Seizure Part 10: Picking up the Pieces

	Dr. Karen Rhodes looked at what remained of Ratislav O'Muirdagh's arm. She had few
options. She could not consult with him as he was anesthetized. She would have to make the
decision for him.
	She knew why he was mumbling "twenty-five percent." That was the magic number for
artificial tissue replacement. If any limb had more than 25% artificial tissue it was considered
an artificial limb and anyone with that much would be taken off combat duty. For O'Muirdagh that
would mean being taken off the flight roster, like Cookie was.
	She reviewed her options. She could regrow his muscle tissue and give him real tissue,
but the tissue would be immature and weak. He would be too weak to fly for sometime and the weak
arm may never properly regain its strength.
	Alternatively she could replace all lost tissue with artificial tissue, but his arm
would have more than 25%, since she had no option but an artificial bone and that would count
against him.
	She had already begun growing new skin for him. It would be younger than the rest of his
skin and discolored, but it would help in the percentage.
	Finally she decided to start growing replacement muscles. She would put in an artificial
bone and enough artificial tissue that his loss of strength would be minimal. She hoped he would
be below 25%.

	Lieutenant Hiatt returned to her engine room to find that it was still in good shape.
There were red lights flashing everywhere, and consoles flashing warnings that one of the
engines was dead, but nothing was leaking. 
	Her staff followed her in and got to work getting the ship underway.

	In the sickbay Petty Officer 3rd Class Marcy Sparkin opened her eyes. Dr. Vela was
standing over her. "Doctor? Is everything okay? I can't feel my legs?"
	Dr. Vela smiled down at her. "Don't move. I'm sorry to have to tell you this, but you
were very badly hurt in the fight. Your legs were very badly damaged. I'm afraid there was too
much damage, we couldn't save them."
	"What's going to happen to me?"
	"We're preparing a pair of artificial legs for you. It's only from the calf down. If you
want we can make them look just like your old legs."
	"You can't regrow them?"
	"No, they would be too weak. Now rest. We'll be operating in a few hours."
	Marcy closed her eyes and felt very small.

	On the bridge things were returning to normal. Most of the damage was easily repaired,
but only once they got back to the Io base. The majority of bridge personnel were alive and
uninjured. Only the records officer was dead and Xanatos was injured. 
	Jonathan pointed to his sling. "You forget how strong those Neos are until one of them
grabs you and shakes you around a bit."
	Hagen turned to face the XO. "I thought you required surgery? Something about damage to
your shoulder."
	"I do, but there are more pressing matters. My shoulder is immobilized. I'll be fine
until Dr. Rhodes clears some more pressing cases."
	"Glad to have you back. Amy says were ready to move out. If you'll give the order,
Commander."
	"Aye-aye, Captain." He turned to the bridge. Take us back to Io base, best possible
speed.

	Captain Tom Jose looked over his troops. Some were missing. Private Dagger was dead and
Private Dyvin was in the sickbay with a moderate injury. He would be off duty for a few weeks,
but there was no doubt the Normandy was out of action for at least as long.
	"You did good, people. Excellent work." He turned to Private Coldworth. "Especially you,
Coldworth. And Dyvin."
	"We'll have a private ceremony to give Dagger a proper jumptroop send off tomorrow. Now
we need to help get this ship back in shape. Lets move out, people."

	Commander Hobbes reviewed his troops. "No news on Ratislav yet."
	Most of the pilots had their heads down. The mood in the room was sullen. They all knew
what was at stake for Ratislav, but they also knew he would be losing a lot less than many
crewmembers had.
	"Most of us lost our frames. Remember that there was someone in them that was doing our
job for us."

	Cookie walked into the mess. Ramses was there, as was Lydia, the ships female cook.
"Where is Brian? And I thought Jim would be healthy enough to cook."
	"Brian died while you were taking sickbay. Jim is presumed dead following the fight for
the last shuttle. Most of the bodies were not found."
	Rick walked in. He nodded to Cookie in greeting.
	"Cookie nodded back. What do you need, Chief?"
	"I wanted to tell you about your other cook, Jim. I saw him in the compartment. He is
the one who got the bomb off the ship.
	Cookie's mind slowly put the events together and realized what the explosion he saw must
have been. "I see. Thank you, Chief."
	Rick nodded and left. As he walked out he passed by Captain Reynosa and the rest of the
crew from Outpost 14. 
	"Captain." Cookie was surprised to see them in the mess.
"I wanted to come down and see if you heard about John."	
	Cookie furrowed his brow. "No, what happened to him?"
	Commander Graves answered him. "He took my frame and rammed it into the last shuttle.
Detonated his frame inside it. Saved the Normandy."
	Cookie remembered the explosion and tried to connect it to the slightly cowardly man he
knew on Outpost 14. He also caught how Graves called the frame Tomlinson's.
	"He sacrificed himself for the ship," Captain Reynosa added.
	"He wondered how he would act in a real fight. Now we know. Thank you."
Captain Reynosa looked like she wanted to say something else, but thought the better of it.
Instead she just nodded and left.
Cookie turned to what remained of his staff. "We still have a lot of people on board and they
need to eat. We were preparing a meal when this started. We have a lot of hungry mouths to
feed," he paused, "and we are short two men to prepare it."

	Colonel Richter looked at what remained of her staff. Only six of them were alive, most
of them had died in e-frames they were never meant to fly. She tried to speak, but couldn't. All
she could do was week silently.

	And in the vast blackness of space the Normandy, with her five remaining engines ablaze,
silently drifted home.