Chapter 12: Bad First Impressions

“I need pressure on this wound!” Elara shouted orders to the pair of frazzled rebels that had been assigned to the medical tent with her. The metallic smell of blood tinged the air as one of them darted over and pressed on the laceration with shaking hands, replacing Elara’s steady ones. Assured that the soldier wouldn’t immediately bleed out, Elara rifled through the medical supply crate at the end of the makeshift operating table. 

One of the rebel battle groups had been ambushed by a squad of Imperial war droids while on patrol. The ambush initiated with several of the droids racing up to the group and self-destructing, causing a great deal of injury from the shrapnel. As the engagement had been just on the other side of the cliffs where the base was located, Elara and Jorgen had both raced to provide assistance. Elara was currently attending to the wounded, and Jorgen was out rallying the survivors to keep the Imps at bay. Finally finding the handheld suture gun she had been looking for, Elara returned to the side of the wounded Zabrak.

“I’m going to need you to remove the bandage and pinch the wound closed as best as you can,” she said, locking eyes with the tech who was still holding the rapidly reddening bandage against the Zabrak’s torso. The tech blinked rapidly, their focus shifting between the blood soaking through and Elara’s stern expression. “Hey, pay attention.” Elara’s voice hardened, and the tech stopped looking down at the site of the injury. “Can you do that?”

“Y-yes,” the tech replied, his voice quivering to match his hands.

“I need you to repeat back what I told you to do.”

“R-remove the bandage, and h-hold the wound closed.”

Elara nodded. While she had assumed the rebels would be a little more accustomed to the carnage of the battlefield, it was always difficult to know what everyone had experienced. It was readily apparent that the two techs in the shoddy triage tent had seen very little, if any, of the battlefield, and she hoped that today would make them stronger. Bending forward, Elara put herself in the line of sight of the Zabrak rebel splayed out on the table.

“I’m going to stitch this closed, and it’s going to hurt, but I have to make it hurt so it doesn’t get worse.” The Zabrak grimaced, her face pale, but gave a single dip of her head in acknowledgement. While the techs were green, this soldier looked to have been a veteran judging by the way she was all grim resolve and few words. Shifting closer to the injury, Elara readied her equipment. “On the count of three, okay?

“One …

“Two …

“THREE!”

The tech pulled away as soon as Elara counted out the final number and blood began to pour from the wound, running down the soldier’s side and pooling on the stretcher. In an instant the tech was back, fingers slick with red pulling the two jagged edges of the laceration together. A fair amount of skin had been torn away by whatever had pierced the rebel, which wasn’t ideal, but Elara would make it work. With swift precision, she pressed the suture gun against the top of the gash and pulled the trigger. There was a snapping sound, and the soldier gasped in pain. Ignoring the response, Elara continued her work, methodically moving down the wound and pulling the trigger.

SNAP, KSNAP, KSNAP.

By the time she’d reached the last stitch, the Zabrak was breathing in ragged sobs through gritted teeth. If she had known how underequipped the rebels were Elara would have brought some pain suppressants of her own, but unfortunately she was stuck patching up these troops with nothing to dull the pain besides the potential adrenaline rush they may still be experiencing. Even bacta was in short supply, especially out on the front lines.

Surveying her work, she grabbed a cloth and wiped away some of the blood. The wound still oozed a little, but otherwise it looked like it was no longer a high risk. There’d be a gnarly scar there for sure, but better a scar than a grave.

“Help me move her off to the side and then grab another stretcher,” Elara barked to the attendant that had helped with the Zabrak. As she grabbed one side of the stretcher, she called out to the other tech. “Can the next patient walk?”

The stocky tech glanced over toward where the wounded who had yet to be treated were waiting. “Yeah, he’s mobile.”

“Get him over here. No time to wait around.” Elara heaved the stretcher up and, with the assistance of the tech, shuttled it out to the back side of the tent. As soon as it touched the ground the tech was bounding toward the spare stretchers. Elara took one last look at the wound she’d just stitched up to ensure it was still holding then strode back into the triage area. She briefly thought of calling to get a status update from Jorgen but dismissed the impulse, knowing that it wouldn’t impact her work one way or the other.

As she checked out the next patient, she hoped that Eko was having a slightly less chaotic time than she was.

—

By the time the ambush had been quelled and the injured had been stabilized, they had gotten notice from the captain that she was en route to the Cerulean Vulptex with Tanno Vik in tow. The message had been brief and to the point, but something about the verbiage led Elara to believe that this Tanno Vik had not made a good first impression with the captain.

She finished relaying some care instructions to the base medical officer and then met Jorgen outside the door, the Cathar leaning against the wall with his arms crossed like he was oft to do.

“All finished?” he asked, cocking his head in the direction of their ship.

“Yes. Now we can get back to the ship so I can patch up that blaster burn on your bicep.”

Jorgen scowled, covering up the injury as if Elara hadn’t already seen it. “It’s fine, barely even qualifies as a burn.” They fell into step alongside each other and Elara gave the sergeant a withering glare.

“Don’t make me tell the captain you’ve been disobeying my medical orders again,” Elara threatened, smirking at the way Jorgen’s shoulders immediately tensed. “You remember what happened last time.”

“Yeah yeah,” he muttered. “Fine, you can patch it up. But you’ll see it’s barely worth the trouble.”

Elara gave a noncommittal grunt and they continued their walk in a friendly silence.

—

The sound of approaching boots followed by the thud of Forex’s legs caught Elara’s attention as she finished wrapping a gauze pad around Jorgen’s burn. As expected, it was a bit worse than the Cathar was letting on, though it wouldn’t have caused much of an issue if let heal by itself. However, with the antiburn gel that Elara had applied, it should be almost fully healed by tomorrow morning, with no risk of scarring.

Though if Jorgen’s grumbling was any indication, the lack of scarring was actually a negative.

They both turned toward the boarding ramp door, which they had left open while patching up Jorgen’s arm. The first figure to appear at the top of the ramp was Eko, who had her helmet in her hand and a look of irritation on her face. She caught Elara’s eye and smiled faintly, though it quickly disappeared as the second figure stepped through the boarding door.

“Well, isn’t this nice.” Tanno Vik crossed his beefy arms, the weathered skin of his face pulling into a toothy smile as he took in the interior of the ship. Elara couldn’t tell whether he was being sarcastic or not, as he had one of those voices that felt just a little insincere in tone, no matter what he was saying. “Maybe I’ll buy it off of you after this mission is over.”

Ah, so not sarcastic.

Vik’s eyes continued to rove over the space until they landed on Elara. Immediately his grin grew into more of a leer and he raised two fingers to his brow in a mock loose salute. “Hey, babe, Specialist Tanno Vik at your service. Maybe I can show you how special I really am.”

Elara’s guard went up and she immediately began evaluating what the best course of action was to shut down this interaction, but was interrupted before she could get far.

“HEY.” The captain’s voice was sharp enough to cut beskar, and she had barely raised it above her normal volume. “I thought I made it clear that none of that shit is going to fly when you’re with me.” Eko had shifted slightly, putting herself between Vik and Elara, the Weequay now focused on the furious Chiss.

With a chuckle, Vik raised his hands and took a step back. “Sorry, Cap, old habits, you know?”

“I don’t care if they’re old habits or new habits, they will not be present on my ship or in my squad. I need your skills, but don’t think for a second that I will keep you on if you disobey me or disrespect the squad. As soon as you become more trouble than you’re worth, I’m dropping you at the next spaceport, mission or no. Are we clear?” Eko stared down the cavalier demolitionalist, who finally looked to be taking the threat a little more seriously. There must have been some form of this conversation already, but it seemed that Vik hadn’t expected the captain to hold such a hard stance.

“Yeah, yeah we’re clear.” Vik’s shoulders dropped slightly, and he sighed. “I take it this means I’m going to have to put my smuggling operation on hiatus?”

“You can do what you want with your smuggling operation, as long as it doesn’t involve my ship or my squad.”

Vik gave a lopsided grin. “Eh, I can work with that.”

Eko relaxed slightly, then pointed down toward one of the storage bays. “Feel free to set up in there. Let me know if you need anything.” Without any further words, Vik shouldered his rucksack and headed toward where he’d be settling in. As soon as he was out of the room and the door slid shut behind him, Elara heard Jorgen let out a long breath.

“Looking forward to working with him,” Jorgen muttered. Though she wouldn’t voice it out loud, Elara regrettably agreed with him.

“Stow it, Sergeant,” Eko said, her voice sharp. She walked toward the two of them, helmet tucked under her arm. “I meant everything I said before. We need Vik’s demolition expertise, but I will not tolerate insubordination or any infighting that distracts from our main objective. That means from any side. Understood?”

Both Elara and Jorgen gave a crisp salute. “Yes ma’am.”

Eko softened her stance, and leaned in a little closer. Her proximity made Elara’s breath hitch, even though she knew it was the least intimate scene possible. Eko dropped her voice as she spoke again. “Don’t hesitate to inform me of any questionable behavior. I know I can trust you two, and I’m not sure if I can trust him yet. Use your best judgment, but don’t let something slide because you don’t want to be a nuisance.” She stepped back, breaking the small huddle they had been in, and headed toward the cockpit. “I’ll get us in orbit, then call General Garza to get the sitrep on our last recruit.”

As she exited the main area, Jorgen and Elara exchanged a glance. With luck, Vik wouldn’t be a liability, but at least they knew the captain had their back if he was. Letting out a small sigh as she returned to her quarters, Elara hoped the final member of their team wouldn’t be one of such a questionable personality. She’d gotten lucky with Eko and Jorgen, and even Forex was good to work with. It would have been foolish to assume that everybody would mesh well, but she could dream.

There was the slight increase in pressure as the Cerulean Vulptex lifted off the ground, and Elara sat down on her bunk. She pulled off her gloves and leaned back, letting her fingers press into the surprisingly soft sheets, especially for a military craft. One more pick up, and then they’d get to figure out their next big objective.

And maybe at some point in the midst of all that, she’d be able to get a handle on her feelings. Feelings that were definitely not diminishing.