Ask Painful Memory

[Nox Solus]

Nox had been offloaded from the corvette and been immediately taken to a nearby hospital. Kaisa had stayed with him as long as she could, sticking in Mandalorian space until it had been revealed the extent of his injuries were too severe and beyond their capabilities. She had paid with whatever credits they both had on hand to transport him before returning back to the ship. Nox didn't blame her, it had been the point of their mission and there was only so much she could do that was beyond her skill set.

At some point, the Solus had lost conciseness on the trip, losing complete track of time, the day, and where he was being taken. There would be moments where he would wake up, find multiple people in masks surrounding him before he was laid down on something. The next time he woke, he felt the sensation of being pushed and he opened his eyes to find bright white lights in the ceiling, repeatedly being passed before another took its place before the same happened to it. Nox still felt the weight of his helmet around his skull and he breathed slightly easier. Slowly, he brought his gaze down to his stomach, still finding the knife that protruded from it, a couple of streams of blood leaking from the armor.

The sight of it reminded him of the pain and he felt a dull ache but definitely not as painful as before. Then his gaze drifted to the right, finding a stump where his arm used to be. Without his own doing, his breathing hitched and began to come at a rapid pace, his vision blurring slightly as he continued to stare where a majority of his arm used to be. The hud had been turned off in his helmet, resulting in his hot breath fogging up parts of his T-visor and blocking his view, only adding to the panic more as he began to become drenched in sweat.

At that point, he had been pulled into a room, already on a bed but he was thrashing. One of the nurses had attempted to remove his plates and helmet and with his general state of hysteria, it only made the situation worse. People around him tried to hold him down but he was still covered in his armor, having been just freshly dropped off. His left foot shot out, catching someone clean in the stomach as it sent a nurse into a metal stand and knocked over a few trays. More bodies flung on top of him, keeping him pinned down as he swung his remaining hand around and in a fist, hitting whatever he could to offer resistance.

One of the doctors shouted, "I thought you sedated him?!" Another nurse ran over, the other one was helped up by her coworkers. "We did! He woke up!" Either Nox somehow pushed himself out of sedation or it wasn't enough, either way, he was awake and not making things easy. The Solus was already hooked up to a blood bag and wouldn't die, resulting in the doctors giving up for the time being to not suffer any more injuries while they called in someone else.

@Killa Ree

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

Amariel had just been stepping down from her ship, when an aide rushed towards her, his blue face dark purple from running. Even before he would say a word, she knew something was wrong. She had visited here to collaborate with some of their trauma team to begin working on a new project; however, it seems the situation has changed.

"Dr. Morata... a thousand apologies... Dr. Belkath is---" the aide took a deep breath, and she nodded once. "Breathe. It's perfectly all right." She stared as the young man seemed to regain some proper color, and then paced along with him, listening. "We have a new patient, one of those Mandalorians--" she froze hearing the name, but the man continued prattling on, oblivious, "missing an arm and he's got a knife in his abdomen," the aide continued, and she nodded along, amber eyes narrowing in thought.

It couldn't be Kotii already.

"Scrub me in."

When he thrashed again, she had stepped into the room wearing the traditional robes of a surgeon. It had been a long time, but she was familiar with the protocol. Not just his fear and panic, but others' fears and panics swelled and surged around her, and she gritted her jaw once under the mask, willing herself to calm.

She took slow, deliberate steps so the male, and others, would hear her enter. A subtle shift of her fingers in the air, with the excuse of adjusting the gloves, seemed to relax some of the tense anxiety the staff had, but her eyes were arrested on one singular figure.

Not Kotii, thank the Force.

She stepped towards him, exuding a calm aura, and looked down into his helmeted visage. Her own voice was calm, cool, as she addressed him.

"I'm Doctor Morata. Calm down. Thrashing will make things worse." Her voice was laced with subtle persuasion, amber eyes looking straight into the slit of his helmet as though meeting his eyes, her hand open in his view. She would move slowly, deliberately. Coming out of sedation was difficult, and especially after all the trauma he'd have seen for himself, she couldn't blame him.

"What's your name?"

She almost wanted to speak Mando'a, but with as much fear that he gave off, it was likely unwise. Some out there still had that holy belief in hiding their faces, after all, and an aruetii knowing their tongue was apparently something appalling rather than soothing.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Somehow, in the chaos of piling on Nox to prevent him from causing any more damage, they retrained his one good hand to the railing of the bed. It was there only counter to him after sedating him failed again, it having a small leash to give some movement and not completely lock his hand up. The doctors had stayed at the edges of the room, not being able to do the same with his legs and remembering the nurse.

The Solus didn't even pay attention to anyone else, only gazing at his own body before slowly lifting the stump that used to be his full arm. As the seconds ticked by while he stared at it, streams of sweat trickled down his face, his vision blurring once more as almost a visage of what his arm used to appear for him, his fingers still controllable and able to experience the feeling of opening and closing. It only lasted for the briefest of seconds, as if the gust of air from the AC simply crumbled and blown it away, revealing the roughly bandaged and hideous limb that was left.

It all hit him at once, how he had failed on the ship and let down his clan, how he wouldn't be the warrior he once was, that he would be part machine and not fully Mandalorian. It was not only that for Nox but it was also one of the first times in his life he had felt completely helpless. There was no one else from his clan with him, he had no clue where he was, he was retrained and wounded, fatigued from blood loss and sedation. Even in dangerous situations that could have killed him, there was always a certain level of calm to him because he knew he could find a way out through his skills and with the blessing of Kad. Not this time, he had been stripped of his weapons and left at the mercy of someone else, even if they wanted to help. It made him feel exposed and it was painful for him to accept the predicament he was in.

As opposed to thrashing, the Solus would repeatedly pull his hand against the restraint, the leather groaning in resistance as he did as well before giving up. That's when a new doctor would walk in, the T-visor snapping to her even through the haze. The blood transfusion had only been started recently and it resulted in his thoughts being quite jumbled. But with one person approaching, it was much easier to focus on her instead of ten different maskless faces above him. At her comment about thrashing, he glanced down at where the knife was still was, some more streams of blood having leaked out, and was mostly not gushing because the weapon was still in him.

The doctor's words would have an effect on him, almost as if there was invisible weight to them that he could almost take note of. She would see Nox shake his head as if trying to clear it, but still sunk back against the bed, the effect not fully taking hold but working. Instead of pulling against the restraint, his hand gripped onto the railing tightly, the leather in his armor crinkling from the effort. When his was name was asked, he gave a curt reply, "Touch my helmet... I'll break your hand." It was a surprise he was even able to speak and stay awake. The doctors would glance at Morata, their look saying, See?

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She smiled down at him, amber eyes crinkling at the corners beneath her mask. Her voice rasped up dryly, beginning to assess the damage. She had the feeling that, if he really wanted to, he could definitely be able to lash out at her. "Dr. Belkath," she spoke over her shoulder, "I'll take care for now. Bring a surgery kit and..." she eyed his arm, pursing her lips slightly.

"...a holopad."

At his threat, she merely perked a white brow. "Wouldn't dream of it. I know of your ways; you're not the first Mandalorian I've had to treat." Briefly, she thought back to Roland, at the temptation to remove his helmet only tempered by the thought of how disrespectful it seemed. Back then, she was still a nobody. Still, he couldn't keep bleeding out like this; regardless of the number of blood packs he could be given, there would only be so much a body could take before it would begin going through intense shock.

Instead, she pressed a hand into his one good shoulder.

An idea formed in the back of her mind; she would wait until he was out from the effects of the knife wound first.

She couldn't wait for him to go under; they would run out of time, and with the amount of blood he had lost already, it could possibly kill him. "I'm not going to put you under, but I'm going to dull the pain," she spoke to him, looking back into his visor. "I'll need you to keep still; you'll feel pressure, but if you feel any pain you tell me right away." This wasn't a suggestion; the weight of her words rested heavily over his mind, golden eyes once more their usual icy sheen.

He was injected with a nerve block; enough to knock out the pain of even the most frantic and desperate man. She took a deep breath and squared her shoulders.

"I'll try to repair the under-armor as much as I can, as well. Don't move."

She would have to work quickly; if the knife got anywhere near the abdominal artery or vena cava, he'd bleed out, perhaps faster than she could fix. She waited until the surgery tray was next to her, and then she began.

Prepping the skin with swabs, the knife was deftly removed then put in a container; blood began to well, and suction was applied. She leaned over him, mindful of his arm and legs, repairing the tears and bleeds. None of it was near any large arteries or veins, but it concerned her that it was dangerously near the stomach. Nothing perforated, but she worked quickly, quickly, unaware that the entire room was watching silently in open-mouthed shock.

Only her words punctured the silence.

"Keep awake," she spoke to her patient. "Tell me your name. Age, if you'd prefer. Talk. It'll help." She was being curt as well; she had to make sure he wasn't going into cardiac arrest or fading out. Blood was up to her wrists. The hole was being cleaned, repaired, and she would listen as she worked, unaware that sweat was sliding down her forehead, that his blood was staining the front of her surgical gown.

It wouldn't take long to repair, but by the time she was done, her hands were cramping from exhaustion. "Any pain?"

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

The Mandalorian stared up at the ceiling as the Doctor spoke to him, her words entering through one ear, tumbling through, and then exiting out the next. It wasn't on purpose, his mind just couldn't latch onto anything strongly enough to actually think about it, the only times him lashing out being when his instinct and training kicked in. With his focus on the ceiling, he didn't even catch the woman moving closer to him before placing a hand on his shoulder, still at least able to feel the pressure through the haze that he was in.

At first, he shifted away slightly but not enough for her hand to be removed from him. It wasn't because of her, it was more disgust at himself for ending up in a place like this where he needed help. The little tidbit that he wasn't the first Mandalorian she had treated stuck with him for a little bit but eventually, it was dragged down and lost in the haze as well. The Solus remained silent still as she explained what was going to happen and what he should be feeling when it did. In the end, his silence would just have to be taken as a yes in order to get to work.

There would be a soft grunt as the needle was pushed through his skin gingerly before the entire area numbed in a matter of a few seconds. Another soft grunt would escape from him, not because of pain but just because of the pressure he felt near the wound. It was a weird sensation and it was the complete opposite from what he had been experiencing literally minutes ago. Relief washed over him, no longer feeling the metal jabbed into his intestines.

When the knife was removed, Nox weakly mumbled out, "Latches." He then lifted his injured arm and acted as if it had a hand, ready to remove the chest piece until he realized his mistake. With a slam but not fully, it shook the bed slightly as he seethed from the pain for a few seconds. Maybe it was too late for it to be removed and while his armor was battle-scarred, he didn't want to be ruined by whatever doctors were working on him.

As the process continued, the Solus' eyes would grow heavier and heavier. Each blink came at a slower pace, it requiring more energy than the last time to keep them open. It would have been so easy to just slip away into the darkness, into the warmth that was in the back of his mind that he was conjuring. But, Ilana's words pierced through whatever wall was in his mind as she reminded him to stay awake, the force almost amplifying it. Done almost without his permission, answers just started to flow out of him, "Nox... 25, 26."

Then, he would start to shake his head, giving a quick whipping to each side as he muttered the word, "Get..." Some doctors thought he was about to say, 'Get off', and were ready to pile on top if he did something. But the Doc would have a sense he meant to say 'Get out', clearly referring to her words and the extra push from the force. The only reason he didn't was that he never dealt with something like the force before and he didn't know if he was turning crazy or something else.

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

When the others shifted forward as though to pin him down again, she shook her head. Tensions were high, and with his words and actions it only ramped up higher. Such things made her want to grit her teeth in frustration. When there were this many people in a room, it made focus difficult.

"Give me some time alone, please."

It must have been a panicky feeling, having someone in his head, telling him what to do. "Good to meet you, Nox. I'm Ilana." So basic, prosaic, an introduction of herself in a stressful situation. Staff began to shuffle back, to move as she continued to work. She saw how he kept attempting to use the raw remains of his arm; it was hastily bandaged, but it couldn't stay that way.

"I'm a specialist. Surgery, research and cybernetics." Her touch was light, gentle, and her words were slow, as though to a spooked Lothcat. "I can give you full function, or better for your arm. But it will be a long process. But first, you'll need to rest, heal a little while. And then I'll ask some questions for what you'd prefer." She looked into the visor, and then took off her own glove. He would see the gleam of a cybernetic hand, before she'd turn away.

"Rest for now, Nox. I'll talk with you later."

She had a few days here; though she had no doubt he would have some questions of his own, it looked like she found a new patient for a patent pending of hers.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Thankfully, the doctor had asked for the rest to leave the room and it was easy to notice it had eased his nerves slightly. Dealing with someone one on one was much more manageable instead of eight or more. Nothing was uttered in response when she revealed her name, the force not helping persuade him to loosen his tongue anymore as he found it surprisingly much easier. The plate had been removed and his T-visor simply pointed toward the ceiling as he let the doctor continue to patch him up.

When she had finished with his abdomen, she made her way over to the side of the bed where it made it much easier to focus on her. The only sound that would be audible from him would be the sound of his breathing. It was a rare sight, a completely defeated and wounded Mandalorian, at the whim of whatever happened to him. Ilana would be able to sense that was the aspect that bothered him the most and one that he was still attempting to wrap his mind around; even though it had almost been stretched to its breaking point so far. Ironically, it was more common for her than most people.

Nox was in his own head mostly but her words about offering a replacement brought him back to reality, his helmet twisting slightly as an indication that he was listening. His arm could be replaced? Even better? He had performed enough jobs that he had built a stable enough cushion of credits in case of emergencies like this and there appeared to be a small hint of light at the end of the tunnel. The Mandalorian was about to open his mouth but then Ilana removed her glove and revealed her own hand, a cybernetic one that moved flawlessly in the light. It was a testament to her words and it made him close his mouth and silence himself, thankful his helmet covered his face.

At the suggestion of rest, that's when he would finally feel what was happening to his body. It ached from tiredness, its claw's practically dragging him deeper into the bed as his eyes slowly began to shut. His head felt as if it weighed 1000 pounds and he simply dropped it onto the pillow, no longer able to defy it. Everything about him felt drained and he didn't get to see Ilana leave the room, only hearing the sound of her footsteps before he simply passed out and put into a deep slumber by his own body.

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

The temptation was strong while he rested. Several of the staff attempted to remove his helmet while he was unconscious, and she denied them until she had to cite cultural abuse, which meant that he was given some respite of their curiosity. However... she was also curious. What kind of a man was this, to lash out this much after so much had happened? Why had he been so terrified? Was it merely the arm... or something more?

Still, she was good on her word. She repaired the body glove beneath the armor to the best of her talent and began the lengthy process of attaching nodes to his arm for the cybernetic limb. She attempted to keep as much of the remaining arm as possible, but a temporary one would have to do until he woke.

She could be patient enough to allow him the time to decide for himself. However, the staff there insisted he be restrained; she thought it a terrible idea, but in the end, they did it despite her warnings. Guess they didn't mind broken beds.

So she waited until he would rise to consciousness again, carefully watching his vitals for any sort of indication of danger or distress.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Nox wouldn't be able to resist if he wanted to. It had quite the past few days and the toll on his body had been extreme, to say the least. When his eyes had closed, his system cashed in and pulled him down under easily, giving him the rest that he desperately required to ease his mind and to collect his senses once more. Even for the nurses or the doctors that managed to touch his helmet, they wouldn't earn a response and he had Ilana to thank for ensuring that he remained masked.

Eventually, he would be pulled out from his slumber, his mind kicking to be free before finally achieving its wish as his eyes snapped open. At first, he just stared at the ceiling, adjusting to the sunlight that flooded through the windows and illuminated the room. With a slow lift of his head, he found his torso plate detached still, the glove underneath suffering damage but nothing that couldn't be fixed. Most importantly, the eventual scar on his stomach ached but it wasn't nearly as bad as before. Stitches kept the wound closed and he made sure not to do anything to disturb the handiwork. The Solus was mostly used to the healing process herbs, ancient practices, or other traditional medicine, it was the way of his clan and the way of the nomad. But through his years out in the galaxy, he knew not to question help when he came across it. Everyone always needed a little assistance.

Nox then turned his head to the right, finding Illana standing there and his half-arm that he constantly thought would grow back every time he woke up. It was a sight he still had to get used to as it was lifted in the air, the nodes not adding to the appealing nature of the wound. It was one of his only limbs that hadn't been restrained and he was at least grateful for that. After his quick inspection, he slowly lowered it back to the bed and turned his helmet fully to gaze upon Illana. It only lasted a few seconds before he chuckled with a sort of half humor, "I half expected a bandage wrap and then all of you throwing me into some alley-way to call it a day." It had been done before, a long story.

But as he tore his gaze away, Illana would be able to witness the levity that the chuckle gave him slip away after a moment. A couple more seconds would pass before he finally spoke again, "Thank you... for everything." Even though his face wasn't visible, his tone gave away all that she needed to know. Despite the haze he had been in, the tidbit about knowing his ways was still caught by him and he connected the dots as to why his helmet was still on his head. There was gratefulness to his words, true gratefulness for her actions that he would never forget but also a tinge of sadness. It was once more relying on someone else and this time in order to uphold the sanctity of his religion, not himself. Not only that but she had saved his life when one of the three most likely wanted it for his transgressions. Nox vowed to never be in the position where it was his life or his beliefs and not be the one to make the choice.

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She couldn't exactly explain it, but she could sense when his eyes were watching her. He was becoming more alert, more aware of his surroundings, and at his words, amber eyes flicked over to his helmet. A faint grin touched her lips, along with a quiet huff. "They tried. But I persisted." She had the feeling he had been given less gracious treatment, and judging by how aggressive he had been on the treatment table before... she couldn't exactly blame them.

Still, at his words, her gaze slipped over his helm once more, and she gave a brief, curt nod. She knew, even though he hadn't said it, that it meant a great deal for what she had done. Shifting on her feet in slight discomfort, she turned back to the display, ears flushed at the sudden thanks.

"So..." she cleared her throat softly, then nodded to his arm. "You have options... I can order a generic limb." She nodded to an arm piece lying on the table behind her. "Or..." She rolled up her sleeve, exposing her mechanical hand, flexing it for emphasis. "I can make something more custom. Or..." She glanced at his features calmly, not blinking.

"You may grant me permission to try something. A... way to grow your arm back, to almost as it was. A clone."

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Nox would give a slight nod back before pulling his T-visor away from her as he planted it forward. This would be where his options would be listed and find out the extent that he could be repaired. He would listen silently as she began to talk, still wrapping his mind around that he was in a position to make this type of choice. When she would reveal her final option, a chance to grow a replica of the old one he lost, his head would turn towards her, his face obviously masked from view and hiding the shock from her statement but she would be able to feel it.

The Solus had never heard of someone being able to grow their arm back. Where he was from, the only types of prosthetics he saw were shitty ones that at least still contained some motor function. It didn't pass by him how she worded it, needing his permission and that she was "trying" it, not leaving him excited by the prospect. Nox would begin to shake his head, maybe surprisingly to the Doctor, but in the end, not for being suspicious of her but because of something else. "No, no cloning. I lost it because of my own mistakes. I don't want it covered up." What he wanted was a reminder, not a clone of his arm that he could forget was even fake after a few years.

His helmet then dipped toward the cybernetic hand that Ilana claimed as her own. With his one remaining hand and almost not of his own accord, he tried to reach out with it to touch her robotic one but would only make it a few inches. The railing along the side of his bed would strain as it halted him mid way. Nox would turn his head, finding the chain that was linked to one his good hand as he let out a soft exhale, dropping it by his side once more. The hospital and his introduction hadn't been on the friendliest terms and it slipped from his mind.

With his T-visor returning back to her and specifically her cybernetic limb, nodding towards it, "How custom are we talking about Doc?" It was the best choice that he was willing to accept.

 

[Dr Ilana Morata]

She visibly blinked in surprise when he replied he didn't want a clone of his old arm. Granted, it was new and imperfect technology, but she had fully expected the man to want something like the original function... though she couldn't blame him. She had a similar excuse for her own cybernetic; even now, she didn't really regret the choices she made up to losing it. She didn't regret the lessons she learned earning it.

However, seeing him move to touch it, before finding the restraints, made her shift forward. "I'll release you... all I ask is you don't try to punch or kick me." Amber eyes glinted, and for the first time, he'd see a ghost of a smile, as she removed the shackles with a pressed button on one display. She reached out her good arm, and brought his hand to her forearm, displayed how it worked by flexing her palm.

"I can make it as good as the original," she stated plainly. "However... it will cost you. Something like this is tailored for you. Would you be willing to accept this cost, in exchange for something like this?" She wouldn't beat around the bush; the choice was ultimately his, at the end of the day.

@Orbit

 

[Nox Solus]

Ilana offered the suggestion of release and gave her a quick and silent nod. There was no way to spot his features or emotions but the gesture would still come across as genuine. When the restraints were released, he tore his T-visor away from her and brought his attention to his free hand as he lifted it into the air, his fingers flexing as he enjoyed the sensation of unrestricted movement.

She was still the only one in the room with him and one without a complete bad impression of him. The Solus was always at a certain level of being prepared, his life and training honing his instincts into defending himself but with just her presence, the need of help for him, and the restraints being removed meant that she wouldn't get any form of resistance from. Illana was more likely to earn his compliance more than anything as she had already made it clear to others that his helmet couldn't be removed.

Nox returned his attention to her as she stepped forward and placed his hand along the forearm of her cybernetic one. The Mandalorian solely focused on the robotic limb as he was able to feel the machinery underneath, pulling and pushing as she tightened her hand into a fist. When the little display was ended, his hand would slowly slip off her arm as he continually stared at her arm. Even with such a small performance, it was a real sample of what his life would be like moving forward and a reminder that it wasn't a bad dream.

Eventually, his helmet lifted as the cross of his T-visor would meet her gaze, "We most likely spent most our money just getting to this hospital. The rest of mine isn't on hand as well." The would "we" would be referring to his sister who had lifted him here. Nox would bring his line of sight to the door, peering at it for a few seconds before returning his focus to her and offered something else, "I can offer my services. Use the payout for the replacement and if it doesn't clear, I'll retrieve the rest." It was a longshot since he was speaking to a doctor who most likely had no need for a Mandalorian, especially one with one arm. Nox wouldn't have been any help in surgery, to say the least, and that idea was even worse with one limb missing.

It was the best he could do for the time being, however in his state currently. Nox would give a slight shrug of his shoulders to her, "Up to you, Doc."