A shipment of Jet, a few syringes left unused... Ah, bollocks, someone must've gotten into storage again. How much must these junkies steal before they're satisfied? Oh well, he'd have to ask Solomon if he saw anything. Maybe he can get the guards to find it for me, however slim that chance is...
Doctor Sun checked off 27 stimpaks on his inventory checklist, letting out a disappointed sigh. Sales had been rough recently due to raiders ambushing traveling merchants, who were usually his source of materials for making medical supplies. Worst comes to worst, he might need to enlist the help of mercenaries. They're quite thorough, but the hole in his pocket is still burning from the last time he sought their aid.
"Hey, watch where you're walkin'!"
"What the..."
"What the devil!"
Sun raised an eyebrow as he glanced out towards the busy streets. It seemed there was some sort of commotion, likely another synth accusation. The 7th one of the day, Sun guessed. He rolled his eyes and crouched back down to inspect the gear on his shelves, looking for a functional tube for synthesizing his last batch of stimpaks.
However, his efforts would be interrupted as the sound of footsteps got louder and louder before he was certain they were nearing him. Poking his head around the corner of his stand, he saw-
"Good lord almighty! What-you-what?!"
In front of him stood a woman with dark brown skin covered with broken fragments of black rock. Her hands formed claws of rock and were drenched in fresh, pungent crimson blood. In her arms, she carried... Piper?
"Is that really fucking important right now?" The woman exclaimed, face scrunching in anger. "She's badly injured and needs medical help!"
"Right, yes I-of course. Follow me, quickly." Sun responded, still taken aback by the woman's appearance. He led her down into the surgery center, pulling out the gurney as he prepped the blood transfuser with a full pack of deconstructed iron gluconium. He turned back to check for the wound, but the woman had already torn away the cloth near the wound.
Gunshot, not energy evidenced by the lack of severe burns. Must have been far away, no gunpowder residue. Pierced through left mid-section. Sun rotated Piper to look at her back. Relatively minor bleeding, slight muscle contraction, likely minor or no damage to the iliacus.
Sun slammed open drawer after drawer, finally landing on a roll of nano-constructive gauze which he swiftly retrieved and set on his table beside the gurney. Adorning a medical mask, he began steady work with his tools, using a heated lens to cauterize the blood vessels before swiftly injecting a small amount of adrenaletalyine acid into the area. The woman stood across from him, clutching Piper's hand in desperation, but Sun paid no mind. He continued his work, repeating the same actions on the exit wound.
After she had been fully cauterized, he grabbed his gauze, barking out "Hold her back up, quickly." Even without being directly addressed, the woman immediately complied and held Piper up by her glutes as Sun wrapped the gauze around her torso, sealing up both wounds and adding dipropanyl compound to activate the gauze. He finished up by inserting the transfusion needle into Piper's hand, making sure to hit the right vein, and activating the machine. Sun waited a moment, eyes rapidly darting between the blood transfuser and Piper's wound, before he relaxed upon seeing the transfuser emitting a nominal heartbeat.
He slacked back against the wall, peeling off his grimy mask as he took in the air. Not exactly the easiest medical treatment he's given, mostly because they wind up dead before they get to him. The Commonwealth isn't exactly known for leaving survivors. That, and the fact that his disdain towards citizens usually kept them away from him. Usually...
"So, might I have the privilege of knowing your name?" He asked, looking in the woman's direction. She was still holding onto Piper's hand, eyes fixated on the rise and fall of the journalist's chest.
She glanced back for a moment, eyeing Doctor Sun up and down, before returning her eyes back to Piper. "Kat."
"Right, well, Kat. Piper should be fine for the time being." He paused, then added, "As fine as someone in her condition can be."
...
"Do you mind if I ask about your-"
"Yes."
He rolled his eyes. What did he expect, honestly? "Fine, can we at least discuss the payment for treatment? I can offer a period for you to get the money, but in case you hadn't noticed I haven't been in good business recently."
Kat only glanced up at him with a quirked eyebrow, a look of either disappointment or disdain.
"Right, of course, my mistake." He grumbled, muttering under his breath, "Looks like Piper'll have more to her outstanding balance."
As he finished his disgruntled grumblings, Kat groaned, as she trudged over to Sun, reaching into the satchel on her thigh and pulling out a modest sack that echoed a familiar metallic rattle. She slammed it on the shelf behind Sun, stepping back and giving him a look that could only mean "Good enough, shitbag?" as she walked back to Piper's side. "That'll do, I suppose..." Sun muttered
Taking the obvious message, he stepped out of the surgery center for a smoke to unwind. Unfortunately, he would be shortly interrupted by the crowd (as crowdy as mid-afternoon Diamond City could be) outside.
"Doc, what the hell was she?"
"Yeah, what was she?"
"Is she a synth? An institute spy?!"
"You can't let her stay here!"
Sun pinched the bridge of his nose, thinking "This day keeps getting fucking worse." He drags his hand down his face and puts on his most monotone impression. "Any information at my establishment is strictly confidential as to maintain patient confidentiality. If you have any concerns, you may ask them after they have recuperated. Until then, please keep your conspiracy theories strictly to synths and the Institution."
The crowd grumbled in disagreement but had to disperse after Diamond City guards arrived to handle the situation. Thankful for some peace and quiet, Sun takes a cigarette from his lab coat pocket and takes a long drag. Heh, a smoking doctor preaching about patient confidentiality. What a fucking shitshow.
After a good ten minutes or so, Kat emerges from the surgery center, a fierce yet somber glare in her eyes. She glances at Sun, currently mid-smoke, who only stares back with mute service. Reaching into her pocket, she reveals a small snippet of paper, likely from a notepad. "Hand this to Piper once she wakes, would you?"
Sun shoots a cloud into the sky, throwing his cigarette onto the ground and stomping the ashes. "Sure, whatever you need rock lady," he says as he takes the slip of paper.
She scowls, rolling her eyes as she walks away grumbling. Sun looks down at the note, which has "From: Ajax" written on the front. Ah, so her name is Ajax. Silly slip-up or something he shouldn't have read? Either way, curiosity got the better of him and he flipped back the creases of the note to read the contents.
Hey Piper, I'm off to do some important work.
Don't bother looking. You won't find me because I'll find you.
Cheers, Ajax
YOU ARE READING
Memory of Black Mold, Heart of Broken Glass
Action"How pitiful, a bandit who thinks they can run," they utter, their voice scratchy like sandpaper. or An unfortunate encounter between a mercenary and a journalist and their journey together.
