Mica Chanda
Character
"Doc, got another one for you. Returner, asked for you specifically."
Chanda rolled her eyes at the nickname. She hated going by Doctor, she wasn't interested in the weird looks it gave her. Snatching up her datpad and shooting a dirty look at the droid who was already processing the next poor soul who had wandered into this particular med bay on the space port outside Courscant.
The sterile environment only served to make people a little more off-put by the gray hue to her skin offset by the dark black of her eyes. She usually wrapped something colorful around her neck to keep people from noticing, but while she worked the shifts she picked up on her father's good name, she was destined for the stark white top of all the medics. Hers had the turquoise bar across her chest where a name should go, marking her as a visiting doctor, rather than a staffer. She was here for the credits and to get moving on to the next port. She hated being sedentary, besides, no one hired her for longer than a month or so. She tended to either bring trouble or make trouble and she knew it.
"Who the frakk comes in here in the middle of the night this many times," She growled, marching over to the bed where the patient was being asked routine questions by a droid.
"PLEASE RATE THE SEVERITY OF YOUR PAIN BY POINTING TO THE CORRESPONDING FACE ON YOUR CHART, LEVEL ONE IS-"
Chanda cut in front of the droid, scowling down at the name on the chart she grabbed from it. Returners sucked, especially the ones that asked for her, anywhere. The droid beeped at her in indignance and wheeled backward slightly. If it could mutter under its breath it would. The man on the bed coughed and smiled up at her.
"Hey, Doc." Selah Braxter was an idiot, an old soldier who had to retire but didn't have the fight out of him yet. She had met him outside of the clinic first, at the bar she usually went to on this particular space port to drink and occasionally land a few punches when she was in the sort of mood. Selah wasn't one she hit but she had seen him before and he knew she worked for the clinic and always asked for her when he knew she was in the system. He had helped her a few times with her own injuries, a stitch or two placed when she couldn't do it herself or an arm to get her back to her quarters shed rented.
"Selah, you're a force-damned nightmare," she responded, pulling up his list of complaints he had given to the droid.
"You only say that to the pretty ones," the old soldier responded, smiling through a wince. Mica rolled her eyes and tied up her hair as the droid brought a couple bacta pacs over.
"Careful, Selah, or you'll end up paying for my dinner," she said as she began to examine the bruises and cuts on his face and neck. He had gotten into a bad scrape with too many of the wrong people tonight apparently.
"Is that a date you're offering, Doc?" He was smiling still but she could see the tension in his limbs as she probed the side of his head, saw his pupils blown out.
Damn. She tapped a few instructions on her data pad to order a scan of his head but she knew what she'd find. It was what she saw most on the fighters she had stitched up over her time in clinics. He had a massive concussion and by the way he was titling his head, his eardrum on his left side may have been punctured.
She pursed her lips and rocked back on her heels. Selah was watching her closely. "It bad?" He asked, his words softer, slightly slurred. Mica jerked her head affirmative.
"I got you, though, soldier," she said before turning on her heel to the droids who could get the instruments she needed.
Their response made her curse louder enough to draw the attention of the whole med bay.
---
Denon
She had taken a few days to stem off the worst of Selah's bleeding and packed him with enough bacta to keep him pain free and stable before she returned. It had taken some serious wrangling to figure out where she could request the best cochlear implant and possibly investigate if there was anything she could do about the damage suffered to his brain after the swelling was down.
The main Doctor on staff had pointed her in the direction of Sakura Welfare who were well known and close by. She had closed up her last shift and sent out a request to meet someone from the corporation to see about buying a few with what limited requisition moment the clinic had and her own pay. Force if she was going to let Selah go deaf and infirm on her watch. She couldn't care less about any of the other damned people on the station, but Selah was one of hers.
She had arranged to meet the representative at the entrance port to transport over to wherever it is they wanted to conduct business. She had arrived on the first transport in the morning to grab food from one of the vendors and smoke a cig. The smoke made her nerves feel less jittery and kept her temper in check. She'd be dealing her own justice for Selah after she fixed him.
Now it was just to wait for the rep and get the tech she needed.
[member="Ayumi Pallopides"]
Chanda rolled her eyes at the nickname. She hated going by Doctor, she wasn't interested in the weird looks it gave her. Snatching up her datpad and shooting a dirty look at the droid who was already processing the next poor soul who had wandered into this particular med bay on the space port outside Courscant.
The sterile environment only served to make people a little more off-put by the gray hue to her skin offset by the dark black of her eyes. She usually wrapped something colorful around her neck to keep people from noticing, but while she worked the shifts she picked up on her father's good name, she was destined for the stark white top of all the medics. Hers had the turquoise bar across her chest where a name should go, marking her as a visiting doctor, rather than a staffer. She was here for the credits and to get moving on to the next port. She hated being sedentary, besides, no one hired her for longer than a month or so. She tended to either bring trouble or make trouble and she knew it.
"Who the frakk comes in here in the middle of the night this many times," She growled, marching over to the bed where the patient was being asked routine questions by a droid.
"PLEASE RATE THE SEVERITY OF YOUR PAIN BY POINTING TO THE CORRESPONDING FACE ON YOUR CHART, LEVEL ONE IS-"
Chanda cut in front of the droid, scowling down at the name on the chart she grabbed from it. Returners sucked, especially the ones that asked for her, anywhere. The droid beeped at her in indignance and wheeled backward slightly. If it could mutter under its breath it would. The man on the bed coughed and smiled up at her.
"Hey, Doc." Selah Braxter was an idiot, an old soldier who had to retire but didn't have the fight out of him yet. She had met him outside of the clinic first, at the bar she usually went to on this particular space port to drink and occasionally land a few punches when she was in the sort of mood. Selah wasn't one she hit but she had seen him before and he knew she worked for the clinic and always asked for her when he knew she was in the system. He had helped her a few times with her own injuries, a stitch or two placed when she couldn't do it herself or an arm to get her back to her quarters shed rented.
"Selah, you're a force-damned nightmare," she responded, pulling up his list of complaints he had given to the droid.
"You only say that to the pretty ones," the old soldier responded, smiling through a wince. Mica rolled her eyes and tied up her hair as the droid brought a couple bacta pacs over.
"Careful, Selah, or you'll end up paying for my dinner," she said as she began to examine the bruises and cuts on his face and neck. He had gotten into a bad scrape with too many of the wrong people tonight apparently.
"Is that a date you're offering, Doc?" He was smiling still but she could see the tension in his limbs as she probed the side of his head, saw his pupils blown out.
Damn. She tapped a few instructions on her data pad to order a scan of his head but she knew what she'd find. It was what she saw most on the fighters she had stitched up over her time in clinics. He had a massive concussion and by the way he was titling his head, his eardrum on his left side may have been punctured.
She pursed her lips and rocked back on her heels. Selah was watching her closely. "It bad?" He asked, his words softer, slightly slurred. Mica jerked her head affirmative.
"I got you, though, soldier," she said before turning on her heel to the droids who could get the instruments she needed.
Their response made her curse louder enough to draw the attention of the whole med bay.
---
Denon
She had taken a few days to stem off the worst of Selah's bleeding and packed him with enough bacta to keep him pain free and stable before she returned. It had taken some serious wrangling to figure out where she could request the best cochlear implant and possibly investigate if there was anything she could do about the damage suffered to his brain after the swelling was down.
The main Doctor on staff had pointed her in the direction of Sakura Welfare who were well known and close by. She had closed up her last shift and sent out a request to meet someone from the corporation to see about buying a few with what limited requisition moment the clinic had and her own pay. Force if she was going to let Selah go deaf and infirm on her watch. She couldn't care less about any of the other damned people on the station, but Selah was one of hers.
She had arranged to meet the representative at the entrance port to transport over to wherever it is they wanted to conduct business. She had arrived on the first transport in the morning to grab food from one of the vendors and smoke a cig. The smoke made her nerves feel less jittery and kept her temper in check. She'd be dealing her own justice for Selah after she fixed him.
Now it was just to wait for the rep and get the tech she needed.
[member="Ayumi Pallopides"]