Nebulax gripped the handles of the bed as tightly as he could, staring at the blank white wall across the room. His teeth were gritted in pain as the medical droid poked at his chest, plucking out shrapnel fragments from his body. An oxygen mask was clasped over his face, helping him breathe after suffering brief periods of hypoxia when the explosions had ripped through the hangar. He had managed to escape out of the observation lounge into an adjacent corridor, but the explosion had still shattered a console, leaving them with a dozen pieces of metal and plastine embedded in his chest and momentary decompression. Fortunately, he had managed to scramble free and call for help. As a result, he was sitting here in the examination chair while the droid pulled shrapnel from him instead of lyin