Combat medic
Republic Military Base - High Republic Era
If you asked Cordal Renth, he would say that the enlisted club was one of the best spots in the Republic Military. There was always an ample supply of crappy booze. Crappy music and soldiers that didn't ask too many questions after long days.
Which is exactly what he was enjoying tonight.
Sitting at a table near the back of the club was Samuel "Doc" Renfroe. The large man took up the entirety of the small chair he was sitting in. His combat armor was swapped out for a simple undershirt and fatigues. A pair of old, beat-up boots completed the look. On his chest was his medical sigil pendant. It caught the light each time he took a sip from the bottle that rested next to his arm.
In front of him was a plate of what the mess hall believed was Nerf Steak. Doc had seen better food while out on the front line. He wasn't sure what they served him tonight was even alive to begin with.
Using his fork, he stabbed at it.
"Better-looking corpses," Doc commented.
A Corporal sitting across from him laughed so hard he nearly spit out his drink.
"Oh, come on, Doc. It's not that bad."
Doc looked at him with one raised eyebrow.
"Kid, I have pulled out more pieces of shrapnel than I can count. From bodies that went through at least 3 walls. I've treated people that would make a Rancor puke. I know what dead meat looks like, and your steak reminds me of that."
The whole table burst into laughter.
This was life with Doc. No matter how rough your day was you could always find a way to lighten the mood when he was around.
After spending most of the day patching up a droid mechanic who stuck his hand in to far into a broken repulsor unit. Along with a couple of Troopers who got injured during training and one very angry Quartermaster that thought he didn't need to see a medic for his sprained ankle.
He informed the Quartermaster about ligaments. And how just because you were a Officer didn't mean you knew what your doing when it came to medicine.
Two very useful lectures if you asked Doc.
But now he was finally done for the night.
No one was bleeding on his boots. No one was yelling for him to patch them up. Or asking him to do miracles with equipment that was outdated.
He leaned back in his chair with a content sigh.
"Now THIS is what I want to be paid for. Sitting down and drinking alcohol. I hope that stuff is at least a little bit alcohol."
"You would get bored after 10 minutes." One of the older Sergeants stated.
"5, but don't ruin the moment."
On the club's holo screen was some old spacer's music playing. The sound was being drowned out by everyone talking. Two Troopers near the bar were arguing about a game of Sabacc they played last week. Someone was trying to convince everyone that a Maintenance Droid stole a full crate of Rations.
It was a normal night.
Normal nights were good. Doc knew that.
He had seen entire colonies burn to the ground. People die because he couldn't get to them in time. Held peoples hands as they took their last breaths.
Things that stayed with you.
But for now he could forget about all of that.
For a little while.
His data pad beeped.
Doc didn't pay it any mind.
It beeped again.
He glanced over at his data pad.
"If this is some Supply order, I will send the Quartermaster to bed rest for a week and prescribe them common sense."
"Maybe check it, Doc. Could be something."
"There is always something in this organization. But it's not necessarily something to me."
The data pad beeped one more time.
Doc grabbed it off of the table. With the attitude of a man who was about to perform surgery on someone he hated.
It was a Official Message from the Republic Military.
PRIORITY: PERSONNEL COMMAND CLASSIFICATION: OFFICIAL - COMMAND AUTHORITY RECIPIENT: SERGEANT SAMUEL RENFROE SUBJECT: PROMOTION AND REASSIGNMENT ORDERS
Doc's face changed.
He wasn't one to jump up and shout what was happening to the rest of the room. But his smile faded. Everyone who worked with Doc knew that look.
He set his drink down and read the message.
Doc stared at the screen.
Then read it again.
Just to make sure the Republic hadn't glitched out.
"Aw shit," Doc mumbled.
"What?" The Corporal asked leaning closer.
Doc didn't respond right away. He scrolled through his orders, making sure everything was legit.
Yes, it was legit.
Doc had been promoted to Lieutenant.
Of course the republic wanted him to become an idiot that wore an Officer Badge.
Doc stroked his mustache.
" Well, at least I won't have to attend officers' meetings anymore."
"WAIT WHAT?" The Corporal responded.
Doc held up his data pad and turned it to show the rest of the table.
"I believe congratulations are in order. Looks like I am now a Lieutenant."
The table was silent for a second.
Then the Corporal jumped to his feet. Nearly knocking over his drink.
"YOU'RE AN OFFICER! DOC, YOU'RE AN OFFICER!"
"Wow, smart kid."
The older Sergeant slapped Doc on the back hard enough to knock the food off the table.
"About time, Renfroe."
"What? About time they give me more paperwork to deal with? Been fighting paperwork since I joined. At least now I can force others to do it."
Everyone around the table started laughing. Others began to hear the news and joined in.
"DOC'S A LIEUTENANT!"
"HIDE YOUR MEDICAL REGULATION BOOKS!"
"SOMEONE TELL THE COMMANDING OFFICER HE'S IN TROUBLE!"
Doc raised his glass.
"Go ahead, laugh. I remember all of you when I start checking your barracks."
More laughter filled the air. Some even gave mock salutes.
Doc smiled.
He felt proud. It was a feeling he wasn't used to. Normally he would try to downplay it. But tonight he let it sit.
He never wanted to be an Officer. Or receive any type of commendation. He just wanted to make sure no one had to go through the pain of losing a loved one like he did.
Rank didn't mean anything on the battlefield.
To those who were injured, they didn't care if you were a Lieutenant or Private.
They were all equal.
But Doc knew that this meant something. That someone saw what he did out there. Helping others when they didn't have a chance.
Doc thought of his Father.
What would he say?
Probably to keep his head down and take care of his patients.
Then complain about the drinking.
Doc shook that thought from his mind.
"Don't get sappy on me now. You'll ruin your image."
He looked back down at his data pad. There were orders that told him where he was being sent. Along with instructions on when to report.
He would have to leave all of these people behind. And go somewhere else.
Who knows what was waiting for him.
Doc sighed.
"I guess I'm leaving."
"Where are you going?" The Sergeant asked.
"That's what I'm trying to find out." Doc pointed at his Data Pad. "Apparently I'm needed somewhere. So they sent me my travel orders and where to report."
"That sounds important."
"When they stamp it with a Republic Seal everything sounds important."
"Do you think you'll go?"
Doc looked down at his orders.
Thought about all the people he helped. All the lives he saved.
And all the ones he couldn't.
He looked up.
"Son I've been traveling to where people need help my entire career. Don't see why I would stop now."
Doc picked up his drink and placed it back down.
"I doubt they will know how to handle an Officer that thinks like me."
"So do we call you Lieutenant Renfroe now?"
Doc gave him a look.
"You can call me Doc."
"But your a Lieutenant."
"And your a Corporal. I'm not gonna call you by your title every time you speak are I?"
Everyone at the table laughed.
Doc chuckled to himself. He pulled up his data pad and accepted the orders.
Once he hit acknowledge a chime sounded.
PROMOTION TO LIEUTENANT: ACCEPTED
REASSIGNMENT ORDERS: ACCEPTED
Doc was now officially a Lieutenant.
He stared at his Data Pad for a second.
"Well I suppose I better finish up the night as a Enlisted Man."
"To Lieutenant Renfroe." The Sergeant said raising his glass.
"To Doc." Said the Corporal.
One by one the rest of the table did the same.
"Aw shut up all of you. You're acting like I grew a new head. I'm still the same dumbass I was yesterday."
"He's a Lieutenant AND an Idiot. That's scary." Someone from another table called out.
"Watch it! Now I have power to make your life miserable!"
Everyone laughed.
It was nice to have a night like this.
No Wounded to tend to. No lives being put in danger.
Just good people hanging out and enjoying themselves.
Before too long Doc would pack up his gear. Suit up and report to his new assignment.
Put on his armor and new Rank Pin.
And go where ever the Republic needed him.
Somewhere out there someone was laying on the ground covered in blood. Looking up at the stars wondering if anyone was coming.
Then they would hear a voice.
"Alright you piece of shit let's take a look at you."
Whether he was a Lieutenant or not. Doc would always be Doc.
And he would continue to help others until his dying breath.
Doc just received his Promotion.