Horror... horror... horror...<br/>Dreamer froze for a few seconds as he stared at Maeve's beautiful, now battered body.  His brain registered the damage that had been done, but classified most of it as painful but not immediately life-threatening.  It was the internal damage he was most worried about... the blood flowing from her crotch was substantial, and the glazed look of her eyes could only mean a bad concussion... he wondered, in horror, if his serums and hemoclotters would be enough to save her.<br/><br/>It took all his training for him to force his face to remain blank as he took in the scene, and not to show his horror and anguish.  Maeve needed him to pull this off.  She was still alive... she could still be saved...<br/><br/>He let some of the anger show.  "You assholes!  Shark'll eat you -whole- if she dies!"  He walked forward, no longer even noticing or caring whether or not Kitten was still following him.  Vaguely he thought it would be better not, since the shit was about to hit the fan.  "He wants her, and he wants her -alive- going down!"<br/><br/>He hurried up beside the bed, reaching his left hand up for one of the pen-like objects clipped to his shirt pocket... a survival serum.  It should keep her alive and at least slow the hemorrhaging... and should at least allow her to regain some consciousness, so she could see he was there for her.<br/><br/>So far he hadn't even drawn his machete.  No need for the rebels to see him as more of a threat than necessary.  Besides... weapons were optional at this point for him.<br/><br/>As he neared the bed, he gave the sandy-haired man ----Lanner---- a dark look, taking in the weapon he still held pointed at him.  "Don't be more of an idiot than you already -have- been.  You -know- that won't hurt me, and would only make me hurt -you- an awful lot more!"