Conflict of oaths Pt I
Posted on Mon Feb 17th, 2020 @ 11:25pm by 1st Lieutenant Gabriel Stewart MD
Edited on Thu Feb 20th, 2020 @ 11:43pm
Gabriel looked at the tallies of the wounded. The numbers for the Alliance were increasing slowly, which was expected. The numbers for the Independents (he hated the term "Browncoats") grew faster, percentage-wise, than he had ever seen.
Grabbing a med kit, Dr. Stewart headed for the door, stopping just short of opening it. Looking down at the small table, he closed his eyes for a moment, took a deep breath, and reached for the latch. Suddenly his hand seemed to take on a life of it's own; it moved away from the latch and grabbed the knurled knob on the top drawer of the table. Yanking it open almost to the point of spilling the contents, "Scotch" reached for a bottle ... the one with the least amount of contents. Uncapping the bottle with his teeth, he took a long, slow drink, wincing several times at each swallow.
Finally, the contents were drained. Tossing the empty bottle in the trash receptacle, his hand now wiped across his lips, then, reaching for the latch, opened the door and stepped out into ... carnage.
He started in the direction of a scuffle that was going on some yards away when something in the shadows caught his eye. He could barely make out the figure, but he could see the blood stains on the ragged clothes.
Suddenly the eyes of the figure turned directly on him, widening as they slowly gained understanding of what they saw. Fear filled those eyes, followed by anger, then a hint of helplessness and hopelessness.
Gabriel looked at those eyes, then, glancing down at his med kit, slowly began to raise the kit, showing the figure the emblem that was tarnished from years of use, hoping that the figure would realize that, despite their differences in clothing, the good doctor was willing to help.