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"That hurts a little much for a routine procedure," grimaced Hannius from a medical bay cot. "Why don't you leave some of the skin on my chest, HQ-44?"

"My apologies, sir," squeaked the medical droid. "It is inevitable that you feel some discomfort. I will do my best to alleviate the discomfort."

HQ-44 bends over to continue its stitching procedure, the array of lights causing his teal exoskeleton to sparkle with metallic undertones. A variation on the popular 2-1B droids used widely across the Galactic Empire, HQ-44 contains many of the analysis functions also common to FX-7s. HQ-44 does its mechanical best to evaluate the errors in its stitching style and minimize any more discomfort in order to avoid disintegration. The medical bay is a rather small and cluttered space filled with almost too many electronic and pneumatic devices.

Hannius looks up at the light array with a bit of a scowl on his face. His reflection on the body of HQ-44 is somewhat distorted into a menacing look of anger and fear. Angry at the inconvenience of this procedure and fear at what may have happened if he was only a bit slower with his parry. With his nearly six-foot frame filling the medical bay cot, the droid continues its work. "Is that stitching finished yet?"

"Complete, sir. Have a nice day," HQ-44 whirred as it places all the surgical equipment in sanitation bins with its three fingered metal hands and scuttles to the magnetic door.

Hannius looks at the zigging wound on his side and runs his finger along its path. Almost, you fool, almost, he thought with a smile beginning to replace the grimace of pain that formerly painted his face. The smile growing larger as he realized this wound would not be the end of him. There was still a chance. And, that thought gave him an undeniable level of comfort that no spice farmed from a known system could bring.