"Can I walk around and move without expecting the bones in my body, that are currently held together with what you injected, to get in pieces again?"

A sound emerged from behind the mask of the Tech-Priest, amplified considerably by the hollow triangle, a sound that sounded as if binary had been made into a vocal language and was now being spouted at the naïve Guardswoman; it was not any form of words though, it was laughter.

“You humans are a predictable species,” noted the Genator, not meaning to cause any offence, his tone rather flat and neutral as far as it went, “they are not 'help together', as you put it!” Now he [i]did[/i] emphasise his words, a subtle hint of annoyance entering his otherwise eerily robotic speech-patterns.

“The material I have used is for all intents and purposes now a part of your bone, better than bone - a more flexible and durable calcium-based compound  that will mean breaking them again will prove most ambitious. As for your lacerations, deep as they were, they should heal within a matter of days...just do not remove the staples until then.” 

With the latter he [b]could have[/b] done more, he could have injected her with a concoction that would cause her blood to solidify when exposed to air, or grafted self-healing flesh over the wounds, but he considered this and decided that he had done more than enough for one day. If she ever wanted such things, such blessings, then she could seek him out...as could any of them.

“In short, you may rise and do as you will,” he announced, scanning her body once more both for her own health and for his own records, “the painkillers will also help to heal any internal injuries, but I would give them time to work and avoid any [i]stressful[/i] activities.”

Her internal wounds, whatever they may be, would heal in time; without allowing him to operate more though? She would simply need to be careful, and not do anything stupid to tear or re-open them. Yes, she could also potentially die within a matter of hours, but Natta placed no real value on human life, and so would avoid telling her at that precise time.

Turning his face back toward the Inquisitor, Zhevron apparently, he gave what in human terms may have been a cough, “is there anything else you would have of me? Any subjects for study, perhaps?”

[@rivaan][@Skyrte]