Atrivis Sector

[GM Craig]

Nim hesitated on the gear question. She didn't care about the weapons really, but was definitely uncomfortable leaving her coat and very slightly seemed to hold it closer.

"Appreciate it, but I'll just keep it with me." She looked at Tyran, realizing it could be taken offensively or distrusting. "Just.. bad experience with Imps and snow."

She offloaded anything that Trax did, and did take the headgear and gloves off, stuffing them into a pocket. The woman rubbed her hands together, remembering numbness and frostbite. And crimson stains.

"So, tell us about you and the crew while we head there," Nim suddenly smiled, perking up. "I want to hear all about the people that beat down the bastards."

You guys head to the lift. "Not much to tell. We're just folk, you know. Used to hard work. But when the Empire commandeered the mine, working conditions went downhill fast. We were slaves, forced to work for no wages and little food. Derek had been a foreman, before the Empire came in, and he held us together for the most part. Subtle, just a quiet word here and there, keep the lads' spirits up, you know? Kept his head down, but he was a motivator. Then, one of the guys had a bootleg receiver he kept stashed away, and thats how we heard your broadcast. Well, that got everyone so fired up. We had a meeting, and Derek asked us all if we were ready to fight. To a one, we said yes. He had all these plans - I guess he had been thinking about this a long time. He'd already figured out how to rejigger the mining lasers into weapons, had a plan for the exoskeletons. Figured he knew what the Empire would do, and blast it all if he weren't right on the money. The Empire turtled at the mine entrance, and we walked all over them. It was over before it really got started. The Empire were preparing for a long siege, but we rolled over them like a big wave, and in a couple of hours the station was ours. It's all Derek, you ask me. He's the one with the plan, and he's the one got everyone good and riled up."

The lift doors open, and you find yourself in a worked stone corridor, with suspended power cables running down the passage. Harsh lighting shows the way, and a sign in front of you points to the right for the medical centre. Left are the barracks and cafeteria.

"Derek's in the med bay - caught a blaster to the face, poor sod. But he's tough as durasteel, that man is. You'll find him there. I gotta get back up. Derek's worried about an orbital bombardment, so I gotta watch the sensors."

[Nim Naja]

Nim looked at the door to the bay, not entirely sure how to approach a stranger without introduction. "That's a good idea. In fact, if you spot anything at all out of the ordinary, please do let me know as well." She shared her comm with Tyran but didn't feel comfortable alarming him yet on just how right Derek may be. When he left she headed for the medical center.

[Trax]

Trax followed Nim into the medbay and instinctively scanned the room.  Normally an action like this from the former hunter was to check for threats, this time however it was to asses the injured.  He was no slouch when it came to dealing with injuries, he'd even had to heal is own in the field.  And of course, a little extra good will on their part could go a long way in any negotiations to come.

[OOC: Let's see if Trax can put that nice First Aid skill to some good use.]

[GM Craig]

There's a few patients here, so Trax checks in with the 2-1B droid and quickly gets put to work. The rebels here apparently do not have a lot of supplies, so the medkits you carry would help a great deal. Most of the dozen or so patients here have varying severity blaster burns and other signs of battle. The medical droid has been doing a good job, but droids aren't known for their bedside manner. Trax lending a hand is a welcome reprieve from that.

Maris sets up by the door, keeping an eye on things. It's scary how easily you all loose track of her, even when she's not ghosting. She has a knack for not being seen unless you are actively looking for her.

Nim spots a section of the medical ward that is walled off with mobile curtains. Walking lightly up, she raps on the divider, and receives a gruff, "Come."

Moving the divider aside, she walks in and sees a large wreck of a man. He has heavy bandaging over an eye, what look like severe blaster burns on his left arm and shoulder, and has been wired up with tubes and IV solutions. He looks rough, and the parts of him not bandaged are heavily bruised.

"Don't mind the mess, it looks worse than it is. I'm Derrek Wen. Forgive me for not shaking hands - broken bones."

[Nim Naja]

"Kark," she said, stepping inside and closing the curtain. Nim turned to Wren with a shake of the head but a grin of sorts. "And this is the part where you say I should've seen the other guy, yeah?"

She walked forward a bit and pulled down her medic shades to see if the droids had left anything unresolved. "Name's Nim," she said, scanning him.  "Do you like Derek or Wren? Or Derek Wren?"

[Trax]

Trax moved from patient to patient checking them each over in turn.  Having the report from the droid wasn't especially useful to start seeing as he didn't know who was who, so with each person he began with introductions and then moved on to small talk as he performed his examinations.  Asking how they were doing, congratulating them on a hard fought victory and the story around how they were injured were his standard talking points.  From there he let each patient take the conversation where they wanted.

For those that didn't seem to be recovering well he broke out his medpacks.  The hunter in him knew expending them was unwise, but he wasn't here as a hunter so he had to set those thoughts aside.

[OOC: I'm not sure if there's any specific discussions/interactions with any of the wounded you want to happen which is why I made the post pretty generic and open.]

[GM Craig]

"Kark... And this is the part where you say I should've seen the other guy, yeah? Name's Nim. Do you like Derek or Wren? Or Derek Wren?"

"Anything works, but if I had my 'druthers, call me Wren." He speaks in a slow, even pace.

He gingerly holds out a hand.

Nim can tell he's in pain, but he's also doing a great job of hiding it, like he is practiced. He is also under a significant amount of stress. But interacting with him even this short amount of time, you can tell he's a good man, and honest. His motivations are not selfish or personal. Despite his pain, he hides it, and you catch frequent glances to the curtain, as if he is very aware of the others who have sustained worse wounds.

A scan with the visor reveals he's in rough shape, but has been well cared for. There's a few more things that could be done, but those are likely a lack of supplies. Given your read of him, he likely refused some aid to make sure others got it. This man is but on "others before self".

[GM Craig]

[OOC: I'm not sure if there's any specific discussions/interactions with any of the wounded you want to happen which is why I made the post pretty generic and open.]

Trax does some checking up on the droid's work, and everyone he meets is very happy to see him. In the quiet words you share over the next few minutes, you come to understand that these are salt-of-the-earth people who were driven to fight out of desperation, thinking ti would be their last fight. But somehow Derrek Wren brought them through to the other wise. They all speak glowing of Wren, whom you assume is behind the curtain.

But their eyes light up when the see you, a real-life rebel in the flesh. They seem to see it as affirmation that they are not alone in the galaxy, that the fight and sacrifices they bore were not for nothing. It's a heady responsibility, but you seem to be painted into that role whether you want it or not.

One of the patients sticks out - a woman named Martiss who lost her right arm below the elbow. She's worked the mines twenty years, and been a slave probably as long as anyone herem from before the time the Empire came in an nationalized operations. She's buried a lot of friends in those mines. But she's happy the Empire has been beaten.

You scan the medical record. She's taken severe and deep burns from a short-range plasma grenade blast. The droid only gives her 50-50 survival odds, and her condition has worsened since coming into the medical facility. Based on what you're looking at, she's probably not going to make it. She's very week, but awake and aware. The droid has her on some heavy pain meds in an attempt to keep her comfortable, but she really needs a bacta tank, and they don't have one here.

[Trax]

Trax flexed his right hand as he looked at Martiss' right arm, he knew what that felt like all too well.  He then turned to the medical report and his eyes narrowed slightly.  After reading it fully he placed the datapad down on a table beside him and began to remove his armor.

The galaxy was a hard place that offered no guarantees but something tugged at him.  After everything the woman had been through he had to, or maybe it was needed to, try to do something.  Once he'd fully removed his armor he set up what he guessed he needed and took a deep breath.

[OOC: Force point on First Aid.]

[Nim Naja]

"We brought some supplies," Nim said, sliding her shades back up and gently taking his hand in both of hers instead of simply shaking. She hoped the warmth of them would ease his suffering a little, if not in body maybe in mind. "My companions Trax and Vash are 'tending to the others. Trax in particular is far more skilled with humans than I."

[GM Craig]

The galaxy was a hard place that offered no guarantees but something tugged at him.  After everything the woman had been through he had to, or maybe it was needed to, try to do something.  Once he'd fully removed his armor he set up what he guessed he needed and took a deep breath.

[OOC: Force point on First Aid.]

Trax pulls out a medpack. This was a long shot - she'd had just about everything she could have done with a medpack done already. But he set his jaw and went to work anyway.

She feebly tries to tell you not to bother, but you ignore her and get to work anyway. You're not sure how long you work on her, but y the end your hands are cramped, and you have a band of tension running from one shoulder to the other across your back. Tired, you clean up the supplies you used, and look at her. The work was an ordeal for her as well, but she no longer seems to be strained, and is sleeping peacefully. You are gratified to find the medpack monitor reports her vital signs are stabilizing. Given what you are seeing, she should be on the road to recovery.

[It took you an hour, but you made a heroic first aid roll. She was mortally wounded, and had already had two medpacks applied, which made the DC 40, and you rolled a 42.]

[GM Craig]

"We brought some supplies," Nim said, sliding her shades back up and gently taking his hand in both of hers instead of simply shaking. She hoped the warmth of them would ease his suffering a little, if not in body maybe in mind. "My companions Trax and Vash are 'tending to the others. Trax in particular is far more skilled with humans than I."

Wren nods his thanks. "We could sure use them. We have a lot of injured. You come all the way out here to Fest on a humanitarian mission? I'm much obliged." The touch of your hands does seem to offer a measure of comfort.

[Nim Naja]

"Oh I wish. I'd have brought a lot more than a couple medpacs." Nim sighed mostly to herself, and gently set down his hand. Her tone became more serious but not alarming.

"Wren," she started, "there's no point in beating around the bush. I think you know as well as I do why we are here. Your man is back up there watching the sensors for what you believe to an incoming bombardment. Imperial retribution. They like your planetary resources, so they will come sooner or later. We are here now because my sources tell me it is sooner rather than later."

She peered at her chrono. "Much sooner. 'We need you out of this bed' sooner."

[GM Craig]

He looks suddenly tired.

"Your right, I knew it was coming. It was a matter of when, not if. When the bombardment comes, we'll retreat into the mines and try to weather the storm. We have supplies stored there - rations, plenty of fresh water. Excavation equipment to dig ourselves out if need be. Air purifiers. We can bunker down in the mines for a year if we need to. Not even the Empire can open up an entire mountain to get at us."

He pauses. "And when that happens, they'll either wheel me down with them, or leave me here. But I'm a long way from being able to walk around on my own."

[Trax]

Trax nodded very slightly in approval.  She had earned the right to enjoy her hard fought victory, and now she would be able to.  For how long was a whole other matter.  He stepped back from the bed, wiped the sweat from his brow and began trying to work out the cramps in his hand as he moved toward the curtained off area where Nim had gone.

[OOC: Would his artificial hand cramp?]