The Turtle jumps to hyperspace without even a stutter. The ship settles in to the jump, and soon the familiar sounds of the jump drive are low and steady.
By the time Seven returns to the medical bay, Pepra is blinking furiously under the bright light that Dr Eliasan has set up. Clearly unused to a ship's medical bay, she has been configuring the bay to her satisfaction. At least, as much as a ship's medbay could be reconfigured. Surgical implements were out on the table, as were an anesthetic patch, the hyposprayer she got out first, and just about any other tool the medbay and her own gear could provide.
With a bit of a glare at Valoris, she walks to the intercom, "Yes, only I'm more of a researcher and less than a surgeon. You'll be lucky to have use of that arm when I'm through. I can develop hyposprayers and stimulants, but surgery on a crippling wound like yours ... that takes a lot of training."
She punches the intercom, and the concern is plain in her voice, "Valoris' wound is quite bad and I'm not a skilled surgeon. Is there anyone with medical experience on board who can at least help me?"
"What happened?" Comes a moan from the other bed as Pepra sits upright, shakily, "I feel like a gundark hugged my skull!"
