This was it. This was the moment Gael had been waiting over 2 years for...and now, it was finally coming to fruition.

7 years ago, Gael had been serving in the intergalactic military on an off-planet operation, where he was stationed in a neighbouring solar system known as Galaxan XVII-34, on the planet Qilmar. He, along with hundreds of others, had been stationed there to oppose a recent rising rebellion against the local government that was on the cusp of turning into a civil war. Gael spent years of his life touring with his comrades, getting to know them, and building lasting friendships...and it was all destroyed in an instant by an ambush by rebel forces. He barely made it out alive, but his friends and his legs did not.

Not having legs any more was probably the most life-changing thing that Gael could have experienced, but it was made all the more frustrating by the way the intergalactic military treated him. When it was clear he could no longer serve, he was formally discharged and returned hom with a pittance of governmental allowance as compensation for his irrevocably changed life...whilst it was enough to get by, there was barely little else to make his life easier. He was forced to move back in with his parents, and for a time he couldn't even work due to the phantom pain in his non-existant legs. They had been blown off just above the knee and he dealt with horrendous pain on a daily basis for a year or so before it started to get easier. He got a job, working office hours at a company that didn't require him to get up and move often...and even when he did, it was through a wheelchair. 

Over time, resentment boiled within him, riddled with survivor's guilt, and he tried desperately to seek ways that he could walk again. Doctors turned him away after one or two consultations every time; the problem wasn't just his legs, but the nerve endings. Even if he had prosthetics, he'd never be able to reliably walk as he used to, because there was no feeling in fake legs. He'd be used to use canes to get around with them on, so whilst they may look normal, it would just as much misery as a wheelchair. Every doctor said the same thing, and he became more and more bitter. He started to become more of a recluse; he didn't go out to meet friends, didn't even remotely consider the dating scene, and started to slip in his work. He was ready to give up.

It was then that Connections approached him. They introduced themselves as an R&D company dedicated to helping those with physical disabilities, and had been experimenting with a number of new products they were hoping to put on the market within the next few years. They were straight and to the point: they wanted to offer Gael the opportunity to take part in an experimental trial for new prosthetics. Gael, in his cynical and bitter attitude, felt like it was a scam-- he'd heard what the doctors had said-- but the representative of the company assured him this was different; these were prosthetics that directly made connections to the wearers nervous system, and with their brain. It sounded like magic to Gael, who had lived amongst 22nd century architecture and technology since he was a kid, but they were insistent, but not pushy. They implored him to think about it, but expressed it would be a free procedure, but also completely experimental-- he'd be the first trial patient, and they were keen to see how it'd affect an anthropomorphic canine.

Gael didn't hesitated to accept. 2 weeks later, he was waking up in their facilities after a length, several hour procedure. Part of the work for the prosthetics involved melding a 'receiver' into each leg-- or rather, stump-- in order for the prosthetic to connect properly to his body. When he first woke, the pain had been unbearable, but a steady flow of drugs helped to keep it down. It took him almost a full week to recover to a point where they were ready to move to the next step, which Gael is now patiently waiting for.

After waiting for what feels like an eternity, a nurse finally comes to see him, and they situate him in a wheelchair before taking him across the building towards another room, that's arguably more spacious than the last, without any sort of available hospital bed inside. There, a doctor waits for him, and Gael's gaze immediately snaps to a pair of sleek, shiny black legs leaning up against a counter in the far corner, where a handful of lab equipment sits on its surface.

"Is that them?" Gael asks tentatively as he's parked opposite the doctor, who approaches and crouches down, getting on one knee. He lifts up the front of the canine's hospital gown and reveals the extent of the procedure; it's like the stump of Gael's amputated legs has been capped with a thick metal disc, with his fur disappearing beneath the lip of metal. The end surface of the 'cap' has a receptive black centre and screws dotting the outside, and as the doctor lifts Gael's fur to see the flesh beneath, he hums.

"You're still a little tender...but I believe we can try it," He beams up at the canine, his own otter face wrinkling. "Are you ready?"

Gael sucks in a breath and swallows his nerves, nodding. He watches as the nurse steps across the room to grab the prosthetics, crossing the room towards them. The doctor thanks her calmly and takes one in his gloved hands, turning it over until it's roughly at the correct angle, and Gael notices that it seems to be tailored to him-- the prosthetic ends just above the knee and has a specific joint for it, and the feet are distinctively canine, with 4 toes. Slowly, the doctor holds the prosthetic close to the cap on Gael's right leg and, after a moment, there is a distinctly sharp sucking sound. The prosthetic attaches to the cap in an instant, almost magnetically.

A sharp and tender stab of pain shoots up Gael's leg and he hisses, arching his back and clutching his fingers around the arms of his wheelchair. The pain worsens, but his reaction is a mixture of discomfort, shock and joy; that aching pain isn't just felt in his thigh, but his leg...his actual leg. His body instinctively reacts in the way one might expect and he stretches his 'leg' out; his eyes bulge and widen when he sees the prosthetic stretch out, responding to his brain's signals.

"Ah, well, I see it's working." The doctor laughs, having narrowly escaped being kicked in the shin. He gestures to the nurse, who hands him the other one, and this time he wastes no time in lining it up. That same suction sound assaults Gael's ears and he lets out a gasp as the second leg connects, and the prosthetic stretches out along with the first. At this point, he doesn't even care about the pain; tears stream down his face when his legs bend at his will. He tries to wiggle his toes, and the metal paws wriggle at his command, a little rusty but moving nonetheless. The doctor watches him for a moment, looking teary-eyed himself at the canine's sheer, unbridled joy.

"Do you feel this?" He asked, reaching down and curling a hand just beneath the canine's ankle. When his fingers touch with the metal, Gael jolts upright, stifling a cob, and reaches up a hand to cover his muzzle. He can't even choke the word out-- all he can do is fervently nod, before he sinks his head into his hands. He hears the nurses chuckling around him as he practically bawls in front of them.

He can just tell that this'll be the start of something life-changing.