Clean

[Hira Mitsae]

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H A S E R I A​

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SIERRA BLANCA​

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The one thing you never got used to was a job gone wrong.

Deadly wrong.

I have been in this business for years now. Planned out more of them than I can remember. I used to be able to remember all their faces. Then all their names. Then every innocent one. Until eventually, slowly, I pushed them out of my mind by the time the job was done. If that. Easier, but also harder, no? Not that that mattered in the now.

Not when you are clutching your side from a stab wound inches deep.

Job done, but badly. Not clean.

Not good.

I stumbled into the Sierra Blanca. Cantina that has been on my list of places to frequent between jobs, whenever I am in this region of space. The ale is good, music is fine, people don't stick their nose where they don't belong. Is good. The doors were easy to push open. Inside it was deserted. That was good- end of the day, people had already filed out to their homes.

"Help..." Even through the voice modulator of my helmet the voice sounded weak. I hated it. "Please?"

Someone came through the doors of the backroom, behind the counter.

Blonde. Woman. Something with a... D. She had served him once before, but I could barely clutch myself to this table. Much less remember name right now.

"Wounded."

Then I slumped into the seat and hoped that slugthrower in her hands wouldn't blast my helmet right off.

Bad way to go.

[member="Daisy Americus"]

 

[Daisy Americus]

Location: Haseria - Durango - Sierra Blanca​

Tag: [member="Hiron Vizsla"]​

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Daisy smiled prettily to one of her regulars when they left far more credits than she’d expected. “Why, thank you sugah. Have yourself a good night!”, she acknowledged the gesture kindly and the gruff old Mandalorian nodded his head in her direction before shuffling off. He didn’t talk much, but, it wasn’t a requirement. As long as he could tell her what drink he wanted and pay up at the end of the night? She wasn’t there to judge.

It was a slow night in the Sierra Blanca. Pretty dead, really. The restaurant just a little ways down, the Grizzly Rose, had already closed down for the evening as well. There was some light piano being played in the background and some of the more savvy folks were playing sabacc at a big table in the back but that was it. Every time a loud roar of laughter and groaning went up someone had either won or lost a fair share of credits.

She leaned against the bar, humming with the song, but mostly minding her own. The other bartender was taking care of the floor so all she really had to do was keep an eye on the bar itself. The golden-haired Americus was clad in a pair of tight-fitting, well-worn jeans, a gray camisole with a maroon-esque flannel tied at her midsection, and a pair of low heeled boots. It was almost midnight. Shifts would change soon and she would head home for the night.

Her life since leaving Concord Dawn had been ten kinds of topsy-turvey. She’d joined the Mandalorian Protectors, who, were employed by the Confederacy. Never in all her years would she have thought that her family would exist anywhere near robot space. Things changed. Daisy actually had an assignment to help out the Mandalorian Rangers that had an HQ in the next city over. Some sort of smiling, handshaking, sort of deal.

Daisy seemed to be the softest of most of them. Or, at least she looked that way. That was why she was typically the one sent to deal with situations that required them to make nice. She knew how not to be an idiot.

“Hey, Nate…”, she greeted her replacement when the tall, dark-haired man arrived, throwing his leathers in the corner behind the bar. Daisy sighed before picking up the jacket to hang it up in the back. At this point, it was a habit. He was a slob. “It’s been good tonight. Only a few fights.”

That was a good night.

She would have explained more to her coworker but the door to the front opened and immediately her eyes were drawn to it as she raised a pistol on instinct. For more than one reason, they kept slugthrowers behind the bar, but she didn’t expect to see a man stumble in bleeding. Usually, they stumbled out. Occasionally, bleeding.

Daisy moved around the bar as quickly as she could. She was cautious, still, but he couldn’t ignore a wounded man. “Don’t you do anything funny mister…”, she warned, briefly, before reaching for the hands that were hiding his injury. She had barely pried a finger away when blood burgled up and surged around the ruined material of his outfit. “Chit.”

That was bad. She hadn’t learned nothing, all these years, watching her mother stitch up most of their family and half of this town. Whatever he got hit with, stabbed with, or shot with had really done a number to produce that much blood flow. “Nate—Toss me some towels and call for Betty. Ah’m gonna need more than what we got here.”

Once she had the towels, she pressed them to his wound with a muted apology and began to disarm the stranger as best she could. He was hurt, needed treatment, but she didn’t know him from a hill of beans. Daisy would have been remiss to take him to her family fully armed. She also reached up and took his helmet off so he could breathe easier. “Ah can try and stop you from bleedin’ to death but ah think you must have had somethin’ vital nicked. My mama, Betty, she’s the doctor. She’ll be here in a second so just stay with me and for heavens sakes don’t move around so much...”

Daisy hoped that Betty got there soon. If not—She swallowed hard. She knew one way to stop the bleeder. This stranger wasn’t gonna like it.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Daisy Americus"]

Maybe if the pain wasn't bleeding through all my limbs I would have been more forceful about the disarming.

But honestly?

I knew a bad wound when I saw one.

This one was definitely that. Dangerous. Could be a deader that, so weapons or not? It wouldn't matter in the end of this lady didn't help me. "Ahhh," Might have been a pained exclamation that. "Dun' ya worry, luv, I will jus' stick around, while we wait." Not much else to do really. The one thing that I knew then though? Is that I didn't want to die with this helmet on. I wanted to feel the air on my skin. See the lights of the bar with my own eyes and unfiltered.

"Help me with da helm- feth - helmet?"

Together they managed to disengage the locks of the thing.

It bounced down to the ground and skidded against one of the table posts. It wasn't difficult to notice all the blood... lot of it trickled to the floor and the chair. "Sorry for the mess, eh? I'd help, but..." A pained chuckle just about managed to escape me.

Minutes passed.

Nobody came.

Something lurched inside, I couldn't bite back the pained yelp. "Ya sure they come? Don't think I got too longer..."

 

[Daisy Americus]

Location: Haseria - Durango - Sierra Blanca​

Tag: [member="Hiron Vizsla"]​

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Daisy snorted when the injured mercenary or whatever he was made a joke. It was a good sign that he was still holding onto his humor, but, he might also just be getting a little delirious from blood loss. She obliged to help him remove his helmet when he asked though it was a little awkward as she was also trying to keep the pressure on his wound. Every second that passed without her ma walking through the front door made her stomach sink lower and lower. “Just keep breathing. Ah know it hurts but you need to keep a good oxygen flow.”

His accent was similar to her own. Not exactly the same, mind you, but close. The golden-haired woman had been the butt of many a joke for sounding as if she’d come straight from some backwater world in the Outer Rim. Others simply assumed that she was a hundred percent inbred, or ignorant, just because of a little drawl. “Nathan—Is mama answering?”

Mama. It always became mama when she was nervous, or scared, over ma. Never mother.

“No Daisy. I can’t get her or anyone at the clinic.”, the owner of the Sierra Blanca responded, trying again, while glancing at the bleeding patron. Unlike the soft-hearted Daisy Americus he was more concerned that something else might come through the front door. Someone had stabbed this merc. He didn’t seem the type to try and do himself in. “Hey, vod, should we be worried about anything else?”

“Leave him be Nate. You better clear out the rest—We’re closin’ early tonight.”

“Who’s the owner again Daisy-Jane?”

“Don’t make me call the Rangers. Ah’m sure they could cite you for somethin’ or another.”

Nathan grumbled but Daisy knew she’d won that small argument. If there was someone coming after their new found friend they could deal with it then. In the interim, they needed to clean house and handle the main issue. Unless, Nate wanted someone to die in his bar. Blue-green eyes shifted toward the dark-skinned man and she gave a tight smile. “If you’re talking you’ve got time.”

Some. Not much, but some.

She leaned back on her haunches and chewed on the inside of her cheek for a minute while Nate kicked out the guys playing sabacc. They grumbled, nonplussed by the blood on the floor, but listened anyway. This was the only place on Haseria to get a decent glass of ne'tra gal and everyone knew it. No one wanted to rustle any feathers for real. “We’re gonna need to move you. This is gonna hurt so feel free to yell but ah can’t do this with you sitting up. Ah’ll help you.”

Daisy was stronger than she looked and slug his arm over his to help him lift. The quick transition from the chair to a long table would feel like forever, but, it only took seconds. She held the towel on his injury again and called for Nate. “Bring me the real big medkit from the back.”

The owner hurried off at the young woman’s request and returned fairly swiftly. Daisy pulled out the equipment she needed and looked over his armored form. It was damaged, but, she needed to see more of the injury. It would take time to get all of the armor out the way, but they managed, with minimal difficulty. “It didn’t go through but ah’m going to need to seal it.”, she spoke softly, before unhooking her belt so that she could fold it in half. “Bite down on this so you don’t lose your tongue.”

From there she pulled out a small tool that she could use to cauterize the wound. It was brutal, painful, but it would keep him from bleeding out.

 

[Hira Mitsae]

[member="Daisy Americus"]

"Naw, they be done."

Hiron managed to answer the question, even if Daisy didn't want him to focus on that.

Above anything else the Mandalorian understood this Nathan. Make sure every threat was eliminated. Then see about the next part. Otherwise you were liable to getting yourself shot.... or worse. He didn't know if he could trust these two, but honestly? With his life-blood flowing out of him in gushes? There wasn't really a lot of options here. His ship had been parked way too far away to be of use. So, that left either this (regulars had been mandalorians) or roll the dice in a back alley with some plasma cartridges.

The latter of which could have made it worse.

Naw.

This was the only option.

He tried his best to help them with stripping him off his armor. By the time he was bare-chested? Daisy might realize that her cauterizing tool... wouldn't be all that concerning to Hiron. His skin was marred with scars, most of which seemed to be self-inflicted. Ritualistic. They were marks. Every single one of a contract (head) collected and completed.

"Never did think I'd be burned by a lady dis way," Hiron murmured right before sinking his teeth into the offered leather. His hand curled tight against the table, preparing himself for what was to come. Those eyes of his though? They kept looking at her for some reason. Maybe as a reminder or maybe as a way to not lose consciousnesses against the pain that was threatening to overwhelm him. It was inscrutable, so who could really know one way or another?

 

[Daisy Americus]

Location: Haseria - Durango - Sierra Blanca​

Tag: [member="Hiron Vizsla"]​

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Done.

Daisy was a lot of things. Sweet n’ sassy—but not so thick that she didn’t understand. She remained quiet about it while she helped the man remove his armor. Normally, the golden-haired woman would have treated his effects with a little more respect. But now? No. She just dropped it on the floor in a heap. She reached up to press the back of her hand to his forehead and petal pink lips formed an almost delicate frown. “Nate—Go get some blankets from the upstairs. Should be a few pillows too. We won’t be able to move him for a hot minute.”

The owner had already closed up shot. The men playing sabacc in the back stopped complaining once they saw the blood pooling from the injured mercenary. A sharp look from Daisy sent them on their way. She was a spot of sunshine but crossing her was a piece of devils work. They all knew better. She set to sliding on a pair of latex gloves, before she pulled a body of strong booze from the bar, without moving. Telekinesis. It was useful. But, it was one of many reasons she could never go home.

“When then is over, you’ll have to tell me your story, vod.”, she questioned gently, uncorking the alcohol, so that she could dump it over the tools she would be using. It would be so much easier if they had a medical droid or her mother present. At best, she could hook up a vitals cuff, to make sure he was still breathing. “Ah’m Daisy. Daisy Jane.”

“And ah’m really sorry about this.”

She unceremoniously poured some of the liquor over his wound. The Mandalorian Protector had seen hundreds of little-raised markers on his skin, but, the meaning couldn’t matter to her. Not now. Nothing about his past or present would matter at all if he died on the table. “You need to hold still. Or ah’m gunna have to help you. Understand?”

She pulled at the edges of the ragged hole with a pair of incision clips and pressed a gloved finger inside to assess the damage. When she felt what she was looking for, the bleeder, the pulled her finger free. She would need to lengthen the wound so that she could cauterize the issue and minimalize damage to the surrounding tissue. Daisy had watched her mother do it a hundred thousand times. She could do this. Picking up the small laser scalpel, she took a deep breath and began to work.

Sometime later would find the statuesque woman applying a clean bacta bandage to her impromptu patient. She was covered in blood that didn’t belong to her but he seemed stable. Her mother had arrived sometime during the makeshift procedure and had been able to provide some anesthesia and painkillers. Both Americus women were blonde and striking. The mother seemed incredibly proud of her daughter’s technique and had left her to close up.

“You sure he’ll be all right momma?”

Betty Americus offered a wan smile before she left. She couldn’t make any promises. But, as any Mandalorian mother would, advised her to keep her gun close, and her wits ever present. The Sierra Blanca would stay closed until the patient could be moved somewhere more comfortable.

To that end…Daisy would find herself alone. She read a little, waiting for the man to wake, and eventually found herself playing on the piano. The blonde woman wasn’t an expert but she could manage the little things. Soft songs. Lullabies, or the closest thing to a lullaby, in Mando'a. She murmured the words. Far enough away not to startle him but close enough to keep an eye out. He’d lost a lot of blood. Anyone, would have passed out.