"Working here's okay, right?" Tyro asked uncertainly as Ainya lead the way to a room at the back of the medbay. The air of the place made him somewhat uncomfortable. It was so...sterile. Compared to everywhere he was used to on Coruscant, even after three years of the war this ship was so new.
"Yeah, for stuff like this I'm pretty sure. Besides you're going to want to have a clean environment to be making this in. Let me go double-check with someone though." Ainya disappeared around the corner before Tyro could say anything else.
Tar set the box down on the countertop with a sigh, stretching his arms out. "So, you ever done this before?"
"No, not exactly," mused Tyro, flicking through pages on the datapad as he spoke. "But like I said earlier, experience with mechanics helps. And this kind of stuff is pretty well documented."
Tar let out a huff then was silent.
"Tar…" Sparks started, knowing the look on his friend's face all too well.
"How can you be so sure it's going to work if you've never done it before?"
Tyro looked over at Tar, surprised, trying to wrap his head around the logic of what Tar had just said. "I don't but I have a good idea? I mean, you showed me how to assemble a deecee earlier, and I didn't know that before."
"But that was different, there's a right way to assemble a deecee and one of us knew how already," Tar shot back.
Tyro listened, thinking. It didn't make a lot of sense to him at first thought, but from what he knew clone troopers were trained entirely differently than Jedi. He, Tracks, Sparks, and Tar had all shared the experience of being injured after Loronar, and had grown close through that but they couldn't have come from more different backgrounds. As a Jedi he was allowed to explore, to come up with new ideas, try them out. It was encouraged. The troopers seemed to be so much more...structured. So different than his friends in the Jedi order, on Coruscant.
Tar picked up on the hesitation. "You can't do it, can you?"
"No, I just think we should try, because if we don't, what else has Tracks got?" Tyro said confidently.
"Kind of sounding like a Commander now aren't ya?" Sparks teased, elbowing Tyro. "I shouldn't kid though, it's a good thing." Sparks turned to Tar then, placing a hand on his shoulder. "In all seriousness, Tyro's got a point."
"I just…I just want it to be right," Tar admitted with a sigh. "I know it's all we've got and I don't want to mess it up. Sorry Tyro, I just get defensive."
Tyro shrugged, smiling. "Now if we were making an autocannon-blaster-leg that's a whole other story, you saw me with that deecee."
"You can do that?" Tar jumped in excitedly, eyes wide.
"Knock it off Tyro you're giving him ideas," grinned Sparks, playfully punching Tar in the arm.
"Who needs ideas when you can to this?" Tar challenged, grabbing Sparks wrist and twisting his arm into a hold with a devious grin.
"Or..." Tyro started.
"What, you want in?" Sparks challenged, craning his neck around from the rather uncomfortable position Tar had him in.
"I'm not gonna try to take you, I'm easily twice your size, it wouldn't even be fair," Tar protested mockingly.
"It wouldn't be now?" With a grin and a twist of his wrist Tyro wrapped the force around both of them, lifting them into the air.
They both stopped, Tar letting go of Sparks, and stared wide-eyed a moment at Tyro before bursting into laughter.
"What are you doing in my Medbay?"
Tyro jumped at the voice, spinning around quickly to lock eyes with none other than Dr Bedside Manner himself. Quickly but gently he put Tar and Sparks down. Ainya was standing right behind him, covering her mouth with the end of her black ponytail, trying not to laugh.
The surgeon seemed to expect an answer. Tyro bit back the urge to tell him that it was technically the Republic's medbay and there were at least twelve other surgeons here, but he doubted that would win him any points and Tracks was more important. "We were constructing a cybernetic prosthetic, Sir...Doctor…"
"Doctor M'hajl, I believe you mentioned you had some prior knowledge in this area?" Ainya suggested.
Tyro watched in awe as the man's face softened just the slightest bit. "There are official specifications to follow, and you'll need the patient's consent," was his stoic reply. But what the man said next surprised Tyro. "I haven't done this since before the war," there was excitement in his words, it was tangible. "It's about damn time we changed that."
Tyro nodded.
"I'll go get you the documentation I have. Ainya, you will probably be able to understand most of it. I have work to do but find me if you run into any problems." With that the surgeon turned succinctly and left the room.
Tyro just stared. He had expected the guy would chew him out, not offer help. Granted, now that he thought about it the surgeon had always kind of done both. The guy really fought for his patients, the fact Tyro was even alive was proof of that. Well, that and he seemed to really be into his job.
"Well, what are you guys waiting for?" Ainya teased, pushing her way into the room.
All in all it took around two and half days to finish building the cybernetic prosthetic, with Ainya doing most of the work. Tyro had known she knew a lot, but he had no idea she had done so much work with mechanics and programming.
"My parents owned the local droid repair business, so I grew up working for it. You get pretty good at this stuff when you do it your whole life. When the war came around though I wanted to help, what with my sister out there and all that, and figured it was time for a change of pace," she explained with determination and pride when he brought it up. She was driven, focused. Watching her work was fascinating, if he ever thought he was good at this stuff, it was nothing compared to how naturally she handled this.
Her explanation stayed with him though. Tyro had never really thought about being anything other than a Jedi, and even in this war, which was so different from anything he had done before, he couldn't imagine doing anything else. Was there something, anything that could convince him to take another path? He spent a while thinking on it, but still drew a blank. The best he came up with though is it would take a lot of courage and strength of will, and for that he admired Ainya, and anyone else who had uprooted their lives for this.
That left those who never had a choice. Tyro made his way down the corridor past the rows of hospital beds, most of which were empty by now. He hadn't really spoken to Tracks much in the last few days, though he knew the others had. As much as he had wanted to say something, he was not Gavyn. He did not have that kind of wisdom, or insight or charisma. He was good at some things, chatting with friends, standing up for something he believed in, but he had no idea how to relate to Tracks right now.
Tyro slowed as he approached the bed where his friend sat staring off into the distance. "Have you decided?" He asked simply, never being one for small talk.
"I'm tired," Tracks sighed.
Tyro opened his mouth to respond only to realize he did not know what to say. He had talked to Tracks about this before, said everything he could think of on the subject. About how it was the right thing, that he couldn't give up, and all that other idealistic stuff that came to mind, stuff that would inspire Tyro, but Tracks was not an idealist. Nor was he an optimist, like Sparks. He wasn't excited about life and adventure like Tar. Tracks was, Tyro thought for a moment, a realist.
"Well," Tyro started again, taking a deep breath and choosing his words carefully, "you know what the procedure entails, risks, complications, everything. We have good tech and staff here so decreases any risk." That covered that but what came after...recovery, he could be worried about that.
Tyro looked down, remembering how painful and frustrating and embarrassing it had been learning how to walk again. "And well, you saw what it was like trying to walk after taking a blaster bolt to each leg, two surgeries, and being in bed for over a week. I'm sure it will be different for you, but at least you have an idea."
Tracks had borne witness to all of it in their shared quarters. He had heard Tyro's protests against the exercises, seen the pain in each step, the humiliation every time he stumbled and how the physical therapist or Gavyn had had to hold onto him like he was a toddler, how exhausted he was when they were done but…"you also saw how it got better even when I didn't. You fought back with statistics and realities every time I tried to complain. What was it you said when I asked what if it never did get better? That'd I'd just learn to deal with it." Tyro could have sworn he caught a slight smile from Tracks at the memory. "But you knew what was up. And I know you've done your research now on what is ahead. You take calculated risks, anticipate for what one might run into, that's always been your job, so in your professional opinion, considering that you have the team, the technology, and the support all lined up for it, is this worth it?"
It was difficult to cut himself off there, to not say anything else, but he knew that Tracks didn't want to hear anything else. As Gavyn had told him before, Don't oversell it. It had not been a great speech, nothing that would be written down and committed to the history texts, nothing like what Gavyn could have said, but perhaps it just might work.
Tracks looked Tyro in the eyes for the first time since he had returned from Hapes, and then he smiled. "Well Commander, in my professional opinion, yes. Yes it is worth the risk."
There was nothing else that needed to be said. Tyro grinned back, and with a bow dismissed himself in order to let Dr. M'hajl do his work.
The next eight hours were spent waiting with Sparks, Tar, and Ainya. Time had never felt so slow. Tyro tried sitting, standing, pacing, reading, coding, anything, and after what felt like an hour he looked at the chrono to see that only ten minutes had passed.
"They'll tell us if something happens, right?" Tyro finally broke the silence to ask Ainya. She knew about this stuff.
"Sometimes," she offered unhelpfully.
"This was a good idea, right? I mean, I didn't convince him to do something he shouldn't have done right?" Tyro asked as the sudden possibility hit him. Tracks hadn't wanted to go through with this initially, there was probably a good reason…
"It was a good idea, you did the right thing, we did a good job with that leg, and now Dr. M'hajl is doing everything he can," Ainya acknowledged. Tyro's expression remained unchanged. With a light sigh and a slight smile Ainya gave him a teasing nudge before standing up and heading across the room to rifle through the supply cabinet.
Tyro waited patiently for another half minute before the frustration built up again. "Is this what it always feels like? Telling someone that they should do something and knowing it might end badly? Being responsible for other people?" Was this how Gavyn felt when Tyro had been hurt? Was this what it felt like whenever someone had to command or lead others?
"I don't know, I'm just a nurse," Ainya voiced lightly.
"Or a droid repair and software specialist," Sparks amended her statement.
"Either way, none of us are commanders or anything fancy, just friends and fellow soldiers," Tar grinned, knocking Tyro forward with a strong pat on the back.
"You're a jerk. All of you," Tyro sulked, only half joking.
"Well if that's the case," Ainya turned back around holding a box, "I heard you're good at holochess, so what do you say, you versus the three-headed-jerk? Think you can beat all of us?"
"Easily," Tyro replied with confidence.
A/N: Thank you so much for reading! We'd love to hear any feedback about what you liked/disliked, the characters, or what you would like to see more of! :)
We'll have the next story up soon-
Look forward to an ice planet, a search and rescue operation, and a side of Gavyn that leaves his apprentice questioning if this master is no different than his last, as Tyro takes on his first solo mission as a Commander of the 122nd.