About: The Gift Horse's Mouth   Sponge Permalink

An Entity of Type : owl:Thing, within Data Space : 134.155.108.49:8890 associated with source dataset(s)

Infirmary The central area of this room is taken up by a large bacta tank, attended to by a modern looking medical droid. The rest of the room is scattered with bunks, a good two dozen at least. The bunks are made of a dark gray metal that clashes oddly with the new bacta tank, and pair of medical droids moving around attending to their tasks. The back of the infirmary has an area partitioned off, inside are the various computer systems and tools needed for medical analysis, and a desk for the ships medical officer.

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  • The Gift Horse's Mouth
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  • Infirmary The central area of this room is taken up by a large bacta tank, attended to by a modern looking medical droid. The rest of the room is scattered with bunks, a good two dozen at least. The bunks are made of a dark gray metal that clashes oddly with the new bacta tank, and pair of medical droids moving around attending to their tasks. The back of the infirmary has an area partitioned off, inside are the various computer systems and tools needed for medical analysis, and a desk for the ships medical officer.
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abstract
  • Infirmary The central area of this room is taken up by a large bacta tank, attended to by a modern looking medical droid. The rest of the room is scattered with bunks, a good two dozen at least. The bunks are made of a dark gray metal that clashes oddly with the new bacta tank, and pair of medical droids moving around attending to their tasks. The back of the infirmary has an area partitioned off, inside are the various computer systems and tools needed for medical analysis, and a desk for the ships medical officer. Davis struts into the infirmary, his face completely restored, sans hair and eyes. An angry grimace is plastered across his face. "Take me to one of the examination rooms," he asks his guide. Rushii is still in the infirmary, for lack of something better to do with herself. But for the first time in weeks, the officer is completely healthy again. She is away from the bactatanks, her back turned resolutely to the rest of the medical center, and apparently engaged in some rehabilitation exercises with one arm. Facing away like that blocks her view of those clear-skin medics. *Entirely* too many of them around. She catches the familiar voice though, and hazards peeking over her shoulder. Dudly Perry is still laying on one of the beds. His wounds look a little more healed, but he's still lost a lot of blood. He was put in the tanks earlier in the day, but was pulled out after letting the bacta get on his wounds for a few hours to make room for Cooper, who is now in that tank. He's asleep right now, and his breathing still sounds a tad labored. The guide hesitates, unsure what Davis could possibly be wanted. The Imperial seems none-to-interested with vacillation. "Now," he hisses. "Or we can do it here. Get me a scalpel." Not a sensible request, but Davis seems to not be in a sensible mood. Rather, a dark and dangerous one. Who really expects sensible these days? Not the Lieutenant, who though finally healed, is trying to seclude herself from the clear-skins as much as possible as she works some rehabilitation exercises. Apparently not the Corporal, who has just entered the infirmary and is fiercely demanding a scalpel from his J'rathi guide. And Dudly? Well, when was the last time any of the Imperials thought him sensible. Rushii, her brows drawing together as she catches sight of the Corporal - and perhaps more importantly, the Corporal's expression - turns away from her attempt at isolation. "Do what, Corporal?" the woman calls out, asserting her presence to the blind non-com. Speaking of Dudly, he is starting to wake up now. His eyelids flutter open, and he squints to get used to the light. He moans a little bit in pain. Davis cocks his head to the side, turning the eerily healed face towards Rushii. "Show proper respect for services rendered," he answers. "If the J'rathi won't give me a knife, then you will, Lieutenant. That's an order." Gelidus strolls into the medical bay looking refreshed. He's wearing his old clothes, though they look like the numerous holes have been patched up using borrowed material. He is carrying an E-11 slung over his shoulder and a pair of blaster pistols in his belt. He has caught only Davis's last statement. "A knife for what, Davis?" he asks curiously, not certain what he has missed. A furrow draws across Rushii's forehead; she can't see where this might be going. "I rather doubt you rank me, Corporal," she reminds, a slight tug at the corners of her mouth for the vehemence. But that doesn't mean she's not willing to give Davis the benefit of doubt. She moves around one of the medical beds, trying to seek out a scalpel or something before approaching. The light scrape of instruments, and medical gear jostled mildly, might alert Davis that she's acting. As Gelidus joins in, her eyes flick up towards him, and Rushii inclines her head in greeting to the Stormtrooper. Dudly Perry sits up slowly on his medical bed, looking around, in a low voice, "Whats...going on?" "Don't start questioning me now, Lieutenant," Davis replies irritably, stepping towards the woman. He holds out a hand. "I appreciate your help." He ignores Gelidus pointedly, single-mindedly focused upon his present task, mysterious as it may be. Gelidus nods a greeting to the Lieutenant and then holds out his hand in a halting motion, obviously gesturing for her to not obey the Corporal quite yet. "What's the blade for, Davis?" he repeats, a bit more insistent this time. Rushii needs to find them an unattended blade, or this is all a moot point. She interprets Gelidus' gesture as an injunction not to give anything to the Corporal, not to completely stop what she's doing. "Actually, Corporal," the navy officer responds, her words purposefully slow in the face of Davis' irritability. Slow, but crisp. "I think now would be an excellent time to question. Our situation seems to have improved, I can't in good conscience just let things happen around me anymore, without at *least* understanding." Ah, there we go, a small medical knife. Dudly Perry looks confused at what the Troopers and Rushii are doing. Then his eyes widen a bit. Partly he has a bad feeling about a blind man with a blade, partly his eyes getting used to the light. He leans over to his belongings, ruffling through them. "Personal reasons," Davis growls to Rushii. "I need to expunge the Jedi taint from my skin as best I can." He runs a hand across his face, which is turning crimson. He's obviously become completely irrational since Luck's actions. "Hurry up..." Gelidus looks at Davis with a combination of anger and disgust. "You're going to mangle your face?" he asks incredulously. He moves toward Rushii, shaking his head as he does so to indicate that they definitely want to keep sharp objects away from the Corporal for the moment. "Davis, I want you to listen carefully to me," he states in a calm voice while at the same time passing a blaster pistol set on stun to the Lieutenant. "You haven't been harmed or tainted." Rushii's brows arch, completely taken aback by the Corporal's behavior. "You're not thinking clearly," she chides, firmly. Dudly is sitting on a bed looking confused, but Gelidus, Davis, and Rushii herself are all pretty intent on the situation. Davis is ranting and turning red in his newly healed face, Rushii withholding a small medical knife, and Gelidus speaking calmly to the Corporal as he passes the Lieutenant a pistol. The pistol is accepted, and just as promptly tucked away in her belt. This is not a pleasant situation, but it doesn't require the Imperials shooting one of their own. "I'm sure you know I have no love of the Jedi myself, but I can see *nothing* to be gained from this. Only time spent under psychological evaluation once we return to the Empire. I can't see that being your goal." Telal slowly opens his eyes, blinking for a second to clear them, before sitting up, leaning against one of his arm and looking towards Rushii and the others, "Problem, Lieutenant?" Dudly Perry finds one of the things he was looking for, his pistol. He quickly moves to set it for stun, before puting in the back of his pants. He goes back to rumaging through his belongings, saying nothing. Davis sneers at Rushii. "Oh. And losing eyes isn't enough. Dealing with Jedi isn't enough? We're all going to be in for evals, debriefings, and, me, for implants for /quite/ some time." He pats his face. "But the last thing I want to have is some Jedi, 'I love you though you'll kill me' message on my face." He crosses his arms, gritting his teeth. The muscles of his jaw bunch visibly, and the veins in his neck and forehead begin to bulge. "Dammit . . . don't deny me this, Lieutenant." He spins towards Gelidus, a shaky finger pointed at the Stormtrooper. "And Private, you're skirting on the edge here." Gelidus nods slowly, detecting Dudly movements. "Maybe so, Corporal," he says as he unslings his rifle and turns toward the unstable pilot. "But I have no intention of allowing you to mutilate yourself in your current mental state," he addresses Davis before turning his head to Dudly. "Take the pistol back out of your belt and set it on the medical bed, you crazy bastard. Slowly," Gelidus orders softly to the pilot. Telal frowns, glancing around the infirmary, "Would someone mind telling me what is going on?" Dudly Perry laughs at Gelidus. "Calling me...a crazy bastard...he's the one who wants to cut 'is face off." He continues going through his stuff. "Don't worry...its on stun...and I'll take it out in...a few seconds..." His hand still moving around all of his belongings. The sneer doesn't sit well with Rushii. Her expression stiffens slightly, not that Davis can see it. "Fine. So we've all got a battery of beuraucratic slag to deal with when we get back. But that's what we've got to do. Deal with it." The words are practically spit back at Davis, for all she inwardly shudders at the idea of having a Jedi use that kind of power around her. "I am *not* indulging some self-pitying, egoistic, -puerile- display! I thought better of you, Corporal, not to be hit by such a pissant encounter with those Jedi. As you said, it's a message, but giving you this knife won't change the fact that the Jedi *acted* that way. You'll just have different scars, a mark of your own hand unable to keep your wits about you after one of their," her lips curl into a sneer of their own, "lovey pacifist tactics. And that is *not* something we will allow." Her hand grips the medical knife with such force that the edge of the blade is cutting into the side of her palm, but the Lieutenant doesn't notice. Telal's question isn't even addressed - he can figure it out himself. Gelidus brings the weapon up into ready position, aiming down the barrel at Dudly's head. "Yours may be set on stun, but mine isn't. I haven't killed you out of simple courtesy for our hosts, but we've had a talk with Djalin, and we CAN dispose of you if you're a danger. Now I'll say it again," he states softly, "Take your hands out and put the pistol on the bed. I won't ask again." Davis frowns, crossing his arms. His voice takes an indignant tone. "Fine. So be it." He turns towards the exit, or where he believes the exit is. Telal continues to frown, looking at Davis, before turning to Rushii, "Did the Jedi mess with his mind, like the bitch did with Dudly?" Lying perfectly still on one of the beds here, the Knight slowly returns to consciousness. Most noticeably, his eye opens, and both begin moving around, taking in his surroundings. After a moment, he sits straight up, ignoring the sudden lack of blood in his head as he looks about, silent for the moment. Well, what a good time to walk in. Davis isn't happy with the way his plastic surgery went and is trying to get a knife to set it back. Or at least he was until Rushii told him off and he started walking away. Rushii is holding onto a scalpel was about to give it to Davis until he said what he wanted to do with it. She also has a DH-17 set for stun in her belt. Gelidus was trying to stop Davis, but is now point and E-11 down at Dudly, and yelling at him as well. Dudly has a DH-17 stuffed into the back of his pants. He's wearing pants, but the rest of his belongings are on his bed. He's going through them looking for something. He speaks up, "You know, Trooper...I'm not fighting you...if you want to kill me, go for it. As far as you're concerned...I'm dead anyway...so why...should I care whether....you shoot me now...or I get taken back to the empire...and get executed." He continues rummaging through his belongings looking for something. He still looks badly beat up from the fight the other night, but seems to be healthy to the point he can move around. Rushii glares at Davis' retreating back, her jaw set as the muscles of it clench together. The Corporal isn't demanding a knife anymore, but oddly, that doesn't settle the Lieutenant as a satisfactory conclusion should. Like he might just find a different method to accomplish the same thing. Let him leave, if he could even manage it, she'd give up what control she had just gained if she moved after him at all. "I wasn't there," she informs Telal, finally answering the Stormtrooper's questions, though her eyes still follow the Corporal's movements. "But I suspect you're not giving the men enough credit for the levels of stupidity they can reach on their own." Gelidus glares down the barrel of his rifle at Dudly, then notices the Twi'lek sit up. "Jedi!" he says, relief evident on his face. "We've got some problems. The Corporal there is planning to do some self surgery on the healing you gave him, and the crazy one," he says with a gesture toward Dudly, "Isn't safe with a gun." Davis stops, looking towards Gelidus. He spits to the side. "Traitor. You're no better than the pilot," the Corporal says, the words carrying venom. He motions for his guard to help guide him out, disgust plain across his face. He awaits no replies, and moves fast enough that it's not worth the effort to follow.
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