Chapter Thirty-Eight - Boo-Boos and Body Bags

Chapter Thirty-Eight - Boo-Boos and Body Bags

Chapter Thirty-Eight - Boo-Boos and Body Bags

"It's easy for the average person to forget that the idea of a dedicated emergency-response force is actually relatively new.

Firefighters have been around for millenia. Policing forces for almost as long. But paramedics and emergency services only fully modernised with the 1966 White Papers to push them along.

Current EMT training is less than a hundred years old. It's a developing system that's far from perfect, and still had much room to improve.

Which is why the Toronto Paramedic Services is now instituting obligatory firearms training into its basic paramedics training courses."

--TPS Newsletter, 2028

***

The first thing I noticed was that my mech now had a scattering of scuffs all across its armour.

The small-arms fire hadn't penetrated anything. At least, I didn't think it did. There were some parts, especially on the side that wasn't finished being repaired, that lacked the sensors that would let me know if anything was damaged.

While plugged into the mech, that entire side read as a stream of errors and unresolved issues. A few more holes poked into it would get lost with all of the other warnings.

I ran my metal hand over the surface of the mech's ribs. A few bits of melted bullet clinked off the surface. That was going to need some looking at. I was pretty sure the stealth stuff would be mostly unaffected, but this might also mean a few tiny black spots that weren't camouflaged when I moved.

"For fuck's sake, I just fixed this thing," I muttered.

Add about twenty-six hours to the repair time

"Just for these scuffs?" I asked.

And because of the damage to the not-fully-repaired leg. Some of the warnings you chose to ignore were highlighting issues within.

I cursed under my breath, but... yeah, that was par for the course. In an ideal world I would have finished everything, then ran the mech through some light testing before going back in and fixing anything that needed touch-ups. Then I'd be able to call it properly done. This was... not entirely ideal.

I turned away from the mech and took in the scene on the street. It was, in a word, bad.

When I arrived I'd initially been more focused on finding Rac and making sure she was alive. I discovered her firing blindly at a warmech designed to take on heavy riot protection duties. It had a cannon that would turn her into a smear and it was rolling right at her.

So I'd taken it out, and the other two light mecha. Ripping apart the gun emplacements on the APCs and technicals parked around here was quick and easy too, and that left nothing but some security drones and guys with small arms.

I'd made a bit of a mess cleaning up the mechs, but the place was already far past being just messy. I took in a few bodies. More injured.

A few mercs had crawled out of cover and were helping their pals. I had a lot of them giving me looks, but as long as I wasn't aggressive, I was pretty sure they wouldn't run just yet.

"You're Rac's friend!" Coco said. "From last time. You're a samurai!"

"Uh, yes, and yeah," I agreed.

"Coco... likes Samurai," Rac explained.

"Hell yeah, I do," Coco said. "Sign my tits!"

I blinked. "Do you have a pen?"

Coco's face fell. I don't think I'd ever seen someone look so sad so quickly before.

"Ah, I'm sure we can find a marker," I said. Coco's grin came back, a little more reserved, and a little more pained. "Myalis, got something cheap for... little boo-boo wounds?"

Yes. I have boo-boo treatments, Catherine.

I caught a little box out of the air, then read the package before rolling my eyes. Boo-boo treatment: 1x Dose. I tossed it to Coco and noted that it had just cost me a whole point. It looked like it was mostly just a bandage and maybe some antiseptic powder. "Put that on your leg before you bleed out," I said. "The paramedics will be too busy once they get here to look at you."

"Thanks," Coco said. "So, last time... why didn't you tell us you were a samurai? Rac, why didn't you tell us you knew a samurai?"

"I have my reasons," Rac said. She sounded perfectly petulant about it and wasn't meeting her team's gazes.

I noticed that Rac was looking a little pale, and her hands were shaking, just a little. I wouldn't trust her with a gun right now. It looked like she was crashing from the adrenaline. I sent Myalis a quick text, and felt something settle in the pocket of my coat. I pulled it out, and handed the can to Rac bottom-first. "Drink," I said. "You need some sugar in you, and something cool."

Rac hesitated, but took the can. It didn't take a genius to know that it wasn't normal-grade shit, not with the anime-style cats on the can, but she took it anyway and drank up.

Food would do her good. At least, that's what I'd do for a kitten if they were distressed. Food was a good way to remember that things weren't that desperate. "So, I never really expected to get a call from you. Happy you did, because this looks like a clusterfuck and a half, but, uh, what happened here?"

"We were on a job," Garter said. He was standing a lot taller now, trying to look more professional than the relaxed cool guy mood he was in last time.

"A job?" I asked.

"We were getting your prosthetics," Rac said.

Everyone looked at her.

I slowly turned and took in the carnage. "What? All this shit for some prosthetics?"

"And your pay," Rac said. There was a bit of accusation there.

I tossed my arms up. How was I supposed to know that a bunch of people would go nuts over twenty points? The goal was to get info more than anything, not start a small war. "Man, people are stupid," I said.

***