Nar Shaddaa

Cole manages to find his way back to the shelter without Ashla's help, medpack freshly stocked, and no hint of trepidation to be seen in his carefully guarded expression, even if he feels like he's been pulled so tight that something was going to snap...

Ashla did make it down there. "Oh. You are here. I wasn't sure if you would make it with all the drinking last night."

Cole had gotten more than enough sleep, and access to his own personal pharmacy didn't hurt, so he seems none the worse for wear as he moves amongst the patients. "I don't think I drank all that much," he half shrugs.

He's genuinely relieved to see Ashla, as selfish as that may be, but the scuttlebutt was the natives were restless. If some sort of rioting or fighting happened to break out while he was down here, well, he'd be more screwed than a maintenance panel on a smuggler's vessel after a dog fight.

"Heh. Then you must be a hard drinker. That wasn't a lightweight drink I ordered you."

Cole makes an amused sound before leaning over to speak quietly to one of the patients that appeared to be staying at the clinic for treatment. He gives his attention back to Ashla, running a hand through his hair, "oh, I'm definitely featherweight division in my class, but my class is military. First year of basic is fifty percent hard drinking and fifty percent tackling the obstacle course vertical wall with a hangover."

"What did you think of the Sith-sith?"

"She was.... interesting. Dangerous. A true believer. Of course, if I was born in an Empire that told me I was the best and should rule, I would probably be a true believer too. Well, she didn't seem to be hateful or spiteful against the idea of peace, so it's a start."

A queue was forming, so Cole beckoned the first patient over; he didn't ask for Ashla to assist or to start taking patients of her own, leaving it open for her to decide if she was interested in either, or neither. "She's quite predatory, quick to assume I was propositioning her. But you two seemed to get along," he shrugs, glancing at the palm-sized diagnostic computer. "Maybe that's a good sign for for peace, little bits of common ground."

He was shaking his head at the patient, "I can't give you anything. I'm sorry, but if your wife is sick, then you need to bring her to see me. Even if I knew," his face was impassive, guarded, as the agitated Iktotchi interrupted him. He just shook his head again and indicated for the man to leave, giving away nothing of his relief when they did.

"I guess you have that kind of face. Has it been a while?"

Ashla for her part, begins taking other patients as most of these are minor. Besides, even if she admits she can learn a lot from Cole, she still likes being in charge.

If Ashla was joking, her deadpan delivery was on point, and his eyes harden reflexively. She was quick to that assumption too, I need to watch what I'm saying. He's approached by a human with a dislocated elbow. Holding the limb, "I'm going to count to three, and on three I'll pop the bone back into joint, okay? Ready, and one-" he gives a forcefull push and elbow goes back together. He administers a mild analgesic and sends the somewhat shocked patient on their way.

So, yes then. Ashla then helps a Twi'ek child with what amounts to a cold. Ashla explains that the immune system will take care of it and gives some medicine to lessen the symptoms.

Of course, at this point, Ashla was screwing with him. "I can take you somewhere to take care of it."

Cole suspected that his failure to provide a witty rejoiner would have her assuming he was too prudish to talk about it, I guess I am, and the look his mother use to give him flashes into his head, the look that begged him not to piss off the Group Commander, not tonight, please.

As he treated the next patient, a sprain, he gave them a painkiller, and it has been that long, and I can't lay that one at the Group Commander's feet.

Besides, he couldn't tell if she was making a crack about the Red Light District brothels, or offering herself again. And if it was the latter, well that's just skrogging confusing.

"Fine. Be that way. I was going to take you to Kidaja's brothel he used to have me work at sometimes. He's got all kinds." Cole hears Ashla mutter to herself. "Just can't be nice to some people."

"Hey now," but it takes him a moment to push the knowledge of Ashla working in a brothel into one of the dark corners of his brain where he doesn't have to think about it, shit, she's still a kid. "No need to be like that. If there's something wrong with my face, I doubt a trip to the brothel is going to fix it, right?"

"I'm just saying if all females you meet seem to think the same thing, maybe you're sending some unconscious vibes." Ashla shrugs. "I could write you a prescription if that helps."

Between patients, Cole turns and narrows his eyes at the young woman, stiffly, "brothel by doctor's orders?" It was a weak joke, but his jaw and shoulders were tight. He could imagine himself saying, I'm gay, Ashla, you got a prescription for that? but then she'd just assume he was one of those self-hating types.

"Could be worth a try, do they offer medical discounts?"

He turned back to his work and, though he continued to be gentle and reassuring with each patient, his voice was as flat as his expression.

"I don't think so. I never handled it on the money end. You could try." Ashla REALLY wanted to be there for that. She was cheerful and didn't hide it. Admittedly, some her patients found this disturbing.

He pinched the bridge of his nose and moved on to the next patient. "Ashla, have you ever heard of a thing called bedside manner? And before you ask, no, it's nothing learned in a brothel."

Ashla was mildly insulted. "Of course, I have heard of it. I've seen K'th Ploch M.D. I have a lovely bedside manner."

Indicating to a kid no more than six or seven who's looking a bit traumatised by the whole situation, "try not to look quite so gleeful when giving people bad news."

"I'm trying to cheer them up." Not really Ashla never considered her patients feelings. Why would she? "Fine. I'll try to be comforting."

She stares at the child, unsure what to do. Eventually, she pats him on the head. "There. There."

Although he maintained his composure, inside Cole was laughing, "okay, okay, that's worse."

Ashla glares at Cole. Meanwhile, the child flees. Sure. He has some untreatable disorder that is going to haunt him for the rest of his life, but suddenly getting away from these doctors seems more important.

Cole seems somewhat apologetic, "it's not about comfort. The patient needs to trust you, most of them are already terrified."

Ashla shrugs. "OK. Oh great and wise Dr. Cole. Please, show me how to do it." Ashla genuinely wanted to be shown how. However, she would be damned not to be an asshole about it.

He sighs, just a little, taking Ashla's comment at face value. Still, Cole feels very self-conscious when, a short time later, a grubby Twi'lek-hybrid girl with charming hazel eyes approached with a a number of credit chips clutched in her tiny fist.

The bottom third of her right lekku was gone, an old wound, completely healed now, though she only looked to be no older than the boy from before. She silently holds out the credit chips for him, wiping her nose on the back of her arm. Adorable, but why do they always have to be so sticky?

"It's alright, you can keep those," he smiles, "come on over here and let's see what's wrong, okay?" The girl takes a step closer and mutely offers the credit chips again.