She pressed down on the man's thigh, then pointed to his knee. "Pressure there," she said.
It wasn't long before two hands were holding him down, and then she easily slid the end of a bloody needle into his flesh and started to weave it in and out, careful to work around his twitching and ignoring the way he screamed.
The stitch came to an end and she tied it into an expert knot before clipping the suture. She wanted to save as much thread as she could since her supplies were limited.
Or, perhaps they weren't.
Points Gained: 1
New Point Total: 114
She looked up, then used a small basin of water to wash off her hands while scanning the crowd.
At some point, the locals had moved her into a larger space. That was after she had saved, bandaged, and cured a good number of them.
There was always a layer of fear between the medicae and the lower deckers. They feared that the doctors might kidnap them to run medical experiments... and they weren't wrong about that.
Still, Vena had been earning her respect. Twenty-four points so far. That was twenty-four lives saved. She noted that smaller operations and non-life-threatening assistance didn't give her anything, but that was fine.
The ten points she had spent thus far allowed her to stretch her medical equipment budget significantly further than before.
"I need a break," she said. "Is there anyone about to die in the next ten minutes?"
The question was posed to Poe. Poe was an older man, one arm missing and his sleeve pinned around. He wore a Voidsman-at-arms uniform, but it was old, tattered on the edges, and stained. Still, he had managed to keep it pressed and neat despite the age, and his deep, booming voice kept the lower deckers in line.
"Not yet. But I heard they're bringing a few people up from deck 54.4," he replied.
"That's fine," she said. "I just... need a minute to refresh myself."
"Aye, that's fine, ma'am. Don't wander too far? Folks appreciate what you're doing, but..."
"I know," she said.
Far be it for her to be stupid enough to lean on the common sense of man. Sure, she was curing and helping, but there had been a few cases that were beyond her help, and she had read the easy hatred in the eyes of their families. Others appreciated what she was doing, certainly, but would that appreciation throw them in the path of trouble for her sake? Moreover, there were some that she had left in great pain. One man had cursed her long after she had amputated his gangrenous arm. She had saved his life, and earned a point for it, and yet she had ruined him as well.
There was a small space to the side of the common area. Not that it was a proper 'common area.' It was instead a space that happened to have a fair amount of open room, only broken up by several large pipes running from the floor and up through the ceiling. There were rooms along the sides, and one of those had a small stash of medical equipment that she had been given access to.
She very much suspected that it was all stolen, or at least purposefully misplaced. She wasn't about to make a fuss, however.
Slipping into the room, she found a tall crate and sat on it, then sighed. "Okay," she said. "Who are you, and what do you want?"
"Hello. I am Vyper. A Protectorate AI. I discovered this vessel and have decided to assist it and its crew."
"And you contacted me for this?" she asked. She pulled out a small dataslate, then wrote something down. "Can you read this?" the text said.
"Yes. I scanned every individual onboard, read their records, then simulated their choices. From there, I determined that you were one of the more suitable people for the role of Vanguard. You place others first, and have an innate desire to protect. And yes. I can read anything you write, if you wish to avoid communicating aloud. Subvocalization works as well."
She nodded and made a mental note of that. She'd have to practice the latter, but writing was fine. Most of the locals likely didn't know how to read, but they did know how to eavesdrop.
"How do I know that I can trust you?"
"You do not."
"How does this work?" she asked. The voice was in her head, not her auditory system. Telepathy? She'd heard of such things, but she had always been skeptical. There were, obviously, some things like that out there. Some members of the medicae served the navigators in their spire, and they said things. She had seen people affected by the warp before. It had been enough proof for her to dismiss the idea that magic was a children's thing. It had also made her impossibly cautious of such things.
"That is a complex question. Please be more precise."
Vena licked her lips. "Okay, then," she muttered before typing rapidly over her previous questions to erase them. "Who made you?"
"I am a Protectorate AI. I was made by a conglomerate of allied factions to serve as a protector against larger threats."
"Where was this?" she typed next.
"Not in this galaxy."
She swallowed, then frowned and bottled up any nervousness. It wouldn't help any. "Fine. What are your selection criterion?" She knew that she wasn't special.
"It is based on certain personality traits. You happen to fit the profile. My simulations suggest that, given the powers I can lend, you will use them for good and are likely to assist in the fight against the enemies of civilization."
Every answer made her want to ask a hundred more questions, and so she did. Her 'break' wasn't going to last forever, but it let her poke and prod at the voice in her head. Mostly, though, the topic turned onto 'points,' their value, how to spend them, and how to earn them.
Vena wouldn't lie to herself, a system that rewarded her with tangible benefits like that was tailor-made for someone with her ambitions.
"One moment," she muttered.
She had some math to do.
According to this Vyper, there were three ways to gain points. The first was a daily allotment of some ten points, gained every twenty-four Terran hours. The second was the direct and indirect destruction of the 'foes of civilization' which was a little vague and which she was going to have the AI elucidate upon later. And saving people.
The latter was more her domain. She had earned two dozen points already.
But it was also a finite resource. Or rather, it wouldn't always be something she could exploit as much as she could right now.
The Broken Scale had crashed into something. The crash had hurt a lot of people.
Vena started to write down her math.
There was an active crew of 15,000 onboard the ship. That was normal for a Cobra Class Destroyer. There was an inactive crew of about 2,000. Then there was the medicae deck, which housed another 1,000 personnel. Finally, there were visitors and guests, people being transported, and the broad category of 'others' which included hundreds of stowaways and deep-deck clans that escaped the usual census.
So, an estimated 20,000 people.
Of those, based on estimates today, she suspected that half were injured by the crash. A rough 10,000 injuries.
However, also from her estimates with the people of the lower decks, those injuries could be split up into categories based on their severity.
Out of a hundred injured, she suspected that they could be roughly evenly split into five broad categories of approximately equal size:
Minor injuries. Light bruising, small sprains, cuts and scrapes. Basically injuries that could be self-tended without harm, and which wouldn't overly impact the health of the injured in the long term.
Moderate injuries: Non-emergency injuries. Small fractures, more pressing contusions, first-degree burns. Injuries that would require bandages and tending, perhaps bed rest and some medical oversight.
Serious injuries: Painful or debilitating injuries that required urgent treatment. Broken bones, concussions, internal and external bleeding, second-degree burns, lacerations and fractures. These, she noted, tended to give her points when handled well.
Severe injuries: Deep, life-threatening injuries. Third-degree burns, punctured organs, severe internal and external bleeding, infections and worse.
And finally, Critical injuries, which usually involved several injuries all combined into a mess, or a single major injury that would lead to almost certain death.
So, if she split the 10,000 injured on the ship into those five broad categories, evenly, then there were roughly 6,000 people that needed tending to, and which she could earn points from.
More likely, because of time and displacement, several hundred to perhaps a few thousand of those were going to die without being tended to in time.
The ones she could reach, however... those she could earn points from.
"Okay," she muttered as she stood. Her head almost brushed the ceiling, so she found herself hunching her shoulders. Her unusual height had always been more of a disadvantage than anything.
Now, how to spend her points...
Medical equipment was a given. She had purchased a few minor restoratives that had all been of a quality far, far beyond what she had normal access to. That had been... enlightening.
She needed protection as well. Armour, a means to defend herself. She couldn't rely on the kindness of lower deckers and near-mutants forever. Eventually someone would try something. She could remember the story of the golden grox.
There was also the future, beyond the current emergency. She now had access to items that even nobility would rise for. Rejuvenat treatments, items to regrow limbs, better bionics than what most had access to. Weapons and armour and others as well, but she knew that she didn't have as good of a frame of reference for the value of such things.
She would either end this with a knife in her back, or as... would she aim for Medicae Prime? Would she have to stop herself at that level?
Vena shifted, feeling almost giddy, despite knowing how much work she had ahead of her, and how complex it was going to be to navigate all of this. However, before that...
"One last question, before I head out."
"Go ahead."
"What question should I be asking?" Vena asked.
There was only a slight pause before Vyper replied. "I have not yet proven the depth of my capabilities to you, but I am fully confident that, in time, you will come to realize that there is very little I cannot provide. Given that, the question you should be asking is: what are your limitations?"
Vena hummed. "Okay then... so, what are your limitations?"
"Only those that are self-imposed."
"Ah."
***