Martyred Medic
It was good to have Xan on his side as they ventured into this dangerous landscape. The two of them, once virtual strangers to one another despite having run in the same circles, had become good friends in the days since he'd built her replacement body. They worked well together, partly because of that friendship and partly because the Doc knew her physical capabilities just as well as she herself did; he'd put her together, after all, even if she'd done most of the design work. He also knew and respected her clever mind, her ability to infiltrate virtually any system and bypass virtually any electronic roadblock. They were both artists of a kind, he with a scalpel and she with a datapad.
The other member of their little band was... well, the Doc knew less about him, to keep things charitable. He'd been there in Seven Corners to welcome Asyr and his used starship lot to the neighborhood, but that had been little more than a brief exchange of pleasantries a long time ago. Before his darkest times. Before Xopsaloff. So much had changed since then for the Doc. His clinic (the one he'd had back then, at least) was gone. He couldn't show his face in Seven Corners unless he wanted to spend the rest of his (probably brief and painful) life in a cell at a CorpSec black site. And he carried a gun now, a gun that he'd used to kill more than once, where once he had only healed.
He'd become a harder, more pragmatic man since they'd last met. How had Asyr changed in the same timeframe?
Hopefully the used starship merchant (or whatever he was up to these days) was more capable of defending himself than his helmet-clouding stunt had made it appear, because the Wyrm Tunnels did not sound like a place where the Doc wanted to be. The street medic listened carefully to what Aylya had to say, even as his cybernetic eyes flicked up and down the darkened tunnel. He was already on edge, and what he was hearing didn't help in the slightest. He had no gods to pray to - he'd never been a religious man, and wasn't about to start now - so he just focused on keeping his eyes and nose sharp. He wouldn't need faith to pull through if everyone did as they were supposed to.
With a quick shrug and a salute to Xan, the Doc headed in, one hand falling by instinct to the butt of his gun.
The other member of their little band was... well, the Doc knew less about him, to keep things charitable. He'd been there in Seven Corners to welcome Asyr and his used starship lot to the neighborhood, but that had been little more than a brief exchange of pleasantries a long time ago. Before his darkest times. Before Xopsaloff. So much had changed since then for the Doc. His clinic (the one he'd had back then, at least) was gone. He couldn't show his face in Seven Corners unless he wanted to spend the rest of his (probably brief and painful) life in a cell at a CorpSec black site. And he carried a gun now, a gun that he'd used to kill more than once, where once he had only healed.
He'd become a harder, more pragmatic man since they'd last met. How had Asyr changed in the same timeframe?
Hopefully the used starship merchant (or whatever he was up to these days) was more capable of defending himself than his helmet-clouding stunt had made it appear, because the Wyrm Tunnels did not sound like a place where the Doc wanted to be. The street medic listened carefully to what Aylya had to say, even as his cybernetic eyes flicked up and down the darkened tunnel. He was already on edge, and what he was hearing didn't help in the slightest. He had no gods to pray to - he'd never been a religious man, and wasn't about to start now - so he just focused on keeping his eyes and nose sharp. He wouldn't need faith to pull through if everyone did as they were supposed to.
With a quick shrug and a salute to Xan, the Doc headed in, one hand falling by instinct to the butt of his gun.
Daiya
| Xan |
Darkwire Shadow
|
Cartri Keswoll
|
Jerec Asyr
Phalsi Drynchen | Zole | Bryn Celli Ddu | Brie Jaxx
Phalsi Drynchen | Zole | Bryn Celli Ddu | Brie Jaxx