Anselm grinned sloppily, popping the seals on his helmet and squatting next to the shuttle; it had been a while since everyone, especially the new additions, had heard the marine's voice without the distortion his suit's speakers and comm had provided, "the entire left arm has to go, think you can make it fast, Mayhew?"
A ship's medic walked up to the two marines and held out a datajockey, "thank the gods, I was starting to feel like half of a corpse," he muttered, quickly signing the electronic form and raising his chin for the officer.
"This'll sting," he said, pressing the business end of a hypolathe to the Albino's jugular.
"What, no lolipop?" Anselm asked hoarsely after catching his breath.
The medical officer ignored the comment, "You're going out with one hand?"
"I'll manage, just have some metal waiting for me when I get back," Anselm responded. The officer nodded with pursed lips and made his way out of the bay. The Albino glanced back at Alexandra, "where were we?"