Assessing Survival Read Online Free

trousers, straightened her shirt.
    This was what she did. She was the advocate for the wounded, trying to do what was best for them.
    Keenan was still in surgery, but the others were out and getting their software upgrades.
    There was a man in a bloodstained uniform speaking with one of the patients. Something was familiar about him.
    She shrugged and went to check on the sergeant who was learning how to move his new hand.
    “How is that going for you?”
    He looked at it. “It feels different.”
    “It should. It has a blade extension that runs up the back of your wrist. It will come on line when you have mastered feeding yourself.”
    One of the other guys called out, “He will settle for being able to jerk off without ripping his dick off.”
    Stitch kept her expression bland. “It will be a good control test.”
    It was a little odd to see the men after their implants were attached. The nanites were building seamless silver skin over the structures, and the men were rapidly becoming battle ready.
    As she made the rounds to check on them, they all started to show signs of increased mobility. Feet flexed, hands flexed and their chests shuddered as their new organs kicked into play. The medical staff uncoupled them as the implants took their place in their bodies.
    Stitch wondered what had taken place in her own system. Waking up with the implants functioning meant that they had had time to grow into her system. The hand felt like hers. It was even warm to the touch.
    One of the men reached up with his silver right hand. She clasped it with her own.
    His grin was one of pure joy. “It’s a great fit.”
    “It is. I will send a letter of admiration to the manufacturer. Maybe I can get a long-distance thing going.” She winked.
    The other men laughed and jeered at the man still holding her hand. He flexed and pulled her toward him, so she responded with careful pressure.
    His expression was shocked as she pulled him up and out of the bed. He was hanging from her grip, and the hoots from the other patients drew the angry eye of the medics.
    “Major Carter, please put him down.”
    Stitch relaxed her arm, pulled away, and he settled back into the med bed.
    “Why are you pestering the medic, Danforth?”
    The voice was a new one. Stitch turned and looked at the brunette man wearing a skintight, sleeveless top and bloodstained black pants tucked into combat boots. The amazing thing was the colour that was riding the cybernetic arm. She had never seen designs on the silverwork before.
    To her astonishment, the men in recovery snapped to a sort-of attention while lying down.
    Danforth cleared his throat. “This isn’t a medic, Captain. This is Stitch.”
    His features were sharp and reminded her of someone, but she couldn’t quite place it.
    The man walked right up to her and glared down at her with deep-brown eyes. She stared up at him, and he growled, “What will you give me if I go through with this?”
    Recognition flared in her. “I will let you watch me eat a hot dog. Slowly.”
    He barked a laugh and hugged her. Stitch squeaked as he lifted her off her feet.
    She patted the metal of his shoulders. “Nice to see you again, Nikolai.”
    He looked at her and confusion came to his features. “Why are you here?”
    “The explosion. All cyborgs must be shipped to the front lines as soon as they are mobile.” She tapped him with her silver hand.
    He set her carefully on her feet. “The base that blew? That was two years ago.”
    She smiled up at him. “Did all the beauty sleep work?”
    Six men burst into applause. More hooting ensued.
    He realized he was holding her, and he stepped back. “You look fine. Good. Lovely.”
    Danforth chuckled. “Maybe you should get your tongue replaced, Captain. You seem to have hit a stumbling block.”
    The others chuckled.
    Nikolai glanced away from her, and he was seeking someone. “Danforth, where is he?”
    Stitch tapped his chest. “If you are talking about Keenan