I awoke from my slumber to the sound of a power drill whirring near me.  When my eyes fluttered open, I saw Lyra sitting in the same chair that she had been in earlier, a surgical mask covering half of her face. Noticing my stirring, she pulled the drill away from my arm and looked up at me.

“Well good morning, sleeping beauty,” she said.

“Morning,” I responded, “What kind of mad scientist activities have you gotten up to?”

She tapped my arm, which was now mostly plated in a shiny metal.  It made an unnatural, hollow dinging as she poked her fingernail into it.

“I was able to scavenge some titanium alloy for the plating, meaning once I’m done putting it on, your arm should be fully functional.  I’d still recommend being careful as you get used to it, but it’s waterproof and durable, so you shouldn’t have any issues.”

“Hopefully it’s durable enough to not get it torn off again,” I joked.

“Hopefully you don’t find yourself in a situation where there’s a possibility of it getting torn off,” she shot back, “don’t make all of my scavenging and work go to waste, I’ll be pissed.”

“Yes ma’am, I won’t lose your hard work and dedication,” I said back, saluting with my real arm.

With a chuckle, she began using the drill again, putting the final pieces of plating near my wrist. When she finished, she put the drill down on the table and took the mask off of her face. 

“Should be working now, try moving your arm around.”

I sat up on the cot, which required significantly less effort than it had the day prior and began to move my arm around.  First left, then right, then in a circle, and finally forward and backwards.  It was heavier than my own arm, but not by much. 

“Seems to work well,” I said, “thank you so much.”

“You’re welcome.  Are you able to stand?” She asked.

I slowly put my legs to one side of the cot and stood up.  It wasn’t easy, but I was able to stand and take a few steps forward, leaning against a wall when I made it to one.

“Yeah, I can walk just not very well.”

“Understandable, you lost a lot of blood. Just try to take it easy.  I’m assuming you’re hungry, do you want anything to eat?”

As if to answer her, my stomach growled audibly enough for her to hear. She laughed and stood up from the chair, once again disappearing into another room.  A few minutes later she returned with a protein bar and a glass of water.

“Here, take these.  It’s not much but it’ll help for now.”

I opened the packaging on the protein bar and took a bite.  The grainy chocolate felt like the greatest meal I had ever eaten.  I greedily inhaled the bar and slurped the water down. Standing became significantly easier after that, even with the blood loss.  Lyra laughed audibly at my admittedly ridiculous consumption of the food.

“Hungry, huh?” She asked in a teasing voice.

“I almost died, and the last thing I ate was in a dream a day and a half ago.  Yeah, I’m starving.”

I crumpled the wrapper up in my metal hand and tried tossing it into a trash can across the room.  I let it fly, but it missed the mark, landing on the ground a few inches away.

“Looks like my accuracy with this new arm is gonna need some work,” I said, then slowly walked over to pick it up.

Walking had become easy enough that I was able to get to the fallen paper without falling, so I turned to Lyra.

“Any tips on getting used to the arm?” I asked.

“I think the best thing to remember is that this is not your real arm, so it will be different and slightly uncomfortable at first, but you will get used to it with time.  And try to pull your punches if you’re not meaning to kill someone, titanium limbs and skulls don’t usually mix well.”

As I listened to her, I raised my metal arm into the air and let it back down slowly.  She was right about it feeling strange, but it seemed like something I could eventually accept. Lyra spun on the swivel chair when she finished speaking and reached into one of the wooden cabinets on the wall. From it, she extracted my leather, which was missing one of the sleeves, and a T-shirt that was not mine.

“Here, put these on,” she instructed.

I did as she told me to.  The jacket was stained with dried blood, but it still fit, and I could always wash it.  Also from the cabinet, she pulled out my holster and the handgun that belonged in it, my beloved Mk. VII.  I took the holster and attached it to my hip, which was a slightly more difficult process to do with metallic fingers. Holding the gun by the barrel, she raised it towards me.  I took it by the grip and checked the chamber, which still had a round loaded.  Letting the slide forward gently, I reholstered the gun. 

“So,” she began, breaking the silence, “What’s your next move?” 

I thought for a moment. I hadn’t yet considered what I was going to do next.  I still had to get my bike back from the spot where I left it.  I need a proper meal, a shower, and sleep in a real bed.  Looking further, I also needed to get to the bottom of the Paul Rodriguez situation.  I need to know what kind of tech he had, how he did what he did, and who was responsible.

“I think for right now, I just want to get home,” I answered simply. “Get something to eat, take a shower, the things one usually does after getting their arm ripped off.”

Another thought entered my head, one that I had been meaning to ask for a while now.

“If I may ask, why did you choose to save me?”

She looked up into my eyes.

“Long story short, a bounty hunter saved my life one time, and I wanted to repay that in any way I could.  If you want to hear the whole story, then I guess you’ll just have to come back one day.”

“I think I will.  And if you ever need any help, a job or whatnot, just call me.  I owe you my life, it’s the least I can do.”

“I’ll keep that in mind.  The door’s down the hall and to the left.”

She paused for a moment. 

“See you around, Badger.  Try not to get yourself killed.”

“I’ll do my best,” I responded with a laugh, “See you around, Lyra.  And thanks again for the arm.”

And with that, I followed her instructions once more and left the building.