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Futuristic Horseshoes and Ion Grenades - IC

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Soliel let out a heavy sigh, though it sounded more relieved than anything. Thanks to the orders from Everett, she had an excuse to retreat back to the medical bay. Seeing that Carl had gotten right to work with organizing the dockhands to get any cargo left loaded, it made it easier for her to trust that any remaining supplies that hadn't made its way onboard would be accessible soon enough. So that just left her with removing the boxes that currently occupied the medical bay.

Sol froze in the doorway of the med bay. It had only been maybe half an hour at most, but she could have sworn there were more boxes in the bay now than when she had set off in search of the missing needles. Either they found the missing needles, or my memory is playing tricks on me, she thought. With a small shake of her head, she delved back into the boxes, double checking that each one was empty. As she went, she finally took the time to clear out the boxes, freeing up the space in the med bay.

She had to admit, once most of the boxes had been cleared away, it was a huge weight off of her shoulders. The bay was actually in a state of being useable with most of the medical supplies already in place. She had sorted everything thus far personally and had come to know the bay like the back of her own hand. Given that there was a very short amount of time before they embarked, Sol felt significantly better knowing that should something, anything, happened to the rest of the crew, she would be in a position to help. As long as she found her missing needles. Back to it then, she thought as she returned to the boxes.
 

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