OOC:

I am looking to write my specialty, then come active later.

Chapter 1: First Aid
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Private First Class Bacardi
Current Status: Aboard the Tyranny

The dimly lit Lambda-Class Shuttle Tyranny glided over the grassy surface of Tadath, inside of the Tyranny sat Private First Class Andar "Cursed" Bacardi. Looking around the shuttle Cursed couldn't see any other inhabitants except for the two pilots and a guard. Today he was going to get his medical training, something he had been wanting to do for as long as he could remember-save lives. Cursed could feel the pressure kicking in as the Tyranny began to drop closer to the ground, he was nearing his training center.

"Private First Class Bacardi, once this shuttle lands I, and a group of other Stormtroopers will escort you to your training facility. We will stay in the facility to help with training and such. Do you understand?" The trooper's blaster pistol stuck out from his holster, no wonder this Stormtrooper was on a shuttle escorting a Private to a training area, if he was stupid enough to leave his blaster holster unhooked then no one knew what he could be stupid enough to do.

"I do," Cursed said as the shuttle landed. The trooper flung forward a bit and then began walking out of the shuttle. Cursed got up as well, keeping his DC-15s Blaster Pistol at his side he began to walk towards the trooper. The trooper then typed in a code to a wall panel and the exit ramp flung open, the ramp began to slide down and the trooper got out, followed by Cursed. A group of seven Stormtroopers surrounded the landing pad that they had landed on, and they began to usher Cursed closer to the door.

"New Recruit?" One of the troopers that was escorting Cursed muttered to another trooper. Cursed then showed a huge smirk, and began to walk a little faster.

"Yeah, we are taking him to Med Lab Z-9-1." Another trooper replied, and they began to move on in silence. Exiting the landing pad and through a pair of double sliding doors, Cursed looked around as he went through the hallway that was going to connect him to his Training Facility. He began to think of how vast this place actually was, probably mainly underground. The nine members of the Vast Empire Stormtrooper Corps approached a door, and it immediately slid open. Cursed walked in once he noticed the sign that read: Medical Laboratory Z91 above the door.

"Welcome to Medical Training Laboratory Zeta Ninety One, I am D-3PO Human to Cyborg relations. Professor Zatic will be in shortly, while you are waiting would you like a beverage?" The 3PO-model droid asked Cursed, and Cursed wondered why an Imperial Droid had such great manners. Cursed began to think of what beverage he wanted, and the first things that popped into his mind was alcohol.

"May I please have a glass of Dingra, and can you make it 50 degrees please." Cursed spoke to the droid almost as if it was human, he had chosen a non-alcoholic drink that is easily made. Founded on the planet Sealth it had become Bacardi's favorite non-alcoholic drink. The 3PO droid then waddled off, and Cursed sat in one of the fifty chairs that littered the room. Pulling out his datapad that was given to him to study Medical Training, Cursed began to read it over. In no time at all the 3PO droid returned with Bacardi's drink.

"Here you go sir." The protocol droid leaned down, and let Cursed pick his drink off of his tray. Cursed took one sip, hid his datapad, and then leaned back to enjoy the time he had alone-not counting the droid that was standing next to him. His smirk failed for the fact that he couldn't get an alcoholic beverage, if he did Cursed didn't know what his instructor would do.

Suddenly a tall and scruffy man burst open the doors, he was obviously Professor Zatic. "D-3PO, order up Corellian Ale, make it a double! And you must be Private Bacardi, welcome. You seem to be the only attendant to my class today." The giant man towered over Bacardi, his human nostrils flared as D-3PO waddled off to get his drink. Baffled at the fact that his professor had just gotten the drink that Bacardi should've gotten, the drink that Cursed had thought his professor would have been angry if he had gotten.

"Here you go sir." The droid came back in the room at full haste, and the instructor that still stood over Cursed took the drink from the droid's tray. The droid's gold plating shone as it waddled off through the two doors.

"Ok, lets get this started. Cardiopulmonary resuscitation, more commonly known as CPR. You see that dummy over there." The instructor motioned to the center of the room, to a dummy that was standing perfectly and looked almost alive. "Well, I am going to have a firing squad come in here and reek hell on it. As this dummy has vitals, they will drop rather quickly. The guns will be at low power, and therefore the dummy will have a chance to survive. You will give it Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation and lets see if you pass that part of this test. Reign Squad, you may come in now."

Eight Stormtroopers with SG-4 Carbines in hand entered the room, there white armor stood out from everything else in the room. One of them, obviously the squad leader turned to the good Professor, who was now near the dummy that was 4 rows down. They had a twenty second chat and the Reign Squad moved into position, all around the dummy they were in a circle with there Carbines raised. A giant holo-image appeared behind the dummy displaying it's vitals, and Cursed began to move up the rows for when he was to give it CPR.

The Squad Leader raised his hand, and changed it into a fist. "Raise hell!" Reign Squad did what they were told, carbine fire littered the dummy body. And fake screams could be heard from it, and it then hit the ground. Cursed looked at the squad leader, he noticed this: "You are the medic." Falling vitals were shown on the holo-image, and Cursed lunged towards the body. Reign Squad moved out of the way as Cursed began to pump air into the dummy, and a defilabrator appeared to his side, placed there by one of the troopers. He powered it up, and began to do mouth-to-mouth on the dummy. A sour taste came into his mouth as it collided with plastic lips, and he began to breathe air into it. Moving back to pumping he began, and then used the defilibrator.

"Clear." Cursed said, pressing the two defilibration pads against the dummy. The vitals showed no change, still deadlined. "500 p-x." Cursed said raising the power, he then cocked his head back to realize the instructor was laughing and sipping his drink. He then hit the pads back on the body, the vitals then cleared up. Revealing a green health bar the dummy let out a few fake gasps for air, and Cursed stood up to meet eye-to-eye with his instructor.

"Cardiopulmonary Resuscitation: Passed." The Intructor said with a smirk, his drink lay empty on the table near him. "Moving on the medical skills with a gun in hand. When you step into that door to your left you will be given the DC-15S, the weapon that you selected. Then there will be a simulation involving you moving through a battlefield and getting to a patient, the men inside will brief you on the mission. Before you go, I must add that there will be other, holograpic images-some are your allies, some are your foes. Be gone with you but remember, I will be watching you."

Cursed saluted and began to walk into the other room, he then noticed that there was a young man most likely in his mid-30s standing there, with a DC-15S Rifle in hand. "Here you go," the man said as he handed Cursed the weapon. "Ok, heres the deal. You will be stuck in the middle of a desolate world called Drevyla, a small taskforce of LAAT Gunships is being sent to a small location on the planet that houses rebels. On the way Iron Lung Squad's LAAT gets shot down, and your Squad's-Baker Squad-LAAT will move out of the taskforce to go help Iron Lung. From there on out it is all up to you, but you will need to give some people medical treatment and such."

Cursed nodded, and then the man left. Leaving Cursed with no one but his weapon. Then the lights dimmed and a simulator showed up, looking down Cursed realized that he was on a moving pad, this would keep him from banging against a wall. "Pilot!" Was the first thin Bacardi heard after he opened his eyes, looking around Bacardi saw a giant Jungle, and nothing but it. Seven other LAATs were in the air. "Turn us 'round, Iron Lung Squad's LAAT has just been shot down. We are going in for immediate evac, Jenkins try to raise them over COM!" Bacardi turned to realize that his Squad Commander, he didn't know his name was ordering the pilot of the LAAT. The LAAT turned ass over teakettle and went back the way they had come. A cylinder of smoke could be seen, getting bigger as they got closer.

"Iron Lung Squad this is Baker Squad do you come in, over?" Jenkins, the man that Baker's Commander had been ordering around was now talking in a headset, trying to reach Iron Lung Squad. According to the man that had briefed Cursed this "Iron Lung Squad" had been shot down, and Baker Squad-his squad-was going to evacuate them.

Sounds in Jenkin's ear drew the Comanders attention. "What the hell is it Private!?" Jenkins looked up, only to reveal a blank face. Bacardi already knew what had happened.

"I could only get a few words out of their transmission, that they are pinned down, but then I hear a scream and lost connection." Jenkins spoke clearly to the Commander, he began to move up to the pilots seat.
"Pilot-!"

"Jenkins get the hell out of my-woahh!" A scream came from the captain and every other member of the LAAT, nothing could be seen as a cloud of smoke engulfed the LAAT. A few screams from another member of the Squad was his last words as he was flung out of the LAAT. They had been hit by some laser blast, and were losing altitude.

"This is LAAT Transport J-8-1-Z-0 we are going down on points 299384 and-!" The LAAT hit the ground, hard, and Bacardi was flung out of the transport and onto solid ground. Sounds from the bushes made Bacardi upright and held his DC-15S on his hip. The other five surviving members of Baker Squad exited the LAAT, their weapons held high. Backpeddling, Cursed eventually grabbed his equipment from the rubble. Still aiming his blaster at the bush.

"Shit!" The Captain screamed as he was shot twice, "Attackers from the east and north..." blood came from the Captain's mouth as he flatlined, Bacardi saw this through his visor. Turning around Bacardi aimed at one of the human attackers, two shots from his blaster flatlined him as well.

"Gahhhhhh!!" One of Baker Squad's troopers hit the LAAT, his stomach ripped open by a blaster bolt. Bacardi moved back towards the trooper, ducking as Baker Squad opened fire on the attackers. He opened his Med Kit, and checked the troopers vitals with the VitKit, he was almost dead. Getting out a few bottles of Sephanaphrian, this would stop the blood flow to the stomach and at the same time ease the pain. The blood would reroute through other veins to the other parts of the body. "God no... god no..."

"Hold on, just hold the hell on!" Bacardi pushed the needles into his neck, and let it flow. He would soon feel numb. "Shit!" Bacardi screamed as he dropped his DC-15S Rifle, and pulled out his DC-15s, he would have to contribute to the battle somehow. Firing once he missed, but still scared the living daylights out of them. Bacardi then moved into the crashed LAAT, two bodies blocked his way to the Mobile Medical Lab, he moved them out of the way to grab the Cybernetic Mobile Paster, this would give the soldier that was dying a slight chance to live. He moved out of the LAAT, and to his avail one more trooper was dying. "Gahh." Bacardi pushed the wires up the troopers arm and stomach-what was left of it at least-and the trooper showed some satisfaction, his vitals were a green light.

"Passed," the Professor walked out of nowhere, the simulation had ended, and Bacardi found himself on the floor drenched sweat. He was in the position to make a person live, but this all stopped as the fake gravity that was holding him in the simulation ended.

OOC:

I am guessing I passed
[18:57] hehe
[18:57] but yeah go ahead and start #2

Bacardi and three other students walked into Lamba-Class Shuttle Dol Grip. Bacardi, who had woken up in his two room Tadath apartment early today had had a good breakfast, drove his airspeeder to the nearby parking strip, bought passage, and then had come straight to this landing pad. The Dol Grip was new by the looks of it, but it was also heavily armed, which was out of the ordinary for a transport shuttle.

Entering the dimly lit shuttle, Bacardi took a seat in the back, his body responded the the chair’s hard leather with a slight shiver up his spine. His silenced Mynock Q33 Slugthrower that was in his small shoulder holster put a small disturbance on his shoulder, causing Bacardi to go into an awkward pose. Suddenly static on speakers above Bacardi was heard, he looked up and heard the pilot (or so he thought) speak:

“Welcome to charter nine-zero-alpha-niner Dol Grip. I am your pilot, Gren Mufas, your co-pilot, Liam Helio, and our honorary guard, Corporal Finney, are all here to assist you. Our destination today is Tadath Stormtrooper Training Center Ninety Three, if this is not your destination please…” Mufas drained off into the average pilot protocol that he was required to say.



“… Have a nice day, Mufas, out.” The pilot finished as the boarding ramp descended. They had arrived at training center ninety three a few minutes ago, first the ship had to be searched, then IDs had to be checked, and the usual protocol went on and on. Bacardi got up and strolled down the ramp, ducking his head so not to hit the shuttle roof he reached the end of the ramp and looked up. Blinding light came through and he covered his eyes with his arm. Removing his arm as his eyes settled, he looked forward, the shuttle had taken off, and left the students, Corporal Finney, and Bacardi alone on the landing pad.

Everyone walked forward through an automatic door, the door opened and revealed a large white corridor. The students began to peel off to all their classes, Bacardi headed left and then right and into his training room. Only three other students occupied the room, the teacher, who was one Bacardi hadn’t taught under yet stood in the middle of the room. A female, attractive, and young by the look of it, an ID tag on her breast read ‘Sergeant Brass.’

“Well, now that our last student is here, proceed into your training rooms.” Brass told the small class. Bacardi immediately observed a room in the back marked ‘Bacardi’, he proceeded to the room after handing the Sergeant his medical sheet. He entered the room, a large computer terminal was shown. He pressed his hand up against it and it immediately responded with a young male man showing up. Bacardi pressed blinking areas on the screen, writing immediately followed:

‘Male, 23,
Name: -- [ Classified ] --
Symptoms: Loss of hair, no emotion.’

What the… thought Bacardi, wondering how he was suppose to give a diagnosis for this. He immediately opened another blinking dot on the screen, pressing his finger against it, it came up with a Diagnosis Sheet. He immediately began to search through diagnosis after diagnosis. He then found it, he immediately tapped it and pressed the man’s shape again. The man became larger and Bacardi moved his finger from the diagnosis and pulled it over the man. The man immediately blinked green, this was the right diagnosis.



“Congratulations, class, you all have passed.” Sergeant Brass told the class three hours after the previous encounter. They had gone through four different tests, Bacardi had come out on top once, bottom once, and second twice. “Dismissed, you all will no longer be learning under me. Have a nice day.” Bacardi and the rest of the class walked up and took their specialty sheets. They all then proceeded out and onto the landing pad. On their way to the landing pad, a bustle of troopers, students, and teachers was heard. The base was shutting down for the night.

They all reached the landing pad safely. Four shuttles touched down, the Dol Grip was one such shuttle. Entering the shuttle, Bacardi took his same seat and winced the same as his gun butted against his shoulder. The shuttle then took off towards Tadath, Bacardi had passed.

COMMENTS: Good work! Medic is never an easy spec but you seem to be having success at it. Keep up the good work. I think its slightly chatty, but you do show what you need to and also do a fair amount of character building.