Log:More Than Meets the Eye
She's been sitting in the waiting room for almost an hour by the time that she gets called back to see a physician. Triage dictates she's low on the priority list. What might be nothing more than a wrist sprain doesn't merit immediate attention. She's studying a datapad when the nurse calls her name, and she tucks that into a bag by her side before gathering it and her coat up from her seat. Rising, Chani's heeled ankle boots tap a rhythmic pattern detailing her step tempo, and the way her bag bumps against her hip mimics that in subtle fashion. Her coat is folded over her right arm, which stretches across her abdomen so that her fingers can curl around her left arm. That's the one that hangs limp without any kind of sway to it.
The indented dimple in her left cheek signals her teeth are pinching against the inside of it, but it vanishes once the nurse guides her to a seat inside one of the examination rooms in favor of offering her a brief, polite smile. "Thank you." She piles her belongings into her lap as she does, and sets in for the next bit of waiting.
Chani Tahn is not left alone for long. The door shuts, then opens again after a brief knock on its exterior. Replacing the nurse is a short pale blonde female human with a scarred face and pretty smile. Aryn wears a sandy brown tunic, with a darker leather belt and matching boots. Her doctor's coat is white, and has a name badge attached on one of her pockets 'Dr. Aryn Cole'.
"Good day, my friend. I am Doctor Aryn Cole. Apologies for the wait. It is that time of year where many come down with the new bug of the season."
Aryn triggers the door to shut behind her and steps closer. She makes use of a single datapad, which she hugs to herself in favor of making eye contact and smiling.
The knock on the door signaling someones arrival leads Chani to drag her eyes away from the various information panels talking about various common conditions, medications, and things to talk to her physician about. She straightens up in her seat as Doctor Aryn Cole -- read from her name badge -- enters the room, and the neutral expression of her face transforms again into one putting forward a smile. "Good afternoon," Chani offers after the Doctor's introduction and explanation for her absence. Her gaze is lingering, however, on the blonde woman. A subtle hint of her features tightening in scrutiny betrays her look is discerning. When she speaks, however, it's in response to what's already been said. "That's okay. I'm just here about my wrist."
"Of course," Aryn replies and then gestures with one hand. "May I examine it?" Aryn does not step closer to Chani. She moves for the counter nearby to set her datapad down. A code cylinder is used to open one of the cabinet doors and a small case is brought down and opened after inputting a four digit code to open it.
Aryn leaves the case open nearby and finally closes the distance to Chani. Gloves are pulled onto each hand, and her stool is wheeled over so she might sit close to the musician while she examines. "How did you hurt your wrist?"
"Of course." Setting her bag down on the floor next to her and her jacket on top of that, Chani's feet tuck slightly beneath the seat she's in and her posture adjusts forward more into a lean than sitting straight up. Keeping her fingers limp, but her wrist stiff, she lifts her left arm up in front of her at chest height, blocking neither her vision nor the doctor's while offering it for examination. "We were setting up instruments for a performance later tonight and one of the cases started to fall. I tried to catch it, but it was heavier than I expected. I felt a sharp pain and now it just aches." It's not very swollen. There's no distinct bruising. Nothing looks adjusted out of place. Her fingers appear to be the same color as the rest of her skin, too.
"It sounds like it could be a small sprain," Aryn offers, finally reaching out to touch Chani's wrist to feel around it. "Let me know if you experience any sharp pains. I will be pressing all around your wrist to see if it is isolated to one spot or several." Aryn goes through this process quietly observing the other woman. Aryn's hands are warm, and she takes special care not to blatantly cause pain. She observes that there are no distinct bruises or anything out of place. She also notes the color of Chani's fingers in relation to the rest of her skin. "What instrument do you play?"
The presence of Aryn's fingers touching the affected area prompts a slight flinch from Chani. It's mostly the pressure against the tendon that causes it, but she's not so skittish that she recoils. A small sprain is right. Catching the heavy instrument tipping over likely hyperextended her wrist and cause a small tear in the tendon that travels up her forearm to her wrist before splitting off to her digits. In short: not the kind of injury someone playing an instrument would like to suffer before playing. There's a look of concern on her face, but having an injury manipulated to check the extent of the damage will do that to anyone. Her features soften a moment later, and her gaze flits from her wrist to the Doctor's face. "I play the harp. Sometimes the quetarra or the hallikset. Typically anything with strings."
"I have a cousin who plays the harp. I only heard her play a few times, mainly during special occasions or when my father wanted to listen while sitting on the terrace. My father says music opens the window to the past." Aryn laughs softly. "I think he meant to encourage me to play.." The way Aryn trails off implies she never did.
Drawing her hands back from Chani, Aryn seemed convinced it was a sprain. "You have a few options available to you for treatment. We can do a brace to keep from damaging the sprain further; we can do a bacta injection to expedite healing, but I am not sure it will be healed by tonight. Or.. I have another option available as well. It is more esoteric in nature, but you would be fine to play tonight if we went with that option for treatment."
"I used to listen to my grandmother play in the evening after dinner," Chani offers in exchange. "It inspired me to try it out. You seem to have found what you wanted to do even if you never tried the harp." Once her wrist is let go, Chani draws it back towards her lap with the tenderness of movement showing she's cautious about handling it. Even bumping it against herself seems like an unpleasant route to go in her mind. As the options are listed, Chani's head tilts just slightly to the side once something esoteric is mentioned. It's enough of a tilt that the dark curtain of her hair presses more against one side of her face than the other, and the shell of her ear is made visible on the latter. "That.. sounds a little too good to be true. What is it?" Obviously, the opportunity to play tonight rather than having to wait is also something she can't just pass up.
"In addition to serving Hanna City as a Doctor, I am a member of the Jedi Order. There are wounds that I can mend using my influence over the Force. If you permit me, I can mend your wrist. It is not painful, and there are no drugs or braces that need be involved. Just a touch, and a few moments of your time," Aryn explains softly, and smiles after. Aryn seemed genuine in the offer, like she had done it before many times and it was a bonafide way to heal another. Most people Aryn encountered did not believe in the Force, the Jedi, or anything that was not anchored by science. Aryn did not blame them, either.
Chani's lips peel apart and she sucks a quiet breath through them. The revealed knowledge comes as a surprise, and not just because this woman mentions being part of the Jedi Order. Realization dawns on her face, prompting her cheeks to suffuse with heat. "Forgive me, Your Highness, I thought I--," Chani's mouth works ineffectively for a moment. "That is to say, I thought you might.." Words begin to fail her. The Princess of Alderaan is famous, especially in certain circles on Naboo, and although Chani thought she'd recognized the woman, it doesn't truly dawn on her the silly mistake that she's made until right this moment. She clears her throat and glances away, embarrassed she's made such a faux pas in front of such an important figure.
"There is nothing to forgive, my friend. Truly." Aryn says, turning slightly red. She does not make light of the situation by laughing; poor Chani looked like she was beating herself up about it, and if there were to be blame cast, it would be aimed at Aryn. She had named herself Doctor, not Princess. "So, what say you, Ms. Chani? Shall I mend your wrist?" Aryn did her best to show a reassuring look.
Chani's lips tighten for a long moment. She contends with whatever she's experiencing in silence, refusing, for the first few moments, to meet Aryn's gaze. Whatever insistence the doctor gives reagrding forgiveness being unnecessary, it's clear Chani's embarrassment does not share the same outlook. Another slight clearing of her throat and a few seconds of rumination and self-chastisement bring the moment of reflection to an end and Chani musters up the decency to look the physician in the face. She's still not sure how she missed it between the name and the face, and why it took mentioning something so distinctive as her affiliation for Chani to understand who she was sitting in front of, but there's no changing that now. "Yes, please."
"Very well. May I see your wrist again?"
Aryn takes hold of Chani's wrist once more and this time it is gentle. A deep breath is drawn inward and the blonde closes her eyes and tilts her head down. Inwardly, she draws on her connection with the Force, channeling it from her core, through her fingers, and into the young lady sitting in front of her.
A very distinctive feeling followed, like an internal warming presence that penetrated Chani at her wrist and began to slowly spread out. From fingertips to toes, the sensation lasted until Aryn finally opened her eyes and released Chani's wrist. The feeling tapered, slipping away nearly as sudden as it arrived.
Aryn took hold of her own wrist and idly rubbed, though her focus was on Chani. "How does it feel to you now?"
Extending her left arm from where it's retreated near her hip, Chani's lips peel apart from one another again so she can take another silent breath. This one isn't related to the awkwardness of the current situation. This one is in preparation for what comes next, because Chani has no clue what's supposed to happen now. There's no pain when Doctor Cole's hands surround her forearm, but she's tense all the same. The same concern from before is present, but this time it's probably the fear of the unknown. She doesn't know what she expects. Something.. tangible, maybe. Something more than the doctor's eyes closing and her chin dipping down. Something more than just the ache fading away in her wrist and leaivng it feeling completely normal. Showing surprise far greater than the moment she realized she was in the Princess of Alderaan's presence, Chani stares in disbelief at her arm as she flexes her wrist. "..The pain is completely gone."
"A favorable outcome, I say," Aryn says laughing. The look of disbelief is a common thing Aryn's experienced many times. The Force often received those sorts of reactions. Aryn rises up and gently guides her stool back. "Well, while you are here, we might as well vaccinate you. If you plan to stay on Chandrila for any length of time, it might be for the best. This new bug has people coughing like crazy." Aryn goes back to the counter to look over the kit she had laid out for this occasion. "That is if you will allow it of course." Aryn glances back at Chani to see if she had her permission to proceed.
In her marveling, Chani once again forgets, for a moment, who she's in the presence of. "Thank you, Your Highness. I'm honored." That's a weird thing to say, maybe, to a doctor doing her job, but things can't get more awkward in a situation like this. Her left hand retreats into her lap, joining with her right, and Aryn's question is met with a nod of affirmation. "I'm sure it would have come up later if not now. The group I play with travels, so we're used to frequent vaccinations." New planets, new species, and new cultures also means new diseases, new hospitals, and new things to get protected against. She didn't know traveling as a musician would come with so many hospital visits, but at least it's a familiar setting.
"I am envious. Traveling and visiting new places was once an aspiration of mine," Aryn shares, her tone genuinely wisened, implicating that something prevents her from it now. She returns to Chani's side holding an applicator gun. It is not the one she is accustomed to using because this design uses a needle. "I will be injecting you with the vaccination and drawing a blood sample. I do this just to analyze for any blood concerns like bloodburn," A disease prevalent among those who travel in deep space with prolonged exposure to radiation. "This /will/ sting, but the bacta pad will help."
Aryn wipes the spot on Chani's arm, places the applicator in place, and squeezes the trigger. It's over in single CLICK, and Aryn slides the small sample of blood free from the gun. It is in a small glass vial of sorts. A small bacta pad is pressed against Chani's arm then, and Aryn nods. "Just hold this in place for me while I run these tests."
The tests were not hidden from Chani. Aryn sat back down on her stool after placing the applicator gun back on the counter. She used her datapad to interface the capsule, then brushed her hand over the image on the screen to 'send it' to the projector at one corner of the room. At once, a blue holo-projection forms between Aryn and Chani, and all the tests that are running show up in a series of small screens. For each bloodborne disease being tested for, a window pops up, and each is filled with a red X indicating no match. It isn't until the final one labeled 'M' that a green checkmark appears.
Aryn's eyes widen a moment and she clears her throat. "Oh,.. how interesting. No cause for alarm." She issues, bringing the view up for them to see. It turns out the 'M' stood for a long word titled Midichlorians.
Chani deals with the blood sample being taken by looking at a wall to her side, away from where the applicator is placed. She blinks, rather than flinches, and is happy that the process is quick and relatively painless aside from the unpleasant pinch. She knows it would be worse than that if she watched. Rather than question what something like bloodburn is, because that's not something she thinks she wants to know about, Chani silently nods and takes over holding the pad against her arm with two fingertips pressed against it. She knows to add pressure, because that'll help ensure good contact is made between her skin and the bacta covered surface. She watches the doctor only because there's nothing else to do. The blank look on her face explains it all. She has absolutely no clue what that's supposed to mean.
"You have a high concentration of midichlorians in your blood," Aryn explains. "This is evident of someone, like me, who can feel and interact with the Force. It is a rare trait among all species and one that is inherent to your blood." Aryn closes the scan and immediately deletes the results before they can be uploaded to the hospital's database. Chani's bloodsample is disconnected from the datapad, and placed within a bag that's intended for immediate disposal.
"It seems, Ms. Chani, there is more to you than meets the eye. This is a good thing, of course; a blessing, even." Aryn smiles. "Should the day dawn that you wish to learn more about this connection, I implore you to seek me out."
Chani's blank expression presents itself to the doctor for a few moments more. Her mouth opens. It closes. It opens again. It closes. "I'm sorry, I don't understand what you're saying." She doesn't notice, or understand, that this information has been deleted anymore than she grasps the meaning behind Aryn's words. She frowns, and the expression is strong. It suddenly strikes Chani, in that moment, that the Princess of Alderaan may be exacting her revenge for not being recognized. There are more cruel ways this could have been done, of course, and Chani would be thankful to get off with such a harmless prank being played on her, but she seems to be unable to cope with the information presented to her. "I just play the harp." That statement, in the way she says it, is meant to express how that could not be possible.
Aryn ponders a new way to say what she has shared. It takes a moment, but to deliver the sense that this is serious, she sits down. Her expression is not indicative of a person playing a joke. "Many years ago, during the time of the Old Republic, the Jedi Order used to dispatch members of the Order to all corners of the galaxy with a singular mission. They were to find newborn children and test them, much like I have you, to detect if they might be sensitive to the Force."
Aryn shifts a little closer to Chani, speaking a tad more softly which seemed to accentuate her accent a bit more, clearly Alderaanian. "The elements that make up /your/ blood are consistent with old data. I understand that, for you, this might seem overwhelming. That you only play the harp really has no influence with this. I am saying you /could/ do more. Your rare gift, the element in your blood, means that if you had a mind to, you could be Jedi and learn to use the Force."
Aryn raises her hands as if to signal wait. "I am not suggesting you make life altering decisions right this moment. I am just sharing that, should the notion take root and you want to explore this gift more.. please find me, and I will bring you to the Jedi Order to learn the ways of the Force. Please realize, this is no joke."
"Did you read my mind?" Chani blurts the question out before she can stop herself. Aryn's reassurance that this is no joke is too close to home given her own train of thought, and Chani's been thrown for a loop by this piece of information. Whether or not anything Aryn imparts about the history of the Jedi sticks is up for grabs, but what's certain is that Chani is feeling quite overwhelmed. Dizzy, even, if the slight sway she displays after suddenly rising from her seat is any indication. A not-quited muted alarm that's chiming from somewhere beside her is the cause. Gathering her bag and her coat, the young harpist still clutches the bacta pad she'd had pressed against her arm in a balled up fist. "I'm going to be late for practice before the recital. Please forgive me, Your Highness. Uh, thank you.. for.. the healing." Chani bows with such vigor that her hair sways forcefully forward, then back, and she begins to quickly depart.
"I--.." Aryn is caught off guard by the question, and in trying to answer, cut off by the alarm. The sudden need for departure seems to put Chani into action, eager to leave. Aryn rises up and steps back to give the harpist all the room she requires to gather her things. "Consider my words, Ms. Chani. May the Force be with you." Aryn returns the bowing gesture though her own is not as vigorous or as rushed. When she straightens, her eyes follow the young lady, and her expression changes from serious to thoughtful. Nothing more is offered, but she does wave her hand toward the door triggering the console's switch to press in which prompted the door to slide open. Perhaps it was a remote controlled reaction? Perhaps something more? Aryn locked her hands to the small of her back and observed quietly.
The door rushing open without her prompting it to by depressing the switch near it is enough to make Chani hesitate. ...Or does Chani hesitate before she gets halfway through depressing it? Like she knows it's going to trigger before she can touch it? It's enough to make her backstep halfway, suddenly skeptical of traveling through the portal. Her flicking hair, sweeping about her shoulders and tickling her upper arms, indicates the rapid dart of her chin as her eyes track from door to panel, then back to the door. She glances back over her shoulder at Aryn, as if Aryn could be the source of all this, rather than some approach to the door. Whatever the case, the seemingly bewildered young woman offers the most awkward of half-bows again before finally leaving, appearing in quite the rush to do so.