Dave's Star Wars
Faceman/Doctor of the group
When I left Medical School, my friends all took positions at the local hospitals. A few traveled somewhere else on the planet, but none were interested in striking out and seeing more of the galaxy. But I guess that was my first curse in life, not being satisfied with what was before me.
I left on a transport leaving the mid rim for point’s spinward and I had a shining optimism about my prospects. Doctors were always in need and with the war only 5 years in the past, people were starting to move back to abandoned areas. Some towns that hadn’t seen life in a decade were repopulating as mining and trade reopened. This activity also brought the criminal element with it.
I never expected to be the house doctor for some local criminal organization. Though ‘organization’ might be a stretch, these morons were nonetheless connected to a bigger group that called the real shots. It’s been a year since I was wrangled into this predicament and at least 6 months since I’ve been planning my escape.
Most criminals seem too dumb for real work, following orders suits them and the majority of them aren’t cruel for cruelties sake. Don’t get me wrong, they’ll kill in a heartbeat if ordered but to them it’s just following an order, not murder. So I made friends where I could, learned what they would teach me and planned my exit from this situation.
Of course, planning will only get you so far and I needed an opportunity if I had any real chance of escaping. Of course, what I got was motivation, not as good as opportunity, but a damn site more compelling. This motivation came in the form of the current boss’s son. This boss had only been in charge a couple weeks and was far more bloodthirsty than any other I’d seen in my time here. He ‘ascended’ to power in a ‘duel’ with the previous leader. I doubt the validity of the duel only because the blaster bolt exit wound was in the front of the dead man’s head.
A couple of the guys kicked open my door just after sunset, they were dragging a corpse. Tossing said corpse on the table the first guy in the room announced “It’s the boss’s son, said he’ll kill you if you can’t save him.” I shoo’d them out and got to work. I called the body a corpse because he was well and truly dead. He had a deep knife wound a couple inches below the sternum and the descending aorta had been nicked. Poor bastard had bled out almost immediately and in the 15 minutes it took to get to me he had passed well beyond my skills and the limitations of the equipment.
Realizing this was my time to leave, I quickly hung an IV bag and moved the Cardiac Control Unit to the bedside. The unit was usually for controlling a heart with an erratic beat, but in this case it would make the dead heart contract for a while…
Throwing the dead man’s blaster into my backpack and grabbing what I could I took a deep breath and opened my door.As expected the two thugs were standing in the hallway. I pointed at the body and told them “He’s stable for the moment, but I need some more supplies from the stockroom.” The relief in their faces when they saw a ‘heartbeat’ on the machine must have bought me some goodwill as they indicated for me to move on.
Traversing the building was nothing unusual and I reached the stockroom fairly quickly. I’d been learning to bypass locks from one of the guys and the exterior door of the stockroom had been my longtime target. This lock was really meant to be hard to defeat from the outside and I used a piece of scrap metal that I’d stashed away to short the lock. Easing the door open, I checked the roadway and was mildly surprised to find it deserted.
I can see the spaceport now, just a couple more blocks and I’ll be inside and looking for a ride. Everybody needs a doctor, right?