bones beat me to this, but here's my take...bup bup bup bup bup bup bup bup
The high whine of the huey's rotors breaks through my sleep. Another shipment of noders. Time to get to work.
I throw on my lucky apron and ready some sterilized gloves. As I run out, I see that the huey's already being unloaded; seven new noders. Seven new patients. Time to get to work.
They don't even have names anymore. Just wounds. In the corner sits a young man whose leg was severed below the knee, but the blood was staunched by a quick-thinking soldier with a flamethrower. This will only hurt for a second. The wound was cauterized. He's much better off than the rest. Gangrene. Gangrene haunts the rest of them. Gangrene haunts me.
Name a body part - I've amputated it. Legs, arms, fingers, toes, cutting off someone's nose to save their face. All because of gangrene. It's painful, painful to experience, painful to watch, painful to do. Out here in the field, do we get any medical equipment? No. Supplies are too low, ammunition is needed at the front. But I was able to mod a circular saw to fit our needs. That's what we use. That and morphine. The patient gets most of the M, but I get my cut - payment for services rendered.
What happened? It was so simple in the beginning. Just a family fight - a few bruises, that's all. Rabbit punches all around. But then, the first few waves of deleted nodes came through. Sides were taken, strategies plotted. Nodespace divvied up along lines of demarcation. The weapons got ugly. Things really got to a head when CowboyNeal split for one side, Hemos to another... both used Slashdot to net a constant stream of new blood. Those new to the scene were immediately conscripted, thrown in the back of a truck and driven off for 're-education'. Then they're sent to the front lines, and then shipped back here, minus some flesh, minus some humanity.
nate tried his best, but the server was moved in the dead of night. Access codes were changed. No one would end this war with a flick of a power switch.
I don't even know who's side I'm on. Just doing the Lord's work, just doing the Lord's work, healing, living for that next dose of M. Patients fly in, and then patients fly out, either returned to the front or buried out back. I still remember when they brought knifegirl in. I had a drink in her honor.
The whine of the buzz-saw starts up. I brace for the screams.