<div class="floatleft">(http://orig05.deviantart.net/fb07/f/2013/081/3/8/girl_by_bcnyart-d5yxxss.jpg)</div><em><strong>"-if anyone's alive inside, we'll want you to help us keep them that way."</strong></em><br/><br/>Shard skidded inside the medbay and began specializing her medkit. Picking up escape pods was rare, but most of the injuries sustained by their passengers were similar to what you'd expect to see on a typical spaceship. Mostly because they tended to be survivors of some form of catastrophic failure aboard a ship. Burns, radiation poisoning and general 'physical trauma' were the most common. When a ship's systems failed badly enough that escape pods were preferable, fire and radiation tended to be present in large quantities. If that was the case here though, there probably weren't any survivors; you were either picked up by a ship quickly, or succumbed before life support failed. Still, better to have some degree of preparation. Bacta was the standard treatment for all of them and more, so into the medkit it went.<br/><br/>Shard turned to the empty bed in the medbay. Better prep the 'tank' as well. An actual bacta tank would be ludicrously expensive. The bacta that went inside of it possibly even more so, depending on market fluctuations. A portable emergency one was all they (and most ships) could get. Calling it a tank was generous, at best. Derived from emergency battlefield gear, it was basically a watertight bag with a bacta supply. She quickly unfurled it on the bed and prepped the hardware. The bag itself looked like a transparent bodybag. At the ends of the bag a bacta pump/recycler supplied the restorative agent to the patient, and kept it flowing so that a constant stream of fresh bacta was present. A breathing mask sat inside the bag. And finally a gravity manipulator served to keep the patient centered in the device, allowing for full coverage. The bag itself also had some sort of clever shape-adjusting tech that optimized flow. In the end, you got<em>most</em>of the benefit of a tank for a lot less space, weight, and credits. Despite the massive increase in efficiency, there was still only enough bacta for one person; you can only stretch bacta so far, and this was basically the limit.<br/><br/>With the tank setup, Shard moved down the list. Hypothermia, hypercapnia, and hypoxia were next. Pretty much what happened when life support failed. Power supplies die and the pods passive heatsinks suck out all the remaining heat, making it really cold inside. And/or the air filtration/reclamation system fails, and you get too little oxygen or too much carbon dioxide. Any one of those is bad, and they tend to all show up together. The treatment for the first one is to (slowly) make them warm; in went the thermal blanket. As for the other two, without serious facilities, you were left with pumping them full of oxygen; in went the O2 concentrator. It didn't increase oxygen levels by much, but it was substantially better than nothing.<br/><br/>After that, well, there wasn't much specific you could prepare for. It was either too much of a crapshoot or not immediately threatening. Hyperthermia wasn't unheard of, but it was unusual for a pod to fail in the manner required for that to happen. Malnutrition was common, but rarely something that needed to be treated in seconds. Infection was an inevitable problem, but without any prior knowledge all you could do was slap bacta on it.<br/><br/>With her kit packed, Shard hurried for the front of the cargo bay and waited for the airlock to cycle.<br/><br/><br/><div class="spoiler_container"><div class="spoiler_header" onclick="hideSecond (this);" role="button">OOC</div><div class="spoiler_body">I am in no way a medical person, so this post may be full of wrong.<br/>But hopefully it's plausible sounding enough to be interesting/entertaining.</div></div>