The field kit was a small duffel bag with enough pockets to sufficiently hide medical equipment to supply an army for six months, provided there were no deadly engagements, and each of the pockets was stuffed with as many first-aid objects as could fit. It had been said on the ship that Siloux carried the entire ER in his medical kit, nurses included, but it never seemed to be enough in the field. The kit had started as a small collection of gauze, needles, and pain-killers and had slowly evolved over the ten years that Siloux had worked on the Xiaro IV. The result was that the bag weighed as much as a good-sized toddler and looked as if that same toddler had tossed the equipment into the bag from across a room.
Siloux, however, had little trouble locating the "immuno-enhancements" in the mess. He extracted a small disinfecting wipe and a pair of vials with a syringe to match and dropped the bag carefully onto the seat beside Lexx -it made an impressive clunking when it hit the wall behind. He followed the bag not shortly after, sitting just far enough away from Lexx to work.
"I'm Ventran Siloux, by the way," he introduced himself casually. He took her arm in one of his hands, using the other to work the trappings of her recon suit, which had been designed to keep out all sorts of matter, including prying doctors. Once he had loosened the straps around her wrist, he pushed the sleeve of her suit to her forearm and used the disinfecting wipe to clean the area at the crook of her elbow.
He loaded the first syringe, carefully pressing the tip into the wax cork of the electrolyte-booster and dragging the stop of the syringe slowly upward. He flipped the syringe, tapped it, and carefully pushed the stop in the opposite direction as before, just enough to expel a fraction of the liquid -and any lurking air bubbles. His eyes left his work for just a moment, locking on Lexx's heart-shaped face.
"Not afraid of needles, are you?" he asked slyly, catching the slight apprehension in her eyes.