Martyred Medic
"I'll leave your crates alone," the Doc said quietly, once the woman was finished speaking. She was allowing him time, plenty of time, to make sure this giveaway didn't become a massacre... and right now that was the only thing he could prioritize. There were a billion injustices unfolding on Denon at any given moment, a billion bad things about to happen to people who didn't deserve it, and he could only worry about the ones that were within his control. He couldn't stop Niki from unleashing the dark side of her gift, and he was sure he'd only get innocent people hurt if he tried. He could only make sure that, when the fighting broke out, none of the people he was treating were in the way.
"I appreciate the warning," he told her, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. By his inaction, he was allowing people to get hurt - killed, even. That flew in the face of his medical ethics, ethics he'd had to compromise more and move over his years on the city planet. He was supposed to do no harm, and letting people get ambushed when he could have warned them was doing them harm. It didn't matter that they were gangsters. It didn't matter what they'd done. Anyone who ended up needing his help was supposed to get it. But here he was, a changed man. He shot people now, telling himself it was to save other, more worthy people. And he made deals like this one. Dirty deals.
Deals drenched in blood, because no matter what he chose, somebody was going to die.
It didn't feel good to decide which lives had more value.
"I'll give you a warning of my own, if you'd care to listen," the Doc finally said. "You say you've been on the receiving end of a tragedy. I'm sorry. No one deserves that. But this thing you're doing, the revenge you're looking for... it's going to end up being someone else's tragedy. Every person you gun down in your ambush out there has friends and family, people who love them just as much as you love the people you lost. Every survivor who wakes up covered in blaster burns will have a story of scars just like yours." He shook his head. "It never ends, you know. Revenge. It just goes back and forth forever, and both sides are always sure they're justified."
The street medic shrugged, turning away. "Something to think about while you're gunning them all down."
"I appreciate the warning," he told her, though the words tasted bitter in his mouth. By his inaction, he was allowing people to get hurt - killed, even. That flew in the face of his medical ethics, ethics he'd had to compromise more and move over his years on the city planet. He was supposed to do no harm, and letting people get ambushed when he could have warned them was doing them harm. It didn't matter that they were gangsters. It didn't matter what they'd done. Anyone who ended up needing his help was supposed to get it. But here he was, a changed man. He shot people now, telling himself it was to save other, more worthy people. And he made deals like this one. Dirty deals.
Deals drenched in blood, because no matter what he chose, somebody was going to die.
It didn't feel good to decide which lives had more value.
"I'll give you a warning of my own, if you'd care to listen," the Doc finally said. "You say you've been on the receiving end of a tragedy. I'm sorry. No one deserves that. But this thing you're doing, the revenge you're looking for... it's going to end up being someone else's tragedy. Every person you gun down in your ambush out there has friends and family, people who love them just as much as you love the people you lost. Every survivor who wakes up covered in blaster burns will have a story of scars just like yours." He shook his head. "It never ends, you know. Revenge. It just goes back and forth forever, and both sides are always sure they're justified."
The street medic shrugged, turning away. "Something to think about while you're gunning them all down."