FinInterlude1

From HOTGT

Fin pulled the suture through the skin of the last of his patients. He tied it off and wiped his brow of sweat leaving a sticky film of blood across his forehead. He jotted down a few notes for the Haven medical staff, and placed vials of antibiotics and pain killers in a plastic baggy hanging from the anonymous patient's neck. Then he walked the rest of the supplies back to the medical refrigerator in the infirmary. As he placed the remaining vials carefully in their places his eyes blinked appreciatively. The clear liquid invited him. It beckoned to him.

He took a single dose from the fridge and stared at it appreciatively. His fingers ached from hours of fine work, tying off sutures, feeling into flesh for shrapnel and other foreign objects. Real doctors didn't have to do all the work themselves, they'd deal with the severe wounds, and let a nurse sew up. Or more likely, they'd have the tools to do it quickly and easily.

His vision was swimming. He'd been up too long, drinking too much, he never did get back to sleep on the ship, and most of all he didn't much care for battlefield chaos. Barking orders, running into fire zones, and facing who knows what, was not really his style. His head was pounding from a headache, hangover, ear damage, and withdrawl. Adrenline had staved off most of those long enough for him to finish his last surgery. Being the closest thing to a doctor here meant a lot needed to be done. In addition to the actual surgery, he was also instructing people on safe anesthesia, creating make shift tools, the fundamentals of sterilization, and other basic first aid. He didn't really like these people, but they did want to help, and that meant something. He still couldn't shake that they'd all be a lot better off if they just played by the rules and embraced unification. Of course, playing by the rules didn't help him much.

Still he wasn't sure he'd earned the bliss of the drug quite yet. He'd already blown two weeks worth after the... after the events on Persephone. He'd doubled his doses, out of self pity, congratulations, mercy on the crew, desire for companionship, who knows. His crew mates seemed to appreciate the break from his normal depressed and depressing self. He wondered if they had any clue why he was so cheerful. His recent bounty meant he was flush in the drug, and without Doc Jones to harass him, he was more free than ever to indulge. But still, he needed to conserve. Well, he needed a good justification anyway. Besides from a days hard work, he had felt like he had accomplished something, and that made him feel strange... almost good.

There were several people that would have died were it not for him. They might yet die given the lack of sanitary facilities here, but that wouldn't be his fault. There were several people that would've lost limbs and their livelihoods were it not for him. And that was something. The goodwill of the 'fine' people of Haven was not something he particularly cherished, he'd just as soon be gone as soon as possible. There was something pitiful in their gratitude. He even got a nod of approval from the Nurse, like he cared about that. The self righteous always looked for signs of reformation in lost souls like his, well he didn't want to stick around long enough to disappoint her.

He put down the vial for a moment. He needed something else. He walked outside the ship, the mid day sun was beating down on the dusty world. The smoke and dirt covered everything with a filthy layer of grime. He saw yet another body being dragged to a spot away from town, next to the dozen or so already there. It was carefully draped in what looked like a painters drop cloth, but was more likely a blood soaked tarp. This one was sacrificed in triage, left alive but untended to die in the sun. He knew he should let it go. That is what triage is for, saving those you can. He walked over to the body, and pulled at the cloth. His heart stuck in his throat. It was the cook's assistant from the party the other night.

They were two people: drunk and horny, leading to something anonymous and fevered. The last two left when the party ended, waiting to see if they'd stagger back to the beds alone. The quiet ones, present for the festivities, but not fully there. They shared a momentary look, recognizing something, a shared need that they had both buried for too long. Their coupling was quick and out of sight, neither particularly wanted the inevitable questions or giggles. They got 'lucky', it was so rare to be like them, separate and different from the others around them. But was rarer still to meet another when the timing was right.

Of course, the times were not so right. Fin dropped the cloth, not evening holding it aloft long enough to decipher the name on the corpse's uniform. He didn't want to know. He got what he came for. A reason. A reason as good as any other.

Back on the ship, in the privacy of his cabin, a quick injection like those he performed countless times before. That awkward moment, like that just before a first kiss, then the welcoming embrace. He lay back on his cot, still bloodied from his work, and smiling, he passed out in oblivion.

Heroes of the Great Tree Topics
Impossibilities	I-verse background • Player Characters • NPCs • House Rules
Phantapunk	Aeryn Background • Player Characters • NPCs • House Rules
Concrete & Crimson	World Background • Scoobies • NPCs • House Rules
Keep Flying	The 'Verse • The Crew • NPCs • House Rules
Polybius	The World • Investigators • NPCs • House Rules
Labyrinth	The World • PCs • NPCs • House Rules