Snippet #1631396

Being last to his seat was not a good idea. Varek barely had time to secure himself when the dim light had sent them off hurtling into God-knows-where and he didn't even have space (no pun intended) to think -- before he knew it, he'd blanked, blacked, and woke.

A moan escaped his lips. He didn't even want to try to move. A faint voice, male: “Help! I'm stuck, dammit!” His first instinct was to bolt upright, but a sharp pain coursed through his shoulder, arm. Broken? He could barely see, but as he yanked the belt off, it was swollen to the touch. He winced. He worked his fingers into a fist, then exhaled loudly, frowning. If it wasn't broken, it was fractured, and he wondered how to get to his medical supplies -- or if they were still there.

"It's the Doc," he called to the voice. He struggled to his feet, gripping the seat with his good arm, keeping the injured one close to his chest. "Keep talking to me, tell me where you are."