Bankor

Returning from the funeral rites at the Resistance camp, Cole made his way to the medical tents. While he'd been observing the Zabrack's customs, a small crack team had been endeavouring to retrieve Mandalorian artefacts before they were destroyed. He'd had enough time now to see just what the Mandalorian conquerors were capable of, and he wanted to be here when the team returned.

Layne would, at some point, find her way over to the medical tents. She'd gotten some serious injuries in the fight, and could use a check-up... although she made sure to avoid any crazy droids along the way. When she walked in, Cole might recognize her; she looked very much the same as she did on Nar Shaddaa. A little bit older perhaps, hardly noticeable. A casual glance might even still make her out to be a sith... despite the fact she was a jedi now.



[Would've used a stimpack in the earlier scene, so she'd be at 6 suffered wounds, and 1 critical injury to be healed]

Cole pushed his spectacles up the bridge of his nose and looked at the fiery young Jedi with clear surprise, "Layne? is that you?" Last he'd heard of the volatile woman, he'd been transferring an anonymous payment for her, as a thank you for her help, and in the hopes that it would help her in return.

"Do I know you?" she blinked, a little confused, then realization dawning. "Oh yeah, you were on Nar Shaddaa during the talks, weren't you?"

Running a hand through his blonde curls, "I was. You helped rescue those kids," he was still grateful for what she did, at such short notice. Indicating to a nearby bed, the back raised so the patient could sit back comfortably, "take a seat, I saw the names on the duty roster and figured some of you would be in tonight. Were you successful?"

"Thanks," she said as he offered her a seat. "We were. Mostly. Managed to capture the one in charge. I've had tougher fights, but not many."

"That's a good get," he tapped his spectacles to turn them on, the faint blue light reflecting in his eyes as the bed's diagnostic computer filled his vision with data. "You're in pretty good shape for a tough fight," if he ever found himself in a fight, he hoped to have someone as strong as Layne by his side. "You've got some severed tendons in that arm, so let me open that up first."

He didn't waste any time, numbing the area and slicing small keyholes around the elbow. He expertly reattached the tendons in their rightful places and sealed up the small cuts with dabs of synthflesh, it was over quickly, with not even a mark to show where he'd been at work. Cole patched some minor wounds, and administered an anti-inflammatory, finally nodding in satisfaction that he'd done an excellent job - if he did say so himself.


---
D2 LE: Crit-Layne; Medicine, Hard, Boost from Facilities: 2eP+2eA+2eB+3eD 3 successes, 2 advantage, 1 Triumph

Critical Injury (Crippled Weapon Arm) removed.

D2 LE: Heal-Layne; Medicine, Easy, Boost from Facilities: 2eP+2eA+2eB+1eD 6 successes

9 Wounds Healed.

Layne sat through the procedure without moving or complaining, the perfect patient. Not that she'd noticed any issues with her arm before, but that had probably been the adrenaline talking given she was starting to feel a whole lot better as the procedure neared completion.

"Thanks doc, glad to see not all the medical staff is crazy and incompetent."



(the crippled arm crit actually never applied, it was the overpowered crit that she got hit with, but that one's a bit hard to define so we can play it as it)

Aran had returned from the museum more badly hurt than perhaps he had ever been. That being small in the scale of war, he had been released by triage to wait, if only briefly, with his torn, bloody, smokestained robes traded for a patient's garb and a field dressing.

He had taken the opportunity to meditate. Fasting, extremes of temperature, intense physical exertion -- all were used by the Jedi to sharpen the mind and deepen their awareness of the Force. Having never been so wounded, he wondered if pain was similar.

Well, never so wounded except for that one speeder crash, but that was an accident, not an act of willful violence in a brutally destructive cause. How could the Mandalorians be so, so kriffing... There is no passion, there is serenity. Injury was certainly a more challenging meditation than fasting.

He waited perhaps longer than necessary, temporarily ignored by a medical staff who knew that he was breathing and not screaming or bleeding, and therefore not an immediate problem. He resurfaced, asked where he should go, and was directed to Cole.

He approached slowly, seeing Cole was with a patient, and waited calmly until noticed. "Layne. I am glad to see you are well. Dr. Cole? I was told to find you." His young face is soot-streaked and somewhat drawn, and his brow is uncharacteristically troubled by a slight furrow.

"I'm Doctor Ormont, yes," corrected unsubtly, he was wiping down the bed Layne had just vacated and placing another disposable sheet over it, "please take a seat."


---
(( OOC: you lot and your crits and soak and nonsense, it's very difficult to keep track! ))

She nodded at the newcomer, then turning back to Cole.

"This guy helped," she said.

Well, he did go down pretty quickly but... eh, he helped.

"Do you need me to clear the room?"

"You can stay," he told Layne as he quickly ran through the names that had been on the duty roster, Delmi was female and he'd met Zhao, "you must be Jedi Enfas."

Another woman slowly filed into the medical area of the encampment with some light burns and the remains of a blaster strike or two on her clothes...


---

Just wounds. No crits to heal.

Remaining HP: 5/15

As Delmi entered, Cole indicated to the next bed, “please take a seat. I’m Doctor Ormont.”

She nodded and did as instructed. "Delmi Koor."

She replied simply as she took her place.

Seeing that Aran was somewhat dazed, and realise he would need more of the doctor’s time, he turned to Delmi. “Just some minor patching up, then?” He sets about his work, but it’s clear his mind is still on Aran.


——
D2 LE: Healing-Delmi Medicine, Average, Boost from Facilities: 2eP+2eA+2eB+2eD 0 successes, 3 advantage

Orokos takes Cole’s surgical background way too seriously.

She nodded, "Depends on what you mean by minor, but yeah. Thanks doc."

Seeming to realise his faux pas, the socially-awkward surgeon peeled off his gloves, tossing them in a bin, and running his fingers through his hair, “yes, right, sorry.” He looked tired, pale, and very disappointed in himself; expression guarded, but his blue-grey eyes unhappy.

"Well," Layne's posture was relaxed now, "I did take most of the hits I think. Although you got most of ours in on him. The material his armor was coated in is really something. Only faced it once before."

"I am sorry, Dr. Ormont," said Aran, smiling faintly and making an apologetic gesture to his bandages by way of explanation for his slip. "I am grateful for your aid."

"Layne and... Captain? Koor did by far the greater part." He hesitates. "I think. I was unconscious for much of it."

Cole adjusted his spectacles and pulled on fresh gloves, “quite alright, Jedi Enfas, please just sit back and I’ll examine you.” The faint blue light from his spectacles was all but invisible to anyone except the doctor under the harsh glare of the facility’s lights. To the group in general, “I hope you were able to recover most, or all, of the artefacts.”


——
Cole must attend the highest-scoring Crit first.
D2 LE: Aran-Crit; Medicine, Average, Boost from Facilities: 2eP+2eA+2eB+2eD 4 successes, 3 advantage

Critical Injury (Scattered Senses) removed.

"Not really," she said, slight shrug. "Bastards were using grenades and flamethrowers. We only managed to save a few pieces."

"Kryze was willing to send such warriors, and they to die, to destroy these people's past, and with it their future," murmured Aran sedately under the whirr and hiss of Ormont's tools. "Surely to save even a single piece is to preserve an ember of the flame they hoped to douse forever." He blinked muzzily. "Maybe that is the wrong phrase..."

Cole peeled off his gloves. One hand went through his messy hair, the other patted the Jedi reassuringly on the shoulder, “wise words. Get some rest; you should be be clearer in the morning, but you’ll need to come back tomorrow for a follow up.”

Hamelin arrives and gives a greeting to everyone. <Auduin teradas>
"Good evening everyone."

He waits patiently in line. Once it is his turn, Cole can probably tell right away that he has been walking around with a bad wound for almost 2 whole days at this point.


Current Wounds: 8/13
1 Crit = 84 - Winded