Ben Merasska could count the times he'd awakened from unconsciousness that he was not party to inducing on one hand. He was proud of that record, but it also meant that the memories were much less familiar, and the responses were not ingrained.

The first thing he felt was pain. He ached all over, but his head was the worst. He knew one thing, and that was he likely had a concussion. Things felt woozy, and he had hard time really focussing on anything.

Then he heard the screams. He'd heard screams like that before, but never so drawn out; he'd heard people dying over the communications and in dogfights: the quick pained scream and realization of pain and then silence.

He undid the crash webbing and straps and promptly fell out of his seat, moaning softly as he recovered from the sudden bout of dizziness movement caused. He slowly lifted his head up and saw Meorrrei's husband, still shirtless, his mouth wide open and his chest heaving. His legs were caught between a section of the bulkhead that was bent in at an extreme angle and the seat he was still strapped into. The seat itself had broken from its anchoring to the deck of the cockpit and was now pushed against the back wall.

By the time the sight seeped into his consciousness enough for him to realize what was happening, the Cizerack male's screams had drifted into still skin-curling soft heaves of pain. His voice had given out.

He pushed himself to his knees and glanced about the cockpit of the shuttle and noted with some relief that the viewport hadn't cracked or otherwise broken. He forced himself to focus on the trapped Cizerack.

With a calmness he would not have otherwise had, Ben unstrapped the male from his seat and staggered his way into the galley.He dug through the drawers and cabinets for a moment before finding some painkillers. He staggered back to the shivering, shirtless male, and injected the drugs into him.

He sighed and stood up once the man had stopped screaming and closed his eyes. He was still shivering, but at least now he wasn't screaming. He staggered almost drunkenly over to Meorrrei herself, and shook her slightly, ignoring the steaming puddle of bile and partially digested food on the floor near his feet.

"Hey. Hey. Come on, wake up," he slurred, finding it hard to keep her in focus. Her form blurred and then cleared again. "Wake up."