Nar Shaddaa

(might be subject to retcons, of course, but to get some of the rolling out of the way)

Shaisha was very unhappy. And in pain. Despite the stims, her hand hurt like hell from that disruptor-shot. Her vision had been so focused on the threat she couldn't see, she had completely neglected to properly take into account the firepower she could see.

She uttered a few more strings of curses over the three twi'leks. She might not get her revenge on them anytime soon, but she would get it someday.

And damnit, how long did she have to wait for a doctor?!

Cole made his way to Shaisha's apartment as quickly as he could. It had been a hectic day and his nerves felt like they were hanging by a thread as he'd criss-crossed half of Nar Shaddaa.

Reaching the Sith's door, he jabbed at the doorchime impatiently.

Sylvain walked over to the door and opened it up.

"You the Republic doctor for Shaisha I assume?"

Cole narrowed his eyes slightly at the stranger. "I am," and he gestured impatiently to be admitted.

"Come in then." He replied and directed the man in. "She's over there... and do be thorough."

Neither Cole's guarded expression, nor his loose and hurried gait, revealed his disapproval at Sylvain's words; and he had far more pressing matters to attend to, crossing the apartment with easy familiarity.

It wasn't the first time Cole had seen Shaisha in the living room, in pain and hurt as well as mostly undressed, though this time it was much easier to see the source of her trouble. Her left hand had been bandaged up and she was holding it in her right hand.

She looked down at her crippled hand, really not wanting to have to get a cybernetic one like Kris did.

"Hey... you made it," she said as she sensed Cole come in, her voice in-between frustration, pain and some relief.

"Anytime, deviless," Cole softened immediately. He had begun to smile for her, but that faded immediately on seeing her condition. Quickly, efficiently, he was taking scans and laying out his kit, lips pressing into a thin line.

"It's bad, but it's not beyond salvage," he assured, sitting in front of her. He spread an absorbent drape over his thigh and rest her hand upon it. Looking up at Sylvain, his voice taking on a cool, professional authority, "if you'd like to be useful, I could use a second set of hands here."

"If you'd like to live you'll speak to me more politely." He replied coolly.

"I would be glad to help." He then said and moved to the doctor's side.

"Leave your kriffin' sensibilities outside, Syl, or I will take my anger out on you," Shaisha sneered back at her brother, then flinched as she realised she had instinctively tried to close her fist on her left hand.

Cole had no time and less interest in a pissing contest with the prickly man, his attention was focused on Shaisha, narrowing down to a pin-point laser of concentration. This kind of micro-surgery was usually done in harshly lit theatres, with a half-dozen nurses and a few subordinate doctors for assistance, not balancing a mangled extremity on one's knee with a quasi-belligerent stranger for help.

Carefully, but efficiently, he put the scraps of tendon and sinew, the shreds of torn muscle, the shards of broken bone, all back together. Not like a jigsaw, like a sculpture of the utmost delicacy and precision. Sweat beaded on his forehead and temples as he hunched over his work. An hour passed.

When he was done, the hand would be as good as new. Only the faintest of scars would show. Cole straightened, his back singing painful hymns of hate. "Any other complaints I should see to?"


---
[D8 LE] Shaisha Crit Injury (Medicine): 2eP+2eA+1eB+3eD 2 successes, 1 threat, 1 Triumph

[D8 LE] Assistance (Boost): 1eB 1 success

1 Strain taken.
Critical Injury: Crippled removed.
Triumph to upgrade next Critical Care roll?

OOC: Medicine roll for wounds as well?

Cole's work probably saved her hand, but she was in no way back to fighting shape, as it seemed any strenous activity would just ruin the work he had done so far and could be fatal to her.

It had been a herculean effort to not lash out at either of the two of them while Cole work, but that was probably why it was a good idea to have Sylvain there who knew her well enough to know when to calm her mind and when to just physically hold her back.

"... Still kriffin' hurts."



---

I still have one Critical Injury (at Daunting) left, but that will have to wait until tomorrow.
Some Wound healing would be nice too.

Sylvain nodded to the doctor, "Good work, sir."

He then looked to Shaisha, "I'll try to keep here away from disruptor rifles for a while."

Pulling off his gloves, Cole smiled, lopsided and charming, at Shaisha, ah, that's gratitude for you. When Sylvain spoke, he ran a hand through his hair and offered the other one to shake, "Cole Ormont, appreciate the help."

His attention quickly turned back to Shaisha and the multitude of scrapes and bumps and swellings, "the only thing I'll give you for the pain tonight is a 'script for a belt of good whiskey. But I want to see you first thing tomorrow." He fussed over the more superficial wounds, a half-decent night's rest would have to do the heavy pulling until then.


---
[D8 LE] Wound Healing (Medicine): 2eP+2eA+2eB+2eD 3 successes

Wounds healed: 9 (3 successes + 2 ranks surgeon + 4 free stimpack)

"Don't think I'm going anywhere else," she smiled weakly in return. Just getting from the spaceport had been a struggle in itself, not to mention getting out of her armor... another time she was grateful for not wearing the very heavy kind of armor.

"Thanks. You keep being a hero and saviour, you know..."

Raising a hand, "I wouldn't go that far, but maybe I can cash in one of those chits. There was something I wanted to discuss. Regarding a certain piece of footage?"

Shaisha glanced for a moment to Sylvain before looking back at Cole.

"... Alright, go ahead."

Cole produced a hip flask, it didn't feel right to impose on his host's hospitality right now, and took a belt of good whiskey. He offered it to Shaisha before speaking.

"I have what I can only assume is part of the story. There are details that, I'm told, are above my pay grade. But, you trust me, and I trust Captain 'Alderaan', so I'm hoping none of this ends with lightsabers, yeah?" He was fairly certain she trusted him, after all, she'd called him to her home when she was her most vulnerable,

He is momentarily distracted by an absurd thought, and chuckles, pushing a hand through his blonde curls.

She wanted little more than to curl up in bed with the galaxy's biggest cocktail of drugs and painkillers, but the whiskey would have to do for now. Accepting the flask with her right hand, she took a big swig.

"Depends, but I'm not inclined to kill you, Cole. You're telling me there's a good reason to extend that courtesy to the Captain too?"

Not that she was in a position to deal out the killing now.

Sylvain just watched and listened carefully, not knowing specifically what was being referred to.

"Is innocence enough reason?" His hand went through his hair again.

"Consider this a parlay of sorts. I'll tell you what the Captain told me, you tell me that's not good enough, and then we can hash out some sort of list of demands I can take back to my side, deal?"

Taking another drink, he pressed on without waiting for her to agree. "The Republic were given a tip that someone was planning to assassinate Senator Seir'oto. The information wasn't good, all our people could determine was the location of the Imperial safehouse. The Captain and the Jedi went to check it out. Now," he held up a defensive hand, taking a drink and offering the pureblood the flask again, "work with me here, okay? because yes, they came prepared for a fight."

"The Captain says they never made it inside the building. That the explosion occurred as they were approaching. Trouble is, I don't know how we can prove that."

Looks like mother is taking them for quite the ride...

Sylvain just watched as the conversation got suddenly interesting.

She held up a hand, declining the offer of another swig from the flask.

"Alright... let's say I believe you, and the Captain. Do you know who gave this tip? I have a good suspicion myself, but I want to hear it from you guys."

Cole put the flask away, lips compressing into a thin line. "That is above my pay grade."

"Would..." she flinched in pain as her body sternly reminded her not to flex certain muscles.

"Would the Captain know if I asked him?"