Aidan squeezed the balloon at a constant interval of time, the corner of his right eye focused on the VitaSign readings of Arcade's deteriorated health situation. He was grinding his teeth, his nerves were twisting and his patience wasting, constantly fearing that Arcade's body will simply give up the fight and shut down; as the repetitive motion turned into a reflex, his mind wandered off and thought of every grim scenario that popped up in his head. What if there was a blood clot causing pulmonary embolism? What if Arcade lost enough blood for his body to go into a latent shock? What if his decision to perform a cricothyrotomy was rather rash? He tried to shake them all off, but an overwhelming sense of terror engulfed his fur and sent shivers down his spine as he heard shots very near to him. The dog was lucky enough to have Blade reducing the threat to null, he even sighed heavily to relief himself of some stress.

[b]"Roger, sir. Thanks for the support."[/b] He then raised is head to take a quick glimpse at Stumpy's general position. [i]Useless piece of armor-cased shit you are[/i]

Then, a blessing came down upon his furred ears, the whopping sound of chopper blades spinning in a distance was everything he needed to regain his cool and get back to work. Aidan prepared the wheels on the stretcher and elevated the surface so that it would easily roll on them, then quickly turned his attention back at the balloon to start compressing it again. He really needed a helping hand, but he had proven that one guy was enough to do all of these maneuvers if that singular guy had intensive training and body condition to handle emergencies and manage every little critical detail to save a life; an exhausting job, but Aidan wouldn't like it if it were simple. He waited until he saw the chopper affix to the ground before he'd throw everything back in the kit, swing the kit on his back and push the stretcher towards the Sky Hawk, keeping his head low, his back hunched and his feet jogging at a steady, quick pace; one hand was administrating life into a nearly-defunct body, the other pushed the stretcher and fought against the harsh terrain. He saw Ken coming out the side door to prep something up, probably a stretcher. Ken greeted him and offered to help, Aidan was actually glad the pilot was up to throw an aiding hand; even though he breathed the way he was taught to, he still felt he was tiring after the short, but brutal skirmish of that day.

[b]"Copy that, Kenny. Alright, get ready to move him on the stretcher and ventilate while I strap him!"[/b] He announced the pilot through the helmet's headset before he finally arrived at the bird, panting and slightly sweaty. [b]"Good evenin'! He's been relatively stable since I opened his throat, but he's charred all over the place, fabric melted and merged with fur, I filled a shrapnel wound and left the others to the surgeons to take care of. He won't bleed on your baby, but sure as hell he's stinky."[/b] Aidan got used to the nasty smell of burnt skin, fat, fabric and plastic combined in a sweet, cadaverous smell that puffed out from under the foil blanket.

[b]"Alright, you grab the legs, I get the torso. Ready? Ok, three, two, one, clear!"[/b] Aidan had his arms tucked under the torso of Arcade and as soon as he cleared, he slid him over to the chopper's stretcher with ease, all thanks to the wolf's aid. [b]"Superb. Take over ventilation, I'll strap him, get my stretcher on board and buckle myself up. Compress twice every three seconds at an even interval and all should be fine."[/b]

With that, the dog nimbly collapsed the stretcher and slid it in the chopper, then quickly strapped the body nice and snug in the chopper and finally stepped inside, where he placed himself next to Arcade and set down the kit right beside him in preparation for the worse. He tapped the wolf's shoulder to take over ventilation.

[b]"I can't leave him by himself, Kenny. Get us out of here, he'd might just make it. If my GEAR gets wrecked,maybe, MAYBE I'll get a better suited model."[/b] The dog rambled, feeling that he finally had control over the situation. [b]"Blade, sir, Arcade's in the Hawk and he's getting off the field, but I need to stay with him. If my GEAR gets thrashed, I'll be sure to file a complaint to the Board, over."[/b] But all this joy would come to an abrupt end once the pilot brought the chopper to a safe altitude and begin its emergency flight.

An alarm beeped in the dog's left ear, the small screen on the helmet simply displaying "Chck. Cardio". Aidan pulled the DATMK computer out, which then showed him a morbid image: a green, irregular line that looked nothing like a normal pulse, blood pressure dropped until numbers were replaced with a question mark and a different alert filled the inside of the chopper. Aidan cursed to himself and immediately leaned over Arcade's torso, pulled the foil away and cleared the burnt chest of clothing material; he pulled out the two defibrillation pads and stuck them on their indicated position and without losing precious time, Aidan started with chest compressions, 100/minute, thirty compressions to two ventilations ratio. 

[b]"He's crashing"[/b] he barely uttered through the commlink [b]"ventricular fibrillation, started CPR, sir."[/b] 

He kept his cool and his wits close by, having to fight for Arcade's life and the urge to scream with frustration. He knew it was pulmonary embolism, Arcade crashed not long after the chopper took off, but it wasn't the pilot's fault. At this point, the dog considered survival rates to be slim to none, but he clung to them anyway and pressed on; he used his back muscles in order to keep himself from tiring and counted the compressions, one by one. Once he completed a cycle and a robotic voice ordered him to [b]Prepare defibrillation[/b], he twisted a knob on the computer to 200 Joules and punched the charge button with his index knuckle. The same voice confirmed the action by uttering [b]Charging[/b], a green bar popped on the screen to gradually fill up, an accompanying crescendo sound denoting charge level. Once the bar filled, the sound changed to an alerting sound that would have other people involved with CPR clear away from the patient before the [b]Administer shock[/b] message came up with the voice reading it out loud. The dog slightly slid away from the dying pilot and pressed the yellow button, the pads immediately contracted and sent a jolt through Arcade's fleshy frame; Aidan waited until the computer checked for any modifications, but just like he feared, he had to continue CPR. This operation was turning into a nightmare, all that he wanted was for Arcade to stand up and offer him and Ken a cup of tea and, as if things weren't bad enough, he found out that the mining camp got trampled with artillery, possibly resulting with more friendly casualties.

What a day.