Noventa - A Star Wars Story

"Hmmm." Cal smiled. "I'll keep that in mind, Doc."

A moment passed, and with a faint wave, he saw himself out.

/fadetobacta

"If this is a strategy, it's a pretty costly one," she says, shaking her head as she keys the exam room door open for him. "Asking me over for a drink would be considerably more economical."

"I'll think about it." Cal said, smirking. "But maybe I'm just doing it for the continued pleasure of your company. Just like you use the opportunity to get my shirt off again." He gave her a sidelong glance. "Perhaps I should just invite you over more often, huh?"

Pulling his jacket over his now ruined shirt, Cal gave Yara a vague wave. "Right. Just gotta take care of a few things. But I'll be back before you know it." He rose to his feet, wincing just a little.

"Well, [i]yes[/i]," she responds, amused but halfway to rolling her eyes at him. "Patching up the same person all over again, because he hadn't the sense to stay fixed... adds a sense of futility to life that I can do without." She finishes updating his file and sets the datapad down on the counter. "In any case, as long as you come back for your swim before we lock up for the night, you're all right to go for now."

Cal gave her an incredulous look. "Do that to perfectly good bourbon? I don't think so." He grinned. "I think it's almost sacrilege to even add an ice cube."

He nodded agreement. "Yeah. Let me head back and grab a few things. Say goodnight to Demona." He paused, then gave her a smirk. "It almost sounds as though you're telling me to stay out of trouble, Doc."

"Alas that no one's ever studied the effects of pumping a shot or two into the tank to improve the flavor," she says, arching an eyebrow as she taps away at the patient file on her datapad. "Hm. Overnight, and I can discharge you early in the morning, most likely. You can clock in to work as if you'd never been gone." Her mouth quirks at the corners. "If you had a time clock at the Twelve Parsecs, at least. Though I would advise no further shootouts for at least another day after that."

"Nor will it be the last, I'm sure." Cal said, smiling, as playful as ever. "And you should say Cal. But..." He chuckled, then winced. "Remember that conversation we had last night? I guess you're not the only one who doesn't know how to quit."

Cal grimaced, shifting just a little. "Figured as much. The taste doesn't linger for just a day, either. Ah, well." His lips quirked as he looked up at her. "Well, bourbon washes away the worst of it."

"This isn't the first time I've seen you out of your shirt, Mr. Arcton, and it won't be the last," Yara chuckles, arching an eyebrow. "Or should I say 'Deputy Arcton'?" Moving Cal's duster out of the way, she'd noticed the new badge.

"Yes, I'm afraid so." She frowns at the wounds, which are cleaned up but still angry. "Better to taste bacta for a day than spend the week in a sling, mm? Particularly if there are more imps out there."

"Well, I didn't figure on you bein' able to save it. No one's [i]that[/i] good a doctor." He joked, waving his arms down at his ruined shirt.

As he lay back to do her work, though, he smirked. "I did figure on you gettin' me out of my clothes sooner or later, though." He teased.

.......................

Curiously, he moved his arm a bit, wincing. "Feels a bit better." He said, sighing. "But I'm guessing you're gonna prescribe another night in the tank?"

"Just for you," she says with a slight cheerful smirk, rubbing her hands together briskly. "I think I'd better cut you out of that shirt. It looks beyond help."

---
[url=http://orokos.com/roll/672528]D5 LA--Cure Serious Wounds on Cal (medicine, avg. difficulty)[/url]: [u]2eP+2eA+1eB+2eD[/u] [b]1 failure, 3 advantage[/b]
[url=http://orokos.com/roll/672528][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/p-a-a.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/p-s.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/a--.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/a-a.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/b-s.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/d-f-f.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/d-f.png[/img][/url]

[url=http://orokos.com/roll/672529]D5 LA--Cure Cal's crit (Easy)[/url]: [u]2eP+2eA+1eB+1eD[/u] [b]5 successes, 2 advantage[/b]
[url=http://orokos.com/roll/672529][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/p-s-s.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/p-a-a.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/a-s-s.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/a-s.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/b-a.png[/img][img]http://orokos.com/roll/images/eote/d-th.png[/img][/url]

That was some aggressive Orokos trolling, but the crit is cured and... recover some Strain? Oh well, there's always bacta. Or maybe we have extra stimpacks. Hmm.

Cal nodded. "'fraid so, Doc. Put a stop to their heist, but a few got away." He smirked. "Well, we took care of 'em once. We'll do it again if we need to."

The smirk grew as he looked at her hands. "Don't suppose that sterilizer's warm?"

(2/14, crit 15)

"Stormtroopers? Here?" The doctor doesn't break the stride of running her hands under the sterilizer and pulling on gloves, but she does look alarmed. "So it's true, then?"

((Which crit/how many wounds?))

"Decent as ever." Cal answered, smirking, as the door opened.

He looked down at himself. He'd removed his duster, which made the blaster wounds all that more obvious, burns and dried blood having thoroughly ruined his white dress shirt. One injury was solidly in the shoulder. The other was down lower on his chest, just barely catching the ribs before they gave way to stomach.

He started to shrug, stopped, waggled his head instead. "The usual. Righting wrongs, general do-gooding." He sighed. "Rushed some stormies in a good position. Thought I could make it to cover in time. I swear, they never used to aim this well before."

After a few short minutes, there's a tap on the door. A muffled female voice asks, "Are you decent?" and then the door slides open without really leaving time for a response. "Good galaxies, Cal, what was it this time?"

Cal gave the droid a vague wave. "Hey, RC. Yeah, I know the way. Exam Room One, huh?" He chuckled. "I must look pretty bad."

He shuffled off down the hall, as he'd done any number of times before, to the all too familiar exam room.

With a metallic creaking, an older-model protocol droid appears from the doorway behind the reception desk. It's painted white, of course, with slightly scratched red trim. "Greetings, Patient! Do you have a--oh, my!" The lights within its optical sensors flicker, giving the air of a droid double-take. "Master Arcton, are you capable of locomotion? Dr. Suhr will see you in Exam Room One. I'm sure you know the way."

It was on steady legs that Cal walked into the waiting room of the clinic. Steady, but perhaps a little stiff. Cal had discovered that his blaster wounds didn't hurt if he moved as little as possible.

Still wearing his duster and hat, smelling noticeably of smoke, he made his way over to the counter. Reaching out, he... realized that he'd just broken his rule on moving as little as possible. "Yeah, I'll be feeling that in the morning." He muttered as he awkwardly managed to ring the counter bell.