Aerandir Calmcacil
The Jedi Order
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Post by Aerandir Calmcacil on Apr 25, 2013 21:31:48 GMT -8
*This is a large, carefully constructed building on the back side of the base, somewhat beside the hangar. It contains a well-equipped medical laboratory in the front, which currently contains all known cures for the planet's many diseases. At this time there is a working medical staff, with a few Force-sensitives trained in the art of healing. This area consists of two halls, one holding a lobby, and an open area where several medical beds are placed for a large group of injured people, such as during wartime. The second contains a row of bacta tanks on one wall, and upon the other side are several closed-off rooms for singular medical issues.
On the back end is a two-story cloning lab. This is made up of all the necessary equipment for good, quality cloning to be completed. There is a small conference room where plans for such operations can be discussed, and at present the facility is fully-functioning and fully-staffed.*
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Zemear
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Post by Zemear on Apr 28, 2013 12:08:34 GMT -8
It wasn't pretty, the gashes on his upper arms, the large bruise to the side of his head, the many saber burns littering his forearms and chest. The tattered clothes draped around the Epicanthix' body had been exchanged for clean white medical garments. The smooth fabric felt good against his hot flesh. Zemear looked downward as the doctors tended to the deep burning cuts criss crossing his back,, as they murmured in confusion as to the origin of such strange afflictions.
~I had my back to a melting wall with my own weapons conducting mutiny on my back...~. He wanted to say, but his lips did not move. His voice did not strike the air. Even if Zemear could speak, he wagered that his mental injuries wouldn't allow it. Some things, even these doctors couldn't heal.
Unflinchingly, Zemear took each treatment, painful though it was. So many immunity injections... With his time here, he thought he'd have been done with those by now. Apparently some immunity didn't stick around for long. But, as the medics said, he was lucky he had the use of all his limbs. Any number of things could have happened. His spine came very close to being severed. The blow to his head certainly caused a concussion, and it could have been worse. Even now he saw blurred white outlines around every shape, like he was in a dream.
Finally, something was stabbed into his arm which made those blurry outlines shift, grow and swell like dilating vanes, closing around their respective shapes and flooding his whole vision with startling white.... then threatening blackness. Instinctively his body reacted, jerking violently and then falling dormant, fully unconscious.
Perhaps a doctor had told him they were putting him under, but Zemear didn't hear it through the mumbling of other sounds and the pounding within his skull. But it didn't matter now.
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Tom Klanzo
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Affiliation: The Living Force
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Post by Tom Klanzo on Apr 28, 2013 16:26:29 GMT -8
*It hadn't taken long before Tom decided to seek out Zemear, the youth's mother in tow. Tom was concerned for the boy's position, physically, mentally, and emotionally. And, of course, so was his mother, but that went without saying. Or at least should. Fortunately, that was no concern here. Now, all Tom needed was to find Zemear, which was as simple as asking an attendant. Zemear, however, was not conscious at the time, so Tom was content to wait outside the ward where he rested until he was awake, leaving his mother to do as she pleased...*
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Morgan Calmcacil
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Post by Morgan Calmcacil on Apr 28, 2013 21:16:10 GMT -8
*It felt good to be back in these halls, in safety, in home. Well, in house? Morgan considered the entire planet her home, the base was just where she lived and slept most of the time. But it was definitely far more secure here, a sense she needed to feel after Haruun Kal. And she had her mother next to her, too. Well, and all around her. It was still a bit difficult separating mothers in her mind, but that was why she distinguished Felucia as "Mommy" and Kory as "Mama," to make things easier on herself.
They found the medical facilities, but as soon as they entered, Morgan immediately felt troubled. She sensed Zemear was here. Quickly she looked about for him, but another thought told her he currently was unconscious, with the lingering traces of pain... all over. Did something happen to her big brother?! Why were her self-adopted family members getting hurt so much? She frowned, but suddenly became aware of Tom's presence. So, he was here watching over him. That meant he would be fine, right? And Morgan had a job to do too, and that was to watch over Kory while she was tended to. That was...*
Can I still stay with you, Mama?
*She looked up at her with big, pleading emerald eyes, all emotion expressed through them: That she loved her and wanted to stay here until she knew Kory would be okay. She didn't want to leave; her mama was hurt and Morgan wanted her to be better. She hardly cared about anything else right now.*
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Adelle Bastiel
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Right or wrong? I can hardly tell. I'm on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell.
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Post by Adelle Bastiel on Apr 29, 2013 12:16:05 GMT -8
Adelle's first response was to say "No." Her injuries were great and Morgan didn't need to see them. She didn't need to be reminded of how reckless she'd been, how far she strayed from the Jedi teachings while on Coruscant. But looking at Morgan, and the need in her eyes, killed any negative reply on her tongue. The girl's emotion was palpable and with lesser control over her own empathy, she would've felt its ache just as intensely as she felt the stabbing pangs all over her body. Her side, especially, simply hurt from the pressure of Morgan's hug earlier, however gentle it had been. Adelle nodded once, both at once grim and gentle.
"Don't look," she said. "It's not pretty."
She submitted to the medics' hands as they guided her to a room and escorted her to a examination table. Her breath whistled through her teeth as they deftly maneuvered her arms to pull the tanktop off, the sharp chill of the table sending goosebumps all over her skin. Achingly slow, they unwrapped the bandages around her and tossed the bacta patches aside. Bruises mottled her skin, much paler from not having seen sunlight in a while, like strange green, black, and purple spots. Black stitches bridged hot red flesh above her left hip, a bright stripe on the older burn scar, and under her right arm. The aides pulled up her left pant leg, a dark bruise ringing her shin. Sheesh, her body looked like a war zone. She could only imagine what her mind, so much more scarred than her skin, looked like to an outsider.
The doctor came in with his expertise and confidence, his insectoid eyes neutral but disapproval rolling off him in waves. That's right: he'd ordered her to fade away in a bed until her body was whole but weak from disuse. His light tridactyl hands tilted her chin, critical bottomless eyes looking over the bright pink lines that crossed the bridge of her nose and left eye, and dug into her cheek. The same hands moved her arms, had her lift them, move them, as the Vratix watched the muscles in her torso work. Adelle gritted her teeth as his cold hands smoothed over the darkened skin on her leg, choking down the growl that threatened to abandon her. She took in deep breaths of sterilized air, of latex and bacta, and the curious scent of the Vratix examining her.
"We have told you to rest," he said. "You do further damage to yourself."
"I can't sit still," Adelle said. She went to run a hand through her hair but thought better of it.
The Vratix clicked and hissed, a sigh she guessed. "These wounds will reopen if you are too active. We suggest bacta immersion for quicker recovery."
"No." Adelle suppressed the shiver that tried to rattle her spine. "No immersion." She couldn't face that just now.
"Then we advise that you listen to us and rest. We will give you these—" One of the aides handed him a sling, and the other a leg brace. "—To speed your recovery. We have no kolcta to administer or we would surely use it, restless Jedi. We must also advise looser clothing. It will be easier to remove without straining your injuries."
Adelle eyed the two offered medical aids with a scowl.
The Vratix hissed again. "These will speed your recovery. We believe the easier you are on yourself, the sooner you will heal."
She allowed the aides to dress her in a loose hospital gown, planning to ask Aerandir if he had some spare clothes that would fit the Vratix's prescription. They eased the brace around her leg and secured it tightly under her cargo pants, then slipped the sling over her head and gingerly set her right arm into it. Kriff, this would limit her mobility quite a bit. What was she going to do with her time now? She grunted once as they placed fresh bacta patches against her skin, ice cold. When they finished wrapping up her ribs like she was some ancient mummy, Adelle slid off the examination table slowly, stretching her legs. The brace's weight around her leg would take some getting used to.
The Vratix placed his hands against her shoulders, softer than feathers and firmer than a Zabrak's. "We do not feel it is in your best interest to attempt to heal yourself. Your body craves rest and exertion through the Force will only wear it out more."
Fantastic. What was she to do in the meantime? Nonetheless, Adelle inclined her head and reached out with her good arm to grip one of his elbows. "My thanks."
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Tom Klanzo
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Posts: 106
Affiliation: The Living Force
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Post by Tom Klanzo on Apr 29, 2013 12:44:37 GMT -8
Morgan?
*Tom looked up, toward the entrance, when he sensed the child's unmistakable presence. There she was, leading in a young woman, who looked battered and in need of medical attention even from this distance, though Tom was mostly judging by her posture. Tom frowned; did she know Zemear was here, too? Would she ask if he was okay? Demand to see him? Sure enough, she was looking in his direction, though not directly at him; she'd sensed the presence of her "brother," alright. Tom wanted to smile, but at the same time, the situation had seemed too dire. Should he go visit her? She looked preoccupied, though, with her charge.
A team of medics came to tend to the woman, and Morgan followed after them. They were being led past Tom's location. When they were close enough to carry on a conversation, Tom smiled at Morgan, and called out to her.*
Zemear will be fine, Morgan. A bit of rest is all he will need. When he's awake, I'll let you know so you can come see him.
*He continued to smile at her and gave the woman she was with a kind nod, watching until they passed. The smile was then gone, as he glanced toward the closed door of the ward Zemear was resting in. The man that had appeared, the darksider who'd claimed to be Zemear's father... Just how much was that taking a toll on the boy? Was it worse than the physical pain he'd suffered in Niango? The frown deepened. Then he sighed to himself.
And his mother... his mother had never told the boys. Something he couldn't say he blamed her for, though the truth would have needed to be told eventually. She was protecting them, but at the same time, making them vulnerable, particularly when they were forced to fend on their own for a time. But it was not Tom's place to accuse her; she was their mother, Tom was merely Zemear's mentor. Still, it was a nasty situation, one Tom desired to speak with Zemear about once he was able...*
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Morgan Calmcacil
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Post by Morgan Calmcacil on Apr 29, 2013 13:12:59 GMT -8
*For a moment, it seemed like Kory might tell her no. But then she relented, though grimly yet gently warning her not to look, that it wouldn't be pretty. Morgan herself didn't think she needed the warning; she'd seen so many gruesome things, including things done to herself, that she didn't think anything would faze her. Well, maybe a little at first, but then she would be able to ignore it by caring more about the person injured, rather than the injury itself.
She nodded regardless, following as Kory was led away by a couple of medics. When they passed by Tom, she looked toward him; he smiled and assured her that Zemear would be fine after some rest. She tilted her head to the side; how did he know she knew Zemear was here? Well, then again, Tom always was very smart and perceptive. After he said he'd let her know when he was awake so she could see him, she smiled back at him, but said nothing, focusing forward again as she followed her mama and the medics.
They led her into a room and to an examination table. Morgan climbed into a chair against the wall, but didn't bother moving it closer, since she didn't want to get in the doctors' way. Particularly the very large insectoid doctor, who looked like he needed a lot of room. Despite her mama's warning not to watch, Morgan did indeed attempt to take glimpses of the injuries, stretching herself upward in her chair and craning her neck to see past the doctors who were tending to the injuries. They were nasty indeed, and varied, and covered much of her skin. And now Morgan really felt guilty for leaning against her, however gentle; those wounds looked painful! She grimaced, slumping back into her seat slightly. What exactly happened to her mama while she was away?
Suddenly, Haruun Kal seemed trivial.
No, she couldn't say that. A loss of life was never trivial. Maybe the impact it had on Morgan was trivial compared to what Coruscant did to Kory, but Mesh's sacrifice was never worth dismissing. Especially since without it, Morgan wouldn't even be here to ponder the impact it had on her. But her mama, her poor mama...
Morgan wiped her eyes of the tears that had suddenly welled up from a combination of grief for Mesh's life and care for her mother's physical state. She needed to be strong right now, not crying. She dried her wrists on her shirt, and no more tears threatened to spill forth as she watched the doctors treat the injuries and examine Kory physically. By now the air had become saturated by medical smells, of healing agents and anesthetics, and Morgan resisted the urge to wrinkle her nose at them.
She listened as the doctor told her mama to stay still and rest until she recovered, which Kory would have none of. When suggested to undergo a bacta immersion instead, something else her mama declined, Morgan briefly wondered what being in a bacta tank was even like. Yes, she'd been in one, but she was unconscious—technically dead, she supposed—the entire time. Though she did remember some odd taste in her mouth after she'd come back to life...
The conversation continued, the insectoid doctor giving Kory other advice since she clearly didn't wish to stay still or submerge herself, and gave her a sling and a leg brace. When the conversation was finished and it seemed it was time to go, Morgan slid out of her chair, looking up at Kory curiously.*
Are you feeling better now, Mama?
*Well, obviously it would take a while before she was fully better, but even if it was just a little bit better, that would please Morgan greatly. Though there were probably some other things she'd have to find out too, like if she should avoid leaning against her, or sitting on her lap, or things like that. The last thing Morgan wanted to do was put more stress on the healing wounds...*
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Post by Mark Shadows Sorrows on May 1, 2013 16:32:30 GMT -8
A young boy with dark hair and piercing green eyes entered the room, tattered, and with a bit of a limp. He had a cut on his right arm that was still bleeding slightly from whatever happened out there in the jungles. He couldn't remember what happened out there. The last thing he could remember was escaping the smugglers vessel after it had crash landed onto the surface. Everything after that was a black out until he woke up, and ended up wandering to the base. He looked around, his green eyes baring a confused and slightly frightened expression.
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 5, 2013 15:27:34 GMT -8
Na'an's goodbye to Jecib Milnik had in fact delayed their leaving the hangar; fortunately, the medical facility was not hard to find. The Jedi that had preceded them paid the girl and the droid little mind as they entere--they were busy with their own Healer. The wide room held a variety of Healers with their patients, none of them the obvious leader of the facility. As Na'an debated asking outside, A stocky bearded man approached them, taking Na'an in with a probing eye. Na'an met his gaze uneasily, waiting for him to start,. But rather than asking her questions, The old man took her by the hand and led her to an empty table. Gesturing for her to get on it, he waited patiently until Na'an was settled awkwardly on the surface, then spoke. "I'm Healer Dax Hamee, he said in a gravelly voice, then abruptly reached for her face. Well, then, let's take a look at you--"
Na'an's heart went to her throat. "Wait-"
The old man whipped the eyepatch off, batting Na'an's hands away as they flew up to cover it. "We can't see if you cover it up, dear," he chided, pulling her chin up to give him a better look. His hands on her face were firm, but gentle, and soft with age. "Let's see...from the skin tears this wasn't an blaster or laser cut, so blunt trauma . Collapsed retina from the burst, clearly, but the removal of the damaged organ and nerves was masterfully done."
The old Healer hmm'd in his throat again as he pulled the scarred eyelid open. Na'an tried to hold still, resisting the impulse to flinch away from his hand. It's not him, she told herself. This is a Healer, he's just trying to help, I'm not on Tattooine, don't resist, this is a Healer, it's not him it's not him...
"You haven't been maintaining."
The Healer's comment jolted Na'an back to the moment. "Sorry?"
"You have some swelling. And this patch," the Healer shook it in front of her, "Is still wet and dirty. The Healer who did this patch job this expertly should have told you about maintenance, or at least given you some medication..." Putting the patch away, he gave her a concerned look. "I'm shocked the socket isn't already infected. So why weren't you maintaining?"
Na'an could not respond for a moment. What could she say--She'd gone insane with the Dark Side? She'd ignored it in favor of time-travelling and attempted assasination? That the red voice didn't care about infection? Her breath hitched in her throat, stuck behind the words, as she forced herself to answer. "I've... I've been sick."
The Healer's lips tightened in response. His grip on her face tightened as well, gripping her so that she could not move, could not flinch away. "So I see." Abruptly, he dropped his hand, leaving Na'an unbalanced on the table. He wiped his hands on his cloak, and pulled out a slim datapad. "We'll have to get you a specialist, then. Name?"
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Post by LE-01 on May 7, 2013 11:51:43 GMT -8
"Na'an."
The droid had remained silent and relatively ignored during the doctor's preliminary examination -- after all, there was little need to focus on a droid in a med bay -- but she spoke up at the query.
"Her name is Vidalu Na'an."
Leigh didn't know why she hadn't just let the girl answer for herself, she was perfectly capable of uttering her own name, but she chalked it up to just another one of those tiny, hidden subroutines that she didn't consciously perceive but still affected her actions and decision-making processes. She imagined, once again, that this must be what organic life felt like when they did things unpredictably. Or perhaps most of them never stopped to think about why they took the actions they did.. Leigh didn't know, but she did notice the trend that she was becoming more and more of a philosopher.
That, in and of itself, contemplating her own existence, scared her.
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Adelle Bastiel
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Right or wrong? I can hardly tell. I'm on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell.
Posts: 338
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Post by Adelle Bastiel on May 9, 2013 17:26:06 GMT -8
Kriff, no. She ached all over, the bacta stung, and the wounds made by Devaronian blood-poisoned edges burned blindingly bright. No, she was not in the least feeling better but the healing process was a long path to take. And like it or not, she was stuck on that path. One of the aides handed her a pair of crutches to hobble around on, as if somehow sensing that she would've blown a fuse had she been offered a hover chair. Would've been easier, and faster too, probably, but Adelle hated the fact that she was reliant on anything but herself. The crutches were bad enough. She thanked the aide, keeping her disdain and dismay off her face.
Two more entrants caught her eye. One a young woman with a tense expression, fidgeting under a Healer's hands as he looked at her left eye socket. She smelled like a city after the rain, undertones of unease? or fear, maybe, clearly present even from this distance. Her companion was a... armor-clad individual? But no, there was a stillness to the body language that simply looked unnatural and he—or so Adelle assumed it was a he—smelled like gears and metal drying out from the rain. It wasn't... organic. A droid then? Something seemed off about the two of them. She couldn't name it though. Adelle rested her arms on the crutches unsteadily, her ears straining to catch the conversation between the woman and the healer.
There. A minute pause, a brief hesitation. A lie... or a partial truth. The droid spoke and the healer walked away, fingers manipulating the datapad. Adelle hobbled over before she had a chance to really think about why.
"Couldn't help but notice," she said, completely skipping over introductions. "You might want to come up with a different reason, one you can say confidently. You're not gonna fool anyone with your current line."
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Morgan Calmcacil
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Post by Morgan Calmcacil on May 9, 2013 20:14:09 GMT -8
*Maybe she wasn't better at all after all... It was probably too much for hope for, but then again, was it? Sure, you'd still have a long way to recover after being tended to, but shouldn't that mean you were still better than when you were hurt? Morgan didn't really understand; she'd been in pain before gotten tended to, but the only truly severe injuries she'd had were when Psallo attacked, and when she came to, her body was... Okay, so she had been greatly atrophied, and couldn't walk or move as well as before, so she'd technically been worse. Bad example. But at least her chest wasn't ripped open and there wasn't a missing piece of her shoulder anymore...
Morgan could sense all the aches and pains flowing through her mother, and she didn't like it. And now she had to walk on crutches? Even Morgan felt sorry for the limitation being placed upon Kory. But now that they were moving, Morgan simply walked alongside her, watching her speed so that she wasn't moving too fast. But now she noticed that the people from the hangar were here as well, a lady with an eyepatch being tended to by a male doctor, and the armored... being... The one that simultaneously made Morgan feel uneasy and not at the same time. Was there any connection to this being and the... thing from Haruun Kal?
By the Force, she hoped not.
Mama was engaging the woman in conversation now. Morgan stood beside her, remaining politely silent and trying not to stare at the armored being. At the same time, she didn't want to appear as though she were avoiding looking at her entirely, so her eyes occasionally flickered between the woman, the medic, and the... She really needed to find out what or who it was. For her safety, and possibly the entire planet's... But for now she managed to bring a polite smile to her face, otherwise staying silent, observing for the moment.*
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 10, 2013 11:32:51 GMT -8
Na'an's hand flew up reflexively at the sound of an unfamiliar voice, covering the scarred hole, but dropped when she saw its source. The approaching woman was in bad shape--resting heavily on crutches, she bore the deep-mottled bruises and fresh bandaging of someone currently recovering from multiple serious wounds. The child all but clinging to her side was watching her with a combination of adoration and naked worry, and when the Jedi stopped she all but toppled where she stood. In fact, with the exception of having both eyes, she looked eerily similar to how she had after Tattooine. She even had the braid that Na'an had favored for so long, back in the years of her wandering.
The difference was in her face. This woman was...well, the best word for it was soft. As the woman bent over, peering from one ravaged body to another, there was no paranoia or anger written on her features. As drawn and pained as they were, there was only a mild, unlined mouth, and open eyes, and only curiosity in her expression. This was the face a Jedi should wear in the face of hardship, Na'an thought absurdly. This was who I should have been.
"I'm not lying," she found herself saying. "And I'm not dodging responsibility. I'm just not proud of the details." Even to herself the words sounded pathetic. She leaned into the droid behind her, feeling steadier with her back against the smooth metal surface.
The returning Healer seemed to agree. "I wouldn't be either, if I were you," he said absentmindedly, scrolling through a series of files. "With the history listed for you two--" He started at the information he was looking at the screen, but quickly hid his alarm. " "Lady Bastiel, you should come with me. The child too." He gestured toward the table where the woman had originally been.
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Adelle Bastiel
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Right or wrong? I can hardly tell. I'm on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell.
Posts: 338
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Post by Adelle Bastiel on May 11, 2013 17:42:49 GMT -8
Well that was a first. She'd been called many things in her life: Jedi, Knight, Master Jedi, Agent, Hey You, but no one except her mother had ever accused her of being a "lady." The honorific sounded ... wrong, in conjunction with her name. "Lady" was for someone with grace, class, money, not a wandering Jedi Knight living off of others' charity and her father's good graces. But rather than start a small fight which would drain her energy further, she inclined her head to the young woman, paying attention to the cold ripples of the Force coming from her.
"Wasn't an accusation," she said, neutrally. "I've been in your shoes before."
She turned on her crutch (OOC: my fault, I forgot she has one arm in a sling) and headed back to the table with Morgan and doctor in tow. Odd, that she should be asked to return to the examination table when the Vratix had all but given her the all clear.
"Is there a portion of examination I've missed, Doctor?" she asked quietly. "Or is there something you wish to tell me that couldn't be said in... mixed company?"
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 12, 2013 7:12:32 GMT -8
Healer Dax followed them to the examination table, still reading the datapad intently with one hand and pushing the pair gently with the other. "No indecency intended, I assure you. It's just that..." He shot a nervous glance at the girl and droid still behind them. The droid had not moved much since arrival, other than to give its master's name. The girl had turned to watch them go; the large grey eye fixed on him was deceptively mild. "That patient is not one I would allow around children. Her and her droid have a...record...of violent instability. According to her file she's not even supposed to have left Yavin Station. I don't know how or why she's here, and in your condition..." The Healer put a gentle hand on Adelle's shoulder, and smiled gently at both her and Morgan. "She's not designated as an enemy, but she needs to be contained, and by more healthy Jedi. I've called a guard for her."
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Adelle Bastiel
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Right or wrong? I can hardly tell. I'm on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell.
Posts: 338
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Post by Adelle Bastiel on May 12, 2013 14:48:25 GMT -8
Adelle frowned as the Healer spoke. Violent instability? Psychological damage then, and the young woman reacted instinctively to triggers: Fight or Flight. Having not been able to fly, she would have fought. Made sense. She'd acted much the same way whenever the blanks or her episodes attacked. But unlike her, the young woman had a chance to heal her mind; patterns of violence could be broken, better ways to cope could be found and implemented. She nearly jumped when the Healer placed his hand on her shoulder. Mild anger and dread flared up in her gut but Adelle quelled it. The Healer was not meaning to be condescending and he didn't know about her more recent aversion to touch. It wasn't his fault.
"You did what?" Adelle gripped the crutch tighter, unable to throw her hands in the air as she would've liked to, and muttered darkly under her breath in Old Corellian. The healer had just finished telling her the young woman suffered from violent instability and he had called a guard? That might have been okay for someone not Force Sensitive. Might. The guard would, no doubt, be wearing weapons and restraints in full view. That kind of show of force was enough to put any sane person on edge, even if a little. Add violent instability to the mix and it was a touchy situation. Add Force Sensitivity, and it was a bad situation with the potential to blow up in everyone's faces. That healer could not account for the guard's actions and reactions and every ripple of emotion, the slightest change would be felt by the young woman. His unease if he showed any, his determination... That was not something Adelle, in good conscience, could allow.
"Let me get this straight," she said, forcing her emotions into a box, within a safe, within a closet of her mind. "You, a medical professional, have deemed it wise to introduce a potential stressor and trigger to a patient with psychological issues and a history of 'violent instability' to contain and-or restrain her? Doctor... I'm no healer. I haven't gone to medical school. I'm not a therapist either. But trust me when I tell you that's the stupidest thing I've ever heard of in my entire life."
No need to tell him she couldn't remember most of her life.
"If what you're telling me is true, then she needs a therapist or psychiatrist. Not an armed guard. Not a doctor. And if by some miracle she doesn't take the guard as a threat, how do you propose to treat her? Her issues, it seems like, are psychological. Or were you just going to let her sit in a medical room or cell until Yavin Jedi came to take care of her?" Adelle clamped her mouth shut and took in a deep breath. Calm. She needed to be calm. Her eyes locked with his, unwavering. "Trust me, I know a good deal about psychological trauma. I could help her. Bringing in a guard will only escalate the situation. Let me talk with her, see if I can help her. Lesser Jedi have done more in conditions worse than mine."
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Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 12, 2013 16:37:21 GMT -8
The old Healer reacted as if the woman had slapped him; he drew his hand back, abashed, then his expression grew as stern and unforgiving as hers. "Lady Bastiel," he said in a clipped voice, "Pardon me if I remind you that you have a child with you, and that my duty is to the other patients in this facility as well as Miss Na'an." He proffered her the datapad, highlighting several of the more troubling passages. "I'm not denying her therapy, I'm protecting both her and others from whatever episode brought her and that thing here...and with the body count listed here, you wouldn't blame me either."
That was a slight exaggeration, as that count belonged to the droid more than the human...but the passages highlighted about the mental history of its owner were not any more comforting. History of consorting with Sith practitioners. Traumatic emotional disconnect. Unexplained signs of violent Force-wielding episodes... Quite a damning list for someone as young as the slight girl on the table behind him.
"I cannot stop you," he concluded, "but the child stays away."
Behind them, Vidalu Na'an closed her eye and nodded. "We'll have to expect that sort of reaction from now on, you know," she said quietly, as much to the droid she was leaning on as to herself. She couldn't hear everything the two Jedi were saying to each other...but she'd seen the look on Healer Hamee's face, and how he'd ushered the soft woman and her child away as soon as they'd come. She didn't need to hear to know.
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Post by LE-01 on May 12, 2013 17:05:07 GMT -8
"Yeah. I can understand why."
Leigh, unlike Na'an, could hear every word of what was being said, although she was tactfully staying out of it.
"Can't say we didn't earn it, though, can we?"
She smiled, though not fully in response to what she had said. She was simply grateful that Na'an was leaning on her, quite literally speaking, although she did find it amusing that they had warranted such a violent reputation. Her creator hadn't been kidding when she told LE-03 that Na'an liked to get in trouble..
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Morgan Calmcacil
Member
Posts: 931
Affiliation: The Jedi Order
Traffic Light: Yellow
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Post by Morgan Calmcacil on May 12, 2013 20:05:40 GMT -8
*Morgan wasn't sure what to make of the woman's response to her mama, that she wasn't "proud of the details." It only made her more uneasy, especially if she and the armored being were acquainted. If the woman had a questionable history, that just cast more doubts on the figure that so resembled the evil being of Haruun Kal. She had to calm herself, had to remain easy...
The medic started to say something, before suddenly asking Morgan and her mama to come with him. This was where Morgan outright frowned. What had made the medic suddenly cut off his sentence and ask the two of them to come away to a private area, back where Kory had received her treatment? She continued to frown as she turned away to follow the medic, though threw a glance or two over her shoulder at the woman and her... companion. What was this about?
Once more, Morgan only stopped and stood by her mama's side obediently as she listened to the adults talk. Kory asked whether there was something she had missed during the examination or if there was something that couldn't be said in "mixed company." The doctor responded that the girl and the droid—so, the armored being was a droid—had a history of "violent instability."
And immediately Morgan froze up. Three seconds later, she thawed, turning to shoot a nervous glance in the direction of the droid. That was the last thing she wanted to hear, especially considering the droid's resemblance to that thing on Haruun Kal. She turned away, looking back up at the doctor with worried eyes that he might misread as those of a child who was afraid of anyone who might have the slightest tendency to be violent. Which was... well, not entirely far from the truth, but she never had this uneasy a reaction to just anyone.
Apparently the two had come from Yavin Station. Had they been detained there? It sounded like it, since the doctor seemed to think they should still be there. He also said he'd sent for a guard, something Morgan agreed was probably a good idea.
That was, until her mama suddenly snapped on him. Well, not exactly snapped, more like... sternly lectured. It was completely sensible, full of things Morgan hadn't thought about herself, and now Morgan found herself agreeing completely with her mama. And also hoping she never did anything that would cause her to aim one of these lectures directly at her.
The medic seemed only flustered in reply, seeming to emphasize the fact that Morgan was a child. This made her feel somewhat indignant, and she narrowed her eyes slightly at the man. The only thing that deterred this look was the "body count" mentioned. What kind of people were they?! Morgan really wasn't sure what to think, but her mama had said that perhaps the woman was only a victim of stress triggers, and a guard would probably only make them worse...
Okay, now she was worried.
And yet again, her expression turned indignant when he seemed to insist she was only a mere child, and deigned to declare what she could and could not do. And she had been politely silent this whole time and let the adults talked, but she couldn't take it any longer. Brow furrowing, she pointed directly at the medic.*
Hey! I'm not just a child! I'm a Jedi in training, I'm Felucia's daughter, and I know how to take care of myself! I'm not stupid!
*She then lowered her hand and glared at the ground in front of the medic's feet, muttering just audibly enough to be heard.*
People need to stop thinking I'm stupid just because I'm little.
*It almost immediately came to her that that was completely out of character for her. Briefly her expression softened, but then hardened again. She didn't care. She had to go through with it. Didn't she? She didn't know, but she wasn't about to just let herself be belittled by some person she didn't even know. She was the daughter of one of the base's headmasters, for crying out loud! She felt like she deserved a little more respect... and she was tired of demons, and evil creatures, and people with violent histories, and bad things happening to her mama, and bad things in general. It all just needed to stop already. At least for a little bit.*
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Adelle Bastiel
Member
Right or wrong? I can hardly tell. I'm on the wrong side of heaven and the righteous side of hell.
Posts: 338
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Post by Adelle Bastiel on May 13, 2013 9:36:27 GMT -8
Rash. She had been rash. Damn she needed more patience. Adelle breathed steadily as the doctor spoke, the hard look still in her eyes. But her expression smoothed over as she turned new data over in her mind. The doctor had panicked. That's all this was. His desire to protect had momentarily overrode his ability to consider new facts and he panicked in his need to protect. He finished speaking, and she had no objections to what he said. Really, she had agreed with everything he'd said.
"I understand your concer—" she began.
"Morgan," she said firmly, facing the young child. She hadn't missed the muttered part. "Would you please wait out in the hall for me while I finish speaking with the doctor?"
This was a tense enough situation without outbursts of emotion... and that included those coming from her. Her mistake had been in not thinking through her words but now every care must be taken. Morgan... To a degree, she was right. She was not stupid, was surprisingly self-sufficient, and a padawan. But padawans, even young ones, did not give in to outbursts like these in public. Padawans were to respect the judgment of older Jedi, even if they disagreed. And right now, Adelle felt that the healer was correct. She could not account for what dormant Force powers the young woman would use when provoked. It hadn't even crossed her mind to let Morgan close to the young woman if Adelle were allowed to work with her.
Adelle turned her attention back to the doctor. "I understand your concern and I assure you, I am well aware of the situation. I still maintain that it would be better to have a non-threatening sentient conduct her to a private room, if it truly is necessary to contain her. Violent instability stems from mental or psychological trauma, yes? Then it would be imperative to keep her as calm as possible, for the protection of your patients as well as her own health. Let me talk to her and see if there's something I can do."
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