Log:Visiting Hours

Visitng Hours

OOC Date: April 26, 2016
Location: Med Lab - D'Qar
Participants: Nym Landala, Hex

It's been a bit. The extraction for Nym from Sullust took a little while. Her wingman radioed in the pilot's last seen position, however, with the extraction of the ground team and the medical emergencies there, it took them longer than the 'dawn' prediction to find and extract the young pilot. While thirsty and hungry - and a bit bruised and scratched - she certainly was no worse for wear than the others. As soon as she heard about the dire nature of both Ambrosia and Hex's condition, she was quick to visit, coming and staying as long as she could in between her duties.

Hex hasn't spent much time awake since the Incident on Sullust, so if Nym visited previously, it might have been a one-sided conversation. Into the bacta, out of the bacta, procedures, tests, over and over and over again - it's been a long week. But he's awake this time, sitting up in one of the hospital beds - a repulsorlift chair parked near the end of it suggests that he's gained some freedom lately, but it's freedom bound to the chair. His right arm ends abruptly above the elbow, bandaged neatly there, and the hospital bed blankets are too flat on the side where his left leg should be. At present, he's arguing with an orderly, who is reminding him, "You need to eat! How do you expect to heal if you don't eat?" The only answer in response is a disconsolate, "Maybe later."

Into the room comes Nym. She's been bandaged and fed, so she's looking mostly normal. "Knock knock," she says, glancing first at the orderly to see if visiting is okay and then over toward Hex. Having already seen him while he was unconscious, the arms and the legs are missing are less of a shock. However, this is the first time she's been able to visit while he's been awake. "Heya Hex," she greets, slipping her bag off her shoulder, holding it in her hands. "Mind a visitor?"

The orderly gives Hex a somewhat exasperated look but then gives up on him, perhaps thinking that visitation will do him some good. She exits, and Hex musters up a half smile for his guest. "Nym. Hey," he greets. "How are you? I heard you made it back okay, but it's a relief to see you in person all the same."

"I'm okay. Mostly just a little...rattled." Nym shrugs her shoulders. Her own experience on Sullust has left the woman a bit withdrawn - which for the friendly and eager to learn pilot is a slight difference. However, she gives Hex a smile, much like he musters one up for her. "I did, yeah. Mostly just embarrassed, a pilot needing a pick up. Crashing an X-Wing." She moves toward a chair and settles into it. She's unsure if she should ask how he's doing, if that will just be a reminder of things. Settling on a noncommittal question of his situation, she asks, "Have you been harassing the orderlies properly?"

They're both lacking their usual joie du vivre, maybe, but she's making an effort, and so is he. "Not as much as Major Greystorm is. I'm the good kid, compared to her." He hesitates, then says quietly, "I don't think you have anything to be embarrassed about, Nym. No shame in what happened." Another pause. "Then again, that's what they keep telling me and I haven't come around to believing it, so feel free to question the validity of this advice."

"I wouldn't want to be on Major Greystorm's bad side." There's a bit of a smirk at that. "And it's hard to imagine you being the good kid." Nym tries to bring a bit of their old teasing back. However, there's a pause. "I read the AAR." She doesn't mention the fact that she cried while reading it, nor the fact that she has to make her own and has been putting it off. She's completely unsure of what else to say about it. Sighing, puts the bag on the ground, which makes a suspiciously bottle-like sound against the floor. "I'm not sure what could have been done against a black robed figure with a lightsaber."

Ah, yes, the AAR. The events. The things that happened. Hex looks away, before he tries to answer. "There wasn't anything I could have done," he agrees, quietly. "There wasn't anything anyone could have done. It was a slaughter, Nym. We don't have /that/. We can't fight that." He looks back at her, and seems more vulnerable than she's ever seen him before. Lost in questions he can't answer. "Someone with power like that? Someone who can throw us around like puppets and cut us apart while we burn? I can still feel the hate, the evil, boiling off of him every time I close my eyes. What are any of us able to do against that?"

Nym leans forward and attempts to gently pick up Hex's left hand in hers. "I'm sorry." She wishes she could have been there, that she had been able to shoot whoever did this to Hex from the sky, that she could have done something to stop all this. "I don't know. I wish I did. I wish there was a story my dad told me about how to stop someone like him." That's, mostly, what she has as her battle armor - the stories her father told her about Endor and the like and what he did in similar situations. "But, there has to be something. Some way we can fight him. We'll figure it out and we'll stop him."

Hex seems hesitant about the touch at first, but allows her to take his hand, and closes his fingers around hers when she does. "I came to this place with nothing," he admits, quietly. "I'd just run away from being a slave. I didn't own anything, I didn't know anything, I didn't know what to do with myself, other than that I was angry and I wanted to take it out on something that deserved it. The Resistance gave me hope, you know? A life. A future. A direction. This is - this is the first time I've felt like this is hopeless. This is the first time I feel like I've watched the sun go down and thought it might not rise again. It might be dark. Maybe we win.... but what if we don't?"

Nym doesn't have the same experience with the Resistance that Hex does, however she certainly knows the feeling of it being everything to her. Being a pilot amongst these people has been all she's ever wanted since she was a kid. Some would say that wasn't too long ago. She takes a moment before she answers. "It's not hopeless." Nym has always been the optimist, a true believer in the mission. "The General has been through this before. She'll know how to stop them." Her words are firm on that. Then, she adds, quietly, "And even if it is, what else can we do? Not fight? Not try and stop them? Let people like that take over everything without any resistance slow them down?"

Hex laughs, though it's not really a mirthful or cheery sound. More of a 'laugh lest we cry' kind of deal. "I won't stop fighting, Nym," he promises. "I won't give up. Sesti will get some cybernetics in place for me, and once I figure out how to use them, I'll - I will go back to work. I don't think the right thing to do would be to stop fighting, even if we suffer. I just... sometimes when it's dark and they've got me on too many drugs or too few, I worry our suffering isn't enough to make any difference." A pause lingers, then he musters up another half smile. "But if we die, we die with our hands unbound, and if we lose, we didn't go down quiet, and -- that's enough, I think that it has to be enough."

"I didn't think you would," Nym replies to him earnestly. "I'll help. However I can." She's not exactly sure she how, other than with moral support. "And I don't think it's the suffering that matters, it's the effort. We're the ones that see what's really going on in the galaxy. I really believe that. And I believe you're right that it would be wrong of us to stop fighting. We're already making a difference, I think. What we're doing now...it means something." It has to.

"Maybe so." Hex seems less convinced, but then again he's missing a couple limbs and has an interesting variety of burn scarring all over his green self. "Nym, what happened to the other pilot? The TIE they sent after you to chase you away, after you strafed the compound."

Nym is the one that escaped the battle without much bodily harm. It may be a bit easier to be optimistic. However, she looks down at the the hand of Hex's that she still holds and shrugs her shoulders again, unsure she can look up at him. "I clipped her in the air and we both went down. She survived. Went looking for her gunner and we ran into each other. It was the same pilot I'd been engaging with over Endor and Felucia. We were stranded together for awhile. I thought I could bring her in for questioning or something, but she got away."

"You were stranded together for a while?" Hex doesn't seem to know what to make of that, blinking at Nym for a moment. "Why didn't you just --" shoot her, is probably where that was going. It seems that attempting it would have been his first thought, but then, he's boots on the ground, and his entire job description revolves around trying to kill people who are trying to kill him, relatively up close and personal. And even that... obviously said job description has done a number on him, physically and mentally. So he pauses, and reconsiders this, in light of what he knows about Sullust and about Nym herself. "You are a good person," he decides, with quiet sincerity. "I think that's a hard thing to be in this universe, and if I ever had a shot at it, it's long since past. But you are a good person, Nym Landala, and I don't mistake your kindness for weakness."

There's a bit of a wince at that his question and the obvious continuation of that. It's part of why Nym has been hesitant to make her official AAR. "She could have killed me," she says softly, in the interim. "Over Sullust. It's part of the reason we collided. I knew she had me and I panicked in trying to get away." Also, getting into a fire fight with someone else most likely would end poorly for the small pilot. She's not someone who handles ground situations terribly well. Then, she shakes her head. "You care about others and help them. Us. You're a good man, Hex. I've always thought so."

"Poe will understand," Hex points out, not unkindly. "If anyone would, it'd be him. Not everyone is going to, maybe, but he will. He cares about a person's whole being, and he will understand what happened and why it did. That other pilot, I imagine... maybe not so gentle on her side. And if you're ever on the ground with her again, you might have to expect that they've washed the hesitation out of her." As for him being a good man, he seems skeptical, but one corner of his mouth crooks into a half-smile again. "We might have to agree to disagree, Nym. I'm not good. But I might work my way up to it, over time."

There's another frown there, both at the thought that the others might not understand and that the woman she met will be washed away by the First Order. The hesitation, the humanity, it meant something to Nym. "Maybe," is how she hedges her bets - both on Poe understanding as well as what may happen if she ever meets the other woman again. Instead, she focuses on Hex. "If you disagree, then, yes, we will." Her own smile is reassuring and caring when she looks up. "Because I think you are. I think you're one of the best." Pulling one hand away, she reaches into her bag and pulls out a small bottle of Feen Juice and sets it nearby. "I got this for you."

"Feen!" Hex laughs, totally surprised, and delighted along with it as he reaches left handed to take the bottle. "Arni'soyacho," he says in Ryl, and then translates, "Thank you very much. Where did you even find this, Nym? You don't see it very often off Ryloth, or away from other congregations of Twi'lek expatriates."

"Let me tell you," Nym replies with a proud look. "I have my contacts, even amongst the rarest of goods." Then she leans forward just a little, her voice soft. "I mayyyyy have used the bigger bottle you had before and made a smaller, more transportable bottle so that I could sneak it in here. But, I can neither confirm nor deny this."

Hex laughs, and doesn't drink the bottle just yet, instead setting it down on the table near his bed where he can admire it a little longer. Sharing the table space is a datapad, and a tablet or stylus where it looks like he's been trying to write - but unfortunately he is very obviously not left handed, and it seems like it was slow going. "Thank you," he repeats. "Thank you, Nym. I am - it means more than you know." He might have gone on, but they are interrupted by the arrival of one of the doctors, medical datapad in hand. "I'm going to have to ask you to wrap it up," she says, bringing visiting hours to a close. She eyes her patient, "We've got some diagnostics we need to run, to see how you're coming along toward being ready for cybernetics."

When Hex laughs, Nym beams back at him, glad to hear the sound. "You're welcome, Hex," She replies with a smile - a genuine one. "I'm glad you like it." When the doctor arrives, she turns in the chair. The smile fades just slightly, but she nods her head. "Of course, Doctor." She doesn't want to impede diagnostics or the moving forward toward cybernetics. Standing, she puts the bag back over her shoulder and leans forward to give a quick, soft kiss to Hex's forward, should he allow it. "I'll be back later, okay? We'll talk more then."

Hex, likewise, seems disappointed that visiting hours have been brought to a close, replaced with the considerably less enchanting world of being poked, prodded, hooked to tubes and wires, and fussed at in the name of medicine. But at the end of the day, he's still a soldier, and he does what he's told... not that he can get up and flee at present, anyway! "See you around, Nym," he offers, with that hint of a crooked smile again. "Thanks for coming by. And.. for being you. It helps." Helps with what? No explanation follows, as the doctor activates the repulsorlift on the hospital bed, and pushes him away off down the hallway to the tests that await.