[FO] Aftermath

[Preliat Mantis]

He gripped the sides of the table some time later, bending the steel where his mighty hands lay. He sat upright, and felt the pain in his chest. He screamed, but found it painful even moreso to speak. His collapsed lung had been stabilized, and the sucking chest wound was seen to. He looked around, seeing the doctors around him. His face was battered, bruised, and cut in several places. Most of his face was swollen. His arms were covered in cuts and bruises. He had hairline fractures all over his body- and that was what he could immediately feel upon gaining consciousness. He rotated his head, before falling back down. His body wouldn't give more than that- it could barely hold himself to the mortal plane, let alone retain a coherent, awake state.

He smelled her- however. He felt her. She was there. The one who he had crossed paths with before. She couldn't touch his mind from the state of his birth, but she could damn well feel him. He knew that much about the force. They couldn't read his mind or influence it with their trickery, but they could damn well feel him. And he was radiating rage, confusion- hate. He was a pulsating force of energy of malice, a bleeding cut in the force. He had endured so much and retained so much hatred. He never found the strength to let it go. Never found a reason to let it go, either.

And almost dying seemed to make it even worse.

He thrashed on the table. He was having a spasm. Doctors rushed to incubate him to make sure he would still be able to keep going on the galaxy, murdering and maiming.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He let Irajah leave, there was no more reason for her to remain among their company.

Nor did he require whatever medical professional she would send his way, for he possessed an individual who was intimately knowledgeable in the field of medicine as much as she was. He hauled himself back up on the exam table, the darkness abating to reveal the worst of his wounds to the beak-masked doctor who began to analyze and treat whatever ailments that may be afflicting him. He didn't mind Ashin's presence, if she had wanted him dead she would have done something long ago, and as far as he was concerned she had no reason to want to see him die unless she had become infinitely more empathetic to the pathetic people of the war-torn galaxy.

"We all make compromises, Ashin, I pride myself on my adaptability. So long as the First Order's goals align with my own, then I have no qualms working alongside them to destroy the Alliance." There were, of course, a multitude of aspects of the First Order than he found particularly distasteful, but there was no reason to give those a voice as they rode high off the victory at Mustafar. "You of all people should know a thing or two about that."

[member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Ashin Karrde"] | [member="Raziel"]​

 

[Raziel]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

"Well at least there's that I suppose," mumbled a low voice as Irajah passed him. "Yes, could have been a lot worse."

Of course, the Krath Lord turned information broker didn't know about the other Zambrano in the equation. But the hospital staff member he was right now could well have just been muttering to himself about the information on the charts he was reading intently. Though there did seem to be an undercurrent of distaste to the statement.

 

[Alleycat]

FO Medical Frigate FIV Halstead​

Somewhere between Mustafar and Dosuun.
---


Brask'air'sabosen had just finished her rounds on all her patients in the Intensive Care Unit and was going to sit down at the nurse's station to write orders when alarms started going off for the patient only known as John Doe 007. [member="Rolf Amsel"]'s bacta tank was at the other end of the ward. The blue-skinned near human got up quickly and moved with purposeful strides down the corridor toward where nurses and corpsmen were already extracting the injured stormtrooper out of the bacta tank under the supervision of a 2-1B surgical droid with its counterpart, a FX-series medical assistant droid, attending as the man's condition decompensated into code status. His nearly nude body was placed onto a specialized table that had drainage slots to catch any of the precious bacta dripping off his battered flesh. It would be sterilized along with the life saving fluid in the tank to be reused either for him if he should survive or another patient.

"Report!" Karisa inquired curtly as her own keen crimson eyes assessed the situation at hand for herself so she may agree or not with the advanced droid's medical findings.

"Patient JD-Zero-Zero-Seven is experiencing massive heart and lung failure due to poor pump function with an ejection faction less than ten percent, and pulmonary emboli accounting for desaturations into the low 80's, though the differential diagnosis could also be disseminated intravascular coagulation due to multiple blood infusions causing multisystem-organ failure. The patient has also experienced a seizure post traumatic brain injury for which he has been given anti-seizure medication to counter that, though unfortunately while seizing his chest tube was dislodged causing serosanguineous fluid to seep out into the bacta solution. Double-O-Seven will die without immediate intervention, Dr. K. I suggest an emergent heart-lung cybernetic transplant. It is his only hope, I'm afraid."

The Chiss doctor's glowing red eyes looked over at the masculine-programed humanoid-like droid, whose tone of mechanical voice almost sounded like it personally cared for the poor human dying before their eyes. Karisa cared though she was mostly driven by the fact she wanted a successful outcome as a result. It was cold, but that is how the Chiss was trained to think, which allowed her to push other distractions aside such as emotions so she could give her best efforts in seeing the patient received the most beneficial care, and also that of the faction for which they served.

"I concur, Too-Onebee, cybernetic replacement organs are our only option here. Have the operating room prepped stat for this surgery and let us move the patient there now. Also FX, alert the blood bank we will need FFP, platelets, and cryo on standby in case we are indeed dealing with a case of DIC. Time is our enemy now."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Raziel"]

"Oh, I do know, never doubt that. I know what a leash feels like. I know how to wait for the right time to move, and in the meantime just smile and nod and keep myself in check. I wonder what you'll do when the kennel gets claustrophobic and the leash starts to really chafe. More to the point, I wonder what emergency measures the First Order has arranged for that day.

"But then again, perhaps you're soul mates. Perhaps you have enough in common for a long and healthy relationship, taking advantage of each other evenly and mutually. Equals. I'm sure they see it that way."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Doctor Vain was hard at work patching up the various minor wounds that littered the Sith Lord's body, and shortly after Ashin's last words the final wound was stitched up and disinfected. The Doctor pocketed their tools and bowed their head before shuffling off into the corner, staying silent and relatively unseen for the rest of the conversation.

Kaine chuckled, "They have their measures and I have mine, it does not matter. They are flushed with victory."

He swung his legs back over the exam table and rose once more, the darkness returning to conceal his stitched up flesh from sight save for his battle-scarred face. "And let them bathe in their spoils, their victory was hard-won with strength of arms and the blood of their people. They will know of my contributions, for I brought the Barkhesh world shield to its knees."

[member="Ashin Karrde"] | [member="Raziel"]​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

That smile danced about Ashin's lips. "Well, you would know best, I suppose. But then again, I can't help but feel there'll come a day when your new friends ask too much of you, or grow tired of your tactics and hobbies. Somehow I doubt your measures will measure up to theirs."

She lifted her chin. "Fair warning. When that day comes, I'll remember that you stood by and did nothing while your allies tortured my wife on Selvaris. I don't know what I'll do or not do on that day, but I promise you it'll be appropriate."

She turned and headed back through the door.

"Force construct for clothing, Kaine?" she said over her shoulder. "Don't visit Myrkr anytime soon."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Another laugh, "Your desire for vengeance is misplaced, Ashin."

He took a step towards her, nothing threatening or anything of the sort, just to compensate for the distance made by her moving to leave the room. The darkness seemed to simmer around his body in agitation, a visible echo of his current emotion.

"By the time I was made aware of Spencer's condition you had already begun to liberate her, do not lay the blame at my feet for the Wrath's crimes. You know me better than to meddle in your marital affairs."

[member="Ashin Karrde"]​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Carnifex"]

Her mouth tightened, half in a smile and half definitely not. She didn't turn, didn't pause, didn't answer, just kept walking down the hospital hall. There were worse things in life than letting the other person get the last word, especially when the alternative was to escalate. She hadn't come here for that, and not every situation demanded escalation.

Mentally, as one does, she rehearsed the things she wasn't going to say. All of them were precipitous. Prodding, irritating, and unsettling Kaine might be all well and good, but making a real enemy of him wasn't on the agenda.

Even so, she made a note to track down that doctor...

 

[Preliat Mantis]

He came to. The Wolf came to, reaching out- trying to get his bearings. Trying to get a grip of where he was, and what the damage was. As soon as he tried to move, he felt the damage first hand. He grunted in pain. It hurt to simply breathe, let alone move. He reached out, moving his arm- adjusting to the level of pain it inflicted him. Eventually, it became dull. He looked at his hand. Scrapes and cuts ran up his arm, but not his hand. The Olympian armor wasn't Beskar- it would benefit him to remember that fact from this point forward. Less protection. Had to change tactics.

He shifted in his position to sit up, screaming in pain. A nurse rushed to his aide, and he promptly ushered her away. He looked at her dead in the face, narrowing his eyes."Find her."He asked, and the nurse suddenly became overcome with fear- she ran off to find the person that put forth the effort to maintain Preliat's life. He knew she was there. [member="Ashin Karrde"] was a force of nature, a presence that Preliat needn't need the force to feel. His hands looked at the white sheets, and the squeaky clean room. It felt out of place that he was there.

And he knew she had something to do with it. The only question was, was why.

 

[Kuzo]

Normally, the concerned muttering from another Doctor would have been enough to capture Irajah's full attention. Up until recently, after all, being a Doctor had been the very foundation on which her life had been built. Her hands balled into fists. While she'd made her peace with the cybernetics, the actions of [member="Darth Carnifex"] had taken some of that from her- the cybernetics couldn't hold a candle to the natural dexterity of her own fingers. There were certain things, certain aspects of her very identity, that she would never be able to do again.

Hazel eyes glanced briefly in [member="Raziel"]'s direction, but she kept moving. Absently she reached up, brushing at the heavy fringe of bangs across her forehead. For a moment, the hexagram carved into her skin by [member="Darth Carnifex"] was visible, before she passed him.

There was too much, with the weight of memories from that night to worry about another doctor's case. Without thinking about it, she turned back into [member="Pharazon Draken"]'s room. She had other patients, other work to do. But she was no good whatsoever like this and she knew it.

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=11pt]The dreamless sleep and utter lack of awareness calmed both mind and body as Pharazon lay comfortably still. His great chest expanded and contracted in deep and smooth breaths, and his heart beat steadily, the rhythmic beeping of the adjacent heart [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]monitor[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] strong and uninterrupted. The redness around his eyes remained, his cheeks were still partly damp, but the facial muscles nearly perpetually sternly affected while he was awake, were relaxed. A visage of peaceful serenity graced his face. However, his eyes began to flutter open again slowly, though not disturbed or abruptly as he had awoken the first time when he had discovered his missing leg.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He had heard someone enter his room, his hearing and sight clearer now as he awoke once again, his natural awareness and instincts beginning to return to him. He felt refreshed, still tired but now mostly pain free but not drug addled. Blinking the last vestiges of sleep from his still red and puffy eyes, he inclined his head to see who had entered his room. Recognising [member="Irajah Ven"] as she entered, he smiled weakly at her, his eyes and face welcoming. As he watched her enter, however, he noticed she seemed preoccupied, perhaps upset but at the very least worried or emotionally different than the first time she had been in his room. Pharazon did not say anything or ask anything, he knew better than to pry even if he had noticed something and he did not want to play any social games. Mentally, he also knew that he was still under the effects of powerful painkillers even if his mind and eyes were clearer now. Thus he considered it prudent to err on the side of caution in regards to his body language and facial expression recognition abilities at this moment.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Thank you for coming back” he said, smile returning. His voice was still weak and quieter than normal, though he could now properly string words together into a cohesive sentence.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I..." he began, pausing for a moment as his mind sought the right words, mind still clouded to a limited extent. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I am happy to see you seem to have fully recovered and are not in a bed like me, as I am of her excellency the Grand Moff’s survival” he went on weakly, still overly formal even in a hospital gown and missing a leg. He also tried to look her in the eyes to either calm her with his own weak charm if he still could put people at ease with a rather prominent and imposing scar on his right cheek rather marring his smile, or at least distract her from her thoughts.[/SIZE]

“I…”[SIZE=11pt] this time his pause was clearly emotional, as he glanced at his leg again before looking away quickly, suppressing the memory of the battle and his previous outpouring of sadness. [/SIZE]“I am sorry I failed you… and her excellency… I trust my men acquitted themselves proudly after I was…”[SIZE=11pt] he looked at his leg again and again forced himself to remain in outward control. Mentally, however, he was still upset, but rather than control his actions it was more a general distress that he could manage as he had done when injured in the past. He did not finish the [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]sentence[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], however, casting his eyes down and away from hers, shame overcoming his face.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Thank you for sitting with me when… when I lost control. I would not have expected any to do that for me. You have my sincerest gratitude” he looked back at her and away from his leg, putting a stop to his wandering gaze.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]His tone darkened as he spoke again, the shame and disgust he felt for himself and for allowing another to see his truest emotions evident. Though it was clear from his tone that the words were self-deprecating and horrifically ashamed in himself, a hint of menace that Pharazon could not fully hide came across though it was more desperate than threatening. “Though I must ask of you to never speak a word of what you witnessed to another”.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He knew others would have seen or heard, medical staff, other doctors, and civilians passing his room. But she had been right there, had seen it all and heard it all. Pharazon felt deeply vulnerable, and try as he might to give Irajah the benefit of the doubt for how kind she had been to him, he was raised in the Hapan Royal Court. Secrets and vulnerability if discovered invited death not only for him but for his family. He forced himself to rein in his near paranoia, and allowed himself to be at ease in her presence.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He tried to smile again, this time meekly and apologetically, "My apologies... a distasteful habit [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]from the Consortium, is there anything required of me?"[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px].[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] So he weakly smiled at her again, hoping she was not about to tell him something else was going to be amputated.[/SIZE]

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah listened as best she could while [member="Pharazon Draken"] unburdened himself. While he had regained some of his composure compared to before, she had lost some of hers. Shoulders hunched, face pinched, she perched back on the stool again as she had before, but the calm reassuring presence she had been when he'd needed her last was distinctly absent now.

"You didn't fail anyone," she said quietly. "You did your duty and then some. There was no way you could have known what would happen on Mustafar. Where the bombs would fall. And no way that you can take responsibility for it either. It was war. And you cannot take the entirety of that and our presence there onto your shoulders. No one's frame could support that."

Hazel eyes narrowed, ever so slightly however, when that hint of menace flickered into his voice. She understood, all too well, what it was like to feel vulnerable in a place where no safety seemed possible. But coupled with the events just prior to her return to his room, it brought a certain chill and distance to her words.

"I assure you, you can rely on my discretion, Captain. Beyond the realm of Doctor-Patient confidentiality-" she stopped, biting back I know what you are going through. Perhaps she could have said it, even a moment ago. It was easier, safer, to chose not to.

Her expression didn't soften, but some of the tension in her shoulders did ease when he apologized. Perhaps not at the words, but at the sincerity on his face.

Of course, she'd let her guard down for less than that in the past. And the presence of [member="Darth Carnifex"] down the hall meant that all of it was at the forefront of her mind, like stinging thorns. It took only the barest pressure from events outside of her to bring that to a full burn, and she felt far more brittle in that moment than she would ever care to admit aloud.

Was there anything she needed of him?

She didn't think there was anything that anyone could do to help her in that moment.

With startling ease, she slipped thoroughly into the mask of "Doctor Ven." It was a comfortable persona, so suitable for keeping a distance. She could shrug it on as surely as the white jacket she wore now, and use it as an armor. It made bringing her face from chilly to neutral possible.

Shaking her head, she reached out, patting his shoulder gently. Beneath the synthflesh of that hand was a cybernetic, much like the one they would use to replace his leg. But she said nothing about it.

"No, I was just coming in to check on you," she lied. It never came easily- Irajah was not a good liar. But with the drugs and the pain, she didn't expect him to catch her in it. "I said I'd come back," she smiled, but it didn't reach her eyes. "Didn't I? No. All you need to do is rest now. Someone will be in to discuss cybernetics with you in a day or two, but if you have any questions before then, you can ask me."

 

[Alleycat]

FO Medical Frigate FIV Halstead​

Inbound Dosuun, coming out of hyperspace​

​

---​

​

Brask'ari'sabosen was pleased. The emergent organ transplant had gone well for all intense purposes. The stormtrooper's new cybernetic heart and lungs were working perfectly with no signs of rejection from the host. Vital signs were now stable and labs within normal limits. Wounds had begun healing nicely after the additional twelve hour soak post surgery, his second in a matter of hours, in the life saving fluid called bacta. The patient had been extubated and was only on supplemental oxygen per nasal cannula. He was NPO at the moment; getting specifically calculated nutrition through an IV bag to enhance the human male's recovery. A tube also went into his bladder to help measure how well his kidneys were functioning as well as aid with elimination of bodily fluids in an easily handled manner.

The only concern that plagued the Chiss doctor at this point was that the unidentified and now bald soldier from the craniotomy performed had not woken up yet; still unconscious. John Doe 007's head scans and neurological exams were much improved from previous, and the subdural hematoma had resolved with no further bleeding. Dr. K had done all she could medically, now the ball was in the patient's hands to return to the known world if he so chose to.

"Trooper... Squeeze my hands if you can hear me," Karisa commanded curtly as she held both [member="Rolf Amsel"]'s large hands in her smaller ones to test if he was following verbal commands yet. He definitely moved to painful stimuli when she prodded him so his brain was still functioning at least at a moderate level, and pupils were equal and reactive as gaged by flicking a pen light at his blue orbs. All good signs yet not. The longer he stayed in a coma-like state, the worse the man's long term prognosis would be.

 

[Progflaw99]

The mist covered mountains of Dosuun? No - this was different. Everything was in a fog - perhaps Bespin? Thoughts coursed through Rolf's mind as he frantically tried to make sense of his shrouded surroundings. Snippets of his memories flicked before his eyes, the shuttle ride from space into the blackened atmosphere of Mustafar, the flash of heat as he disembarked, the muffled sound of blaster fire and the subtle recoil of the weapon in his hands. It had been a flash of excitement, then of bare-knuckled determination that had sent them barreling down the open catwalk - The Mandalorian. The memory was raw, the taste of blood permeating his senses as the man's armor struck a chord. Not only the Mandalorian, the skull painted helm of that mercenary - or at least it had to have been a mercenary. He'd never seen an Alliance soldier with that gear, nor that speed. As if to draw his memory from wandering he felt an intense pressure in his chest, his eyes cautiously looking down to the blade protruding from his chest, the wind knocked from his lungs.

The fog began to clear, replaced by a blinding light, his ears ringing. As the frequency intensified he could hear the murmur of a voice, calm, instructing - but the words were muffled. The burning sensation intensified, the pain cutting through the fog of his addled mind, words cutting through more clearly this time.

"Trooper... Squeeze my hands if you can hear me."​

​

With monumental effort Rolf tried to respond, the feeling in his hands dull - no response. He tried again, tightening the muscles in his arm as he tried to respond, he was rewarded with a slight twitch of his fingers, the once shrouded figure becoming clearer as he forced his eyes open. A woman, Chiss, stood over him, her hand cold to the touch - or maybe that was just him. With a renewed strength he forced himself to breath in, his lungs burning slightly as he pinched gently. He could move - that was good, but where was he? The last thing he remembered seeing was the floor of the corridor, broken bodies and shattered armor. He must have been evacuated, but was he in First Order hands, or Alliance? His eyes looked up into the crimson gaze of the Chiss doctor, searching for answers as he tried to find his voice.

[member="Brask'ari'sabosen"]​

 

[Alleycat]

FIV Halstead
Inbound Dosuun

It took a moment... a long moment, one where the Chiss doctor unknowingly held her breath for, then there was the tiniest of movements; a twitch of the stormtrooper's trigger finger perhaps? It most likely was a muscle memory, but a conscious one at that to command none the less. The man was in there. A good sign.

"Good, good... " Karisa offered in encouragement as she squeezed [member="Rolf Amsel"]'s hands back. "Now open your eyes, trooper. It is safe to do so."

Eye lids struggled to lift, then dark lashes finally fluttered slowly open illuminating a pair of blue orbs that were confused yet vibrant with life yearning for knowledge of the who, what, and how of things. Typical when someone came out of a coma that was intact mentally. Another good sign. His first sight of seeing a pair of glowing red eyes peering back at him must have been unsettling from the initial frightened look.

"Welcome back, trooper...You were wounded on Mustafar and now are being treated in the medbay aboard the FIV Halstead. I am Doctor K, Chief Medical Officer. If you understand what I just said, blink twice for yes," the blue-skinned near human instructed, then continued after getting the appropriate response.

"Your condition is stable now, though you did have substantial injuries to your heart and lungs as well as a brain bleed that in all required multiple surgeries, bacta treatments, and advance life saving modalities. You will find your throat might be sore because there was a breathing tube in it and speech a bit difficult for now as your vocal cords are still swollen some, though that should get better in time. Since you have been in a coma, we have been giving fluids, medications, and nutrition intravenously to you. There is also a catheter inserted into your bladder for elimination purposes. As you wake up more and your condition improves, which will take time though I anticipate a satisfactory recovery, these supports will be discontinued," she detailed with an affirmative nod.

"I know this is much to take in, but I need to ask you a very important question... What is your name, trooper? There was no identification on you when brought to us by the medevac," she inquired. The patient would either try to communicate by speaking or writing upon a dry erase board offered, if the former was too difficult.

While an answer was waited upon, a slight shimmer shock the ship as the medical frigate decanted from hyperspace into Dosuun air space. The Halstead would soon be in stationary orbit over Avalonia so the wounded could be transported down on shuttles to the hospital ground side for further care and rehabilitation.

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=11pt]Pharazon winced internally and to an extent externally as he picked up on her change in [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]demeanour[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], the coldness in her voice, the subtle inward fortification. Pharazon was not sure had happened to her and why she had reacted so, but he could tell and [/SIZE]feel that she had been disturbed in one way. He inwardly chastised himself Can you treat no one without suspicion or contempt, can you not even treat her, the person who could have exploited you but has not with any respect?

[SIZE=11pt]He listened to her, every fibre of his being railed against her attempts to absolve him of responsibility, they were his [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]men, those that had died had been [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]his [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]responsibility, it was all he could do to stop himself from shaking his head. But, he sighed as she spoke, releasing his building emotion, [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]she is right, you know[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. There was one part of her words however, that caused his chest to go cold, for fear to rise in him and to begin to contort his face. He had [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]felt [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]just prior to the airstrike that something was going to happen, he had [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]felt [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]he had [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]seen [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]the anti-tank round that had destroyed his leg. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]For a reason he could not describe, he looked up to her after she had finished speaking.[/SIZE] “Doctor, I know I am but a man but…”[SIZE=11pt] he began, cautious to use her title, not wanting to further offend her and disgrace herself. [/SIZE]“Prior to the X-Wings hitting the column, I swear that I was able to… did you...”[SIZE=11pt] he cut off, shaking his head, refusing to let himself continue. “No matter, I was one of the commanding officers and my [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]incapacitation[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] threatened the mission and the safety of her excellency and yourself” he dismissed those thoughts and concerns, hoping he was not now providing evidence for an overlooked mental injury.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Doctor’s words on confidentially cut into his very being, pain, embarrassment, and shame over his words coursed through him, and he looked away as she spoke, unwilling and unable to meet her gaze. Eyes downcast, face darkening in shame, he could feel her emotion, could perceive from her tone and shift in body language in his peripheral vision, she knew, she understood [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]more than he could possibly know. He could discern her drawing in on herself, though he could not possibly know why, and it hurt him, his eyes fell to his leg and his body slumped as the realisation that he had wounded if not ruined whatever connection they may have had when she had first sat with him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I have shamed you Doctor” he looked back up at her, the true extent of his exhaustion emotional and physical plain to see. “Think of me as you will, my apologies are irrelevant. You remain Doctor Ven and I Captain Draken, I do not expect you to suffer my flaws, nor should you tolerate my ignorance of your circumstances...” he continued, emotion and exhaustion in every word. He breathed out, sighing before he continued.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Men like me do not survive long on Hapes, I would face death were anyone to have seen what you saw. Though I cannot express my feelings for what you have done for me, I say this with every fibre of my being, I am indebted to you for life for the concern you have shown me this day... but I fear you cannot understand how terrified that makes me of you” Pharazon finished, voice breaking near the end, eyes betraying his fear, his unresolved emotions.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As she patted his shoulder, he could imperceptibly feel her empathy for him, though strained, tempered with her own internal struggle he could not comprehend. “You hold my life, as bloodied, broken, and honourless it is, in your hands”.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He listened only disinterestedly in her comments over his new cybernetic leg, he had assumed that he would be seen soon enough due to his rank and the severity of his injury.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]However, he smiled when she said why she had come back, he could see in her eyes that her own feelings for the situation were different, he would have been long dead had he, even drug addled, not been able to see through a false smile. But he smiled genuinely anyway, she had made good on her promise and action was superior to motive for Pharazon just this once.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You did say you would come back, thank you, I would not expect such an act from many of those I have met within this galaxy” he said smiling, before he let it fade and assumed his own professional facade, one of the many in his repertoire. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]“I have few questions concerning my eventual new… leg”[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] he said, disdain for cybernetics still obvious. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Though would I be incorrect in assuming that it will be combat effective and capable of being armoured like an actual leg? My fingers” he looked at his left hand, to find his cybernetic ring and little fingers conspicuously absent. “Speaking of which I will be needing those returned to me from wherever they have been taken, regardless I would hope the leg cybernetic is of a similar quality” he finished, perturbed that he had only just noticed the absence of his fingers.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I of course do not mean to be demanding or ungrateful, but my duties demand excellence from me and I will give the Order nothing less than perfection” he finished, tone once again firm, proud, and imperious despite his haggard, upset, and altogether exhaustive appearance.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt][member="Irajah Ven"][/SIZE]

 

[Progflaw99]

Mustafar. Halstead. Blinking rapidly he moved, trying to sit up - that was a mistake. Intense pain wracked his midsection, the pain overwhelming the trooper's senses for a moment. He lay there, gasping for air momentarily before slowly looking to the doctor and blinking twice. *Why do I have to be so stubborn* he thought to himself. He swallowed hesitantly, dry mouth plaguing him and a sore throat. He began trying to piece together what he could, his memory inhibited, almost as if a wall had been put up. His body was functioning but his mind - everything seemed so alien, so foreign to him. He understood the words coming out of her mouth, but they didn't seem to be forming a cohesive sentence. What is the designation FIV? Where is Mustafar?

As he listened to the woman speak, his eyes roamed, searching for something - anything that would help orient him. He found the hum of the vessel's engines familiar, but everything looked so.. industrial. FIV. FIV. He played around with the acronym in his mind, searching for the words. First Imperial Vessel. That made sense. Looking towards the doctor's uniform he found an insignia he recognized, a feeling of - he didn't know what he felt, or who he was even.

Reinforcing that fact, he blinked hard once as the Chiss doctor asked him his name. A scowl appeared across the man's features, slowly turning to a look of disbelief. Mouthing a word silently at first, he coughed - the pain of doing so sending a brief shot of adrenaline through his body. Speaking audibly for the first time, he mumbled, his words forming clearly in his mind but jumbled as they left.

"Im.. Iuh... I dunno. You said I'm a trooper?"​

​

As his words come to a close, his voice staggered, almost eliciting a wheeze. The amount of effort it had taken him to form even that much of a sentence.. it had been more than he had expected. As he took slow breaths, his eyes searched the doctors for information but was met with the impassive crimson - he thought it strange how he could remember things but his name was a blank space in his mind.

[member="Brask'ari'sabosen"]​

 

[Alleycat]

FIV Halstead
Stationary orbit over Avalonia
___

Brask'ari'sabosen watched her patient intently as [member="Rolf Amsel"] struggled to put thought to words and then words to voice. It was not uncommon among those with head injuries or extended CPR to have this issue upon first awaking from a coma-like state. Most of the time the notable deficit was just transitory, though in some cases permanent. Time would only tell the whole picture of this man's recovery. It would be physiological of course though mostly mental to make his comeback; sometimes that in itself was the greatest hurdle of all for a patient to overcome.

"Yes indeed I did call you trooper as you were wearing the white armor of a First Order stormtrooper when found inside the mining facility on Mustafar by a medic of the Lotus Guard. Unfortunately that armor was cut off so the medical team could evaluate and treat your injuries without delay. Perhaps if we were to exam the remains of your uniform, the mystery to your identity will solve itself, or you will simply remember who you are. The latter would be preferred from my point of view," the Chiss doctor stated with a small smile as if she was trying to be lighthearted.

A corpsman walked up to Dr. K and whispered something to her, then the blue-skinned near human turned back to the her John Doe in the intensive care bed with red eyes glowing in a pleased way one might interpret.

"The good new is we have just arrived at Dosuun, and that means you will be transferred here shortly to the medical center in Avalonia for further care and rehabilitation. In the meantime rest, you will need all your strength for your upcoming recovery. Oh and do not try to sit up again unless you are assisted by a nurse... There are tubes and lines everywhere still plus I would not want my fancy work on your new heart and lungs to go to waste," she said, padding the trooper's arm in a gentle reassuring way before turning to leave his bedside.

 

[Kuzo]

"You're not on Hapes anymore," she said quietly.

There was so much more underlying that statement. She couldn't convince him that he had nothing to fear from her. No one, no words, could take away scars that cut so deeply.

"And we both helped each other. You got me to safety on Mustafar. There is no debt. That's what people do for each other."

The last part held a sort of rote quality. It was hollow, and how empty it sounded surprised even her. It was what she had thought, once upon a time. Something she had believed, with every fiber of her being. People help each other. But by and large, the events of the last year had slowly proved to her the precise opposite of that.

That indeed people were selfish, self serving, and greedy on a basic level. Were there exceptions? Of course. But she had also come to terms with the fact that she wasn't one of them. Or that she couldn't be, and survive.

And she had found amazing people, friends and allies, where the give and take was more balanced. But strangers?

And truly, [member="Pharazon Draken"] was a stranger. For a moment, she looked away.

"Or at least, it should be."

She shrugged, as if she could physically dislodge the swirl in her mind.

"If it is easier for you, think of what we both did as duty. Yours as a soldier, to protect the people under your wing, and me as a Doctor, to treat my patients with not only my knowledge, but also my respect."

Irajah looked back at him. The next part came easier, professional.

"Your needs as a soldier of the Order will be met," she said with a nod. "This isn't our first cycle on this ride," a chagrined smile ghosted across her lips. "You aren't the first, or the last, soldier to need treatment of this nature. Some people have an easier time than others, accepting and integrating a cybernetic part."

In that she also spoke from experience.

"I dare say that the replacements will be stronger than that which was lost."

Here, her right hand flexed subconsciously. In truth, her own were not an improvement on what she had lost. But her loss was not of strength. When the ministrations of [member="Darth Carnifex"] had ceased, one of her greatest losses had been the dexterity of a surgeon's hands. A doctor was she still, but that was something lost to her now.

Her jaw tightened slightly. But she kept focused on her patient.

"I believe there are repairs being made on that digit," she said, gesturing to his hand. "I will verify, but I expect them to be ready with it the same time your leg will be."