Boss sat stripped to the waist on the edge of his bed in the med centre, supporting himself upright by holding on the edge with both hands.
Sitting on a chair in front of him, Doc was busy with a needle and some sterile medical suture.
“Hold still! This is only the first one you have burst. Nice display up there though…”
“shutit.”
“No really, they were all impressed – almost vertical take off and spin like a drill bit all the way up to three thousand feet, that must have hurt the old ribs a bit..”
“shutit”
“And the g-force in some of those turns! Extreme combat levels I’d say with the pressure suit squeezing, stitches giving, hold still – this may sting.”
“sssshutit”
“And the way they all punched the air when you did that thing were you make the plane stand up on its tail…the Cobra? Way cool…” He started on the next freshly opened wound “they loved it”
“shutit”
“And the grand finaleeeee, your piece of resistance”
“shutit”
“That thing where you spin the plane nose over tail in horizontal flight, one of the chaps told me the SU37 is the only plane you can do that with and you’re the only one mad enough on this base to do it. And ya did. They went NUTS”
Boss looked at Doc.
“Yeah I know – shutit. Right you idiot. Breath in as deep as you can and hold it please”
Boss did.
“GRNNK!”
“Yes, that is all the breaks in your ribs, which had knitted fairly well till the pressure suit did its work on them, popping back together…sliding and grinding back into place. I am sure it must be unpleasant. Almost as unpleasant as watching hours of care and attention get pissed away in a frivolous display to prove something to some new pilots and boost morale. You can breath out now. You totally infuriating stubborn idiot rabbit”
“Shhhhut it”
“Yes, you can have painkillers now. And I am grounding you for three weeks, ops room duties only, advise and guide and stay sat down.”
“But Doc..”
“Shut it!”
