Log:Hutt Cartel: Elbow Deep in Organs

Hutt Cartel: Elbow Deep in Organs

OOC Date: January 29 2020
Location: Nar Shaddaa
Participants: Mak the Hutt, Ayeeou Wanaii, Lefty

"Gack! DagggggNABBIT!"

It's not often that a Hutt finds himself in need of a stretcher, but if one is ever in the mood to suffer a pretty serious injury he couldn't pick a better spot than in the Hutt Cartel's Nar Shaddaa headquarters. After all, they have stretchers in exactly the right size.

Well, not so much a 'stretcher', more of a loading platform powered by extremely strong hover engines.

It's this exact type of gunmetal gray slab that's being pushed through the massive hallways toward a room that is apparently going to serve as a trauma center. Normally they'd probably use the Pleasure Chamber, the Bathhouse, or the Meditation Room, but all of those rooms are either in the middle of being repainted, or are currently plastered with decor that the Injured Hutt in Question finds personally repulsive.

The Injured Hutt is, after all, a man of frugal, austere tastes.

"Quit BUMPIN' me, Lefty! When I get offa this stretcher I'm gonna have yer hide TANNED!" The Hutt has one of his pudgy hands balled up into a fist, which he's brandishing around aggressively at the servants who are merely trying to push a ton (and some change) of blubbery hamburger meat down a hallway on an industrial loading platform.

The shouts and curses of the Hutt can be heard throughout the headquarters, even down in the foyer where one of the Majordomo's is currently escorting in the Highest Recommended Doctor who is Still Alive After the Shootout. A tall, bald fellow with a sickly expression, the Majordomo ushers the doctor in past security, and offering to provide her with whatever chemical stimulants she might need to steady her hand and/or take the edge off.

Hutt Cartel medical care is mostly just taking drugs, after all.

This is different. Ayeeou Wanaii doesn't usually get a call from this part of Nar Shaddaa. But she did, and so she went by arranged shuttle. It's also not her usual species of clientele, but then it's probably not all that many physicians who have the... opportunity to treat a Hutt. Yes, let's go with 'opportunity'.

She'd seen the news of course, and there had been an uptick in the sort of patients who don't like too many questions (granted, it's Nar Shaddaa. There are a lot of those), but her clinic is very understanding of that sort of thing. Though, there were some worried looks when Yee packed her bag for this particular trip. It's not the sort of attention most sane, non-spiced people want, after all. Whatever trepidation the Nautolan had though, she kept to herself.

Once arrived, and escorted by the Majordomo, Ayeeou is on the quiet side. She just looks and listens, and her eyebrow ridge rises a little at the shouts and curses that only increase in volume as they approach. And while it's certainly possible that the offer of chemicals is tempting, she politely declines. She does seem the sort to refrain from that sort of thing. Maybe offer again later though, once she's done.

"Oh, he's been terribly fussy today. Raising such a dreadful ruckus... so I assume he must be in quite a fair amount of pain." The sickly looking Majordomo guides the doctor toward the Operating Theater, which is currently a flurry of activity. After all, they've had to set up equipment from the hospital in a very short period of time, as it's not yet safe for Mak to try and leave the building.

"I... er... of course can't confirm the severity of his wounds. With Hutts there's a quite a bit of... tissue. But I hardly need to tell you that, Doctor of your caliber. I'm sure you'll be able to locate the wound quickly and, without too much digging."

The room is being set up by a combination of droids and involuntary laborers, both working frantically to set up the motley assortment of equipment. It's clear that most of them don't actually know what most of this stuff is that they're setting up, but it was on the list they were given, so here it is.

"Dadburn it, Lefty! Why ain't ya brung me any BOOZE yet? Can't you see I'm HURTIN'!?" Lying on the slab, an enormous, reddish brown Hutt is clutching roughly where an 'abdomen' would be on most creatures. He's still wearing the bandana around his neck, and his trusty hat is being used as a pillow. Unfortunately, they had to cut off his leather bandolier and hide his blaster from him.

Oh, good. A Hutt in a fair amount of pain. That's what a young doctor out of her element wants to hear. Aren't the Hutts where the drugs come from? It's hard to tell what's really going through the Nautolan's mind though, though there's obviously a lot of activity in there. She just nods to the Majordomo as they arrive at the makeshift theater, and then looks slowly around the place to maybe get some sense of what she's in for.

"I will certainly do my best." Ayeeou says then, trying to re-assure... maybe both of them given a little unevenness in her voice. "Once I do a scan, I'll have some idea where to start." But, before that can happen, apparently a few things need to be repositioned. She takes a moment to center herself... a little, that also doubles as absorbing more about the room, then she does her best to focus on the task at hand. "On the plus side, if it were worse, he would probably be less..." safe word... safe word... safe word... "vocal."

With that, she steps up and starts to direct the laborers and droids as to where some of the equipment should be as opposed to where it is. Apparently, she's trusting that her authority on this particular matter will be re-enforced by her escort. Then, she finally has to focus her attention on her patient. "Sir. I am Doctor Ayeeou Wanaii. I will be attending you." At least she doesn't look revulsed. There's lots of sentients of all appearances, after all.

The Majordomo makes a show of ordering around a few of the droids and involuntary laborers, but dips out the first opportunity he gets in order to 'leave her to it.' It's hard to blame the nameless guy though, as a makeshift Hutt Trauma Center is nobody's idea of a good time. Well, okay, maybe not nobody, but it's a statistically insignificant portion of the population, for sure.

One of the involuntary laborers that actually seems to WANT to be here is a green-skinned Twi'lek male who looks as if his main job descriptions are working out and oiling himself up. Notably, he's missing his left lekku, with old scarring around the wound that looks suspiciously like bitemarkes. But Lefty the One-Lekkued Twi'lek Dude isn't focused on his own personal trauma at the minute, instead tending to the needs of the Hutt who's lying belly up on a cold metal slab.

The Hutt lifts his... uh... head mantle thing... up and peers at the doctor with bulbous, yellow, bloodshot eyes. He definitely looks a bit concerned as he looks the doctor over, his tongue dangling limply on his nonexistent chin and drool dribbling so profusely that it's soaking through his bandana.

"Yeah... you look about like the kinda doctor I'd get... what are you, a hunnert? A hunnert and fifty?"

Lefty squeezes the Hutt's hand, and mutters something about not being rude to the person who's about to perform surgery.

It's a fair bet this is not Ayeeou's idea of a good time, but once she gets to work she's a professional. That will have to do. She watches the Majordomo slip out, then focuses again on the task at hand. Just in time to be asked her age, and no one wants her answering that question. She is, after all, far, far younger than either of those numbers. Her huge black eyes widen even further for a moment, then she says only "I'm not, sir. But I do have significant experience treating non-humanoids." Or something.

She manages a smile for both the Hutt and his Twi'lek Dude, the sets about turning on the equipment and prepping the scanner. "Tell me exactly what happened please, so I better understand what comes up in the scan?" That question seems for anyone able to give her the details, in case the Hutt isn't feeling chatty.

"OooAUGH! They GOT me Doc! They GOT me right in my organs! My insides are on FIRE! Ooooooo... I been divorced FORTY SIX TIMES, and I've never felt no pain inside THIS bad..."

Still clutching at his abdomen, the Hutt writhes in pain, wobbling side to side and squirming. His face is all squinched up into a horrible grimace, as he gives her lots of detail about how he's feeling, while simultanously giving her nothing useful.

Fortunetly, Lefty is there to answer her.

"He was shot with a blaster, EE-11, we think, though it might have been an EE-3. Based on the amount of carbon scoring around the wound site, I'd say it was the 11, but those usually don't have enough stopping power to get through Mak's OUTER blubber layer, let alone the two internal blubber layers. This one... it... uh... went through all three. I tried to reach my hand in there, and I'm pretty sure I touched one of his livers."

Cringing at the memory, the Hutt looks up at the ceiling, still writhing in pain. "He was ELBOW DEEP in my organs, Doc! Be honest wit' me... will I need surgery?"

Ayeeou can't help herself. The comment about being divorced forty-six times causes her to blink. More than once. Is it the divorces? Is it that forty-six beings married the Hutt? A show of wisdom and self-control keeps her trap shut. All she does is finally nod slowly, and reach over to flip on the scanner as Mak gives details that don't so much help.

Thank goodness for Lefty. As the machine does its work, she can focus on his explanation of what actually happened. She doesn't look completely befuddled about the weaponry, but this is Nar. She probably sees a lot of blaster wounds and has had to research them.

Her small lips purse, both at his explanation and as the scanner starts to feel her information. "Hmmm." she says, drawing out the mm a little. "Yes. Yes, you will." She goes into her pack, and pulls out and opens two sealed and sterilized kits that includes gown, mask and gloves. One is offered to Lefty. "This is for whoever's assisting." She may be assuming that will be him. Apparently she knew at least a little of what she might be getting into, because they are long, long gloves. Whole arm gloves. Just in case she needs to go deeper than her elbow.

Lefty seems to have a relatively strong stomach. He definitely has a strong stomach 'area', as working out is pretty much his job, but either he's been desensitized to violence or is really good at putting on a brave face. After sanitizing his bare arms (his job doesn't include wearing a shirt), he gears up into the appropriate medical attire.

Mak isn't quite as good with gore as Lefty is, and his lower lip is trembling so violently that it's in danger of making the loading platform wobble. But at the sight of his trusted partner getting kitted up in medical gear, the Hutt manages to stretch his wiggling lower lip into a smile that stretches all the way across his broad, froglike face.

"Hang onta that outfit when you're done sealin' me up, Lefty. Our anniversary is in a couple of weeks..."

Behind his surgical mask, Lefty rolls his eyes, but pats the Hutt on the forehead.

Only to immediately remember that he's not supposed to do that, and hurriedly sanitize his gloves again.

Their anniversary plan is just not an image Ayeeou needed. She pauses for a moment, and her eyes actually close briefly. She has a job to do though, so as soon as the scanner has completed its job and she can get the best possible idea what needs doing, all that's left is the hands-on examination.

"I do have pain killers in my bag, but I suspect you have much better here if you'd like something. I need to go in and have a real look." While she's covered her nose and mouth, her tendrils are loose, mostly behind her. A few hang forward somewhat though, to be able to use that sense in the examination as well.

"Oooo... YES! We got a whole mess of RED TAR just come in, don't we!?"

For the first time since he got an extra opening in his hide, Mak looks legitimately happy about something. Red Tar isn't really the kind of thing one can take when trying to fly a freighter, or... operate any sort of equipment. Or even walk in a straight line. It is, however, one of the best substances for taking the edge off and making you enjoy your own autopsy.

Within moments, a very burly Gamorrean female is melting down some Red Tar for the Hutt Lord, and preparing to give him a... supplemental medication.

Just in time too, because whatever the Doctor has planned for Mak's organs, it's probably going to be something he'd like to pay as little attention to as possible.

"Thank you kindly, Ugna... yer a... real... sweet... uh... HELLUVA... uh... real hefty sow."

The Gamorrean female also rolls her eyes, and pats the Medicated Hutt on the forehead.

Ayeeou looks like someone who has heard of the substance, but has certainly never used. All she can really do is nod slowly again, and watch as the female prepares and then administers the drug. She does smile a thank you, apparently not being judgy about that sort of thing.

Once he Hutt has been dosed, she gets to work. They will need to dig given the depth of the wound, and she's not shy about that. Hey, how many get to study the innards of a Hutt, in person? Okay, that might not interest many, but it seems to interest her.

It seems that Lefty's primary job is to help her keep his layers open, so she can reach in there for a good look and gentle feel. Tools can do it, but there's really no substitute for hands-on. She has to cut some to really get in there, but she's careful about it and very specific about what she needs from her assistant as they go along.

She also talks through what she's finding, and eventually says "Yes, this is going to need some work. I'll have to do some, then pack it off and let him recover a little, then go back in. It's too much damage to try to fix all at once." And it's not like the Hutt can fit in a bacta tank.

As one would expect, the Red Tar that Mak has been given is of extremely high quality. It's also a quantity that would kill an entire village of humans, but seems to be just the right amount for a Hutt. Or rather, only 'slightly' too much, which is the desired amount when having highly-invasive, elbow deep surgery.

Fortunately, Lefty's main job is working out, because if it wasn't he'd probably be struggling mightily to keep Lord Makooja's Blubber Layers separated from each other. That's probably going to cause him some internal bruising later.

For his part, Mak seems mostly content to look at the back of one of his pudgy, reddish brown hands and see the interesting ways that the lights and shadows filter through his fingers. But although he's mostly numbed to pain, his enormous tongue is still not too numb to talk. Semi-coherently, that is.

"... he was a DAMN fine smuggler, damn fine... but he got a real bad case of the sugars out near Coruscant-way... that's why I always keep an extra case of snacks in my cockpit... speakin' of snacks... does it smell like stew to anyone else? I swear, it smells like my Grandhutt's famous, home-cooked Chungo-Fish stew..."

It's not a complete narrative, but it goes on in fits and starts for pretty much the entire surgery.

It's possible that most of the doctor's patients aren't so conscious and talkative when she's doing this level of surgery. Her eyes stay mainly focused on her work, but there are a few times when her gaze flickers over towards the Hutt's head. They don't linger though, as she does have her hands full. Of Hutt guts. They both do, and she doesn't spare the praise when Lefty handles the job well. Or, well enough for a lay person.

The extent of Mak's injury having been identified, the Nautolan doctor then sets about carefully starting to make repairs. Her tendrils in front occasionally twitch as they catch a whiff of something, causing her to examine an area a little more carefully before continuing.

It's long, slow work, especially given she's obviously never worked on a Hutt before, but she does seem to be very efficient. There's no rushing, and eventually she begins to carefully pack her work so far in such a way that it can start to heal but can be safely opened up again when they are ready to continue.