Better/bitter

[Preliat Mantis]

Ryloth, Lessu​

"You've got em?"


He rested his cheek back on the stock, after settling down on the snowy roof.The voice in his ear belonged to his handler, Heana Jules. Heana was a wirey, nearing 70 woman with a tendency to send people to their deaths, or rather unfortunate imprisonments. Dass, so happened to be one of her best 'removers'. A person who was particularly able to make a target very, very, unfortunately dead. And he did it from usual about a mile away. This time, it was rather close. Hard to be far away when in an urban environment. Harder to be seen, but easier to get caught. Lots of possibilities, but trained people could usually pinpoint any sniper within a few shots. So Dass had to be very close, had to be very careful and had to be extremely accurate. If he missed, the ensuing poodoostorm that would come his way would certainly spell doom. But usually, the guard detail ran.

Dass, didn't ask for much detail on this one. All he knew is that it had something to do with young girls and the Hutts. Neither of which, made him feel remotely bad about taking this man's life. He was a Rodian, somewhat tall for his species, with pale green skin and the usual ugly features. So when he stepped into Dass' sights after exiting the same club he always went to, making his way onto the snowy street, Dass didn't feel anything but recoil as his slugthrowing rifle kicked. Verpine shatterguns were nice, but the puff of smoke could spell doom for a sniper. With cold-loaded ammo and a suppressor, anything was possible for Dass- given that the target was within 500 meters.

It was only a moment before the Rodian's green blood splashed over the white snow. His security detail knew the drill. There was no saving a person who got shot with this caliber of rifle dead-center in the chest. More than likely, the Rodian was already either dead, or was dead within seconds. Any time less than a minute, really. Dass smirked beneath his helmet.

"I got 'em."

There was an unusual pause. Then, he heard footsteps behind him. Several. More than just kids playing in an abandoned building. Weapons clinking. Magazines in pouches. Gear. Assassins.

"They paid me to take you out too, Dass. You should understand, after all- you are a businessman."

And that's where it would end, hm? A snowy building on a planet not his own. Forgotten by a military that no longer existed. Used in a pawn of some scheme by some other criminal. Some other ne'erdowell that only wanted the Rodian dead. And whoever pulled the trigger. The logic failed to come to him. Maybe they'd blame him, use him as a scapegoat of some kind. Power struggle, maybe. Dass turned and saw the first assassin. Dass had time to pull out his handgun. Not suppressed. Not a slugthrower. A blaster. He shot dead the first two, but was hit by a blaster bolt. A stun round. His body locked up. It was all over now. His armor did little to save him. They pulled off his helmet. They took out a scanner, and a green laser grid ran over his face. They were confirming it was him. Professionals. He could respect that, at least. Then, a final masked assassin produced a sledgehammer. They were going to beat him to death with a hammer- at least he thought, then he saw them go to the window where he was. One of them threw the rifle out. The assassin with the hammer hit the ground and the wall several times, but didn't break it. The window was barely holding on at this point. Dass was unable to comprehend in his state of what they were doing. They hoisted him up, and shoved him against the wall. He understood when the wall gave of what they were doing.

Story went like this-

Assassin shoots Rodian crime boss. Suffers fatal fall after firing from poor position.

He heard sirens in the distance. He heard children laughing.


Then, he felt snow.

And then, nothing but pain. His body was encased in it. He couldn't scream. He could only feel. He felt...awful. He closed his eyes as he heard the sirens coming closer. Death was coming for Dass Tallav. But unfortuantely, for Mr. Tallav- it wasn't today. Emergency services swarmed the scene, and took away Dass, and in their dire need, they reached out to the best medical professional they had on their minds.

[member="Cathul Thuku"]

[misspelled your name and JUST now realized it.]

 

[Cathul Thuku]

OOC: This thread is assumed to take place before any threads where Cathul deals with the aftermath of Midvinter.

IC: "The patient is in critical condition. We need a hoversled, stat!"

"Roger, roger"

"Before any treatment begins, you will be placed under general anaesthesia. You have suffered internal hemorrages, fractures, requiring emergency treatment"

The main question being: how the feth she ended up having to answer a house call on Ryloth? The ambulance, as used by ground-bound EMTs on Ryloth, had the ability to take in one patient. Here [member="Dass Tallav"] sustained many injuries caused by a trauma of some sort; before the host of emergency (Force-)surgeries could begin, he would need to be placed under general anaesthesia. And so she proceeds to use the Force to induce general anaesthesia to put him asleep while the injuries are worked on. That was not good at all, she thought, when she sensed in the patient that there were internal hemorrages alongside fractures: these had to be treated first. Once the patient fell asleep, she planned to then proceed to use the Force to close all the holes in the blood vessels that caused said internal hemorrages; true, it was a godsend to her to be able to use Force-healing, but she had the feeling that it was one of those things that could take hours, much like the Force-chemo stint with one Kami Meran. Meanwhile, everyone else frantically watches the vital signs of the patient for anything that could be wrong while Dass is being worked on.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

Ow.

He was barely able to reliably move- much less form a coherent thought for a while. He thrashed violently, suffering a spasm from the violent impact. He leaned back as he was placed under the anesthetic. He remembered his descent to hell, in the brief few seconds he was still able to hold onto consciousness.

He remembered being a child, with his father on Tatooine. He remembered the sweeping dunes. The twin suns setting on the ruined buildings of days gone by. He remembered the feeling of safety, of comfort- of hope. He remembered having hope. Where the galaxy didn't seem so dark and unforgiving. Where the wars, the planet-killing maelstroms of individuals with god-like powers, the turmoil of the wars he participated in- didn't matter. They didn't exist to the young boy.

He silently reached out a hand, as the anesthetic took hold of him. He was reaching out for comfort, some sign that he was going to be okay. He was scared. He was very afraid, and alone in both the moment, and in the galaxy.

[member="Cathul Thuku"]

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Now that [member="Dass Tallav"] was under anaesthesia, Cathul realizes that the patient had some spasms as a result of the shock of the fall that caused him to be in an ambulance in the first place, but she still had a duty to help out. She focused the Force-energies in sewing back the blood vessels that caused internal bleeding, knowing that internal bleeding was a medical concern that was more urgent than the others. Once again, she was grateful for the ability to administer Force-treatment - and her experience as a therapist, which allowed her to learn about a variety of traumas and whatnot (even though the last third of her career as a therapist was much more troubled than the earlier two-thirds): it allowed her to perform procedures that would normally require incisions, even though she knew it would not negate the need to anesthesize. But she couldn't do that much because the trip to the hospital in the capital was a little short, so she couldn't get all of it done in the ambulance; she had to stay at the patient's side to continue plugging away at the remaining internal hemorrages using the Force, while in the triage area.

"State the nature of the medical emergency" the triage nurse asked at the ambulance entrance.

"The patient has been stabilized, and is still under Force-induced anaesthesia, but the patient still suffers from a host of fractures: orthopedics is where the patient should go once the procedures are over"

"All right, Force-healer, the patient will be in ward #110 and you may continue your work there"

The hoversled containing the patient is brought to a hospital ward on ground level, with other patients in musculo-skeletal/orthopedic care. But she found it much more difficult to continue using Force-healing when she is herself walking with a hoversled, laden with the patient, in tow. Yet she knew that it was a question of computational power: using the Force to sew torn blood vessels wasn't the most Force-intensive usage of Force-healing. After a short while...

"We have arrived, Force-healer: you may continue your work and you may ask for casts at any time but the patient must be kept immobilized at this time" the triage nurse told Cathul.

 

[Preliat Mantis]

He remembered the brutality of it all- the men, the uniforms, and especially the training. The One Sith were brutal and tough, desiring order and peace in the galaxy through an iron fist. Back in those days, Dass believed in it all- and even so far as to get the long-standing memories of Stormtroopers past tattooed on his hands. The One Sith pushed him. Abused him. Broke him down into tiny pieces at times, and built him back up- made him a soldier. An unflinching soldier of the One Sith, fighting for the great red banner against the corrupt Jedi, the weak Republic and the vile Mandalorian savages. At least, that's what he used to believe. The lies crumbled when the One Sith did. The rallying cries that he had fallen prey to were nothing but false promises and thinly-veiled lies that, as a young man, he had failed to see through. His parents were so proud of him, he remembered from the videos and from the letters. So proud of their soldier. Hung a picture of him in his pristine uniform. In his glory, in his strength, he remained flat and iron-willed on the wall.

They took it down when the truth about the One Sith came around. They didn't want to be supporting a monster anymore.

Dass came to shortly after the brief remembrance, semi-conscious in a brand-new environment, an unfamiliar parade of smells, sights, and sounds greeted his senses. He must've been under some form of anesthetic, because he couldn't move- and he wasn't in that much pain. But it felt..less chemical, for some reason. Felt more like someone was holding him, someone was guiding the pain away. He felt oddly comforted, despite his injuries. He managed to move his lips- barely. He spoke just above a whisper.

"Where am I?"

[member="Cathul Thuku"]

 

[Cathul Thuku]

"You're in Lessu General Hospital; you suffered a number of fractures in your fall, but it might be a good idea to avoid putting too much weight on your legs for a few days"

Cathul could sense that, somehow, she could manage to get the work done within three hours of the ambulance picking [member="Dass Tallav"] up. To be fair, mending broken bones was often on the program of beginners in Force-healing, but even so, the number of fractures were staggering. She would be one of those who would warn any beginner in Force-healing not to expect near-instant healing on the one hand, and on the other hand, it would not excuse the patient from observing precautions of NFU medicine. True, often patients undergoing Force-healing under Force-induced anaesthesia were often made to feel that it was less chemical (but still somewhat chemical, because of the chemical nature of neurotransmitters) She looked at the patient in the Force, much as she would a doppraymagno, and it all seems to check out, notwithstanding the loss of blood during the internal hemorrage part of it, but a single pouch of blood will be needed.

"The procedures were a success. Nevertheless, you suffered internal hemorrages during the fall, hence the reason for the blood transfusion right next to you"

 

[Preliat Mantis]

( I apologize- this slipped by the wayside. )


He blinked. He felt...fine. He ached and hurt- but he felt relatively fine. He had broken bones before. He looked around the room, trying to get a gist of where he really, was. General hospital- he wasn't in police custody. Maybe they were coming for him. Maybe they weren't. He tried to reach his arm- the muscular aches proved too much, and he let it fall back down. He looked over at the blood transfusion, then over to the Twi'lek. She didn't seem like a doctor- but at the same time, she did. It was an odd feeling.

He shifted his weight in the bed. He could remember the medical treatment from the One Sith- nothing quite as...gentle as this.

"Are you the one who treated me?"

Whoever they were, he had a number of questions- and if he was perhaps, subject to some sort of experimental treatment.

[member="Cathul Thuku"]

 

[Cathul Thuku]

"Oh yes, I am the one that treated you. Even though it may feel like a... less chemical treatment, for those patients unfamiliar with Force-healing, Force-healers aren't common around here. However, Force-healing does not excuse one from having to take recovery time"

For some reason she could feel [member="Dass Tallav"] having some lingering questions about the procedures, even though guiding the pain away is a common feeling for patients that have been subjected to conventional Force-healing. She knew about how using the dark side for Force-healing didn't quite feel like guiding the patient's pain away, just that they needed to focus on the pain of others to heal the user itself. Or perhaps focusing on their own pain to heal other people.

"Do you have any questions?"

 

[Preliat Mantis]

He remembered the shifting sands, the weight of his footsteps and how it felt to walk along a dune with a rifle in hand. How the sun would bounce off of the right kind of blanket and make a nice cool spot over time. How that blanket would make a nice warm spot when you were waiting for the bantha to seek out the bait in the coolness of the desert nights. How it applied to hunting men, the more dangerous game. He remembered all this, when the pain was subsiding. It lingered, like a bad taste or a painful memory- but not as much as he would have expected.

His eyes widened when she spoke of the force- a Jedi. The Jedi, and Force Users, were particularly worrisome to a man like Dass. He had grown up fearing them, and now he was face-to-face with one, who saved him from a lifetime of crippling pain, and possibly even from death. He stammered, trying to formulate a coherent thought- he had a plethora of questions, he had a myriad of things he wanted to say. But he just had one question for [member="Cathul Thuku"], for now.

"Why did you save me?"

He spoke lowly, and quietly- as if he was ashamed of it. Why did he deserve to be saved, in lieu of a dying man with a family? Why did the Jedi take a particular interest in him? Was it by chance, or was there some greater purpose to her being here? Was he going to be hung and quartered for his service in the One Sith's army? Was he going to face judgement for his crimes?

"What's your name?"

He followed up, realizing that he could talk- although, he did not use the usual tone of confidence. It was one of fear.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

"It's just that I was following standard medvac protocol. You have to understand that Force-users can't be everywhere at once: the Force has its limits"

The question asked was not devoid of legitimacy: she had some recollections of that kind of ethical dilemmas, whose outcomes would be oftentimes quite different if more information is known about the options. She could sense [member="Dass Tallav"]'s fears: just him asking the question may, in her mind, conjure up a list of reasons for why he could be made to fear Force-users like her. Even though she was, well, part of the Alliance admiralty, just being associated with a regime known for having left a trail of destruction across the galaxy was not enough to catch the low-level NFU staff and judge them: after all, most of the low-level staff butchered under orders. Actual Sith would make much juicier targets. Might be best not to tell him that I'm an Alliance admiral: it will only make his fears worse, and in many more ways than one: few people would expect to find even one Jedi to be a Force-healer and an admiral at the same time, she thought. A partial list of Sith still at large and wanted by Alliance authorities included Darth Praelior, Darth Centax, Vrag, Darth Carnifex, Darth Venefica, Darth Prazutis, Matsu Xiangu and, of course, Reverance.

"I'm Cathul, a witch, but you could be forgiven if you mistook me for some Jedi. Jedi come in many different flavors, and Sith, too. And other space wizards as well"

But if, at some point, he wanted to research her for some reason, it will be unmistakeable that her position as an Alliancist admiral is going to turn up. And then he will be left wondering why, so may as well tell him immediately. And that's not simply the question of the limitations of her jurisdiction as a Jedi. There are areas where Jedi cannot intervene, in law enforcement terms, such as patients in a hospital, even though the patient committed crimes prior to being hospitalized, provided no action was taken to arrest the patient before the patient was hospitalized (until the patient is cleared to leave the hospital, that is).

"I do not have any law enforcement authority here"