Padme was run off her feet with the number of wounded men coming through. There had just been a battle and this was the time when there was a scatter of nurses, healers and med droids buzzing throughout the place trying to stabilise the clones coming through the door. There were too many soldiers and not enough doctors. The wounded were often quite bloodied and torn apart. They would have multiple shots to their bodies or bombs had blasted limbs off. The infirmary had blood all over its once white and pristine floors; dirt and grease on the once neatly made beds, and medical staff at one stage composed were now sweaty and panicked. It was a grotesque sight and it broke Padme's heart every time she saw another clone brought in from out of the battle.
Despite this, Padme loved being a nurse serving in the Clone Wars. It was a horrible sight but she loved serving the men who fought for her safety and against Count Dooku. She was at one stage, a politician, serving the Republic, but felt unfulfilled, feeling like she wasn't getting anywhere. She had spoken to her mother and her sister who suggested maybe a change into another job. Padme decided she wanted to help people more directly. Nursing was the answer she came up with.
Padme had just finished up on one clone who had lost an arm, and moved onto the next victim being wheeled in.
"He was in an explosion, the heat damaged is airways and he may have internal damage so get him scanned," A clone medic informed her.
Padme wheeled the man to a vacant bed and with help, moved him onto it. She grabbed a Radiographing scanner to check for the damage. There was no bleeding, but he had a few broken ribs and bruising internally. His lungs were a bit worse off though. They had damaged tissue, causing him to struggle breathing. Padme decided she needed to get a tube and place it in his lungs so a machine would help him breathe, until he could have a go in the bacta tank. She looked at his face for the first time and was surprised. He wasn't a clone, he was a Jedi, the only other people fighting in this war.
He had sandy coloured hair, a well-muscled body like all the soldiers; he was reasonably tall and had a sweet young face. He looked no more than nineteen. Padme couldn't figure out why, but she felt a strong urge to save him, to protect him. He was so young and it hurt to watch him suffer. He stirred, looking up at her with two crystal blue eyes.
"Are you an angel?" He murmured weakly. Padme didn't know how anyone could mistake her for an angel at this moment, as she was covered in sweat, blood and had dark circles under her eyes from being over worked. His eyes fluttered closed again before she could answer.
Padme placed the tube in his chest and left to find the next patient she needed to treat, but in the back of her mind all she could think about was that young man looking at her with those piercing blue eyes and asking if she was an angel. She felt so drawn to him, but she didn't know why.