Al nods to Ossanlin. "Much obliged." Salem, on the other hand, only favors the War-Prince with a smirk- a smirk that quickly dissolves into an expression of discomfort and confusion as he's treated to one of the most unusual experiences of his life.
"How's that feel?" asks Al.
"Like there's a beebat trying to massage the backs of my eyeballs with its wings," says Salem, rubbing his forehead. "Was that you using my implant?"
Al nods and says brightly, "Yep! Brace yourself!"
And then the weird, psychic vibrating sensation is back. It's a sort of squirming, crawling sensation inside his skull. It's not a physical sensation; all of the energy is purely mental, a sort of misalignment of his thoughts, similar to the way the world would look if his head were vibrating violently. The sensation comes and goes in fits and pulses, a little like Morse code.
Or, he realizes after a moment, like spoken language. The rise and fall of the frequency of the disjoinder... he's 'hearing' Al's words, spoken across the Android's connection to the ship and then back through the Andalite-made chip installed in his own head. He can almost sense words... and he can get a hint of the emotions and images that accompany them... Apparently this plan is working, because he can see the force fields and instruments of the med-bay responding to Al's commands-- first, the blood-siphon from the morphed Andalite wavers and adjusts, as Al gets a feel for what the proper commands are. Then, the medical equipment scans the morphed Andalite. Seconds later, a holographic image of the morphed Andalite's circular system flickers to life in the air near Al's face-- and at the same moment, the image is transmitted, with brilliant clarity, directly into Salem's own mind.
This flurry of sensation makes it difficult to focus... to pay attention... and right now, his mental defenses are so worn down he doesn't even have the energy to try to fight it... so he simply watches, half dazed, as Al leans over the gaping hole in the Hork-Bajir's torso.
Al disables the force fields which are stemming the flow of blood from the Hork-Bajir, and at that same moment holds out his hand. A maroon-colored 'film' flickers into place, fitting over the surfaces of the wound where the med-bay's 'bandage' had been a moment before. With a glance up at the floating holographic image, Al alters his own holographic projection to match-- a network of plastic-looking arteries and veins snaps into place, colored maroon and dark blue-green in what would be a good textbook representation of Hork-Bajir blood colors.
He then sends commands to the medbay, steadily replacing his own artificial-looking holographic blood vessels with invisible ones through which blood now flows steadily, if weakly. It takes Al only a couple of minutes to build the network of the largest arteries and veins in the destroyed section of the Hork-Bajir's torso. The network he builds isn't complex or detailed enough to replicate all of the Hork-Bajir's missing blood vessels, but the main thoroughfares have been replicated. Visually, blood now pumps through the air into and out of the injured creature's lower extremities.
As a final command, Al instructs the medbay to pull back the bandage and to stop generating the blood vessels as the flesh heals and grows back into place, much as Ossanlin had done.
"Hand me that?" he says to Salem.
"Uh... what?" Salem asks stupidly, sounding almost as if he'd just woken up.
"The jug of stuff," says Al, holding out his hand without turning around. "Time's a-wastin', nurse!"
Salem looks down dazedly and spots at his feet the large jug-like object he'd stuffed onto the top of the medical bag. He picks it up and puts it in Al's outstretched hand.
Al takes the jug, sets it, seemingly, in midair above the Hork-Bajir's shoulder, on a force-field cushion he's created. He tips it upside down, and a slow drip of clear fluid begins to trickle down an invisible tube and into the Hork-Bajir's arm. "Hork-Bajir liquified bark nutritional supplement," he explains to no-one in particular. "Luckily for us, it can also be administered intravenously. He'll need all the fluid and nutrition we can give him."
Finally, Al turns back to Ossanlin and shrugs. "All we can do now is wait, I think, unless we find a real medical professional. I have no idea if this is... like, kosher, medically speaking, or if it's even the right thing to do, but it's the best I've got." He frowns and says, in a near-perfect impersonation of one Bones McCoy, "Dammit, Jim, I'm an appliance, not a doctor."
