[He doesn't know what he can say to the apology. There's nothing to be sorry about: it happened, and he'll do what he has to do to keep going. Self-pity can only weigh him down.]
[ It's not an apology; he knows he couldn't be everywhere at once on the battlefield, but that doesn't stop him from feeling regret that Marco's been injured. They might not know each other very well, loss of a limb is deathly serious. ]
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
And you're here about a mechanical replacement.
[ It's a statement of fact. In his mind, he's already begun thinking about specs. ]
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
Have you contact Neheda already?
[ He's not unwilling. But Mothership has been known to bring back the dead, and a real arm will always be better than a false one. ]
i just realized i accidentally typoed one of my on-purpose typoes...doh
I am. And I have. It doesn't look like anything can be done. Only as a mission freebi e.
FROM: bott.marco@cdc.org
You can help me? I'd be in Debbie to you.
FROM: bott.marco@cdc.org
Indebted to you.
[Back home, the most anyone could offer is a wooden stand-in, lifeless and no more useful than the stump he's left with. The possibility of a working replacement is more than he could have hoped for.]
[ He does show up ten minutes later, carrying his toolkit, a datapad, and measuring tape. He takes care not to bother any of the staff while he moves to stand by Marco's bed, on the side of his good arm. His expression is sympathetic. ]
It's too bad we don't have access to genetic repair. How do you feel?
[Marco is sitting up in bed, looking worn out and disheveled but he slaps on a smile to cover all that up. Harder to dismiss is the hollow sleeve hanging at his side.]
Hey, Noh-Varr. I feel...okay. [Because that's the most generic term there is, something you can say without saying much at all.]
[ His expression doesn't soften as his eyes slide over the free sleeve, almost businesslike. He takes the 'okay' at face value, in a 'I'll get over it' kind of sense, which seems sensible to him, so he nods. He puts his datapad down on the side of the cot, wondering how to express this. ]
Each of our bodies contains a...kind of 'blueprint' of what they're meant to be like. Height, hair and eye color, skin tone, length of the nose, and so on. This blueprint, which is out genetic sequence, guides our growth and our aging. It's possible to essentially reverse damage by 'reminding' the body to follow that initial genetic code.
[ A beat, while he lets that sink in. ] Do you follow? It's not a panacea--the more extensive the damage the longer the process and the higher the risk of permanent mutation--but it's often helpful.
[ Explanation done, he motions. ] Arm out, please.
[He doesn't mind the calculating approach: it stokes confidence in Noh-Varr's capabilities, and Marco isn't seeking pity anyway. The explanation is an avalanche of new terms and information, but he listens carefully to try to piece it all together in his brain.]
I think I get it... [The big picture, anyway.] It sounds a little bit like what the nanite shots can do, right? Just more advanced.
[He holds his arm out straight in compliance with Noh-Varr's request]
[ He does, too, pushing Marco's sleeve up until his shoulder is exposed. Luckily the fabric stays put, giving Noh-Varr time to pull out his measuring tape. ]
Nanites are very small robots that integrate the body's cells. Genetic repair might involve nanites as part of the process, or radiation.
[All he can do is nod to show that he's listening, although it's all a bit over his head. He's grounded in matters of more immediate concern. After a moment, while Noh-Varr sets to work, he speaks up.]
Hey, um... I don't know a lot about prosthetics, or what's even possible, but...I'll be able to use the maneuver gear again, right? It's just that the controls are finicky-- It requires a high level of precision.
[ Noh-Varr doesn't really expect Marco to understand; to be honest, it's not something he'd given much thought to before, much like a human might use a toaster every day, and not be able to explain how it works. Noh-Varr is an engineer of spaceships. He understands the intricacies of epiphany engines and concept-fuel and how to harness the raw radiation that flows uninterrupted in the vacuum of space. His understanding of the body is limited to those things he can destroy, the placement of easily-snapped bones, how to twist nerves and take advantage of soft tissue.
Watching Marco, his hesitation, the uncertainty in his question, hammers some strange truth home. This will be the first time he'll be using his skills to heal. He's not building a weapon, a trap, a barrier, a vehicle; he's building a part of Marco's life back. Looking up from where he has his tape measure around the other man's bicep, he nods, confident. ]
Like you never lost it.
[ He feels like it's a promise he can make because to do any less would be failure, in his eyes--and he refuses to suffer failure. ]
[His faith in the other man might be blind - the whole area of prosthetics is a shot in the dark to him, and he's never seen what Noh-Varr is capable of creating. But he wants to believe that there is room for him to move forward.
There's little else to it but stubbornness.
He might never have pulled through the gushing torrent of his own blood exiting him had he lost his arm to a Titan back home. (And it was so rare to sustain injuries any less grave than death, when it came down to the imbalanced equation of fragile bones versus guillotine-like teeth. He's already tested the hypothesis.) If he could defeat the odds there, then the injury he'd be left with would stump him. It would be the end of the road. The military has little use for a rookie stripped of the ability to fight.
Here and now, though, he takes Noh-Varr's words for a promise that he can be more than his missing parts.]
...Thank you. [The relief that breaks across his voice come through clearly.] I can't even begin to say how much this means to me. It's like getting a second chance, you know?
[ He wasn't expecting to feel real pressure at this, to be honest. He's never balked at a project before, and he's build more complex things. But there's something about Marco's keen confidence that fills him with the fear of failure. ]
You can thank me when this is over, and you have an arm again.
[ He smiles casually, full of confidence, though how much of that is real and how much is for Marco's benefit is unclear. He fakes it well enough that it doesn't matter. ]
How much can you feel, in the stump?
[ He absolutely won't touch Marco's bandage, because that's a surefire way to get kicked out of medical. ]
presenting: the most thoughtfully constructed meta
It isn't his intention to place any pressure on Noh-Varr. Even if the first draft doesn't quite click, that doesn't mean it can't be tweaked until everything falls into place.]
I think it feels like normal, for the most part... It's still really sore, I can definitely feel that.
[He's a simple farm boy turned soldier, not a neuroscientist. At Noh-Varr's request, he nods obediently.]
Yes, of course.
[Then his expression clouds over with concern.]
They'll have to cut my arm open again to attach the prosthetic? [Which makes sense, when he considers it, but it hadn't occurred to him how exactly the process would go.]
[ And Noh-Varr is an engineer hailing from a vast, hyper-advanced alien civilization. He's not used to having to explain to a grown adult what he learned in infancy, much less in such simple terms. Still, he's mindful of Marco's needs. ]
Yes. In order for your brain to command your new arm the way it did your old one, it needs to be able to communicate with it. For that reason, we'll need to connect your nervous system to the new arm.
[ He motions to the stub. ]
It will be opened, and wiring threaded into your body. A metal casing, possibly lined with silicon, will be installed flush to your skin and grafted there.
[ His mouth thins. ] At least, that's the most likely scenario. Is that something you're ready for?
![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
unfavoured
no subject
At first he isn't sure what Marco is talking about, but eventually, he pieces it together. It makes his gut twist. ]
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
I take it your arm has gone missing in the attack? I'm sorry, Marco.
no subject
Yes. Hte awful spellin gmakes it obvious?
[He doesn't know what he can say to the apology. There's nothing to be sorry about: it happened, and he'll do what he has to do to keep going. Self-pity can only weigh him down.]
FROM: bott.marco@cdc.org
I'm ok. I'm lucky tobe alive.
no subject
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
And you're here about a mechanical replacement.
[ It's a statement of fact. In his mind, he's already begun thinking about specs. ]
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
Have you contact Neheda already?
[ He's not unwilling. But Mothership has been known to bring back the dead, and a real arm will always be better than a false one. ]
i just realized i accidentally typoed one of my on-purpose typoes...doh
I am. And I have. It doesn't look like anything can be done. Only as a mission freebi e.
FROM: bott.marco@cdc.org
You can help me? I'd be in Debbie to you.
FROM: bott.marco@cdc.org
Indebted to you.
[Back home, the most anyone could offer is a wooden stand-in, lifeless and no more useful than the stump he's left with. The possibility of a working replacement is more than he could have hoped for.]
no subject
I accept. I can't guarantee I'll be able to get you anything before the end of this mission, however.
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
Have you thought about materials?
no subject
I didn't expect it'd be a quick fix. Thank you. I really mean tat.
FROM: bott.marco@cdc.org
I don't know what kinds of materials would be suitable to be honest, or how to go about obtaining them. I was hoping you would have some ideas.
no subject
Then don't worry about it. I'll handle it.
FROM: varr.noh@cdc.org
Are you well enough for me to come and measure your good arm, sometime today?
no subject
Thanks. I can't say that enough.
[So get used to hearing it, Noh-Varr.]
FROM: bott.marco@cdc.org
I'm in medical righ tnow. I'm just resting, it should be fine.
no subject
I'll be over in a few minutes.
[ He does show up ten minutes later, carrying his toolkit, a datapad, and measuring tape. He takes care not to bother any of the staff while he moves to stand by Marco's bed, on the side of his good arm. His expression is sympathetic. ]
It's too bad we don't have access to genetic repair. How do you feel?
no subject
Hey, Noh-Varr. I feel...okay. [Because that's the most generic term there is, something you can say without saying much at all.]
...What's genetic repair?
no subject
Each of our bodies contains a...kind of 'blueprint' of what they're meant to be like. Height, hair and eye color, skin tone, length of the nose, and so on. This blueprint, which is out genetic sequence, guides our growth and our aging. It's possible to essentially reverse damage by 'reminding' the body to follow that initial genetic code.
[ A beat, while he lets that sink in. ] Do you follow? It's not a panacea--the more extensive the damage the longer the process and the higher the risk of permanent mutation--but it's often helpful.
[ Explanation done, he motions. ] Arm out, please.
no subject
I think I get it... [The big picture, anyway.] It sounds a little bit like what the nanite shots can do, right? Just more advanced.
[He holds his arm out straight in compliance with Noh-Varr's request]
Should I take my shirt off too?
no subject
[ He does, too, pushing Marco's sleeve up until his shoulder is exposed. Luckily the fabric stays put, giving Noh-Varr time to pull out his measuring tape. ]
Nanites are very small robots that integrate the body's cells. Genetic repair might involve nanites as part of the process, or radiation.
no subject
Hey, um... I don't know a lot about prosthetics, or what's even possible, but...I'll be able to use the maneuver gear again, right? It's just that the controls are finicky-- It requires a high level of precision.
no subject
Watching Marco, his hesitation, the uncertainty in his question, hammers some strange truth home. This will be the first time he'll be using his skills to heal. He's not building a weapon, a trap, a barrier, a vehicle; he's building a part of Marco's life back. Looking up from where he has his tape measure around the other man's bicep, he nods, confident. ]
Like you never lost it.
[ He feels like it's a promise he can make because to do any less would be failure, in his eyes--and he refuses to suffer failure. ]
no subject
There's little else to it but stubbornness.
He might never have pulled through the gushing torrent of his own blood exiting him had he lost his arm to a Titan back home. (And it was so rare to sustain injuries any less grave than death, when it came down to the imbalanced equation of fragile bones versus guillotine-like teeth. He's already tested the hypothesis.) If he could defeat the odds there, then the injury he'd be left with would stump him. It would be the end of the road. The military has little use for a rookie stripped of the ability to fight.
Here and now, though, he takes Noh-Varr's words for a promise that he can be more than his missing parts.]
...Thank you. [The relief that breaks across his voice come through clearly.] I can't even begin to say how much this means to me. It's like getting a second chance, you know?
no subject
You can thank me when this is over, and you have an arm again.
[ He smiles casually, full of confidence, though how much of that is real and how much is for Marco's benefit is unclear. He fakes it well enough that it doesn't matter. ]
How much can you feel, in the stump?
[ He absolutely won't touch Marco's bandage, because that's a surefire way to get kicked out of medical. ]
presenting: the most thoughtfully constructed meta
I mean, um...he believes in you...
It isn't his intention to place any pressure on Noh-Varr. Even if the first draft doesn't quite click, that doesn't mean it can't be tweaked until everything falls into place.]
I think it feels like normal, for the most part... It's still really sore, I can definitely feel that.
no subject
I want you to keep me updated as it heals; how much sensation you lose will be critical in knowing how far back we'll have to reach for usable nerves.
[ He's trying to make invasive surgery sound benign, but he was never known for bedside manner. He's no surgeon. ]
no subject
Yes, of course.
[Then his expression clouds over with concern.]
They'll have to cut my arm open again to attach the prosthetic? [Which makes sense, when he considers it, but it hadn't occurred to him how exactly the process would go.]
no subject
Yes. In order for your brain to command your new arm the way it did your old one, it needs to be able to communicate with it. For that reason, we'll need to connect your nervous system to the new arm.
[ He motions to the stub. ]
It will be opened, and wiring threaded into your body. A metal casing, possibly lined with silicon, will be installed flush to your skin and grafted there.
[ His mouth thins. ] At least, that's the most likely scenario. Is that something you're ready for?