Log:First Order: Was it something I said?
First Order: Was it something I said?
OOC Date: 27 March, 2016
Location: Medical Bay - RSD Finalizer
Participants: PR-3742, Dozer, FZ-4792, First Order
The medical facilities on the Star Destroyer have undergone a bit of reconstruction to better suit the needs of the medical staff and patients. Now 'L' shaped due to the building of a dedicated medical office, laboratory as well as an isolation chamber built off to the right side, the central part of the medical bay houses 6 medical biobeds, each separated by a curtain for privacy. The far back wall of the bend houses an operating triage as well as the bacta tanks. Simple things such as broken bones might be seen on the ship as injury and illnesses to the crew can be easily be treated. Of course, severe injuries would be sent planetside. The room is pristine white and very well ordered.
Ambling into the Medbay and glaring away the first navy yoeman that approached her with a perky 'Do you require medical assistance' attitude, DZ-1141 holds up one hand, palm facing the yoeman. "Status undamaged, where's PR-3742 being contained?" she inquires, making it clear that she doesn't believe for even a skinny second that Pyre is resting quietly or without argument. The smile on the yoeman's face goes a little brittle, more of a grimace, before she points in the right direction and moves way to help out the next person who walks through the door. DZ-1141's expression takes on a bit of a smirk as she follows the directions and scouts out the terrain, that is - where Pyre is being held for observation - and glances left, right, then heads forward to rap her knuckles against the end of the bed frame, "Lying down on the job, again. Old age must really be getting to you."
PR-3742, call sign Pyre... he had lived up to that name in the tunnels far below Felucia, his flamethrower leading the way toward their victory and even survival in the strange chamber beside that glowing river. That had come at a price, however, as the beasts drawn by the light and made almost rabid by the flames targeted him in the last attack above all others. Claws had torn his armor, rending through the breastplate with a strength that is almost beyond belief given the beating that armor can normally take. Once breaking through the armor, they had had a field day with his chest, slicing through pectoral, and scratching bone like butter, even breaking three of the ribs along his right side. He had lost a lot of blood by the time the troops had made it back aboard the Finalizer, the warm liquid running down the inside of his armor and pooling in his boot, and had almost collapsed despite his stubborn will to carry on. Having spent the night in the bacta tank, he is now assigned to a comfortable bed in the medical bay while waiting for the results of his wounds to materialize. True to Dozer's assumptions, thick leather restraints bind his hands to the railing of the bed, his feet to the posts as the large man makes the bed look ridiculously tiny. The look he flashes Dozer in reply is not amused.
Exhaling a healthy snicker, DZ-1141 prowls around the bed that Pyre is restraining in, "You know, if you'd just let the medical personnel do their jobs you'd be out of here a lot faster. And," she flicks the tips of her fingers at his left ankle, "they wouldn't have to enhance your care with these restraints." The smirk remains firmly in place as she glances left then right again, "I don't see any dragons in the immediate vicinity," in a low voice as she pulls a sealed cylinder from one pocket and displays the cigar that she smuggled in for him, "I believe this is raided from your stash from the last time we served together."
Growling as she makes the suggestion that it is his own fault for being restrained, Pyre jerks angrily at the wrist restraints, the shackles squealing in protest as the large man's biceps flex and cord, making one wonder if he is really /that/ restrained. "If they had just let me get back to my unit, we wouldn't be having this discussion," he grumps. "I am perfectly capable of bringing my ass back here if they decide I have contracted some terrible virus from those fucking birds." His eyes narrow, and then widen in surprise your fingers trail across his bare ankle, and then pull that slender tube from within her pocket. "You didn't," he says.
"Oh bullshit, you and I both know that you won't come back in if you're sick, you'll try to tough it out even if it means that you're contaminated by some sort of bizarre avian flu that gives you a rash, bleeding sores and hallucinations. They just don't want to try to strap you to a board and haul your huge ass through the ship," she counters with a snicker of amusement. The smirk is aimed at Pyre again as Dozer winks, "Damn right I did," she wiggles the cigar cylinder slightly from side to side in her fingertips. "Remember that time you thought your stash had been confiscated by one of the duty officers as contraband?" she prompts, eyebrows arching faintly. "You were all pissed off and in a stomp smash mode about it?"
Pyre begins to reach for the cigar, only to be stopped by the manacle that binds him. He growls loudly and pulls at the restraint, the leather squeaking against his wrist, and the other end squealing mightily to contain the man. The muscles along his arm stand out in sharp relief as he struggles, his teeth bared and the railing of the bed bending with the effort to contain. Finally with a growl and panting breath, the large flametrooper falls back against the pillow with a sigh of frustration. He shakes his head and says, "Yeah, I remember. I was ready to kill whoever ratted me out."
Standing patiently while Pyre tries to defy the load bearing strength of the railing and the tensile strength of the restraints, waiting it out until he flops back on the bed again. "I didn't rat you out," she notes, just to clarify. "I did, however, raid your stash before the duty officer came through and started confiscating what everyone had hidden every damn where. I even went with you when you picked up replacements and found a new hiding place for your stash." Dozer gives a smirk that is paired with a grin, "So, to be fair, I saved your stash."
Nodding his head, Pyre grumbles, "Yeah, I remember." He blows out a sigh and leans back into the pillows. He gestures with his head toward the slight space beside his thigh and says, "Sit, if you want." His eyes survey the woman for a moment before he says, "What have you thought since returning from the mission? I dare say you saw what we saw and don't have any opinions or a thought about it."
Dozer glances left, then right, before back again to Pyre, "Give me your word that you won't try to pull some great escape and I'll untie your hands and lower the railing so I can sit on the edge of the bed," she makes this offer as she pockets the cigar cylinder again. "As to what I've thought, be a little more specific. Are we talking about the flying oversized bats, the glowing cave of wonder and it's map and fancy drawings on the wall, the unit cohesion in general or something else? I did do a detailed analysis of the images, complete with measurements and proximity ratio to the map. Who knows if the position of the stuff on the walls is some how a key to something that we need for the map?"
Pyre considers this for a moment, his brow lowering as he weighs his options. "Counter. I will not escape while you are here, but if you leave me untied when you leave I might slip out a few hours later." This concept is somewhat laughable, a man as big as he is won't be doing much sneaking. In any event he nods and holds his arm out to you. As for the last bit regarding her thoughts, he simply says, "Yes," indicating all of the above before he says, "The star map was a surprise. What has been bugging me all day is that it took all of us and we barely made it past those fucking birds. Skywalker was in there completely alone. There were no other bodies laying around that I saw, no sign of combat... how does a man simply walk in and out?"
"Hmm," comes from Dozer as she accepts his counter offer and unfastens first his left wrist, then right, and lowers the railing from the left side of the bed before taking a seat on the edge. "Maybe he trained those things as pets, like guard dogs, just. . with wings. Who knows. It's not entirely unthinkable that he could have trained those things, somehow. I can't think of anything else that makes sense."
Pyre shakes his head slowly and says, "That has been bothering me since we finally killed the last of those beasts. How long would it have taken him to train that whole brood? Has he really been here that long and then just conveniently left when we arrived?" He blows out a sigh as Dozer takes a seat on his on his bed, his calf resting against her lower back.
"Was he really there, though? I mean, are we certain it was really him, not just some decoy?" DZ-1141 wonders, healthy suspicion sounding in her tone of voice. "Could be someone that looks like what the target is supposed to look like. For all we know he has decoys scattered all around on various planets, all shopping in bulk from the same 'Cloak's-r-Us' outfitter. And why would he leave a map behind, who leave a map behind if they already know where they going. And if he didn't leave the map behind on purpose, then who put the map there in the first place. Follow that with why did he need to go there to see the map himself. IF he'd been there before to train those bloody things. And, while we're on topic, if he's the one who left eh map, and the trained critters, was it some sort of 'fight you way to the clue, duel to the death' sort of challenge and who would the challenge be left for. AND what sort of sick twisted sadistic mind puts that kind of challenge together in the first place." After rattling off these questions she aims a look at Pyre, "So, no, I haven't really been wondering about it at all."
Listening as Dozer rattles off her list of concerns with the topic on hand, Pyre snorts and says grumpily, "That's why I think that it is much more likely that he came here to look at that map and just knew how to bypass those animals. And I suppose that he didn't take the map with him when he left because the map was made into the room. Did you see how when Hammer pushed the button the lichen glowed brighter and the lichen made the star map from the light it sent off? He couldn't have taken it with him without destroying that shrine or whatever it was." His eyes gaze down at the floor beside his bed and then he snorts and says, "And as for if it was really him or not, the x-wing flew out of that cave and disabled Fuze like it was nothing. We /are/ talking about the man that destroyed the Death Star, you know."
"Yeah, thirty years ago, give or take," Dozer argues in return. "Old age isn't kind to everyone, special snowflake or not, Pyre. So how do we know it really was the person that we're supposed to be keeping all of our eyes, optical appendages, sensor feeds, etc. peeled for. That," and she pauses to smirk, "and you used the word 'lichen' in a sentence, and used it correctly, more than once. You finally breaking down and using that word of the day program I gave you?" clearly yanking Pyre's chain, since there isn't a lot he can do about it at this exact moment.
Pyre's eyes narrow dangerously as he looks at Dozer and he says wryly, "Take it while you can. Some day they WILL let me out of this bed." He shakes his head and can only shrug his shoulders as he says, "Well, apparently the source confirmed it as Luke Skywalker, and that is why our orders have us on this chase. It does seem like it fits, in a way. We know that there is something special about this Skywalker fellow. We arrive and he shoots down our best pilot without even trying, and then we find some kind of magic shrine?"
"Delusional," DZ-1141 replies, eyes rolled briefly toward the ceiling, "they're never letting you out of this bed, old man. Eventually they're just gonna put you out to pasture!" she shares a cheeky grin before she sobers with a shrug of her own. "Anything with the word 'shrine' in it is subject to a serious logic check, Pyre. Magic is so far above my pay grade," she shrugs, again. "I am not required to believe in magic, nor am I required to believe that this individual is who he is supposed to be. My job is to facilitate the acquisition of intel leading to the acquisition of the target Or data that leads to same. How the mission is accomplished, that's the job all of us are doing. That's the mission. I don't have to believe in magic or special snowflake taming giant bat powers to do my job."
The door hisses open to admit FZ-4792. She steps inside, and her gaze washes towards the two Stormtroopers, but a medical droid approaches her and she turns her attention to it. "FZ-4792, reporting for a post-bacta checkup," she says briskly. "You had me in here a week ago." The droid beeps as it accesses her files, and she waits patiently, her gaze returning to the two Stormtroopers. She says nothing, though.
Pyre is about to reply to Dozer before the door of the medical bay hisses open and his eyes swivel in that direction. As Fuze enters, his eyes regard her with an intense stare from where he sits, dwarfing a medical bed. He holds that stare for a long, hard moment before finally looking back to Dozer and shrugging his shoulders saying, "Well in any case, that's who we're after, and I would say that there's as good of a chance as any that if we can break down whatever that star map shows that we will have a better than random guess at where he went."
"Unless that map came with reference points, a handy dandy legend, and a 'YOU ARE HERE' icon, then it's still just a component of the puzzle, not a solution," Dozer argues in return before looking up at the sound of a new arrival. She looks back to Pyre as she sees the way his expression changes then back to FZ-4792 and seems to be thinking intently for a moment, sorting names and call signs before a quiet "Ah hah," is uttered. "You're the TIE pilot that saved our collective asses last night, right? Fuze?"
"Yes, I'm Fuze," FZ-4792 agrees quietly. She regards Dozer and Pyre together, perhaps classing them as part of the same whole, which in a way they are. "I don't know about saving your collective asses. I just got payback on one of the winged things, but your flametroopers seemed to have gotten things under control." She shrugs, and takes a seat in the waiting area as indicated by the medical droid, who must be backed up today. "When do we drop a bomb down that hole and obliterate it, lest the Resistance get there and find out whatever we found?" She has a point.
Pyre turns a gaze back on Fuze and says, "Flametrooper. I was the only one slinging fire down there." He considers the woman for a moment though, understanding that the fact she missed an obvious moment to make a jab about how TIE pilots are superior to Groundpounders, or that she had to save their asses again. His eyebrow furrows at this, though he doesn't comment as he considers Fuze's question and says, "Do you have an intel on that? Surely they are going to close the cave before we move away from this fucking planet."
DZ-1141 shakes her head at Fuze, "You shot down enough of those damned things to turn the tide. I call that a collective save," aiming a grin at Fuze. "I'm Dozer, by the way. Nice to meet you," she glances at Pyre and nods before altering the question to: "When are we going to let the Resistance know where the cave is so that we can bottleneck as many of them as we can in the cave then drop a load of explosive ordinance into the cave and watch it go boom, and collapse, and snuff out those happy little bright lives all at the same time? Never waste ammo or a perfectly good lure."
"No intel. Just what I'd do if I was in charge. Although I like your idea, Dozer. Remind me to tell you about the time I dropped enough fire into a cave entrance to collapse half the mountainside on a bunch of Resistance scum," she says, something of her cocky nature reasserting itself, although a shadow flickers behind her eyes as she says the words. "I don't think they ever dug themselves out."
Pyre's eyes gaze at Fuze from where he sits with a bit of a suspicious or possibly a knowing quality on his features. His eyes glance down to his large hands that should even now be restrained by the leather manacles that hang from the side bars of the bed like his feet are and he nods to himself as if confirming something in his mind. "I would imagine the Resistance don't know where we are. If that star map is what we have been hanging around for, I would think we would be getting off of this planet soon."
"Good," Dozer remarks with a measured nod aimed at Fuze. "The more of them we get rid of the less of them remain around to be obnoxious with their continued, plucky, determination. If the cave in didn't kill them, or the fire didn't roast them, or the lack of oxygen, air, water, etcetera, and they didn't manage to climb out? All the better," she smiles, a brief curve of her lips, "and a job well done." She turns back toward Pyre as he speaks, "I imagine that if we're here much longer, someone will tell someone and gossip will spread faster than a two credit whore at a brothel. So, yeah, probably soon, but hopefully we have time to use the bait and destroy the map before we depart."
FZ-4792 smiles at Dozer's words and at the woman herself. "Oh, believe me, I'd like to line them up and execute them one at a time, looking into their eyes, but it'd take too long," she states cheerfully. She's not joking, though. Then her gaze shifts to Pyre, and that smile dies in her eyes. "You were hurt," she states, expressing the obvious. "One of the winged creatures?" Her lips are pursed, and she's searching his expression. At any moment she might cross the line.
Pyre nods toward Dozer, and then as Fuze addresses him, the man that makes that hospital bed look far too tiny turns his head to examine the pilot. Finally he nods his head and says, "Yes. Two of our Troops were put down by the screeching noises the birds made. They were diving in for us and I stepped up and started setting them on fire. Two turned and fled when the flames ate at them, one I dodged, and the other ripped through my chest plate and started to carry me off. Broke a few of my ribs and slashed me open pretty badly." His tone is that of a man that is expecting a turn for the worst in the conversation and is mentally preparing himself.
"So was Foil, I believe," DZ-1141 notes, having turned slightly to face Pyre again as he'd replied to Fuze's question. "And our helmets should have better shielding against decibel assaults like that," making it a grumble of sound. "Those damned things were trying to carry the two of you off, like trophies. Or possible snacks. Good grief, think there's a nest in there that they carry food too? I bet if we go back and search long enough we'd find a whole pile of bones and gear and armor from anyone foolish enough to wander into that place over who knows how long. Carnivorous bastards," said with a brief shake of her head. She nudges Pyre with one elbow, "You're almost ranking up with me on combat scars. I still win, though," she flexes her right hand, the mottled scar tissue flexes subtly but with obvious stiffness still.
"Shit, PR-3742, if I'd thought you wanted to fly that badly I would have taken you up in a transport. Something big enough for both your body and your ego," Fuze says dryly, a taunting edge in her tone. Her gaze flickers to Dozer and she gives a quiet nod; there's respect there, but it seems she can't resist baiting Pyre.
Offering a snort of amusement, Pyre almost seems like he will consent to laugh along with Fuze's joke at his expense. "Well, I might have taken you up on that... except that I saw you lock up down there in those caves," he says, his voice changing to a humorless thing as he glances the Pilot over. "The mighty Fuze... afraid. Scared motionless, for that matter. Who would have ever thought?" The big man crosses his arms across his chest, hands that should be restrained, but aren't. His feet are though, so he is at least somewhat handicapped should Fuze decide to throw herself on him.
DZ-1141 glances from Pyre to Fuze then... ever so slowly ... back again. "Damn," she says in a surprised tone of voice. "Good on you, Pyre, it's about time you find someone to hook up with. I didn't know you were seeing someone," she slugs Pyre lightly in the shoulder, "You could've told me," she turns and smiles at Fuze. "I've known him for years, and he never tells me anything!" She slides off the edge of the bed and extends a hand toward Fuze, "Seriously, all around, nice to meet you. I have TONS of material you can use, just so you know, I know all of his quirks and twitches."
FZ-4792 was rolling just fine, her jaw tightening at Pyre's words as she makes ready to reply with some snappy comback line, probably something along the line of Pyre's family heritage. But then Dozer speaks, and Fuze's mouth falls open at the trooper's words. For a moment she's actually speechless, an inarticulate choking cough emerging. Then she turns rapidly beetroot red, the blush rushing up from her chest to her neck and cheeks and primarily her ears. "I am NOT hooked up with PR-3742!" she denies indignantly. "I'd rather feed myself to a Rancor than 'hook up' with that windbag!"
Pyre's eyes widen a bit at Dozer's comment, but as he sees Fuze's reaction, he cannot help but lean back into his pillows. His arms come up and rest atop his shaved head and he watches that flush creep over the TIE pilot. "Fuze," he says in a soothing voice. "It's okay. She knows. Everyone knows. That time you came to me in that closet outside the barracks. I tried to tell you it wasn't a good idea, but you just wouldn't listen."
DZ-1141 continues to extend her hand toward Fuze for a moment before she drops her hand to her side again, hooking both hands into her front pockets as she glances from Fuze to Pyre then back again. She studies the pilot, seeing the intense red that has climbed upward to the point that even Fuze's ears are red. "Dude, not cool," she chastises Pyre and reaches out to swat the top of his shaved head. "You don't embarrass your woman in front of someone she doesn't even know yet." She turns back to Fuze, "Honestly, it's cool. I can tell you every stupid thing he's ever done, I have enough blackmail material on hand to make him actually shut up before he can come up with another so called witty remark," she reaches out and pats Fuze on the shoulder, "this is going to be fun. So nice to meet you!"
Fuze jerks at the pat on the shoulder like she'd been stung, and it's probably safe to say that she's not about to be shaking hands with Dozer anytime soon. The blush deepens, and she glowers at the pair of them, rising to her feet and clenching her fists. She's saved only by the medical droid that appears, chirping "Ah, FZ-4792. Accompany me, please." Quite apoplectic with burning anger, Fuze stomps off under her orders, although not without a muttered obscenity directed at the pair of them, poor Dozer being mostly innocent in this affair.
Pyre grins as Fuze's blush deepens and as she begins to turn to stomp off, he calls out, "I'll come see you just as soon as they let me out of here, baby." And with that he leans back into his medical bed, the forced stay in the Medical Bay suddenly not seeming as bad as it had been an hour or two earlier.
Watching as Fuze stomps off, following the droid, DZ-1141 turns back to Pyre and sees the smug look on his face. "Was it something I said?" she wonders, a perplexed frown on her face. "Man, you are going to so have to apologize to your woman, she's pissed. What the hell did you do this time?" obviously blaming Pyre, clearly having known him for long enough to have made a logical assumption as to the ownership of guilt.
