DAY TWO

Minerva took advantage of the man's lack of consciousness to begin cleaning out his wound and start sewing him back up. She'd hooked him to a pint of Type O negative, replenishing the massive amount of blood he'd lost on the base. His black pants were soaked with the stuff, glistening and slick. It was when she was sewing up his side that she realized that he'd been struck in the thigh as well; the fabric around the wound burnt to a crisp. Minerva instructed her assistant, a medical droid called BO-3, to cut off his pants and to remove his shoes to help with circulation.

The droid did as she asked, taking its bone saw and using it to cut the fabric with perfect precision. Before it rid him of the soiled cloth BO-3 went to his feet, removing his tall black boots with a slight yanking action. When the boots fell to the floor the droid took off his socks, and then in one fowl swoop whipped off his pants, leaving him to his dark grey undergarments, turned black at the waistband as it soaked up the drippings from his wound. His left leg was colored brown, the dried blood sticking to his skin and covering his hair like syrup. The area smelled of copper, reminding Minerva of the unnatural metal taste that came with losing a tooth or from sucking your thumb after a paper cut. He reeked of it.

The patient was unbelievably pale, and his full, pouting lips were painted a strange shade of blue. However, his vital signs looked good, and he seemed to be stabilizing. It wouldn't be long until he woke up again. Minerva took her time with the sutures, making sure to keep them high and tight. She wasn't looking forward to his screams when the pain finally hit him, nor the guilty feelings she would have for not hooking him up to some pain relief. She felt like she was killing him; like a nurse in distant history, when limbs were often amputated for no reason and the smallest illness could end someone's life. With all of this remarkable technology lying around her, what was she doing treating him this way?

This is ridiculous, she thought to herself. He'll be bedridden for weeks. I've already bruised him so much just by sewing him up. I have to give him something!

"You take so long with your sewing. Why don't you leave him to me?" asked BO-3, its green digital eyes blinking harshly as it floated over her shoulder. It's purely electronic voice droned on hatefully as it examined her work more closely. "I know," it said, "why not embroider a pillow? Even you can not kill them."

Minerva shut her eyes at the constant scrutiny that she'd received from her assistant since its arrival. She replied, "I'm not killing him. I stabilized him."

"Look at what you have done to the skin!" it exclaimed, shaking its swiveling head from side to side. "He will have a horrible scar."

She tied the ends of the thread into a knot and cut the rest free. "Of course he'll have a scar! Didn't you see the size of the wound?" As she got up from her stool and plopped the forceps into the sterilizing pan, she added with a hint of disbelief in her voice, "It's a miracle he's still alive."

The droid sarcastically agreed, "Yes, with you in charge of him. My systems can not believe that the general trusted you with this. You are going to kill the patient!"

Minerva flipped around to look at her assistant, eyes wide with stress. "General Hux told me not to give him anything for the pain! The supreme leader himself ordered it! Don't accuse me of starting this nonsense!" She began furiously wiping her forceps clean, the scent of the rubbing alcohol making her eyes water. Soon enough she was crying, overwhelmed and exhausted. She turned away from the droid's harsh gaze, fully aware that it was right. She felt so guilty.

"Look at you," spat BO-3, floating away from her to check the patient's vitals. "Do not think for a second that I have not been scanning your psyche. Your adrenaline levels are ridiculously high. You can not handle it. You do not deserve to be on the floor!"

With this, the little nurse snapped. "Get out! Stop examining me!" Shouted Minerva, pointing to the door. Her breathing was harsh and her hands were shaking; it was a wonder that she'd been able to sew him shut. She could feel the judgement radiating from the droid and began to tremble with rage. "What is this? This isn't a part of your programming, surely! Why are you saying these things to your superior? I'm just as qualified as a B level droid and you know it!"

The droid answered, "Because you are not allowing me to carry out my duties! One of which is to inform my superior when she is no longer needed." The angular grey droid floated towards the door as she commanded, but was obviously reluctant to leave. "The First Order created me to replace human medical teams. You are outdated technology, Nurse Caulder, and the Order has no room for it."

It left.

Minerva let out a sigh of relief as soon as the incredulous thing was out of earshot. The pressure that she felt with its perfect presence was horrifying for her self-esteem, especially since it could read how frightened she was. The whole day had gone to shit in a matter of minutes, and since then she'd never been able to shake the horrible feelings that clung to her. There were so many things to worry about. So many terrifying things she'd seen. She'd never felt so broken and alone.

Her patient let out a gurgled sigh, telling Minerva that he'd soon be awake. Her brown eyes shifted to a jar of bacta on the operating tray. He doesn't deserve to hurt like this, she thought. She grabbed the jar and looked around the room, making sure that no one could possibly be watching her. Unlike the medical bay, where all of the stormtroopers stayed, this was one of a few private rooms, reserved for high-ranking officials and members of the triumvirate, and so had no cameras or microphones anywhere in the space. Gathering her courage, she twisted off the lid of the jar, her clammy hands making it difficult to get a grip. As soon as it was opened, she set it back on the metal tray with a thud and put on another pair of plastic gloves, stretching them over her hands with a snap.

Taking two fingers, she dipped them into the jar and brought out a big greasy blob of the stuff. She'd always thought that bacta smelled and felt just like petroleum jelly, and as she spread it generously over the man's massive gash, she could see it already working wonders. His body, originally tense, visibly relaxed, and let out a sigh of relief. The redness died down almost instantly, and the tissue around her thread no longer had any threat of infection. After another few dips into the jar, and the whole wound was covered, she took off her gloves and returned it to the tray.

She watched as his breathing slowed, the urge to wake-up not so important now. Minerva couldn't help but smile from helping him, but knew that she had disobeyed orders. She quickly took the jar of bacta and hid it in the drawer by his bed, covering it with some of the fabric that had been cut away from his legs. She put the gloves in the biohazard box, immediately incinerating them.

After all of the evidence had been put away, she took a moment to look at her patient. He had such a long face, and a nose that was remarkably big and pronounced. His cheeks were flat and dotted with tiny brown moles, and his eyebrows were angled down rather frustratedly. It was a shame about the magnificent scar that stretched across the half of it. The bright red slash traveled down his neck and to his shoulder, which caused Minerva to look at the rest of him.

His shoulders were broad and lead into muscular arms, attached to big hands with fat thumbs. He was lean and rough, with white scars from other bouts and battles. His feet were very big and callused on the bottoms, and it looked like he'd possibly broken and rebroken his big toe from one time to another. His body seemed very lived in, and if Minerva hadn't known any better, she might have thought that he was oddly handsome. He was gargantuan and hauntingly masculine, and his body was almost too big for the bed. To her, he didn't look like the kind of person who wanted to die. His hair was too pretty.

In the elevator, he'd been ranting and raving about it, and about how if he died no one would miss him. She wondered how much of it he'd really meant. It was understandable that he would be upset; Starkiller Base had over 100,000 members on board at the time of the explosion, and if he had any friends, they were most certainly dead. In the past hour, no one else had made it onto Finalizer. Only the tiny family and their pilots could claim victory in that cruel fact. She pitied her patient, thinking of the friends she herself had most certainly lost.

Minerva was a part of the last graduating class of human nurses in the entire Order; trained aboard the mothership Perseverance alongside 17 other students. Medical droids had begun to replace the flawed and imperfect human attempts at care-giving, and even some of Minerva's own teachers were entirely robotic. The other students were like Minerva in the fact that they were all women, had influential fathers that could put them in the program, and were putting off the idea of marriage. The girls were lovely and dedicated and sweet. She'd loved them all, but one thing had always separated her from the rest, and that was uncertainty. Minerva was constantly questioning herself and her surroundings, always worrying whether she had made the right choice. The other girls followed orders blindly and faithfully, never once wondering whether or not the First Order really had their best interests at heart.

About a year ago now, Minerva and the others had graduated, and been assigned their stations. While most of the girls stayed on the mother ships to help with childbirth and elder care, a few had been sent to Starkiller Base, and, like Minerva, to star destroyers. The girls who'd been assigned Starkiller Base were honored, and the others were incredibly excited for them. All of them but Minerva. She questioned it like she questioned everything, and for once, she'd proven herself right. It was a suicide mission, and a harsh kind of justice.

Her instructor had told her that she'd been given the assignment of Finalizer because she thought she could handle it. That she could see the carnage of battle and think quickly enough to find a rational explanation for it. Boy, was she wrong, she told herself. Minerva looked out of the room's massive window to the debris from the base that was floating by. It made her nervous, and so, after checking to make sure the coast was clear, she took a thin silver bottle from her pocket and dumped out a handful of pills into her palm.

Without even a sip of water she swallowed three of the little blue tablets, hoping desperately that the valium would calm her down. She'd been taking them religiously for the past 3 months, and it was clear that she had become addicted to the numbing feeling. It was euphoric what the pills could do to her, and for a brief, precious moment, her thoughts weren't constantly clouded by those horrible images of death and destruction. After she got them down, she hid her face from her patient, as if he were awake to see her.

Of course she was ashamed, but not as much as she was afraid. Packing up her things, she decided to go and check on the young mother that was recuperating down the hall. They wouldn't know what she'd done. She rubbed her eyes and looked at her patient one last time. You didn't see anything, bud, she thought.

HOUR 1

1 KNOWN INFECTED

"It's radiation," shouted Dr. Bahli, locking the octagonal glass door from the inside. He was decked out in all sorts of gear, and holding up his gloved hands to keep everything else clean. His fingers and palms covered in some sort of fluid. "Don't come in here until you've put a suit on. This is the most potent stuff I've ever seen."

Minerva nodded and walked towards the remaining hazmat suit. She took off her heels and stepped into the boots, the electronic mesh of the suit zipping itself onto her body automatically. As soon as the hood had been connected and put into place, the suit turned on, pulling up the patient's file on her visor. Even though she was obviously reading it, Dr. Bahli shouted information to her from the operating room.

His voice could be heard in her hood, speakers placed right by her ears. He explained, through quick breaths, that, "there's nothing we can do to save her, I don't think. This is beyond me and the droids. I've never seen anything like it and they don't have any records of similar cases. It's fascinating."

Minerva quirked a brow at the doctor's strange enthusiasm about the patient's imminent death. She could feel herself frown at the thought of losing her, and wondered how her son would cope with losing his mother. "What happened to the boy and the pilots?" she asked, approaching the door. "Are they in quarantine?"

"Of course," he answered. "We found traces of radiation on them as well, but we're hoping that the treatment I've set up for them will clear it up. If they come down with anything like this poor woman here, I doubt they'll last the week."

Minerva sighed with disappointment, but tried not to focus on it. Turning her attention back to the woman's chart, she noticed something incredible. Shocked, she asked, "The baby's still alive?"

"Yes," he replied, releasing the lock on the door with his datapad. As he did so, the operating lobby was shut down to prevent the radiation from leaking out. As soon as the blast doors were lowered, Dr. Bahli let Minerva in, the smell almost knocking her down.

She let out an audible scream as the woman -or what had become of her- came into view. A red, bloated body covered in apple-sized lesions lay on the operating table, pus and other bodily fluids leaking from the sores. You could no longer see her face, and Minerva noticed that locks of her hair had fallen out onto the floor below. She had expanded out of her dress, and threatened to cover up the table if something wasn't done soon. Medical droids were attempting to ease the woman's pain by giving her an anesthetic, but it didn't seem to be working. You could hear her groaning from beneath the boils.

Minerva leaned against the wall and threw up in her suit, the smell combined with the disturbing image of the mother proving to be too much for her. Within a few seconds, however, her suit recognized and responded to the vomit, and vacuumed it out of the hood as best it could, leaving behind a greasy spot on her visor. Sliding down to the floor, she was desperate to catch her breath, but the stomach-churning stench of the body made her nauseous. Her vision was slipping, and the dizziness it caused made her want to vomit again, but a stern shake put an end to the idea.

"Get up, Miss Caulder!" Shouted Dr. Bahli, picking her up by the shoulders. "I need you!"

She looked at him through his mask and shook her head. "P-please don't make me. I'll be sick again." She shut her eyes when the woman entered her line of sight and let out a shaky sigh to steady herself. "Y-you don't want me. I can't do this!"

Dr. Bahli stared her down from behind his mask. "You can do this," he growled. "Do you know why?"

"Why?" She gagged.

"Because that baby needs your help. You can save its life!" he shouted, letting go of her. He turned and pointed to Lady Kurlish, the baggy sleeve of his hazmat suit crunching as he did so. "I've already prepared a tray for you. We're going to do a c-section. The boils have grown over her vagina, and I don't think that she has any feeling left in her lower half."

"What!?" cried Minerva, frightened by how foreign it all seemed. "How is that even possible!?"

The doctor took her by the wrist and pulled her towards the bloated body. Upon closer inspection, Minerva realized that she could see the blisters growing before her eyes, especially where her wound had originally been, along her side. Dr. Bahli breathed, "I think this is from the phantom energy we had harnessed inside Starkiller Base. The thermal oscillator transformed the energy through nuclear fission, thus creating the most powerful and direct atomic blast the galaxy has ever seen." He stared at her worriedly and added, "And this is the effect of that radiation."

He picked up the datapad to check on the progress the droids had made on putting the woman to sleep. He visibly relaxed, nodding approvingly at his metal assistants. "Thank the stars, she's under." he exclaimed, pushing the tray of tools towards his trembling nurse. "We must hurry. As soon as the baby is born we must rush it out of the room and into the safe zone by the operating lobby. Sure, it will be exposed, but we'll soon have it in a bacta tank. If all goes well, it should be fine."

Minerva shot him a scared glance, but if anything good could come out of this horrible situation, she was determined to make it happen. She picked up a scalpel and twirled it around in her hand, trying to give herself the courage to do her job. After letting out a shaky breath, she whispered, "I'll do the c-section, but please, promise me that... that you'll put this woman out of her misery." She looked him in the eye and asked, "There's nothing we can do, is there?"

The doctor shook his head. "No."

Minerva looked at the woman's massive stomach and swallowed. Hard. During all her years at the academy and the time she'd spent on this ship, she had never encountered something so appalling. But somewhere, deep down, she found the smallest bit of strength, and clung to it with feverish intensity. The valium was finally kicking in, and she swiftly found herself becoming oh so very, very numb. Empty almost. And without another word, she piloted her body to begin the procedure.

As she cleaned the mother's abdomen to prepare for the incision, Dr. Bahli mumbled, "If I remember correctly, this was your area of expertise, was it not?"

Candidly she recalled, "My fastest delivery time was 4 and a half minutes from cut to shut." As she grabbed the scalpel, she added jokingly, "I still don't know why Finalizer wanted a midwife."

Watching her slice the patient open, Dr. Bahli said, "Because a midwife can be just as tough as a doctor when the time calls for it." He looked at the woman's ruined face and stated, "Just like us you're there at the beginning and you're there at the end. And just like us you learn to forget the end to keep the beginning in sight."

As soon as the cut had been made in the lady's abdomen, Minerva paused to prepare herself. Streams of pus and blood trickled into the cut and onto her exposed muscle, which she immediately suctioned out. She shouted sternly over the sounds of the vacuum to Dr. Bahli, "It will take me a moment to cut through the layers of tissue and to move the bladder out of the way, so please, keep the area clean. And I'll need the droids to come round with forceps when I reach the baby's head."

"Of course," he replied, nodding to his assistants. The droids hovered away from the table in search of new tools, abandoning their original task of saving the patient's life. All attention was turned towards the baby, whose image appeared on the screen next to the mother's heartbeat and blood pressure. It was at a good angle, but Minerva knew she needed to hurry. At the bottom of the screen was the baby's heartbeat, which was slowing by the second.

The valium caused her a bit of dizziness as she returned her focus to the incision, and her own heart rate was questionable, but even in this drug induced false calm, she felt better than she did fully sober in this little metal world. The things that loomed over her had backed off, giving her room to breathe. As soon as the droids were in position beside her, she began the procedure.

Slicing through the muscle, she found the bladder, pushing it down and out of the way with a forcep provided by a droid. She placed it between the lining of the woman's womb and the top of the organ, pulling it and her cut away muscle out of the work space. Expanding the opening to prepare for the baby, Minerva began gently slicing through the exterior of the womb. Careful not to cut the baby's head, she moved the tissue out of the way with her gloved fingers. She grazed over the baby's slicked back bits of hair and motioned to the droids.

"Place a forcep on either side of its head," she told them. "Once you have a firm but gentle grip on it, slowly pull it out. I need to check and see if the umbilical cord has wrapped around its neck."

They did as she asked, pulling up information on a proper delivery from their databanks. Slowly, they inserted the forceps, separating the baby and bringing it forward. As soon as it's little pink face was visible, Minerva felt around its neck with her fingers, giving the droids the ok. Grabbing the tiny thing by its shoulders, Minerva pulled the baby into the world, the poor thing already squirming and desperate to cry. Laying it on the tray, she took an aspirator and stuck it down its throat, clearing out all of the liquid and mucus from the lungs. She quickly placed it in its nose too, making sure that the little thing could breathe. The baby let out a loud cry, letting everyone know that they'd made it.

As she continued to quickly go through the familiar processes, a smile spread across Minerva's face. She hadn't delivered a baby since the academy, but had never forgotten the joy of meeting a new and precious life. She turned to Dr. Bahli and hurriedly announced, "It's a girl!"

"Go!" shouted the doctor. "Get her out of here and into a bacta tank as soon as possible. There's one waiting in 2-18."

Lovingly she wrapped the baby girl in a towel; a squirming, screaming bundle full of life. Beautiful, innocent life. She ran out of the operating room with her, holding her to the chest of her massive hazmat suit.

Over the next few hours, Minerva did as commanded, saving the baby from the radiation that killed her mother. She sat there beside her bassinet for a moment and held her, knowing that it was what the woman would have wanted, despite never having spoken a word.

HOUR 5

2 KNOWN INFECTED

After being granted an hour to shower and eat, Minerva felt dramatically better. She had washed off the stench of sweat and vomit from the previous 27 hours of her 48 hour shift, and was even able to grab a piece of flatbread from the cafeteria before First Meal, skipping the long line of troopers waiting for breakfast. Although she was tired, the memory of the newborn baby girl brought a grin that stuck with her all the way back from the mess hall. Even after all of that destruction, a new and beautiful life had come from the wreckage.

When she returned to the medical bay, she checked her charts and grabbed her datapad, wanting to check on her mystery man's progress. Propping the thin plastic clipboard under her arm, she walked down the hallway to the private rooms. She opened his door as quietly as she could, not sure if he was still sleeping. Sure enough, he was, and his mouth was open just a sliver as he barely uttered a snore. He was exhausted.

She walked in and placed her datapad on a tray, making her way to get a look at all of the machines she'd plugged him up to. Everything looked great, and she gave the sleeping man a thumbs up. Moving the sheet that the droid had brought for him away from his chest, she peeked down at her sutures. The bacta had worked wonderfully, and soon she would be able to take them out, a week's worth of healing done in as little as 5 or 6 hours. Tucking him back in, she grabbed his chart to update his status. Pulling up a chair that was close to his bed, Minerva took out her pen and began to scribble.

When that was done, she sat there and folded her hands, looking off into space as she thought about her day. It felt wonderful to sit down. Within a few minutes however, she slowly began to drift off to sleep herself, and pretty soon she had dozed off without difficulty for the first time in weeks. Sleep welcomed her like a long lost friend, and enveloped her with relief. There was no use trying to fight it, as her body needed it desperately. She sat in a slump, dead to the world.

About thirty minutes later, BO-3 hovered into the room, and as soon as it saw the nurse sleeping on duty, it threw a fit. It spoke on high volume that, "Nurse Caulder has no right to be sleeping. Your shift is over in 20 hours, 17 minutes, and 32 seconds. Remove yourself from the patient's room immediately! This is a private r-"

Crash!

The medical droid flew into the wall with a bang, denting it's head and cracking the pole that acted as its neck. Before it fell to the ground however, it then proceeded to fly, as if pushed, into the ceiling, then violently into the floor. Sparks flew from the cracks in its metal outsides, and it began to squirm. With a strange screeching sound, it finally gave up the ghost, the light behind its eyes shorting out. Minerva stared at it in shock, unsure of what had just happened, but when a hand came into her peripheral vision, she flipped her head around to look.

It was the patient, and he was awake. His sculpted arm was stuck out straight, a vein popping out of his forearm forcefully as his hand closed into a fist. Panting, he let the limb drop back onto his chest, the blood transfusion obviously still taking a toll on him from earlier.

"Annoying little shit," he whispered.

Minerva looked at him with astonishment. "Did you do that?" she asked, sitting up straight in her chair. When he didn't respond, she stood up and made her way over to the droid. She knelt down beside her old assistant and pushed it onto its chest. Upon closer examination, she realized that its processor appeared to have been squeezed in half. She turned around to look at her patient again, but this time she asked a different question. Suddenly, it all made since.

"Are you Kylo Ren?"

Images of the shadowy figure that stormed down the halls of this ship like a beast surfaced in her mind. His horrendous reputation and terrifying presence had terrified Minerva in the past, but seeing the man unmasked and in such a fragile condition almost made her want to pinch his cheek. He reminded her of a puppy, acting scary because he didn't understand that he wasn't. He was tall, dark, and handsome. Not vicious, fearsome, and mean.

Kylo Ren looked at her with sad eyes, the massive scar on his face adding to his defeated look. He was obviously in pain from it, as he barely even moved to breathe, and the scarring on his shoulder and chest was extremely sensitive. Wincing, he groaned, "That's what they call me."

As if meeting a celebrity, Minerva stumbled over her words. "Do y-you need... an-anything, sir? Some water maybe?" She flipped around to grab a cup for him. "Let me, um, get you something to-"

A glass of water floated from the tray in front of her and into his hand. She blinked in disbelief at his abilities, but at the same time found herself fascinated. She watched as he pressed the glass to his lips and drank every last drop of the liquid inside it, his adam's apple dancing up and down his throat. When he was finished, he tossed the empty cup to her, Minerva almost dropping it several times before getting a grasp on it. "Fill that up and then leave." he said.

Blushing from embarrassment, she walked into his bathroom unit with the pitcher and cup, stopping at the sink for the water. As she filled it up, she looked at herself in the mirror. In the fluorescent lighting she looked as if she were on the verge of tears, and the short brown curls that usually stopped at her chin had frizzed up to the bottoms of her ears. She left as soon as the pitcher was full, not wanting to be reminded of her insecurities any longer. Even after a blood transfusion Kylo Ren still looked like a prince. She sighed. With both hands, she placed the pitcher on his tray and moved it beside his bed.

For a moment, she just stood there, but it was obvious that he was ready for her to go. Remembering the somber things he had said to her on the elevator, she couldn't help but to wonder about him. Staring at him with a worried expression, she mumbled, hesitantly, "Lord Ren?"

Without even glancing up at her, he sighed and rubbed his eyes. "I told you to go." he replied.

After that, she decided not to bring up his slightly suicidal thoughts from earlier. Quickly thinking of something else to talk about, she wrung her hands and asked, "Would you like something for your shoulder? I brought you a tube of Snot Garlic paste to soothe the burning feeling." She reached into her pocket and held it up to him. "Now, it might smell a bit different, but you'll at least be able to move your right arm."

He frowned. "Snot Garlic paste?"

Excited by his interest in the product, she went ahead and moved to his right, moving her chair out of the way. Twisting off the cap, she said, "Yes, sir. It works wonders on burns, though it does have a strange consistency." She held the tube tightly in her little hand and smiled hopefully. "I would be more than willing to spread some on for you."

Ren looked at her with such intense disdain, but thought that maybe if he went through with it he would get her off of his back. There wasn't anything worse than a smiling little cherub faced girl to come around and ruin his day. Just looking at her made him so confused. What could she possibly be smiling for? Didn't she understand who he was? I flung that droid around like a rag-doll, he thought to himself, as if he had missed a step somewhere along the line. Why isn't she running away?

He cleared his throat and gave her a look. "Do it, then." he mumbled, breaking eye contact.

Minerva gave him a bright smile as a warm pink glow spread over her cheeks. Perhaps, he preferred her to the droid. What a flattering idea. She pulled up her thin metal chair and instructed him to, "Sit up, please. I'll get your back first to get that out of the way." Excitedly almost, she squeezed some of the yellow paste into the palm of her hand and grinned.

Ren did as she said, leaning forward slowly, the feeling of his skin stretching making his eyes water. Staring at the wall, the sudden appearance of the paste on his shoulder made him visibly relax. Somehow it was strangely cooling, and despite the prevalent stench of garlic, it felt remarkable. Her small hands made quick circles over the lightsaber wound, reaching every crevice of the uneven burn. She turned around and got another handful of the stuff, telling him that he could lay down. As he laid back against the flat pillow, she placed a hand on his arm as she worked the paste down it, her thumb in the crack of his elbow.

As she massaged him, he looked at her face. She was focused, and a few of her brown curls had fallen into her eyes. "What's your name?" he asked, curious about the woman who seemed so determined to keep him alive.

Caught by surprise from the question, she blinked a few times before she replied, "Minerva. Minerva Caulder." She smiled at him sweetly, like she did all of her patients, and stuck her hand in his. Squeezing it, she added, "It's an honor to serve you, sir."

Before he could react she had stood back up, leaning over him to reach the burn on his chest. With her directly on top of him, he couldn't help but look at the buttons on her shirt, which had spread open just enough to see the curvature of her breast. He didn't look away. Noticing where his gaze was directed, Minerva hurried with the bit on his chest, backing off of him and turning away to put the lid back on the tube.

Just as she was about to say something, a familiar voice came over the intercom. "Minerva." it said, sounding rather sad.

"Y-yes?" she replied, looking up at the ceiling. "What is it Dr. Bhali?"

"Please, come to the operating lobby. The baby girl is dead. She didn't make it."

Minerva froze.

"What!? What do you mean?" she shouted. "I put her in the bacta tank just as you said!"

He hesitated before he bluntly said, "Well, it didn't work. I found her with the boils a few minutes ago and just decided that it was best to put her to sleep before they spread to the face."

She covered her mouth to muffle a scream. Picturing the poor baby going through the same process as her mother caused her mind to practically split in half with grief. Wracked with sadness and disbelief, she immediately burst into tears. "I'm... I'm coming!" she sobbed, grabbing her things and wiping the remaining garlic paste onto her dress furiously. "Damn it! Damn it, Dr. Bhali, damn it! No!"

Dr. Bhali didn't respond, and instead turned off the intercom. Kylo Ren watched her attentively, but mumbled too late, "I'm sorry."

She had already run away.

Hey everybody! So, what did you think of this chapter? Please let me know by writing a review! I love to hear back from my readers so that I can know what I'm doing right, what I'm doing wrong, and what you think of the story so far! Thank you so much for stopping by to read my little tale, and thank you 10,000 times for following and favoriting it! That's so cool of you! Thanks again for everything! Expect another chapter soon! Love ya!

- Molly