Last Stand

Well, who would have thought that I'd have some luck. Zeline kicked a dent in one of her medical containers. Though her stuff had seen better days, she could still use most of it for her grim work.

Such grim work. She stared at her medications, her measuring tools, her needles, her scalpels...

Well, the first patient was herself, even if she might not deserve it. She re-checked the stitches from that bridge encounter. The stims, long worn out, had left the skin with a lingering burn. A gentle salve was enough, though, would take care of that as long as it was wrapped in a tight bandage.

Time for a smoke? Well, it would blend in with the smell. Zeline glanced around, wondering if she'd even need her lighter.

---

D1 EM: Medicine on Self, Less than Half of WT

Net Successes: 3; Net Advantages: 2

Surgeon 1 makes her go from 5 Wounds to 0 or 1 Wounds. (I believe we heal 1 Wound per rest?)

Following the skirmish on the bridge of the Concord Dawn and the crash landing that followed shortly on its heels, Sirina had spent much of the morning handling her priorities-- in this case, making the rounds of Kandra's Run shoulder wound be damned. In fact, for what she had in mind (mostly making an impression out of the impromptu homecoming) the still-smouldering injury would only be a benefit. But sooner or later, as the pain didn't diminish and Sirina was left to wrangle with the fact that it is hard to handle a rifle with a bum arm, and so she sought out first-aid.

"Lucky me, no line." She says, nodding a greeting to Zeline. "Feels better after your initial treatment-- thank you by the way. But it isn't quite 100%-- I almost talked myself into trying for a natural remedy just to avoid asking for help but I figured maybe don't try and wing rubbing some pine needles in a wound during wartime." Sirina shrugs, nonchalantly-- only for the motion to cause her to wince as pain lances down from her injured shoulder.

"No line yet." Zeline shrugged. "I don't intend on operating out of here for very long. Consider it a sneak peak of my new hospital, opening just later today." She tapped the pocket where her cigs were, a mental promise that she'd satisfy the craving later.

"So it's the same injury, right? I'm guessing our landing aggravated it though not enough that you're decommissioned." Zeline gestured towards her shattered bunk. "Obviously. Well, as I get everything prepared, you can give me some shooting tips, yeah?"

---

D1 EM Healing: Sirina, Medpac Boost, Over Half WT

Net Successes: 3; Net Advantages: 0

4 Wounds healed due to a rank in Surgeon.

"Let's both be honest, I think the lack of line suits both our needs just fine hmm? Were it up to me, I'd just rub some dirt in it very publicly and tough it out but even I know that won't cut it in the situation we're in."

Sirina pads over to the bunk, looks from it to Zeline with a gaze that says without words "you can't be serious", but puts up with it anyway. As Zeline readies her supplies, Sirina says, "They don't teach medics how to shoot? Or is it Republic standard to hand blasters out in a line and call it good so long as one bolt hits the target across the entire line's first pack? I can teach you a trick or two, maybe leave you with an exercise for when we're done and you're waiting however long for someone else to stroll up."

"Everyone wants to be tough," Zeline said with an exasperated sigh. "Makes it harder for me to patch them together later." Or they die, though she wasn't going to say that part right now. "So thank you for taking care of yourself."

Zeline shrugged as she organized her tools from the wreckage. "Oh, well, if we were well-trained, then I imagine the war would be going much better." She checked the bandage roll for any blemishes; as fortune would have it, the container had kept out any contaminants. "I learned to shoot as a kid, got drilled in basic, but it's still not enough."

When she came back to Sirina, tools ready, she wore a snarky smirk. "I just want to get better at preventative medicine."

"Ahh," Sirina says with a knowing grin, "well the best preventative medicine is a Blaster bolt to the head from 100 meters away, and that's as much about all the skills required to set up that shot as it is the skill of taking it. I can teach all that, but we'll have to find the time."

She sets about pulling off layers to allow Zeline easy access to the wound, wincing apl the way. First, Sirina peels off armored panels, then weather worn leathers, finally thermals until she can bear the rime blue skin of her shoulder. If the cold of being half-dressed for the frigid temps in the scarce shelter of the ship ruins bothers Sirina, she doesn't show it. Though the blaster burn looks better than it would fresh, the flesh around it is still red and raw-- seemingly agitated from all the recent activity.

"Well, if this is like any of my other deployments, then there'll be plenty of time." Most of it, in her experience, had been waiting around until the impending doom rolls in. Zeline still clung onto the hope that this time they could fight them back. Rough start, of course, but shaky optimism was the only way to keep herself going.

Zeline applied her scissors to any bandages she'd applied since that skirmish at the bridge. "Well, your condition has improved despite our circumstances. It's as simple as reapplying the same treatment... Well, maybe I need to rebalance it a bit." She circled back to sift through a crate until she found her desired gauss pads. "Dab the affected area for me please. Be gentle, of course." In the meantime, she went about mixing together what she thought might help the best. Was it traditional? Definitely not.

"Hmm, you know, since it's so quiet, I wonder if the Mandalorians know where we are." Zeline shook her head. "Otherwise I think they would have preyed upon us by now."

"All that spare time is classic Republic, too busy fighting its own bureaucracy and chain of command to fight the enemy. Don't worry, I think we're thoroughly on our own out here-- we're free to act on our own volition even if just a /little bit/ without immediately getting chewed out. Plenty of productive ways to fill that time, including passing on some skills. Wouldn't mind learning some basic first aid, myself. Though maybe I'm not booksmart enough for it." All while talking, Sirina is doing her best to dab delicately at the enflamed and injured skin on her shoulder, to mixed results and more than a few curses in a mix of Pantoran and local slang.

"Don't worry--" Sirina says through gritted teeth, "they'll find us soon enough. We left a nice trail in the sky of flame and black smoke. Then there's the wreck once they follow all that down. If they want to put some actions behind their talk of honor and all, we'll get lucky and they'll fight directly. But why do that when they can just blast is from above. Ideals so often fall when they run afoul of convenience."

Zeline shook her head. "It's not that simple. Well, can't speak for the Mandalorians, but their idea of R and R is fighting." She narrowed her brow, wondering how much of what she was talking about was actually just theory and not practice. It didn't really matter what truth was behind the often-boring routine of a soldier that had sprinkles of intensity on top. "Anyways, first aid... I'd recommend grabbing a medpac with a bunch of bright labels and a onboard video to help."

Of course, that probably wasn't a satisfactory answer. "Or... I guess I can give some tips too before they come swooping in, as you say. Or before we're a crater. Whatever happens to us."