Private Backstabber

[Miri Nimdok]

Disoriented, Miri awoke to white lights flashing above her. She soon realized she was lying on a stretcher being pushed down a seemingly endless hallway.

The hum of droids and other equipment surrounded her. Distant voices called back and forth to each other, shouting orders. Medical jargon mostly, none of it comprehensible to her. She shut her eyes, wishing she could be unconscious again. But no. She needed to know what was happening...

Suddenly the cot slowed as she was moved to a room. There she was lifted into a sitting position. Painkillers made it so she couldn't feel much of anything. She could only comply. Her long dark hair, much of it having escaped her braid by now, was moved over to one shoulder, and a droid used a laser to cut open the back of her purple jacket. The air reeked of burning leather.

"That was my favorite jacket..." she grumbled. Of course, it had been stabbed through by the slaver's blade anyway...

Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

“So what’s the case?”

“Miri Nimdok. Jedi padawan. Knife stab. Back.”

“Nimdok? She’s got a bit of an unlucky streak, huh?”

“I suppose, Ms. Serys. In any case, I think it best you be involved.”

“Where do you think I’m headed?”

The medical droid led Amani to the door of Miri’s room, which she barged through with little ceremony. The Chief Healer had already dealt with this one when she had been rudely assaulted and concussed by another Jedi, now here she was with a knife sticking out of her back. Or, it was supposed to be sticking out of her.

“...Where’s the knife?” Amani looked around at the gathered droids annoyedly before throwing her hands up and approaching the table, “Hey, Miri, it’s Amani. Chief Healer? We're, uh, acquainted,” The young lady was a bit out of it at the moment, unsurprisingly. A glance at her back showed that it had already been bandaged. Unprofessionally, but bandaged all the same. Possibly the only thing that kept Miri from bleeding out entirely. Carefully, Amani began unwrapping the gauze, to check the wound for herself.

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“...Where’s the knife?”

“Kyell pulled it out,” Miri groggily replied. “He was afraid it would be pushed deeper, if I was knocked back…”

“Hey, Miri, it’s Amani. Chief Healer? We're, uh, acquainted.”

Miri’s glazed eyes glanced at Amani, and she sighed. “Right. Yes. I remember…” She made a face. The memory of having her head struck against the counter was… unpleasant.

She rested her chin on her hand as Amani worked on peeling away the bandages. A combat knife had been embedded in her back by a charging slaver while she and Kyell Laysel were rescuing enslaved Chiss refugees. The wound was fairly deep, but hadn’t reached her heart. Barely.

Amani Serys​

 

[Amani Serys]

"Well, you're still here, so I guess it counts for something," Amani remarked. She didn't know enough about the situation at hand to assess how good of a call that was, but for their purposes Miri was still alive.

With the bandages off, Amani carefully examined the wound, "...Shiiit. How big was that knife?" She muttered when she realized just how close it had gotten, "Now, I'm not sure whether you're unlucky or lucky. This could have been a lot worse." Punctured lung, severed spinal cord, broken ribs (although ribs were probably still part of the equation).

A sigh, as she began to apply a bit of healing energy to the wound. Flesh and muscle began to sew back together starting from the deepest point of the injury, "Sorry, my bedside manner ain't what it used to be."

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“I dunno, he threw it away before I got a good look at it,” Miri replied. “We were in a bit of a situation. It was very hectic.”

She sighed. “As long as you aren’t rough with me, I don’t care what you say. You could even sing a song, I don’t give a hoot.”

Amani Serys

 

[Amani Serys]

"Fair enough. Adrenaline doesn't always leave room for the most practical decisions." Amani shrugged. It was the kind of mindset she had to be in, playing the role of healer. But not everyone was trained in that manner to worry about such details in the heat of a life-or-death battle.

"I think I'll spare you the singing," She chuckled, "What happened, exactly? However much you remember."

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“Oh, I don’t think Kyell knows much about healing or medical treatment,” she said with an unsteady wave of her hand. “He had good intentions, though. Can’t fault him for that.” She was obviously very fond of the man.

“Hm? Oh. We were at Beltrix—no, no we were at that slaver station. And we were slaughtering them. We went down in the lift to the next level, and they were waiting for us as soon as the door opened. One of them got up behind me during the fight and stabbed me in the back. Kyell pulled the knife out, patched me up as best he could, and tried to get me to return to where we had come in. But I didn’t want him to go on alone, so I kept going… and then some things happened, though I don’t quite remember what…”

Amani Serys

 

[Amani Serys]

"Well, like I said, you're still sitting here. So that's what counts at the end of the day." Amani said, smiling ever so faintly as Miri talked about Kyell. The padawan continued giving the rest of the story which went more or less how Amani would have guessed. Although as it ended she found herself curious.

"Some things happened?" She repeated incredulously. It stood to reason blood loss may have not been the best for her short-term memory, though. The wound finally sealed up, and Amani pulled her hand from Miri's back, "Good as new. More or less. Might be some slight scarring once everything settles."

"Do you know where Kyell is now?" And if he made it back in one piece?

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“Hm. Not bad enough that I’ll have to do away with backless dresses, hopefully.”

Realizing belatedly that Amani had asked her a question, she added, “We finished off the slavers, of course, and freed the slaves. Kyell is fine. He brought me in. You might’ve seen him around—tall, handsome, doesn’t talk.”

Amani Serys

 

[Amani Serys]

"You gotta own your scars. Wear those backless dresses," Amani grinned, then added, "It probably won't be too bad anyway. But still."

After a bit of a beat, Miri followed up on the healer's question, and Amani quietly snorted, "I know who he is." Most students in the Order she had at least a vague awareness of, seeing as she was in charge of all of their medical records. "You and Kyell work together a lot?" She asked, walking over to find something from one of her medical drawers.

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“I love backless dresses. They’re soooo elegant. Like an old holo star.” Miri lifted her long hair up for emphasis, imitating the short-haired women of another era.

“You could say that,” she murmured dreamily. Then, rather tellingly, she said, “I can’t wait to go home. Not that I don’t like you, I don’t have anything against hospitals—well, actually I sort of do—but I just prefer the comforts of home.”

Amani Serys

 

[Amani Serys]

Amani just grinned, apparently finding some enjoyment in listening to Miri talk. "Don't think I've ever even worn one," She shrugged.

It wasn't hard to pick up on the padawan's opinion of Kyell, and she hummed knowingly. "I wouldn't exactly say that's an uncommon opinion," Amani chuckled, "I'll try not to take it personally." She walked back to the exam table with some disinfectant, treating the area to make sure it stayed clean for the long run. The girl's word choice made her curious, "Do you stay at the temple? Or is home somewhere else for you?"

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

"You could pull it off," Miri said with a sage nod. "A black or blue dress would probably look really good on you. Satin or sequins. I like the satin ones more, because the sequins can scratch the inside of my arms. Satin is smooth and shiny and has that slinky look..." She trailed off, seeming to realize she was talking far too much about a subject that didn't really matter to a Jedi. They weren't supposed to care about clothes or fashion.

"My ship," she answered, fiddling with her hair. "The Conestoga. It was my father's ship. I grew up there, really. Even when I was in training, Dad would take me with him on trips whenever we had a break. Did you ever meet him? Professor Errik Nimdok. I keep running into people who knew him. I don't look much like him, but he had, um." She touched her eyebrows, then her ears, and sighed. "They always say I'm so much like him. I don't want to be just like him, but he taught me, raised me, sired me. I can't really help it if he's part of me."

Suddenly trying to change the subject, she asked, "Will I have to sleep on my stomach? I hate sleeping on my stomach."

Amani Serys

 

[Amani Serys]

"Think so?" Amani actually blushed a bit when Miri suggested she could rock one. Hardly the conversation she expected with healing this padawan's giant stab wound, but it was pleasantly engaging. People most often were when talking about something they were genuinely interested in. She found herself silently disappointed when the young woman trailed off.

"Can't say I ever did," Amani shook her head. The mirialan's tone never quite changed to reveal as much, but she picked up on the past-tense Miri employed when speaking of her father. It was a saddening realization. "Well we all often take after the people who raised us. My dad always said I was just like my mom when she was young," She smiled wistfully, "But all our experiences and influences ultimately come together to make something unique." A shrug.

"You won't have to, no, but the area might still be pretty… tender, for a couple days. So keep that in mind." Amani rested on the edge of the bed and plopped her hands into her lap, "Just take it easy during that time, and afterwards you'll be good as new."

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

"Think so?"

Miri nodded. "Your hair is shorter than mine. Well, not that much shorter... if you put it up, you could show off your back." She seemed to study Amani more closely, then said, "Actually, white satin. That's my recommendation, but any color would probably work. Except orange or red. Those don't go well with green."

She didn't seem to react much to Amani's kind words, either because she was still absorbing their meaning or didn't quite believe the healer. Amani may have found the conversation perfectly pleasant, but those who knew her would recognize immediately that Miri was behaving strangely. The strong painkillers she was on were making her very talkative...

"Good," she said. "I'm too big in the chest to comfortably sleep on my stomach. I'll just have to warn Kyell to be careful."

...and far less inhibited.

Amani Serys

 

[Amani Serys]

"White satin," Amani repeated in a murmur, then smiled, "I'll see what I can afford," A laugh. Doctors were well paid. Healers less so. But her boyfriend certainly had connections. One of these days she'd need to take advantage of that.

Miri's silence was noted, but unpressed. She hadn't really expected much of an answer anyways. Nor did she even have much follow-up material. Another mention of Kyell got Amani to nod, though, more or less confirming what she already assumed, "That would be for the best," She smirked, then stood up, "In any case, congratulations. You no longer have a giant stab wound in your back. I'd like you to stay here for a little longer as the painkillers wear off, just to monitor in case anything out of the ordinary happens. But afterwards, you'll be free to go."

"Do you need anything else from me?"

Miri Nimdok​

 

[Miri Nimdok]

“Nope. Bye.” She waved to Amani. “Oh wait—about the dress—there’s apparently a Jedi Padawan who makes stuff like that for free. Her name is… uh… Selma? Velma?… something like that. Maybe she could hook you up.”

Amani Serys

 

[Amani Serys]

"Ooookey," Amani flashed her brows at Miri's unceremonious sendoff, opening the door to walk out when the woman spoke up again, making her freeze. "Hm," She hummed, "I'll ask around and see. Thanks!" The healer smiled flatly, and waved before stepping out, "Rest easy."

Miri Nimdok​