Unfortunately, this type of situation was not at all out of the ordinary at Doc Painless's clinic.
The sound of weaponsfire startled the Doc awake, reflex dropping him from the chair where he'd been dozing into a gunslinger's crouch, blaster in hand. Perpetually in demand at odd hours, the street medic just slept wherever he happened to be whenever he wasn't immediately needed, usually for no more than an hour or two at a time. He quite literally couldn't remember the last time he'd slept a full night; in fact, his sense of night and day was even more topsy-turvy than that of most Denonites, for even the artificial light cycles that indicated the shifting of time down in the eternal twilight of the lower levels had no real meaning for him. He was awake when he was needed. That was the only rule.
He'd never bothered to get a new apartment after fleeing Seven Corners. When would he ever have time to be there? If he just slept in his clinic (in the chairs, not the cots, which he needed to keep sanitary) he would always be ready, so that was what he mostly did.
At first, the Doc worried that the paranoid nightmares that so frequently invaded his infrequent sleep were coming true: CorpSec had found him again, and they were coming in guns blazing. Word of a quality street medic's presence in the lower levels inevitably spread over time, and while the Doc was glad for the opportunity to take care of more people who needed him, he was
always worried that all the talk about him would reach the wrong ears. He was still a wanted man, and
someone would put two and two together. But as he paused there, blaster trained on the door and cold sweat beading on his forehead, he heard no tread of jackboots or hum of well-armored security speeders.
Besides, if there had been a Seccer arrest team out there, they would've burst in by now.
Rising from his crouch but not holstering his gun, the Doc moved slowly forward, leaving the surgical suite and making a careful sweep toward the small reception area. Just as
Shai Maji
had taught him, he kept both hands on his blaster, one to aim and fire, one to steady. He checked his corners just like she'd shown him, stepping away from the doorframe before peering around it, moving with his gun raised and ready; peering
directly around the frame from up close exposed your head to anyone who might be waiting to shoot you, while stepping away and then into the frame put you into position to sight and fire immediately
or to duck back around it and into cover.
It was strange how automatic the motions of combat had become. He was a different man now, After Xopsaloff.
But not so different that his first instinct upon seeing a wounded person had changed. Two people were sprawled on the floor of the reception area... and not just any two people. Two cops. Two
seccers. For a moment, the street medic froze. How did they know about him? Had they connected him to the wanted terrorist who'd helped kill a DireX? Was this all some kind of elaborate sting operation? But those worries passed quickly, because he could see that their wounds were genuine. Even CorpSec wouldn't shoot their own up this bad just to sell a secret arrest operation. If they found out who he was while he treated them... well, he'd figure that part out if and when it came up.
First, do no harm. It was harder and harder to live by that these days, but feth it, he still
tried whenever he could.
The Doc could trace a direct line between the pair of cops and the battered, smoking speeder that was messily parked outside. A quick scan of the scene revealed no immediate threats... but who knew what kind of trouble might be chasing these two. More than once the Doc had seen some gang member stumble in here
directly out of a firefight or a robbery gone bad, and this might be even worse than that; if the Seccers had just lost a fight, they'd probably been tangling with some pretty dangerous, well-armed criminals. In order to look after his patients, Doc Painless had to look after
himself, and that meant taking some precautions before he started in with treatment.
"Voiceprint ID: Doc Painless," the street medic said, making his voice loud and clear.
"Initiate security lockdown." At his spoken command, durasteel security shutters closed down over the front entrance, sliding into place with an audible
clunk. They wouldn't keep out explosives or heavy weapons, but they'd resisted the small arms fire of a determined group of gangsters more than once. Mentally checking off that box, the Doc turned to the next order of business. Tapping his ear, he opened a new comm channel.
"Brog? I need a favor. There's a Seccer speeder parked outside my place. I need it gone in the next five minutes, before anyone follows it here. The parts are yours."
His patients could argue with him about the fate of their vehicle
if and when they pulled through. It was too distinctive to leave parked outside with gangers around, and if CorpSec dispatch tracked it in order to find their downed officers, they'd be led right to the Doc's door. Kneeling beside the downed Seccers, the street medic took stock of the situation. The woman - young, overwhelmed, and trying to push through this situation with sheer determination - was in bad shape, with multiple wounds to the gut, thigh, and neck. Any of them could be
really nasty, potentially fatal or at least life-altering, if he didn't get her on his table soon; her little bacta patches wouldn't hold her much longer.
And yet she'd gotten the better end of the deal, because her partner was dead.
"Hey," the Doc said, his face swimming into view beside her. He placed himself so that she would have to turn her head to look at him... turn away from the cooling corpse of her friend.
"Hey, look at me. You made it. You're going to be okay. I need to get you into treatment now. Can you stand?" He offered her an arm, ready to lever her upward and let her lean on him... though with her leg wound, he wasn't sure she'd be up to walking. He was beyond amazed that she'd managed to get herself
and her partner through the doors. He'd carry her if he had to; his mechanical arms had the strength to do it. But he had a feeling she'd take it poorly if he just snatched her up, away from her friend.
One way or another, though, he was going to get her on the operating table. He
had to, or she was gone.
Doc Painless
