- Joined
- Aug 15, 2011
- Messages
- 4,191
- Reaction score
- 0
An average night in one of Coruscant's Entertainment sectors, filled with the sounds of nightclubs and noisy drunks along the pathways that made up Coruscant's cityscape. What was night for that half of the planet was day for the other half, who were recovering from their own nocturnal joys and myriad explorations. At night, Coruscant was at its most active: people, sentients of every sort, came into the bowels of the cityscape and went in pursuit of their vices, be it drugs or alochol, sex or voyeurism, and so much else. It was also at night that the seedier elements got to work: they provided the means for overdoses, muggings, the underground duels, and the murder of competitors. The Coruscant night was lively, no doubt, and for all the darkness involved in it, there were some who took advantage and made a living helping fix things.
Of note was a simple doctor who ran a clinic, oft frequented by different mobsters and gang members who'd been wounded or killed, from which he was paid handsomely or simply extorted for his aid. What funds he got from this work often ended up supplying the clinic with its meds, the bacta supply, repairs, and his own nightly habits which often ended up with a warm bed and happy dreams. As it was, this doctor's current night wasn't quite one of his times away from the work. A special case, specifically a fungal infection that was slowly killing a Rodian youth who'd been shot by a slug-thrower and then brought in, was keeping him awake and on edge. In the small clinic sandwiched between a nightclub and restaurant/bar, with only ten rooms to work in, Vaylen stayed in his office and moved the holo-screen with small touches, sleep-deprived eyes barely open as he looked over the data from the most recent test trials.
But let's describe the clinic more in-depth: ten rooms it had, with one being the lobby which opened onto the pathway outside. Two rooms acted as examination rooms, with adjustable beds for patients to lie on while Vaylen or one of his two medical droids ran tests and left the patients to wait while they had the samples examined. Another two rooms worked as sick-rooms, where long-term patients were kept while they recovered from wounds or sicknesses, able to hold four humans or two wookiees each. Another room acted as storage, where files, spare parts, and a repair-droid were kept, as well as equipment not yet installed or simply defunct and waiting to be broken down for scrap to sell. Then Vaylen's office, a small side-room with barely any room for another humanoid to enter let alone sit. The office was full of papers, books, and the rectangular desk lodged into the corner with a small chair that needed to be replaced, and quite soon. A cover and pillow even lay in one corner, half-buried under some papers: Vaylen's little spot for when he couldn't leave his office, too immersed in work but too tired to keep going. A bottle of caffeine pills even sat on the desk, only two left out of the full capacity of sixty.
Then the last three rooms, two of which held bacta-tanks for the critically wounded that needed better facilities for treatment. Those cases he couldn't handle, Vaylen passed on to the Coruscant Municipal Medical Facility. Sometimes, the bacta-tanks weren't enough to buy them time, though.... a sad truth. The last room was the morgue, where Vaylen worked on preparing the dead for transport to a ship to take them back to their homeworld or a pauper's grave, depending on the individual. The morgue was also Vaylen's sanctuary when work started to bog him down, as well as one of his more favorite parts of the clinic in general.
Now, back to Vaylen and the rest....
The simple doctor was busy at work, eyes barely open as he examined the test results, eyes aching to slide shut after being awake for a straight 86-hours. The occassional delusional flit of movement at the corner of his vision had begun to distract him and the caffeine pills had started to stop working, leaving him to pinch his dulled nerves just to keep awake. He'd left one of the medical droids in the lobby to handle any new entries that night, while the other droid looked over the patients resting in one of the ward-rooms. Vaylen had already gone casual earlier, sliding his shoes and coat off as he'd prepared to sleep, until the test results had arrived and tore him from the nice warmth of his corner and back to working on his patient's life. So far, the results were bleak, as ever. The youth only had a few days before the fungal infection got into his heart and started to shut it and the rest of his body down. Twice, Vaylen had considered sedating the Rodian, so the passing was easier. Sedation would only speed it up, though, and he refused to lose a patient after so much effort.
The yawn took him by surprise as he leaned back in his chair, it creaking ominously in warning before he yawned aloud. His eyes drifted to that warm corner, his sleep-deprived body and mind aching to just lay down and sleep.
Which, probably wouldn't be tonight.
Of note was a simple doctor who ran a clinic, oft frequented by different mobsters and gang members who'd been wounded or killed, from which he was paid handsomely or simply extorted for his aid. What funds he got from this work often ended up supplying the clinic with its meds, the bacta supply, repairs, and his own nightly habits which often ended up with a warm bed and happy dreams. As it was, this doctor's current night wasn't quite one of his times away from the work. A special case, specifically a fungal infection that was slowly killing a Rodian youth who'd been shot by a slug-thrower and then brought in, was keeping him awake and on edge. In the small clinic sandwiched between a nightclub and restaurant/bar, with only ten rooms to work in, Vaylen stayed in his office and moved the holo-screen with small touches, sleep-deprived eyes barely open as he looked over the data from the most recent test trials.
But let's describe the clinic more in-depth: ten rooms it had, with one being the lobby which opened onto the pathway outside. Two rooms acted as examination rooms, with adjustable beds for patients to lie on while Vaylen or one of his two medical droids ran tests and left the patients to wait while they had the samples examined. Another two rooms worked as sick-rooms, where long-term patients were kept while they recovered from wounds or sicknesses, able to hold four humans or two wookiees each. Another room acted as storage, where files, spare parts, and a repair-droid were kept, as well as equipment not yet installed or simply defunct and waiting to be broken down for scrap to sell. Then Vaylen's office, a small side-room with barely any room for another humanoid to enter let alone sit. The office was full of papers, books, and the rectangular desk lodged into the corner with a small chair that needed to be replaced, and quite soon. A cover and pillow even lay in one corner, half-buried under some papers: Vaylen's little spot for when he couldn't leave his office, too immersed in work but too tired to keep going. A bottle of caffeine pills even sat on the desk, only two left out of the full capacity of sixty.
Then the last three rooms, two of which held bacta-tanks for the critically wounded that needed better facilities for treatment. Those cases he couldn't handle, Vaylen passed on to the Coruscant Municipal Medical Facility. Sometimes, the bacta-tanks weren't enough to buy them time, though.... a sad truth. The last room was the morgue, where Vaylen worked on preparing the dead for transport to a ship to take them back to their homeworld or a pauper's grave, depending on the individual. The morgue was also Vaylen's sanctuary when work started to bog him down, as well as one of his more favorite parts of the clinic in general.
Now, back to Vaylen and the rest....
The simple doctor was busy at work, eyes barely open as he examined the test results, eyes aching to slide shut after being awake for a straight 86-hours. The occassional delusional flit of movement at the corner of his vision had begun to distract him and the caffeine pills had started to stop working, leaving him to pinch his dulled nerves just to keep awake. He'd left one of the medical droids in the lobby to handle any new entries that night, while the other droid looked over the patients resting in one of the ward-rooms. Vaylen had already gone casual earlier, sliding his shoes and coat off as he'd prepared to sleep, until the test results had arrived and tore him from the nice warmth of his corner and back to working on his patient's life. So far, the results were bleak, as ever. The youth only had a few days before the fungal infection got into his heart and started to shut it and the rest of his body down. Twice, Vaylen had considered sedating the Rodian, so the passing was easier. Sedation would only speed it up, though, and he refused to lose a patient after so much effort.
The yawn took him by surprise as he leaned back in his chair, it creaking ominously in warning before he yawned aloud. His eyes drifted to that warm corner, his sleep-deprived body and mind aching to just lay down and sleep.
Which, probably wouldn't be tonight.
