(D6 EE) Wedding Triage

[Cole Ormont]

Cole snorted at being summoned like a dog, but approached regardless. "Right," he adjusts his mediscanner to interface with the Devaronian's cybernetics, pulling the most recent information onto his diagnostic computer. Then he turns the mediscanner on the Duros.

The new information was exactly what he needed. In fact, he experiences a flash of insight: a perfect three-prong treatment that will neutralise the toxin, halt the damage, and potentially even reverse any lingering effects. Plus, he just gained some valuable data on the cybernetic lungs, and you can never tell when a little knowledge might come in handy.


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[D6 EE] Identifying the Toxin Retry (Medicine): 2eP+2eA+2eB+2eD 6 successes, 1 advantage, 1 Triumph

[Nekoinu]

Jal Nav'loso kept his eyes on the doctor the entire time. If ever asked, he'd give an apologetic smile. "Sorry, force of habit."

Eventually, that smile became one of genuine delight. "Well I'll be damned. You're a miracle worker." He looked to the patient, his condition visibly improving on the outside. "Looks like you saved what's left of his brain."

[Cole Ormont]

Cole turns his attentions to the Duros' injuries now, deep in the zone. It seems the patient would not just live, but that the Crescent Shadow had done him a favour. Talk about being in the wrong place at the right time...


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[D6 EE] Patching Up (Medicine): 2eP+2eA+1eB+2eD 3 successes, 1 Triumph

[Vec Gunnar]

Vec emerged out of the next wave of arrivals landing on the Spaceport. Judging from the variety of injuries its passengers had and the number of wounded they were hauling out, it was obvious that they had come from that wedding. The Imperial sergeant walked with an obvious gait, doing his best to walk off the number of blaster wounds he had incurred from the fight. It wasn't an easy fight but at least the wedding wasn't boring.

"Medic!" he hollered out at no one in particular in the middle of all of the shuffle. "Got some troopers that could use some tending. They're stabilized but they'll need more than that, yeah?"

[Cole Ormont]

It only takes a glance for Cole to see that nobody appears to be in charge, and he grits his teeth, moving to the fresh influx of wounded. With easy calm that comes from expertise, Cole snatches up a triage kit and opens it, the container is crammed with 'tags': adhesive labels in four colours, diamonds three inches to a side, the thin material lit from within.

He moves through the wounded, making snap decisions. A label was affixed to each patient's chest, or as close to as could be managed, Cole pointing to the other nurses and medics, assigning them to patients. He finally caught up to where the arrivals were being brought in, directing them as they were unloaded: black and green labels were sent away, the walking wounded and the walking dead. Red and yellow went into the triage area.


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[D6 EE] Commanding Authority (Leadership): 3eA+1eD 1 success, 1 advantage


[D6 EE] Triage (Medicine): 2eP+2eA+2eD 0 successes, 3 advantage

[Vec Gunnar]

Vec blinked twice when he was handed one of the tags by the doctor in a hurry and frowned grimly, didn't think he earned some tag of import. If anything, he was planning to just take a stim and sleep the rest of it off. However, he did have places to be and couldn't quite afford to just let time do the healing instead. He grumbled to himself as he merely joined the rest of the triage, feeling like he walked into a line-up. "Thanks, Doc. Well, at least I did better than the scum that didn't make it."

[Cole Ormont]

As the incoming slow to a trickle, and more are being assigned green, Cole hands off the responsibility to someone else. He turns to address the nearest patient, "Vec, right? Cole, we met at the fancy to-do on the first day of the talks? Don't know if you remember."

He adjusts his mediscanner and sweeps it over the Imperial. "Looks like the wedding turned out to be a hell of a party," he deadpans.

[Vec Gunnar]

"Cole, right," Vec nodded slowly when he vaguely recalled Cole as the friend to the Jedi-aspiring doctor he chatted with some days ago. "More or less, I remember you. You and Ashla are friends, yeah? I think I kept mostly to the drinks and the bar. I could probably use another one fo those gathering after the one I attended today, heh."

He gave a slow shift of his shoulder, which might have been a shrug, as he did his work with his scanner. "I can't say much about the hospitality or the warm fuzzies that I was supposed to get from the event, was on duty. Those wedding crashers, they're not subtle and pack a punch. I'd hate to be the one cleaning up after that mess."

[Cole Ormont]

"Security detail? Looks like you've soaked up your fair share of blaster fire." Cole cleans the wounds, dresses them with synthflesh, and administers a combination hypospray of anti-biotics, anti-inflammaties, and a mild analgesic. He follows it up with his three-punch treatment for the toxic gas.

"Some more scars for your collection," he comments with a slight raise of an eyebrow.


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[D6 EE] Vec Gunnar (Medicine): 2eP+2eA+1eB+2eD 2 successes, 4 advantage

9 wounds and 4 strain healed
(2 success + 2 ranks surgeon + free stimpack)

[Vec Gunnar]

Vec didn't like doctors, which was why he did his best to avoid them whenever possible. However, he also knew better than the haggle or make trouble for a doctor so that they could find an excuse to screw up with their craft. He took off his coat and armour when needed. "I've usually done my part if the blaster fire is on me, doc. I'd say I've done a great job if I managed to walk out to talk about it."

He couldn't save everyone but they were on the range of 'acceptable casualties' when the important personnel made it out. "I wasn't the only one who did the fighting, surprised they're not here too. I was hoping for a free drink, if they're feeling generous."

"Scars I don't mind," he said with a shrug, as Cole might have seen his share of them when he worked on him, as most veterans tend to have. "Just whether a question I can get back to work. I don't exactly earn as much sitting in bed. Do you think I'll make it?"

[Cole Ormont]

"Some of them made their way here, some of them will be getting attention back down on the planet, I guess." Cole had, in fact noticed the scars, it was something that always intrigued him. "Get a drink or a few into you and get some sleep. You'll be fighting fit by morning."

[Vec Gunnar]

"Well, still a fine service you've provided to us all here. Doubly so for someone like myself," he said as he slipped back on the top he wore underneath his armour. "You have my thanks on that, Doc, and your diagnosis. I don't know how much sleep I'll actually be getting, never been all that good to myself, but I do intend on getting a drink or two tonight."

He looked about, "Say, you don't suppose you keep a bottle around here?"

[Cole Ormont]

Cole clucks his tongue, "you know, you're not the first person to ask me that today. Maybe I should have hung on to that bourbon bottle." He chuckles a little, "I might be out tonight looking for a drink myself, if I bump into you, I'll buy you one to make up for my unpreparedness."

[Vec Gunnar]

"Damn," he said, thinking that he was remotely original with his comment at first. "Can't blame them, a drink tends to come to mind when receiving medical attention. I'm sure you have drugs that take care of the pain but people tend to rather have anaesthetic that they can taste and feel. That said, alcohol doesn't do all that much for the pain, unless you had enough to send you to the clinic in the first place, heh."

He shook his head at that thought, "Heck, it was worth asking. If anything, I think I'll be the one owing you a drink for your help."

[Cole Ormont]

Cole laughs and runs a hand through his hair, "to your credit, you're the first one who's asked at a triage centre. Unfortunately, there's a lot fewer locked drawers to hide things in around here."

"Happy to help. Seems the least I can do when men like you are soaking up enough fire to make my job worthwhile. I can't save the dead."

The wounded seem to have stopped being brought in, and the ones in triage are stable. Hutt security begins transporting them to actual medical facilities, and Cole pushes a hand through his curls and rubs the back of his neck, finally able to take a breather.


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[D6 EE] Breathe Through It (Cool): 2eP+1eA 4 successes, 1 Triumph

4 Strain recovered.

[Vec Gunnar]

"Kinda on short notice, yeah," he said looking about at the triange centre they set up on the spaceport. It was still impressive that they did all this when the attack itself wasn't too long ago. "Sure if this was in your office or ship, you'd have a few bottles around. Or at least, you should be carrying some on you."

"Eh, I can't prevent them from dying either," he said with a hapless shrug, not seemingly bothered by that fact himself. "Don't mean I don't bother, but it is that it is when you've done your best. Haven't heard of a Sith or Jedi that could even do that."

[Cole Ormont]

Cole nods, mentally planning to add a flask to his kit. The Imperial's seeming lack of empathy gave the Medic pause, but he'd seen the scars for himself. "I need caff and a shower, watch out for yourself, Vec."

[Vec Gunnar]

"I'll try. Yeah, I'd better let you get on with your evening." He said as he rose from the bed he was sitting on while Cole did his work on him, putting on the rest of his armour pieces so that he wouldn't have to carry them back. "Thanks again for the help. There's a drink with your name on it. See you around, Doc Cole."

Once he was done, he made the voluntary long walk back to the Imperial compound.

/exit