching the crewman standing behind her out of the corner of her eye. There was something cold, forbidding, and almost sinister in those blue-gray eyes of hers. She took hold of his wrist, and flicked the restraining hand from her shoulder. “Try that again, Crewman, and you’ll pull back a stump. Clear?”


Aw, Imoen is lovably loyal. :wink:


A pair of dwarves clambered up the stairs behind her and squeezed past. The lead was carrying a compact, but heavy hydraulic apparatus. He set to work immediately, quickly, efficiently, but also carefully, cutting away the twisted metal. His partner lagged behind, hauling a bulky, boxy contraption that fed pressurized fluid to the rest of the equipment.


“Ha! No’ exactly your first set o’ busted wings ever, now is it?” Korgan Bloodaxe teased as he tweaked the power output on the portable energy generator.


Hey, Korgan! :D Now this I could see happening.


“Korgan? H-how about a little less chatter, and a lot more… ‘shut the hell up’?!”


The other dwarven member of the rescue crew turned and spitted his comrade with an annoyed glare. “Don’t ye worry yer pretty littl’ head off, lass… we’ll ‘ave you outta ‘ere afore ye can say ‘haggis’…” Cromwell commented, trying to reassure the pinned elf.


She sighed. “Haggis. I’m still stuck.”


Good news: I sort of like this Aerie. Bad news: She still doesn't feel much like Aerie to me, what with the relaxed sense of humor, frequently directed at herself, the wisecracking easy banter and all. Sorry for being a nag about it - if you prefer, I'll shut up and not mention it again. This is just my impression after all.


“Beer gut?! Why, ye stinkin' wench, how dare ye! Keep up with my keen axe as it flies towards yer head, more like! Though it'd be like splittin' a hair, skinny as ye are!”


“I'd be startled if a drunk dwarven oaf like yourself could hit the broad side of a barn with your axe. And while we're talking about stench, let's talk about the last time you passed out in your own vomit.”


Now, with Imoen coming up with things like this, it really works, and I very much enjoy this banter. :wink:


A concerned frown from the Lieutenant was the immediate response. “It just occurred to me that someone with a possible head/neck/back injury probably shouldn’t be moved.”


“Aye, tis true… but if this fighter explodes, it’ll kill her just as dead.”


Lovely bedside manner. :D


“Priority…” she muttered, grimly, as she knelt over a burn victim and looped a red tag over the crewman’s wrist. A pair of medical corpsmen gently transferred him to a stretcher and hustled him away. Temporarily done with her work, Jaheira looked up only to see Minsc trundling in her direction with a limp figure cradled in his arms. She waved her hand at him, and he caught the sign. Within seconds, the medic was back on the job.


“No obvious trauma aside from the leg fractures…” she mumbled, more to herself than anyone else. “Slight chance of a concussion, might be some internal hemorrhaging…” she pushed, poked and prodded at the abdomen. “Any pain? Tenderness?”


Ah, love Jaheira's professional attitude. :lol:
Rogues do it from behind.

#9 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 07:07 PM

Appreciate it.


:wink: I'm sure.

Aw, Imoen is lovably loyal.


Loyal to a fault, I'd say... but that's one of the things I like about her. You can't find that kind of dedication just anywhere.

Now this I could see happening.


Yeah... that Korgan line pretty much served as the impetus for the entire chapter. :wink:

Good news: I sort of like this Aerie. Bad news: She still doesn't feel much like Aerie to me, what with the relaxed sense of humor, frequently directed at herself, the wisecracking easy banter and all. Sorry for being a nag about it - if you prefer, I'll shut up and not mention it again. This is just my impression after all.


No worries. I don't consider it nagging; you know what they say about opposing viewpoints giving you more perspective. :lol:

Anyway, obviously, I think the self-deprecation fits her... if you have little to no confidence in yourself, it becomes almost ridiculously easy to slam yourself with everything you say. I guess you start thinking "Hey, everyone else is making fun of me, I might as well do it, too..." So almost your entire sense of humor starts to revolve around self-deprecation... it's actually not all that fun. Sure it's sometimes fun to laugh at yourself, but sometimes it just SUCKS. Anyway, yeah... I wouldn't say it's a "relaxed" sense of humor, just that she's accustomed to people taking shots at her that she decided to just get with the program. It's not a particularly easy-going bit of jocularity, there.

I think Imoen picked up on it, too... which is why despite the fact that Aerie didn't seem all that broken up about it, she still made sure to get Korgan out of the way. Clearly, there's a difference. When Im makes jokes, they're definitely jokes... no malice behind them.

As for the "wisecracking" aspect... well... partly, that -is- just me. I like characters that can hold their own with the verbal fencing. So maybe I did give her a bit more of than than she really should have... but I also think that hanging around Falynn and the rest, you eventually pick up quite a few tricks.

Now, with Imoen coming up with things like this, it really works, and I very much enjoy this banter.


Well, again, I like a good smartass character. :wink:

And I just -really- think that she's got that. I mean, a fair number of the dialogues in the game (This one included) certainly reflect that.

Ah, love Jaheira's professional attitude.


Well, I certainly hope it comes across as professional... I've never actually seen a combat medic do their thing. Triage and field medicine is pretty ugly work, I imagine.

#10 Laufey

Posted 16 March 2004 - 07:13 PM

No worries. I don't consider it nagging; you know what they say about opposing viewpoints giving you more perspective. :wink:


Anyway, obviously, I think the self-deprecation fits her... if you have little to no confidence in yourself, it becomes almost ridiculously easy to slam yourself with everything you say. I guess you start thinking "Hey, everyone else is making fun of me, I might as well do it, too..." So almost your entire sense of humor starts to revolve around self-deprecation... it's actually not all that fun. Sure it's sometimes fun to laugh at yourself, but sometimes it just SUCKS. Anyway, yeah... I wouldn't say it's a "relaxed" sense of humor, just that she's accustomed to people taking shots at her that she decided to just get with the program. It's not a particularly easy-going bit of jocularity, there.


Oh, I *like* it all right. It's just that I don't consider this to be a trait expressed by Aerie in the game, and so it jars me. Now, she may have changed and developed of course, but I think the problem is that since we're dropped right into the middle of the action there is no way for you to show how and why the character has changed.

As for the "wisecracking" aspect... well... partly, that -is- just me. I like characters that can hold their own with the verbal fencing. So maybe I did give her a bit more of than than she really should have... but I also think that hanging around Falynn and the rest, you eventually pick up quite a few tricks.


Make no mistake, I like this sort of character myself. :wink: In this case though, I think it makes Aerie a bit too similar to Imoen.
Rogues do it from behind.

#11 Guest_Theodur_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 07:34 PM

The Vulgar Monkey – a chapterly newsletter of fevered ramblings from the author


It must have Edwin as the publisher, though… I mean, it has a simian in the title! :lol:

1. Alternate title: XVI: “Take these broken wings / And learn to fly again / And learn to live so free…”


Yay for -bad- 80s music!


*groooooooan* 80’s sucked majorly… okay, DM did not suck, but they were the only band worth paying attention to…

2. Back on track next time. Enough of “Ye Olde Wingless Wonder/Whiner,” already! :D


Alright! Looks like Laufey’s putting her garrote away, so I guess I should do the same with my poisoned throwing daggers…

“Wellllll… crap.”


“Don’t say that. P-please don’t say that.”


Theo: Wellllll… crap.

:D

“Relax, Aerie. I’m just gonna need a little help prying you out of here… you’re wedged in there pretty tight, and the rest of the cockpit kinda folded in around you. Don’t worry, we’ll cut you loose. Promise… or my name isn’t Tendra ‘Thunder-Thighs’ Tarisia.”


You have to love how Imoen always manages to find those calming words that would ease your tension and anxiety… :wink:

“Ha! No’ exactly your first set o’ busted wings ever, now is it?” Korgan Bloodaxe teased as he tweaked the power output on the portable energy generator.


:D Nice one, Korgan! I can’t claim to like Korgan a lot, but I am quite fond of his interactions with Aerie :wink:

“Hmph. Lieutenant, yer an o’er-lame excuse fer a member o’ this crew, and I be tired of exertin’ meself to help ye! Next time I let ye all perish, screaming like a ninny as ye does!”


“Pffft. The last time I saw -you- exert yourself over anything was the last slab of pork in the Mess Hall… if you could keep up with me with that beer gut of yours, I’d be amazed…”


“Beer gut?! Why, ye stinkin' wench, how dare ye! Keep up with my keen axe as it flies towards yer head, more like! Though it'd be like splittin' a hair, skinny as ye are!”


“I'd be startled if a drunk dwarven oaf like yourself could hit the broad side of a barn with your axe. And while we're talking about stench, let's talk about the last time you passed out in your own vomit.”


Dwarves are worthy opponents in a match of insults, aren’t they? :wink:

There was a sigh from inside the Sabre’s cockpit after the dwarf had departed. “Uhh… not to be a bother or anything, but…” she coughed, “I… can’t… f-feel my legs anymore. Could we… oh, I don’t know… speed this up a bit? Oh, and in other news, I r-really wonder if Korgan’ll ever get sick of pushing me around.”


Yep, I recognize Aerie here!

Jaheira was crouched down by a group of casualties, sorting out the dead from the wounded, evaluating obvious injuries, and determining who got treated first. “Regulation…” she said, referring to a crewman who had caught several fragments of shrapnel. The lacerations, especially the one that had nearly scalped him completely were serious, but there were some even worse off.


Smart, practical woman this one is… :P

“Good. I’ll need to reduce these fractures before we send you to Sickbay.”


“I sense a ‘but’ coming,” commented Imoen.


In an almost surreal moment, Jaheira hesitated before dropping the hammer. “This… -will- hurt.” She almost sounded… sorry… about that.


Well, if Aerie is a friend, I wouldn’t put it past Jaheira to display some emotion…

Imoen's expression was one of clear concern. “Can’t you… knock her out or something, first?”


“No,” the elf and half-elf said in unison.


Awww… *hides his Hammer of Anesthesia*

The big man nodded gravely, as solemn as a stone pillar. Even Imoen didn’t seem too interested in being “peppy.” She, too, nodded somberly. “I’m on it.” The two Omega troopers placed their hands on Aerie’s shoulders, exerting enough pressure to keep her back flat against the deck, but not enough to hurt her any further. Jaheira would be administering all the pain from this point on.


For some sick, twisted reason I just found the last line ridiculously funny… :D

A faint, almost imperceptible nod from Jaheira was the only reply. She turned, instead, waving at a pair of stretcher-bearing medics. “Get her to Sickbay,” she told them. “Make sure they take care of her.”


The one at the front of the litter nodded soberly as he bent to secure the patient to the backboard. “Yes, ma’am…”


Aerie deserves a good respite after being put through with this ‘ritual’… that sounded awfully painful. :D

“I’ll never understand why you joined the Starfighter Corps…” Imoen commented sadly as the medics lifted the stretcher off the ground.


Although she looked almost deathly pale, Aerie managed a small, wan smile. “I still like to fly. I just had to figure out another way to do it…”


Take up hang-gliding, kid. It’s much safer. :D

#12 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 07:50 PM

It's just that I don't consider this to be a trait expressed by Aerie in the game, and so it jars me.


(Nod) She complains about herself all the time... she never makes jokes about herself... and when someone -does- make a joke, she assumes it was intended to spite her and gets all hurt and defensive.

Yep. I know that feeling. The thing is, hang out with the right people for a while, and be subject of a little friendly teasing (And I really mean friendly, not-intended-to-be-hurtful teasing), and you start to find the jokes funny, too... to the point where you can make them yourself.

Now you're right. There hasn't been room to show that sort of thing, and I've said it before, I don't know if I'll be able to find a spot for it. I'm not... overly thrilled about that, but I'm fairly locked in, as it is. The story's going one way, and I can't just throw up a detour... well, I could, but it'd be -really- jarring. I don't know... maybe a convenient quiz topic will come up some time. Dunno.

In this case though, I think it makes Aerie a bit too similar to Imoen.


Agreed... there is a bit of overlap, there... the same could probably be said about Lynn. I'll try and differentiate those two a bit more.

#13 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 07:59 PM

It must have Edwin as the publisher, though… I mean, it has a simian in the title!


Maybe... but -I- have no relation to the man, myself. :wink:

Alright! Looks like Laufey’s putting her garrote away, so I guess I should do the same with my poisoned throwing daggers…


Mmmmm... garrote... mmmmmmmm...

Almost as good as strangling some poor bum with piano-wire. :wink:

You have to love how Imoen always manages to find those calming words that would ease your tension and anxiety…


It's one of her inherent abilities...

Nice one, Korgan! I can’t claim to like Korgan a lot, but I am quite fond of his interactions with Aerie


What's not to like? He's a dwarf, he's drunk, he's foul-mouthed, and he carries a big axe! :lol:

Oh, that's right... you're racially prejudiced towards elves. Racist. :D

Smart, practical woman this one is…


:wink: She's also received extensive training... this bit right here with the triage is more a function of the training than of any inherent genius. :D

Well, if Aerie is a friend, I wouldn’t put it past Jaheira to display some emotion…


Except that's just it... their relationship is almost always antagonistic... there usually isn't even a measure of mutual respect between them... you can't have a friendship without that, right?

Awww… *hides his Hammer of Anesthesia*


Poor girl's already gotten a knock on the head... possible concussion, remember? Man, you're just mean. :D

If I ever get a puppy, I'm not letting you near it...

For some sick, twisted reason I just found the last line ridiculously funny…


Well, I can see how it could be seen as "absurd"... but laugh-out-loud funny? Yeah, you're just weird. :P

Aerie deserves a good respite after being put through with this ‘ritual’… that sounded awfully painful.


Now that can't be right... you're actually feeling a bit of compassion for her? That's just not possible... something's off, here... am I in the Twilight Zone or something? Or maybe there's a hidden camera somewhere filming my reaction?

Am I on Candid Camera?!

:D

Take up hang-gliding, kid. It’s much safer.


That's more like it... I'm getting this weird... Bogart feel... statement... maybe we oughta get you a cigar. :D

#14 Guest_VigaHrolf_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 08:20 PM

It's just that I don't consider this to be a trait expressed by Aerie in the game, and so it jars me.


(Nod) She complains about herself all the time... she never makes jokes about herself... and when someone -does- make a joke, she assumes it was intended to spite her and gets all hurt and defensive.

Yep. I know that feeling. The thing is, hang out with the right people for a while, and be subject of a little friendly teasing (And I really mean friendly, not-intended-to-be-hurtful teasing), and you start to find the jokes funny, too... to the point where you can make them yourself.


Good point Alpha. Self deprecating humor is certainly a very likely avenue for the person with limited self confidence. I practiced it for quite a while until I came to the realization of how absolutely fabulous I am. :lol: :P :wink:

But giong back to Aerie, considering the crew she's around and her friends, I can see her slowly but surely developing such a sense of humor as part self defense mechanism part just being part of that group. A person tends to take on some of the characteristics of a group of friends, and in this case, tis a bunch of nutters who never met a joke they didn't like. :D And if Imoen's a close friend.. well... its pretty hard to not have a sense of humor when confronted by her. :D :D

Now you're right. There hasn't been room to show that sort of thing, and I've said it before, I don't know if I'll be able to find a spot for it. I'm not... overly thrilled about that, but I'm fairly locked in, as it is. The story's going one way, and I can't just throw up a detour... well, I could, but it'd be -really- jarring. I don't know... maybe a convenient quiz topic will come up some time. Dunno.


*shrug* I don't see it as such a glaring difference man, it seems to fit considering who the other characters are. I mean, it is Aerie at the core, just a different flavor of her. I mean, some of it is how I interpret the character as having more inner strength just from her story of survival, but I don't want to get into one of those classic Aerie suxors/roxors debates. But a key point here is, we don't know how your Aerie lost her wings, went through the Academy, learned to fly Sabres and as such what effect that had on her character too.

As to backstory.. well that can always be added in very piecemeal, but only so that it doesn't wreck the flow. Quiz topics are great for that. And as to Aerie's backstory, if you ever want to write it, I'll read it :D :D)

In this case though, I think it makes Aerie a bit too similar to Imoen.


Agreed... there is a bit of overlap, there... the same could probably be said about Lynn. I'll try and differentiate those two a bit more.


Lynn and Imoen are a bit of frick and frack, but the deliniation is clear. Imoen = PURE EVIL, Lynn = EVIL :wink: :wink:

#15 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 16 March 2004 - 09:51 PM

Good point Alpha. Self deprecating humor is certainly a very likely avenue for the person with limited self confidence. I practiced it for quite a while until I came to the realization of how absolutely fabulous I am.


I still practice it. Sometimes it's fun, sometimes it sucks... and sometimes you can make a career out of it. Ever watch Conan O'Brian? :wink:

But giong back to Aerie, considering the crew she's around and her friends, I can see her slowly but surely developing such a sense of humor as part self defense mechanism part just being part of that group. A person tends to take on some of the characteristics of a group of friends, and in this case, tis a bunch of nutters who never met a joke they didn't like.


Exactly... like I said, the gang teases her... mercilessly, it's true, but none of Falynn's or Imoen's or even Jan's jokes were intended to be genuinely hurtful. It's just the kind of silly back and forth that you sometimes get between certain friends. After a while, that sort of thing sticks... and if you were a bit too high-strung, you start to loosen up.

And if Imoen's a close friend.. well... its pretty hard to not have a sense of humor when confronted by her.


Dead on. It's a requirement, really. Really, your options are limited. If you don't already have a whacked-out sense of humor, you develop one... or you go certifiably insane. Someone like Jaheira is going the first route... as in, she's developing a sense of humor... (though I imagine she already kinda had one to begin with)

For someone like Mazzy... well, she's currently taking the other fork... hopefully she'll get wise soon. :wink:

As to backstory.. well that can always be added in very piecemeal, but only so that it doesn't wreck the flow. Quiz topics are great for that.


They are, indeed... I may just get to that some time... but I'd like to make sure I've got it straight in my own head before I really starting messing with it.

Lynn and Imoen are a bit of frick and frack, but the deliniation is clear. Imoen = PURE EVIL, Lynn = EVIL


One's Evil Incarnate, and the other's just Evil con Carne? :wink:

#16 Guest_The Blue Sorceress_*

Posted 17 March 2004 - 06:16 AM

“Lieutenant, no! There’s still a pair of Javelin missiles strapped to the port wing. They could explode at any-“


A yes, but there's also two jet jockeys strapped in there too. Keep that in mind, fella.

“Relax, Aerie. I’m just gonna need a little help prying you out of here… you’re wedged in there pretty tight, and the rest of the cockpit kinda folded in around you. Don’t worry, we’ll cut you loose. Promise… or my name isn’t Tendra ‘Thunder-Thighs’ Tarisia.”


Immy, that's *not* your name.

“Korgan? H-how about a little less chatter, and a lot more… ‘shut the hell up’?!”


Yeah, how about that, Korgan?

She sighed. “Haggis. I’m still stuck.”


I like spunk Aerie. She's funny.

“No,” the elf and half-elf said in unison.


Llyr, startled, looked back and forth between the two faces, expecting an answer from one or the other. Aerie took the initiative. “Possible concussion, remember? Besides, I have -bad- hypotension…”


“In Common?”


“My blood pressure would win limbo contests.”


I feel your pain, Aerie. I wake up in the morning and if I don't get a cup of coffee to up my blood pressure I'm 80% certain to pass out.

“I’ll never understand why you joined the Starfighter Corps…” Imoen commented sadly as the medics lifted the stretcher off the ground.


Although she looked almost deathly pale, Aerie managed a small, wan smile. “I still like to fly. I just had to figure out another way to do it…”


Great chapter, Alpha, I thoroughly enjoyed it,
-Blue

#17 Guest_AlphaMonkey_*

Posted 17 March 2004 - 08:33 AM

A yes, but there's also two jet jockeys strapped in there too. Keep that in mind, fella.


He does have it in mind... he's just making a value judgment: Namely, Imoen's life is more important than whoever's in the Sabre. Can't say I blame him... much. :twisted:

Immy, that's *not* your name.


Harlequin: "It's not? Then why is it tatooed on my bu- I mean- ... um..." (Cough) "Well, that is... er..."

I like spunk Aerie. She's funny.


Funny is good. I like funny, too.

I feel your pain, Aerie. I wake up in the morning and if I don't get a cup of coffee to up my blood pressure I'm 80% certain to pass out.


(Wince) Ouch. That... that blows. Caffeine dependency kinda sucks.

Not to rub salt in the wound or anything, but I'm seriously glad I didn't become a coffee addict when I hit college. I seriously thought I would. Summer before my freshman year, I started forcing myself to drink the stuff thinking I'd eventually need it just to get by. It never turned out that way, thankfully.

Great chapter, Alpha, I thoroughly enjoyed it


Cool. Thanks, muchly.

#18 Guest_The Blue Sorceress_*

Posted 17 March 2004 - 09:58 AM

I feel your pain, Aerie. I wake up in the morning and if I don't get a cup of coffee to up my blood pressure I'm 80% certain to pass out.


(Wince) Ouch. That... that blows. Caffeine dependency kinda sucks.


Not to rub salt in the wound or anything, but I'm seriously glad I didn't become a coffee addict when I hit college. I seriously thought I would. Summer before my freshman year, I started forcing myself to drink the stuff thinking I'd eventually need it just to get by. It never turned out that way, thankfully.


Actually, the coffee came *after* the fainting as sort of a quick cure. I never touched the stuff before hand, but now, besides the fact that it all but eliminates my morning dizzy spells I just sort of like the stuff (so long as it has sufficient creamer and sugar, of course.)




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