Glancing inside the room, and then at the cable, Angel took one end of it.
"I'll go in. You'll have an easier job supporting me than I would supporting you." She said, then smiled with a shrug. "Hey, who would've thought it - my tinyiness is useful once again." She said with a chuckle, tying the cable around her waist, and easing her way into the staff room.
It was a mess in there. Cables from the ceiling - which had various holes in it - scattered the room, along with books, pens, cups, etc. The desk was nailed to the floor, so while the chair was shattered in pieces on the far side of the room, it was intact. Normally, medical kits on ships like this were brightly coloured and easy to see. This, however, was not the case.
"Stupid ship." Angel muttered as she sifted through various boxes for the kit. After five minutes of nothing but pointless vitamin tablets, and a bottle of strong rum, she walked up to the desk to have a look inside. The drawers were locked, but the desk was fairly old, and water-damaged, so breaking open the drawer was easy even for her. Breathing a sigh of relief, she yelled out to Bobby that she had found not one, but two medical kits in the drawers. Opening them up, she saw that they contained painkillers, antiseptic, bandages, paper stitches, sutures and even that clear suture thread that the hospitals had. But there was no form of anesthetic. Other than the rum, of course.