She awoke slowly to the sound of beeping and the smell of disinfectant. She wanted to jump up. To draw her pistol. She clenched her hands and began counting.
This wasn't the first time something like this has happened. When she lost her arms and leg- LEG-
She hurriedly looked down, but couldn't see over her chest. She tried to list her legs, but couldn't feel anything below the waste. She pushed up with her arms and began hyperventilating.
Her lower stomach downwards was heavily bandaged, and her legs were gone. She suddenly felt an extreme stabbing pain in her back, and she fell back, groaning in agony. She gripped the metal bedframe, and it began bending.
Suddenly a woman was at her side, trying to talk to her. She couldn't hear past the ringing in her ears as she collapsed into unconsciousness again.
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She awoke again. She didn't know how long she had been out this time, but it was tiring. By her bed, a man in military fatigues kept watch over her. That was new.
He noticed her almost instantly, and got up. "Sargent Nivka. I would say it's nice to meet you, but under the circumstances it's frankly not."
That was worrying, but she ignored it. She had more important things to do. "My squad?" She rasped out.
His grim look was all she needed. She lay back down and just stared up at the ceiling. "Your position was almost over run. 6th squad was decimated to the man. Your squad lost 9 out of the 11 troopers you had on hand. I'm sorry." He said gently.
She just stared. It wasn't the first time a squad of hers had been decimated. A few times before in fact. It never got easier, but you did harden. She didn't cry, she just lay there, tired and sad.
The man left eventually. She settled into a routine of eating, sleeping, and shiting. It turns out that she had shattered her lower spine, and her pelvic region was almost completely powder. It was a miracle she was alive, they said. It was miraculous. She wanted to spit.
At best, she was due for months of surgery, then years of rehab. You didn't walk shit like this off. Hell, if her family wasn't rich, she might not even get the stance to walk again.
The perks of being from earth and having 2 parents that had high amounts of influence and money really couldn't be overstated. She was 30 now, if she included cryo, and they were 51. She missed them.
They sent messages, every so often. They typically included well wishes, worries, and sadness. She had run off at 18 after all, and this is where it got her.
She sighed, and settled in for another rest. Healing was tiring work. Hating yourself, even more so.

