Nar Shaddaa

Ashla was given a number by her master to call. Something about a doctor. So, Ashla called.

Startled by the sound, Cole physically jumped. There was a small shelf, posing as a desk, against the wall, with some sort of comm-panel installed above it. He slouched over, sat, ran his fingers through his curls, and accepted the call.

"So.... you're Cole Ormont?"

He runs a hand through his curls again. "Petty Officer Ormont, ma'am. Your master told me you'd be calling. Something to do with medical training, right?"

"Yeah. She thought I could use proper medical training if I plan on doing surgeries and stuff." Ashla finger quotes 'proper medical training.'

Cole opens his mouth, narrows his eyes, holds up a finger. His mouth opens and closes a few times. "You want to be a surgeon? and you want me to teach you?"

"I mean, I know you're not a teacher or anything, but she thought it would be good to talk to someone who actually has gone to medical school than learning by doing."

Cole closes his eyes and rubs his forehead. "Did you just say learning by doing? You mean to tell me that you have no schooling? at all? Have you studied any Xenology, or anatomy, or anything about diseases and disorders?" Scouting for some silver lining, "anything at all?"

"Ummmm...... no? I have enthusiasm."

"Enthusiasm!" His jaw falls open, "I can't work like this! What was your master thinking? Does she actually approve of this?" His hand goes through his hair again.

"I mean, probably not since she wanted me to talk to you. But it's cool. Nar Shaddaa is place with plenty of desperate people who won't discriminate because my formal education is a little lacking." Ashla shrugs. "I'm a Jedi. I'll just let the Force guide me. Also, I did learn a lot when I had my practice on Corsucant."

"Wait," Cole holds up a hand, "wait." It takes him a bit to compose himself, "you had a practice? You practised medicine, unlicensed, and without any training or schooling? For how long?" He frowns, "actually, don't answer that. I'll help. I'll help, for your patients, not for you or your master."

He huffs, "meet me once we get to Nar Shaddaa and we'll see just what you really know." Cole massaged his temples.

"Oh. Please spare me the moral superiority. You know what would have happened if I wasn't there? They would have died. Yeah. Some people died. Some died because nothing could save them. Yeah, sure, some probably died because I didn't know better. But some lived because I was there. More than if I wasn't there. How many doctors do you think there is in the slums of Corsucant? How many people do think can afford one? I was honest. My waivers stated I had no actual medical training."

This is why Ashla hated people with actual medical training. They always focused on the negatives. "I saved people. But everyone only wants to focus on the bad stuff. Tsch. They were lucky to have me. If only that one asshole Jedi hadn't screwed it up because he was still sore about getting tricked all those years ago, I'd still be saving people. Do you really think after I was taken away that the Republic sent some well-trained doctor like you to help them? No. Now, they just rot and die. At least, I helped some of them."

Her eyes narrowed. "Call me a monster all you want. Say I'm a murderer. Say I'm crazy. But don't act like my patients are better off without me. Because now, they have nothing."

Running his fingers through his hair, Cole shakes his head. "How many doctors are in the slums? Not enough. I never said you were a monster. You might well be crazy, but at least you're crazy for the right reasons."

He sighs heavily, "I still think you should get some real schooling. But you're the one calling yourself a murderer. Says a lot about you, really."

Ashla's eyes grow dark. After a moment, she bows her head and starts mumbling something.

Eventually, she looks back up at him. "I know what people think. What they see. Blood follows blood. But you don't know a damn thing about me."

Narrowing his eyes, Cole's expression is incredulous and offended, "hey, I don't know your issues, so don't give me that shit. If you have something to prove, meet me down at the Red Light District tomorrow before lunch. We'll go for a walk. You might want to leave the attitude in your bunk, it'll scare off the patients."

"Attitude? I called you wanting to learn. You're the one who threw a hissy fit because I never went to a school. You're the one who acted all high and mighty. You're the one who use little word tricks to act like I was admitting to being a murderer. I'm guessing you've never been to a place like Nar Shaddaa. You'll get shanked with that attitude." Ashla gives a vicious smile. "Hopefully, I'll be there to patch you up."

Cole snorts, and it sounds a little like a growl. "If you can't keep up with my word tricks, how do you hope to keep up with my education? I don't need little girls around with their emergency synthflesh applicators. But if you're afraid of a little slumming with war refugees," he shrugs with a crooked smile.

"I'm not the best talker. Bravo. You can sleep knowing you're smarter with words than girl who never got an education. You should be proud." Ashla claps sarcastically for Cole.

"And do you really think taunting me is going to work. Even if you never read my file, I just told you I had a practice in the slums. Do you think I give a damn what you think about me? I don't. I know you're just going to believe whatever you want. But don't worry. I'll go with you. When you get stabbed because you thought it would be a good idea to make yourself sound superior to someone, I'm going to laugh. I'm going to laugh so hard, I might start crying. Then, I'll patch you. I hope you teach me good."

After a moment Ashla continues, "Just so we're clear, if I ever save your life, it's strictly so I can hold it over you for the rest of your life."

"You're clearly not stupid, I'm not going to buy into your little pity party routine." He runs his fingers through his hair and shrugs, "be there, don't. I'm sending you some texts you should study." He'd placed his datapad on the desk when he accepted the call, and he tapped at it now, sending a number of files with suitably long and important-sounding titles.

He'd love to stick a shank in the girl's ego, but it was becoming clear that her anger outstripped any witty repartee the socially reclusive officer might have managed. He massaged his temples, "Red Light District, lunch, we'll see what we see."

"Pity party?" Ashla gets riled up again. And again, she bows her head and begins mumbling something. It takes longer this time. After she's finished, her voice is perfectly calm. "I accept my flaws. You should learn to accept yours. I wasn't calling myself stupid. I was mocking your arrogance because you called me stupid. I now see why my master wanted me to seek you out."

Ashla looks at the datapad. Even his books sound arrogant.

"I have the files. I will be there. And I was being an asshole, but I'm serious too. That is the kind of area where someone will murder you for looking at them funny. They are far more like me than you. In fact, many of them are worse. Be careful. And don't go there without some sort of guard unless you can defend yourself."

Cole's mouth twists, mollified by the girl's obvious attempt to make peace, even in the same breath that she called him arrogant. "You're not stupid, it was not my intention to suggest that you were. I've spent seven years with a datapad practically shoved up my nose, and I still don't know everything in those files I sent you."

"You were certainly serious when you set up your unlicensed practice on Corsucant. If you're still that serious, I still suggest you read what I sent." She was insanely aggravating, but he found himself unable to actually stay angry about it. She'd prove herself, or she wouldn't, no point in harping on about it. Besides, maybe the Force and enthusiasm really was enough.

Ashla gives a nod at what she assumes is the closest thing he could come to an apology.

"I will read them. I still have plenty of time making it to Nar Shaddaa."

She looks down at the pad. "Maybe I can find out what those one thingies are called."

She starts looking through the data pad.

Cole managed to look shocked and confused at the same time, "thingies? what thingies?" He suspected he was going to regret asking, his fingers go through his curls. He really hopes that she's asking about the archaic term, and that the common name for whatever she's referring to has escaped her at the moment.

Ashla looks up. "You know, those squishy things humans have that purify the urine or something." She makes a squishy motion. "They have two of them. I did a transplant once. Luckily, there's only so much you can do for seven stab wounds to the head, so I out it in a guy whose thingies didn't work so well. Figure I should know what they were called if I'm going to have a formal education and all." Ashla goes back looking at her datapad.