The Hunt Begins.

[Dusty Lens]

Oh **** it burns my veins my suit popped a seal Im leaking atmo Im blind oh it burns I cant move oh **** Im finally going to die oh it burns Im not dying it wont stop

Eustace you mucked up the dosage! Put him back under before the breaks a rib on the restraints! Move! Sarah! SARAH, stand by with adrenalin if he goes into shock."

Cant move.. Cant breath.. This is it, so heav.

William Fisher couldnt open his eyes. The sensation of the attempt was there, but something was holding the lids in place. But he could hear the silent hum of machinery, and a jittery beeping that paced with the tune bounding in his chest. It sounded like a medbay, but it smelled like the kind of rooms where hed seen plenty of prisoners sat during his A sudden pain in his arm followed by the hiss of a hypo broke him out of his revere.

Well, hes awake and the last of the drugs should be washed out of him shortly. An unfamiliar voice began. Unlikely that there to be any lasting damage, but he was floating out there for a while. Suit recyclers and attention or not, he suffered from severe dehydration, hypothermia and exposure. Hes all yours, lets go ladies and gents.

There was much commotion of boots stomping across a dura-steel deck amidst the screeching protest of ill maintained wheels, finalized by the slam of what could only be a door designed to maintain pressure. At least one person remained, even breathing apparent above his pounding heart in the rooms otherwise dead silence.

Will suddenly felt sick and attempted to turn his head, but found it secured in place, an involuntary panic proved that he was restrained and when he opened his mouth to ask the inevitable questions little more was produced little more than a dry hissing rasp from his throat.

This was shy of optimal.