Tycho grimaced as he pressed his hand to his abdomen, trying to slow the bleeding. He turned, trying to rip at the sleeve of his flight suit to make an improvised bandage ... not enough fabric. He might have to go for the leg. Fortunately, before he could bend over, he was momentarily distracted by the characters that were appearing on the floor in Rhiow's wake.

"Uh." Tycho blinked. "Rhiow ...? You're not ...?" His face crinkled in confusion at her questions, but he began to answer them, even as he winced as the movements of his chest stretched the cuts, causing more blood to leak over his fingers. Grimacing again, he pressed his other hand to his chest as well. "Colonel Tycho Celchu, born XXXXX by the Alderaanian standard calender, Aldera City, Alderaan ..." A pause for breath, and more blood flowed over his fingers. Two hands was not enough to cover the wounds completely. They were relatively shallow, but still, he'd been bleeding long enough that he was starting to feel a little dizzy. "Favorite time of day is- uh-" Tycho shook his head. "Early morning?" he tried. "Rhiow, what are you ...?"