Ughhh...

This SUCKED. Alice looked down at her truncated legs, tied off with the legs of her jumpsuit, and back up at the trail of blood she'd left while dragging herself to the medbay. She was so gonna have to clean this up herself.
She was dragged, or rather, knocked out of her reverie by a 3rd-class technician casually kicking her head out the way as she walked past, bouncing her off the wall.

"Well, we can give you new legs as a cloned replacement, but that would leave you liable for the cost of the clone they're from. Otherwise, there's prosthetics. We have a full range available, from just capping off what you've got left right up to like-new replacement limbs. But, again, cost is the issue; you'd have to keep serving in order to pay them off, as per your contract. This, I reckon, leaves you with three options."

Alice nodded, tilting her head to the side.

"Option one, I sew up what's left, and you learn to deal with it. Option two, prosthetics and a longer service to pay the option off. You're excluded from the top tier, though, because you can't serve long enough to pay them off with your projected lifespan, much like you can't pay off life extensions. Option three, you transfer me the consultation fee, and an additional fee for my time, and I put you on a stretcher and tip you back into the disposal."

Alice swallowed hard. This was a careful decision to make.

Alice grumbled as she swung the mop; standing up was HARD now, and people kept walking into her and knocking her over, and tracking blood everywhere and making her chase them down to mop it up. She'd figured it all out, though; double shifts all the way to the end of the trip, and the remainder could be made up at the spaceport. Swabbing floors or selling soycaff or whatever. Or she might have to take another trip out to get the savings she'd done this trip to GET.
And swabbing floors still beat shuttlebay duty.

Why oh why did she have to get cocky like that? Shuttlebay duty SUCKED, and she was already sunburned from the UV blasting through the forcefield, frostbitten from attaching fuel hoses to a shuttle still cold from space, and the air pressure was dialled way down to save losing it when shuttles left. At least the low gravity made moving around without legs easier.
Crap. Crap crap crap. She'd misjudged that last jump, and overshot. Definitely overshot. She hit the shuttle's hull with a solid thud, her beasts absorbing most of the impact as the air was forced out of her. She pushed herself back off the hull, letting out a wail of despair as she left a long strip of skin behind, frozen to the outer skin of the shuttle. And she'd damaged her jumpsuit! And oh void that zip was getting cold.
She whimpered, returning to her work. At least the insulated gloves worked. Mostly.

"Cosmetic surgery is extra, but there's a way you could swing it on the company dime. There's an opening in a stress reliever position, so we could transfer you there and they'd cover the modifications, including replacing all that skin."

Sure, 'stress reliever' had sounded cushy. It brought up images of massages and happy endings. Reality, as ever, sucked.
She winced as another blow struck her in the stomach, her new breasts jiggling and bouncing as she toppled over; lack of anything below mid-thigh making it hard to balance. The client grabbed her by her air, tugging her up again to sink a fist into her gut again before tugging her face down onto his enhanced cock; forcing it deep down into her throat. She gagged; it was still sensitive from the vacuum burn in the shuttle bay.
Still better than knee-deep splicecow slurry! Not that she really had knees any more.
Ugh. The least he could do would be to drink some fruit juice before using her. Ew.