gosh we're always saving your hide, james

[aphelionix]

Bentley didn't go on missions. It just wasn't something he did. The anxiety and intensity of such a situation was unsavory to begin with, and dangerous, and Bentley didn't like dangerous.

But seeing as he had no field experience, and yet was one of the most qualified doctors in Circle 7, it set him up to be set out eventually. Apparently it was some sort of requirement, for experience's sake; to know you could act in the middle of action, or in dire situations. Bentley knew he could. Inside of a hospital, that was. Outside? It was hard to say. He had his pack which was fully equipped with what he needed, but what if an emergency arose?

At the very least, he was assigned with another, more field-experienced medic and Evan, who was more than familiar with these sorts of missions. Not to mention, one of the few people Bentley would call his friend. There was a small comfort in that - but it was very small.

"S-so, what's the situation? How bad are the commander's injuries?" he asked, trying to get a grip of the situation. They had ten minutes until they landed.

Comments

[tactician]

"We've a vague idea. Don't worry, Boss'll get it sorted out," Evan said reassuringly, saluting James with a two-fingered sign of respect, rather than clapping a hand on his arm, to avoid jolting his injury. He and the doctors stood back as the small company made their way towards their waiting shuttle, which had hopefully held its own and had suffered better luck than they had, meaning no surprise attacks or sudden breakdowns.

As the soldiers shuffled off, Evan nudged Bentley with his shoulder. "Good job today, doc."

[aphelionix]

Bentley ran a hand through his hair, eyes cast down at the heavy dust.

"Thanks," he said. He had since calmed down, judging by his voice; it was back to being steady and, well, coherent. "Just doing my job."