[ WP ] Nano-Surgeon Squadrons have replaced the conventional surgery standards -- brutal electrical/chemical warfare inside the body & the men and women who save lives from behind a screen .

“ Twenty minutes to insertion! ” the voice bellowed across the loudspeakers as the thudding of their footsteps echoed chaotically across the corridor. At the end of the corridor, a large room with the interfaces were awaiting the operators. No time to waste, the patient had entered a critical state less than five minutes beforehand, preliminary info suggested that a new biomech implant wasn ’ t fusing well with the host ’ s body. No time for a complete diagnosis, a life was at stake. The interfaces for now. “ We have to move quick, the implant failed and our patient ’ s gone critical. We ’ ve done this before, just follow my lead ”, the Surgeon spoke, his voice still groggy. He ’ d need a booster as soon as he was in to jolt his senses. Mistake was not an option. “ Understood. The spikes are prepped and delivery systems are a go, I did the checkup last afternoon. ” The Technician was still new, barely a year into her job, assisting procedures with the Surgeon and Assistants from the inside. She rattled her fist as she ran cross the hallway, feeling increasingly awake. 
 
 In the room, they were greeted by the familiar sight of the interfaces. Jumbles of grey and black wiring and cables, snaking in various directions attached to different control nodes, hummed and whirred as they were being activated. The Surgeon went first, followed by the Assistants at their respective consoles, linking with the machinery and interface, cables and gloves hovering over holographic displays. The Surgeon ingested the small booster and in a few seconds felt his heart rumble with vigour as he breathed faster. His primary display relayed the probes ’ information around the implant. Vital signs of the patient showed distress warnings, as a nanopaste container had cracked and the dark grey material was seeping into the patient ’ s shoulder. Supposed to be harmless, exposure with this goop at an early stage in the implantation was not supposed to be a major concern, some cleanup would be needed early on in the process to prevent contamination but nothing that required waking up a surgery team in the middle of the night. “ What the heck, did someone botch a preliminary checkup on the patient? ” an Assistant rang out through the comm system. “ The paste is inert, I don ’ t understand why the vitals are dropping… ” replied the other Assistant. 
 
 From her console, the Assistant readied the injection nodes. In the operating room, a metallic proboscis approached the patient ’ s implant, the sharp tip aiming for the entry node. From there in, they would have to navigate the internal network linking to the host ’ s blood, lymph and muscles. Standardized materials meant that the pathways were simple to navigate, and the tip entered the port. They had to neutralize the paste before it would spread the body. At the moment, stabilizing the patient was paramount. For what came next, the Surgeon couldn ’ t tell. This was unprecedented, not covered in any theory. 
 
 “ We ’ re in ”, exclaimed Tech in a cool voice, “ and down we go. ” The small nanorobots coursed inwards on a motor fluid before disengaging and heading in different directions, one Assistant remaining with the Surgeon. Small grids showed the location of each as they raced along the biomech channels towards the host/implant boundaries. The small devices whirred inside, crawling their way through, suspended in synthblood. Their tiny capacitors were powering up and tuning their frequencies to switch the past to a different mode. “ ETA to boundary in five minutes. Confirm when you reach your position. ” The Surgeon was maneuvering through with ease. The tunnels were simple enough, and his HUD showed the Assistant not far behind. And yet, it all made no sense. This wasn ’ t supposed to happen, the interior of the implant was all wrong. It seemed properly inserted and the structures well built, but there were no signs of interfacing with the host. No notes left for him to indicate a botched operation either. He shook his head a little, the HUD lighting his left, then his right, along the grooved channels. Oddly enough, the display was beginning to fade as he was approaching the end of the implant. 
 
 “ At boundary. Sensors indicate most of the paste Awaiting instructions. ” The other Assistant was ready. “ In position. ” Tech confirmed over the comms. “ Give me a few moments, we are almost there. ” Heavy static was distorting the minuscule probes and there was a background noise running through the comms. Reflective crystals marked the end of the tunnel. “ We are there. ” The paste ’ s trace glimmered on the sensors well enough. “ Looks like we ’ ll have to go in blind. I ’ m reading calibrated frequencies, we have less than ten minutes… ” The last part cut, but the message was clear. 
 
 Tech pushed with one glove the console and with the other cranked a set of dials. She left the familiarity of the tunnels behind and entered the abyss of the host, going through what was marked as a smaller vein. Paste was lining the walls, giving it a silvery reflective appearance. She started the emitter, the capsule whining as it bounced off the paste. It immediately gained a wrinkled appearance, darkening on the surface. Once the whole thing was over, they ’ d have to flush out the inert paste out, but no time to worry for that now. She couldn ’ t collide with the paste or the fragile equipment would be unsalvageable. The capsule crawled slowly, making steady progress, and the thickness of the paste was decreasing. A timer on her HUD showed the clock slowly ticking down. In control of the console, she was skilled at moving the capsule about, twisting and twirling along the black cables that received motor inputs. Just a matter of time before she ’ d be promoted to Surgeon and be assigned a surgery team. 
 
 “ Jack, the paste is thinning, can you read me? ” Electrical interferences disabled the trackers, and she had no idea where her teammates were within the host. No reply. Each interface had to be sealed shut to present optimal conditions for piloting and the most precise of movements, which prevented in person communications. Besides, all had to be extremely focused on the sensory inputs and outputs and couldn ’ t spare attention outwards. The capsules were their vessels, and were theoretically equipped to handle every task within the patient. The silvery flakes of the paste gave way to what appeared to be a honeycomb structure, fine and dense, strands of which spiralled on the hollow tube. “ This is not right… can anyone hear me? We need to link visual feeds stat! ” More static. “ Dammit. ” It didn ’ t resemble any structures developed at the labs, and the colours and temperature were way off, well above that of extreme hyperthermia. She was sure of one thing, and that was that it wasn ’ t naturally occurring, the reflection of her pulses hinting at metals. “ Anyone? ” Time was ticking, nearing the two minute mark, and Tech chose to keep moving forward, neutralizing the traces of paste coating the honeycombs. Whatever would happen next would be in the Surgeon ’ s hands, as she felt herself shaking, sweat lining on her forehead and dripping along the wires. The capsule was rattled by an upward flake of paste and was thrown on a strand. Mobility was compromised, and the sensors were freaking out the closer they got. A flash of fear ran across her eyes, as she came to the realization, and rushed to begin disconnect procedures. Stuck! The wires didn ’ t give way and the interface seemed sealed shut for some reason. She punched at the wall and all she could do was watch her probes hit the patient ’ s tissue. The compound detector was overheating and showing odd substances, the thermometer of the capsule showing the temperature rising in a frenzy, threatening to fully sever the link. The strand began glowing in a high spectrum, sending pulses of light further inside the tunnel. Not human. 

