Chapter 51

Cheers and enjoy. Last edited August 25th, 2017.

Chère Megadol was a petite blonde woman with perfect skin and impeccable taste in clothing. She sat on a small stool, her back perfectly straight, her ankles crossed as she wrote on a little table to her left. A lefty. Torian watched her write something on her datapad, while he leaned on his left side, fingers holding up his head, his middle finger on the bridge of his nose while his index finger rested along his brow bone. She finished what she was doing and her hands came to rest light as feathers in her lap. She smiled at Torian.

He noted how the edges of her eyes were untouched by the smile on her face. Insincere.

"It is a pleasure to meet you, Mr. Caderra."

"Please-"Torian began, his lips hard to work on his left side, but he made the effort and forced himself. "Just Torian."

She nodded curtly. "As you wish," she paused as a little crease appeared between her delicate arched brows. "Torian."

Torian nodded and straightened up as best as his weak left side would let him. "Who're you?"

"My name is Chère Megadol, I am sure you are acquainted with my father?"

Torian nodded. "Yea."

Chère. "I do not however believe anyone has told you why am I here, is that correct?"

Torian nodded again. "It is."

Chère took a deep breath. "There is no gentle way to say this, so allow me to be blunt. I am a counsellor and recovery therapist."

Torian's body pulled away from Chère as far as he could in his levi-chair. "Ah."

She smiled again at Torian. "I feared you might react that way."

Torian blinked. "Yea? Why?"

Chère continued to smile. Torian was starting to feel like smiling was her default setting.

"Simply put, you're not my first Mandalorian patient."

Torain frowned at that. "Really?"

Chère's smile reached her eyes as she managed to distract Torian from his discomfort with curiosity. "Yes, though I cannot go into specifics. Patient confidentiality."

Torian settled back into his levi-chair, only realizing now that he had leaned forward with his question. He nodded. "Oh."

Chère took his neutrality as a good thing. "That applies to you as well, you know?"

Torian shrugged. "Won't have much to tell."

Chère frowned. "I hope quite the opposite."

Chère rose to her dainty little feet, each step accentuated with the heels she wore, which did nothing to make her seem any taller. She was just the word 'petite' personified. She went to Torian's left side and pulled a little flashlight from her lab coat pocket. She began to flash it in his eye, going from the edges to the center from both sides. At first, Torian flinched away from her, but when she never touched him and performed routine checks that Mako often did as well, he relaxed and let her do as she pleased.

"Mako let me read the details of your recovery. How severe was the Aphasia at the beginning(1)?"

Torian shrugged. "Bad."

Chère nodded. "On a scale from one to ten, one being unremarkable and ten being unbearable, how much pain are you in right now? And please be honest, I am also here to aid with the physical rehabilitation."

Torian frowned but sighed. "Six. Seven to eight in the morning."

Chère nodded. "May I touch you?"

Torian's eyes narrowed and his right hand clenched into a fist. His nod was a single short movement. Chère only touched him once his permission had been given and her palpations of his left side were quick and kept to the essentials she needed. She returned to her datapad and began taking notes.

"When patients have treatments like the one you have been through, often the cartilage does not keep pace with the rest of the tissue as it is grown. Cartilage does not have direct sources of blood to help sustain it. As a result, patients are often moving around without the treatment being truly complete. How long were you canted for in the Kolto tank?"

Torian took a moment to count. "A week induced coma, three weeks conscious or sleeping."

Chère nodded, noted and put the pad away. She sat back on her stool. "A lot of your discomfort is due to the lack of cushioning. The cartilage will take another month or so to fully set in and offer support for your bones and joints. As a result, your joints are grinding and your nerves are subjected to undue pressure."

Torian groaned. "Another month?"

Chère's smile was now pressed. "Yes, another month, and then for a month after that you will have to go through corrective micro-treatments to affected areas. You will be as good as new. However, when such a large area of the body is affected, sadly, healing takes time."

Torian growled and his right fist clenched and released over and over again. Chère watched and nodded. "Going stir crazy?"

Torian glared at her. "You have no idea."

Chère chuckled. "I am sure that I do not." She placed her hands on her lap again, fingers intertwined and cupping her knees. "What would you do normally when frustrated?"

Torian leveled his glare at her but remained silent. For a while that was all he did. Chère continued to smile and waited patiently. After several minutes of silent glaring, Torian had to admit that Chère was not going to wither under his anger. He growled and looked away.

"I understand that you are frustrated, Torian. I do not mean to aggravate you, I am just trying to get to know you."

"Don't want you to."

Chère did not respond for a time to Torian's retort. She pulled back her datapad and took a few more notes. "Torian," she began as she wrote. "Whether you like it or not, your injuries were extensive." Chère looked Torian in the eyes. "Injuries like that leave nasty scars, and you already have quite the collection of psychological scars, all Mandalorians do."

Torian looked away.

"You may choose to spend our entire time together in silence, but I urge you to consider the value to you and to your relationship with the crew of the Mantis in trying to mend both the physical and psychological wounds you harbor."

Torian glanced at Chère. She looked directly at him, heart shaped face, delicate features and piercing green eyes framed in oversized glasses. "Those wounds are not going anywhere, and the longer they fester, the worse their effect on your life will be."

The timer went off.

1 .Aphasia is a communication disorder that results from damage or injury to language parts of the brain.