Spacedrakes
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The price of freedom [high res] [less text version]
🕑 Added 2019-06-24 22:24:26 +0000 UTC
The scent of blood filled her nostrils as it poured down her face, teeth gritted in an animalistic snarl as foam poured from her muzzle in reaction to the chemicals being pumped directly into her spine. Ezrael tore, her muscles screaming, the fibers in her arms ripping apart as she threatened to yank her own head off from the strain. The flexible metal alloy stretched and creaked under her paws and on a cellular level, began to crack, finally in an instant, snapping, pieces of the brittle metal shattering in the air and falling to the floor.
She collapsed to her knees and puked, violently, blood rolling up the back of her throat. Her back spines stood erect, pumping more of the normally toxic amanathine into her body, the adrenaline rushing down her spine like liquid fire and spreading through her ribcage, causing her to surge forward and puke again. "Not a slave-" she half choked to the piece of flickering light on the neural implant that was torn out of her neck.
With her maw still foaming, she coughed and dragged herself toward the medbay, collapsing on the floor in the doorway and having to half-drag her dying body towards the best bet she had for survival. The cuff she grabbed she dragged down in a massive clatter, shoving her arm into the medical cuff and letting the toppled machine scan her blood and access her condition. Almost immediately the feeling of dozens of pricks erupted across her flesh as the cuff began injecting her with several medications and treatments. The computer pinged an alert to the medical officer who was on duty on the Behemoth, and Ezrael felt herself growing weak.
Suddenly, the muscles she'd torn in her body, fighting the collar were going slack, the damage was extensive in both arms and she felt the world slipping into blackness while the machine opted to sedate her while it proceeded to do its best and treat her, however she depended heavily on the young silver colored drake in her crew to hook her up to a machine that would clean her entire body's plasma, as the dosage of the drugs the collar had given her, to kill her, were far over the limit necessary to kill anyone un-augmented.
Ezrael's throat was raw, and when her medical officer walked in she'd see the crumpled mass of the Captain and the bald ring around her neck of pale teal where even the hide had been torn into and only the bare teal-grey muscle of her neck shone through. She'd need stitches, and it was a miracle she hadn't torn into her arteries..
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