RPlog:It's Just a Flesh Wound

Characters: Lanil, Lynae

Date: March 14, 2006

Overview: Lanil comes to terms with his injury

Orlop Deck - ICC Dauntless

The lowest deck in the Dauntless, the orlop deck, is home to the ship's stores and magazine at the fore, as well as the surgeon's cockpit and berths for the surgeon's mates to the aft. Because of its proximity to the docking racks on the ship's keel, the surgeon's cockpit is intentionally one of the first compartments one passes as one arrives from the airlocks to the shuttlecraft. The walls of this deck are slightly damp due to condensation from the ship's atmosphere processor, and are painted blue to calm the injured.

The commissary is also here, located at the entrance to the Dauntless' stores, where the purser's mates can keep a close eye on the state of her supplies.

-=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => OneBee Medical Droid <68-1BK> -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Lynae

=> Maris

-	Taking off the surgical cap and crumpling it in one hand, Lynae stands at the end of the biobed on which Lanil is sleeping, having been sedated for the duration of the repair work. She scans the biomedical chart with slightly narrowed eyes, reviewing his current stats and biosigns before replacing the chart in its holder at the end of the bed. The quiet whirring and beeping of monitoring equipment creates the quiet background that Lynae moves in and around, the sound that she lives and breathes in for the majority of her life. Resting one hand on Lanil's shoulder she stands there for a brief moment before taking a chair at the side of his bed.

Lanil flutters his eyes for a second, then comes to, "Admiral?...Lyn...? Wha....What happen---ow!!" He winces as his left leg moves slightly, and he realizes that the blast must have done more damage than he thought. Looking around, he spots Lynae, "Lyn, what happened? Last thing I remember is the explosion and my getting shot trying to protect the Admiral." -	Crumpling the surgical cap into a wrinkled mess in her left hand, Lynae lifts her head slightly and meets Lanil's gaze with her own. "Which question would you like answered first?" she responds quietly, her tone of voice calmly measured as she speaks. "In reverse order, perhaps?" she inquires, one eyebrow arching ever so slightly as she speaks. "And stop thrashing around, you'll tear open all those stitches," she adds, placing her free hand on Lanil's shoulder again and giving him a warning look. "You got hit by one of those blaster bolts being shot by those two deranged madmen attempting to kill the Admiral. Skipping ahead a bit, the Admiral is fine. A minor scalp wound, it bled a lot, but he's fine. The terrorists are dead. That big armored body guard of the Admiral's actually proved useful. I'm moderately impressed," she mutters. Blinking a few times as she organizes her thought, describing the blaster wound and what was necessary to repair it before leading into the post-wound treatment. "In all likelihood you're going to have some serious scar tissue. Now, I can prevent infection and further damage with careful observation, but you'll need physical therapy or you'll have a limp for the rest of your life. And a scar that's going to show next time you decide to show the youngens how to swim while carrying a full combat backpack."

Lanil chuckles, nodding, "Aye, that may draw some eyes at the pool, but if they're on their toes they won't eyeball me to begin with, now will they?" He pauses, perhaps coming to terms with his injury, then continues, "So, now that I know the Admiral is fine, how are you my dear? When that explosion went off, and I didn't see you anywhere, my world basically stopped, I kid you not."

-	"Me?" Lynae asks in return, a quizzical look on her face before she shakes her head slowly, "I wasn't in any appreciable danger, Lanil. No more than normal, that is. I wasn't the target of the blaster shots being fired, and my every instinct was to get to the Admiral and provide further shielding for him, if possible." She smiles faintly, a look of chagrin on her face, "I didn't occur to me, w hen I was dressing for this fete, that wearing body armor would've been a good move."

Lanil chuckles, "Perhaps I should have been more perceptive when you mentioned something about a security risk with all the uniforms about. I TOLD you you should have worn the dress."

-	Lynae levels a long look at Lanil and responds in a low tone, "Absolutely not. Completely inappropriate. Plus," she adds, still glowering at Lanil, "there is absolutely no way I could've worn body armor under a dress. The art of concealed carry is a difficult one, in the best of situations. You cannot wear a thigh holster without earning a raw chafing blister the next day. An ankle holster makes you walk like a duck with a diaper on. And forget about getting a knife of any kind without flashing the entire room. No way, in the name of all that is logical in this universe, would I wear a gown to such an event when the majority of the higher ranking officers of the current task force are all in one room. Talk about a big, huge, shoot me now target!"

Lanil nods, "You're right, as always. If I were an operative, I would wonder about the dress amid the sea of uniforms myself." He pauses, seeming a bit hesitant to speak, "Lyn, I'm not wanting to upset you, but I have some rather...disturbing news."

-	Lynae tilts her head slightly and surveys Lanil with a long, quizzical, look. "What sort of disturbing news?" she asks quietly, one hand absently smoothing down her hair where it was covered by the surgical cap. "And I'm just not a dress sort of woman, Lanil. I'm not comfortable in one."

Lanil sighs for a moment, then speaks, "Well they're just rumors at the moment, but I've heard some reports that Yoseph is MIA and presumed dead, some even indicate he /IS/ KIA. Again, they're just rumors at the moment, but still I thought you'd like to know."

-	Lynae stiffens noticably, her hands clasping together in her lap and her breath escaping her in a silent hiss of sound. She barely blinks, her face turning even more pale, her lips barely moving as she forces out the words, "Where did you pick up these rumors?"

Lanil looks at Lynae with a completly serious expression on his face, "Lyn, I am ISB, and former Bureau of Operations, I have my contacts."

-	"He is not dead," Lynae responds in an emotionless voice. "I would know." Her gaze remains riveted on Lanil's as she speaks. "I would know, Lanil. He is just taking some personal time. He's not MIA." Even as she says the words, it's evident that she's trying to persuade Lanil as much as she's trying to believe it herself.

Lanil throws up his hands, "Fair enough; Anyways like I said, they're just rumors."

-	"Rumors they are, aye," Lynae says softly, bending a bit and not looking quite as shaken. "But certainly you can weight the validity of these sources. I should," she pauses, biting her lower lip, an old and mostly unused habit, "I should talk to the Admiral."

Lanil reaches out, touching Lyn's forearm, "We both should talk to him. Besides, I have some other issues to bring to his attention." He smiles, continuing, "Roj is my friend too, Lyn, and it's gonna take more than my realization of my feelings for you to cause me to turn my back on him."

-	"Ahh, yes. We should, at that. After the Selene Days celebration," Lynae adds though, shaking her head slowly and trying to organize her thoughts. "Until I have proof to the contrary, I must believe that he is taking personal time, Lanil. I have to believe that. Because anything else is to believe that he's left the Empire. And me, " she breathes quietly, "and I'm not ready for that."

Lanil nods, "None of us are. Reneging on his vows to you would be bad enough, but the Empire too? That would be one investigation I would hate to be forced to carry out...and this from the man who turned in his own mother for disloyalty."

-	"In some ways he's not quite cut out for this life, you know," Lynae quietly replies. "His sense of personal honor creeps up on him and makes him question the way of things. He should have been some sort of knight of old, Lanil. Rescuing damsels in distress. Fighting the big bad monster of the village."

Lanil nods, "As bureacratic as it was, and mind you I lived under it for most of my childhood, Yoseph would have been the perfect fit in the Old Republic...especially the Old Republic of millenia ago."

-	"He's a classic archetype," Lynae says with a bit of disgruntlement in her tone of voice. "Forever trying to find ways to make me .. softer. Nicer. Two words that will never describe my wardrobe: Pink and frilly. And the man is forever determined to keep me from getting my hands bloody. For the love of what's logical in this universe, I'm not a flower gathering dander headed maiden! I'm a soldier. An officer. A doctor, scientist, and a damned efficient executioner when required. He should've picked some soft civilian to wed if that's what he needs to do to feel like a man." Lynae exhales loudly, her expression briefly startled as she lets that just slip out in frustration.

Lanil chuckles, "That only begs the question of why did he choose you in the first place? Did he see something in you?"

-	Lynae gives Lanil one of those long looks again, "Which only begs the question, what do You see?"

Lanil shrugs, "I see who you are as you, whatever that is, and whatever it may become."

-	Nodding slowly in reply, Lynae rubs her hands together, massaging the stiff knuckles as she speaks, "That's something that Yose may never simply see." She rises then, resting a hand on Lanil's shoulder, "Now, go back to sleep. I'll be here, keeping an eye on you. And don't you -ever- do that again," she admonishes in a low voice. "Seeing you all seeping blood absolutely infuriated me. Don't do that again!"

Lanil closes his eyes and tries to go to sleep, "Wy doctor, is that affection I sense?"

-	Lynae makes a smothered sound of laughter, "We'll see."