Transgression

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Starkiller base had six medical team workers that weren't droids. Part of this was to catch certain mistakes droids may make and the other part was due to the discrimination of droids in and of themselves. Perhaps the reasons were both inextricably linked. All that Vora knew was that both she and her colleagues were the esteemed team they were because of the high quality of the medical droids. The medical bay saw many stormtroopers, generals and officers alike on the daily. Oppressing the whole solar system was a violent affair.

The majority of those working in the First Order come about through force or through selective nurturing. Most of the stormtroopers had been snatched from their parents at an early age, ripe for shaping into little killing machines. Other troopers had been convinced of the first order cause and then given conditioning.
Vora, like others who had lots of experience mastering their particular skill, had been left with the illusion of a choice when she had been caught in a First Order siege resulting in many individuals being killed. The First Order offered her a place amongst them, impressed and aware of her medical skills, in return for allegiance. After glancing around at the dead bodies on the floor, Vora had agreed. After she'd been at the First Order for a few weeks she met others who had the same story as her. They'd all renounced death for a while longer and accepted their fate, drained of hope. The medical team alone knew holding on to their ability to help people was enough to keep them going whilst part of the organisation that had doomed their lives as they'd known it.

Working for the First Order, surprisingly, was not the oppressive hell Vora had envisioned – especially if approached from an internal approach which refused to consider what the First Order stood for. She and the other medical bay workers had their own small rooms with a bed, shower, and toilet not far from the main medical bay. Food was served in a large canteen, so Vora was never expected to make a meal again. There were some rooms that enabled socialising in the brief times that one was off duty. Vora mainly socialised with the other medical bay workers or the patients that arrived.
Her shifts usually lasted most of the day. Especially if she or the other medical bay workers were tasked with being on an attacking ship. For the most part, though, she had remained on Starkiller for most of her First Order 'career'. She'd even been tasked with running a workshop, with a medical droid, to train up some people who were going to be acting as medical technicians on attacking ships. She found herself loving showing people what to do but hating what it was for. She remembered being watched briefly that day by both General Hux and General Phasma who had given her brief praise afterwards. It was an unusual but encouraging experience. It made Vora feel that she had been going the right direction – in this case that meant, not being killed by the First Order.

Vora had seen all types of wounds. On Starkiller she especially treated burns. These came from faulty consoles or mistreated weapons. Sometimes they even came from a lightsaber, wielded by the one commander who was a Sith. On more severe occasions, individuals were impaled on base equipment or other sharp objects. Sometimes, more fatally, they were impaled by a lightsaber.

Vora sighed. The one with the lightsaber, Commander Ren, was notorious for violent tantrums. She had been lucky to not cross his path during these tantrums. He was the most distinctive from others of the First Order due to his height paired with dark clothes, and an associated mask.
Vora had first seen him whilst in the flight bay whilst tending to a man who had been crushed in between the wall and the heavy machinery normally used to move broken ships. She immediately had nodded in his direction in performative respect and returned to her pressing (or pressed?) work. Whenever she bumped into him then onwards, as well as any high ranking general or officer on the Starkiller, she would always show respect and quickly move on. If she was stuck on the ship, she would at least avoid being killed for the time being. As someone who had been sympathetic of the resistance most of her life, if she was going to be killed by the First Order, she'd want to go out loud.

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