To Memily's relief, the soldier's vitals were balancing out and he had fallen into a healthy slumber. She allowed herself a long breath. He would make it.
She crossed the room to check on his friends. The other women had fallen asleep, but Memily didn't mind the added responsibility. Her mind was more stuck in the mindset that it would make a great distraction. The death of the general and other soldiers weighed heavily on her. She didn't know what to make of the thought that she had managed to save just one life in the time that four others died. The insightful, encouraging sentiments of her mother had soothed only a fraction of the guilt she felt. The rest was set on eating her alive.
Memily was just finishing her check-up on another patient when she heard a long groan from behind her. She turned and saw that her own patient was very much awake and trying to sit up in bed. "Lie back down!" she scorned him quietly but urgently, hurrying back to his side, one hand reaching for the medical equipment at her neck. "Please," she insisted more gently, pushing back down with two fingers to his collar bone. "You were shot and you're still healing. Please relax and stay lying down."
The young man groaned again but obeyed. Simultaneously, he seemed to be surveying his own body with a quick glance until he located the source of his pain in his arm. "Here?" he asked.
"Yes." Memily had saved the dart in a baggy and she retrieved it from the counter to show him. "With a poison dart. You're pretty lucky." She handed him the bag. "I thought you might appreciate a souvenir."
"Well, I'll certainly have to add it to my shelf."
"How are you feeling?"
"Just swell!" He beamed. "Like I could take on the Chiss military myself."
"You certainly don't look like it." Memily found her rolling stool and sat at his bedside. The man, suddenly uninterested in his own health, was now watching her. His eyes flew straight to hers and Memily could now see that he had a pair of eyes green and blue like the sea with a strong sense of the sea's calming waves. "Why, helloooo, nurse!"
Memily flashed a disapproving smile and shook her head. "Actually, I'm a qualified doctor. And you need to rest."
"Oh, I'm not tired. I just woke up from a really long nap."
"I know. I was here."
He laughed. "You were watching me?"
"Keep dreaming, hot shot. Now, may I ask you for a name? I need to write a report on you for the records."
"Only if I get your name first. I need it. So I can remember."
Alright, pretty boy. Wanna' flirt? "Solo," she told him.
He frowned. "That can't be your first name."
"Oh! You wanted my first name?"
"Alright, nurse. I'll be a gentleman." He brought up a hand to his chest and told her, "My name is Louka. I'm twenty-five, single, and desperate for some company. How about you?"
"I'm sorry, , but I'm not interested in having a relationship right now."
"So, you're single too!"
"You don't give up, do you?"
"No. No, I do not, Miss Solo. Louka Noal, happy to make your acquaintance."
"Doctor Memily Solo. Your doctor," she stressed.
"Fine, fine. I get it. No flirting.
"Mr. Noal, I run the only certified medcenter on New Alderaan, so I take my work very seriously. If this were one of thousands of medcenters on New Alderaan, I would still take my make critically. I'm not here to have a good time nor am I here to make out with my patients. If that is just unbearable for you, I'd be happy to ship you to a Coruscanti facility free of charge. It's your choice."
He raised his arms in mock surrender, smiling like he was entertained. "My apologies, Miss Memily."
"Solo."
"Doctor Solo. Hey, that isn't an Alderaanian name."
"That would be because my father is Corellian. How does your arm feel?"
"Fine. Just fine, thank you very much, Doctor. Did you grow up on Corellia?"
"Is this more flirting?"
"No. I'm just being conversational."
"Less talking, soldier boy, please. Do you feel any tingling in your arm?"
"No, none at all. You must have done a real great job."
"That's it," Memily huffed, jumping from her chair and snapping off her gloves. She turned around and began to stride away. "One of my nurses will be attending to you shortly." She stopped herself. "Oh, and, by the way, this one is married. And in her sixties. Unless you're into that sort of thing."
"Alright, alright! Hang on! What about my friends?"
Memily turned back around to look at him. Gone was his joking mood, suddenly replaced with a solemnity that could not be faked. Genuine concern plagued his features and, at once, Memily's chest flooded with sympathy. "Your troop, I assume you mean?"
He nodded.
Her gaze, against her will, fell to the floor. "I'm sorry," she said softly, "but we lost four of your men." Once the words were out, she forced herself to look back to him. His look was pained, heartbroken, fearful, but he nodded once. "Which ones?"
She glanced over her shoulder to the unmoving bodies hidden under white sheets across the room. "The general is the only one I knew. I don't know if the other nurses identified the others yet or not. I'm sorry." Tears filled her eyes and her chest ached as she tried to hold back a sob. She looked away from the injured man in the bunk before her but he spoke to her with a voice so gentle and warm despite everything. "Hey. A-are you crying? Oh, stars, please don't cry."
"I'm sorry, sir," she murmured, her voice breaking, cracking against the effort of trying to retain her own sobs. "We did- we did-"
"Everything you could, I'm sure. I'm thankful for that much." He sighed, growing quiet. Meanwhile, Memily could no longer stifle her tears and she wept softly in front of him. "We all knew we were dead before we went out there. We knew before we left our homes, knew when we signed up. We were dead, destined for a gruesome death. We had it coming."
"Then, why become a soldier?"
The man looked at her and told her as if it were the most simple thing, "Because New Alderaan is defenseless. Just like Alderaan was. But what happened to Alderaan cannot happen to our new home. As long as I'm alive, I won't let New Alderaan be defenseless. I'll keep fighting for our home until they kill me. Every soldier in New Alderaan's ranks will. Otherwise, what's the point? We're here to keep Aldera alive."
"The heart of Alderaan," Memily swallowed.
"Alderaan's heart and soul. Hey, isn't that why you're here? You're a medic, the true unsung heroes of New Alderaan."
"That's very kind of you to say."
"You're the ones that keep the rest of us alive."
"I am sorry about your friends."
"It's alright. Thank you for saving the rest."
"You're … welcome."
"But really. Medics are here to save lives."
Memily smiled. "My older siblings were all warriors. So, it was what my family expected of me. But I saw what it's like to be a warrior. I admire my older sister for all the good she's done the galaxy, but I don't think I could do the same. I couldn't fight. I'm more interested in saving lives."
"Warriors save lives."
"Yes, they do. But they are forced to save lives with more blood. While it might be necessary, I couldn't handle being the one to bring about the bloodshed. I'm too much of a pacifist."
"There isn't anything wrong with that. The galaxy needs medics."
"And the galaxy needs warriors like you."
