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Author Topic: A helping hand [Arkin]  (Read 658 times)

A helping hand [Arkin]
« on: February 08, 2019, 05:35:19 PM »
|Year 844|

Seldom every part of a mission succeeds. Sometime, like during this assignment, everything goes wrong. In such situations you had to spontaneously come up with an alternative plan. Well, it wasn’t exactly an alternative and more dealing with the aftermath. The assignment was done, but it wasn’t over.

Tyler leaned against a wall close to the Garrison barracks, watching as members of this unit entered the building for dinner after their patrols. Most came back in pairs, until Tyler finally saw someone coming back alone. Tyler cut off the soldier and looked down at the young person, probably a recent graduate from the Training Corps. “Go inside and find Arkin Holt. Tell him that someone want to talk with him and will meet him at the back of the building”, Tyler stated and walked away, not giving the Garrison soldier a chance to react.

When he arrived at the backside of the building he sat down on a crate. Hopefully the soldier will do as he was told. Out of his uniform Tyler couldn’t simply walk in to the private quarters of another unit and the medical facilities weren’t a possibility, too. No one should know that he was in town. Still he needed some medical help or at least some supplies so that he can fix himself up enough to make it back to their current headquarter. When he thought about a solution to his injuries Tyler had remembered something he had heard in the past: Arkin Holt, a Garrison soldier known to have medical knowledge. He didn’t knew how much of this talk was true, but it was worth a shot. « Last Edit: February 08, 2019, 05:37:43 PM by Tyler Morgan »
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Re: A helping hand [Arkin]
« Reply #1 on: February 12, 2019, 01:19:17 AM »
"Begging your pardon sir!" Arkin looked up from his tea and smiled at the young soldier who had just approached him. Having come off the night watch, Arkin and his team were in the process of finishing their breakfast of eggs and toast.  He watched the young man salute and waited for a few seconds before nodded, "Yes? What's going on?"

"There is a man asking for you.  He said he'll meet you around the back."

Rahab, his second, laughed a little, "You're always so popular." While not really "popular", Arkin was often sought out by those needing the skills he possessed that were not cannon or battle related. He took another sip of his tea and shrugged, "Well I should go see what he needs. Rahab, can you make sure those reports get to Gustav and Anka?" The tall woman nodded and took another bite of her eggs, "Will do.

Having grown up in his parents apothecary shop and watched them, along with is grandparents, act as healers for the local community, Arkin had picked up a not insignificant number of skills. People would come to him if they did not want to deal with the actual medics. No judgment and less paperwork.

It took Arkin a moment to make it out the back of the building. As he stepped outside, he saw a man. Brushing his hair out of his eyes he approached the man and offered him a smile, "Hello there. Did you ask for Arkin Holt? That's me." Looking around, he found another crate and took a seat. He's knees and lower back hurt as he lowered himself down - ah getting older was chore. He looked younger than he was if someone was just glancing at him - but on close inspection, Arkin was showing some serious wear and tear. "What I can help you with?" « Last Edit: February 12, 2019, 01:22:25 AM by Arkin Holt »
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"But even yet I have so many miles to go."

Re: A helping hand [Arkin]
« Reply #2 on: February 13, 2019, 06:46:13 PM »
The minutes dragged on and Tyler cautioned himself to be patient. Moving around won’t do him any good. The improvised bandage on his arm, made from a part of his shirt, was already at its limit. Tyler felt blood slowly flowing down his arm. Likewise he felt the bruises and scratches all over his body, but the wound on his arm was the one worrying him he most. The cut was deep, probably needing stitches. The only good thing in this situation was that he had chosen to wear black clothes for the mission. A color that hid the blood.

When he saw a man approaching Tyler felt his body automatically stiffen. The fight had been too recent and Tyler was still on edge. “Yes, I did,” Tyler answered the question and looked the man up and down. Felt himself relax slightly after this short inspection. The man didn’t pose any danger, at least compared to his last encounter.

“Thank you for following my request to meet. I heard that you are skilled in medicine and I hoped you could help me in a certain matter.” Tyler shrugged out of his jacket and laid it down next to him. His left arm was covered with streaks of blood, partly dry and partly fresh. The sleeve on this arm was torn off and bound around the wound. Tyler removed it to show Arkin the cut that originated from a knife he hadn’t seen in his opponents hands. His face twisted slightly as he reopened the wound when removing the improved bandage, new blood trickling down the arm.

“I apologize in advance for the inconvenience. I need this wound treated off the records, but I don’t have the right equipment with me to do it on my own.” While Tyler appeared rough most of the time and disliked asking others for help, he decided on a direct but polite approach. That it would be difficult to stitch up the cut on his upper arm by himself, he didn’t mentioned. That much was obvious.
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Re: A helping hand [Arkin]
« Reply #3 on: March 19, 2019, 04:43:13 PM »
“Thank you for following my request to meet. I heard that you are skilled in medicine and I hoped you could help me in a certain matter.”

“Well...I always try and help where I can,” Arkin said with a small shrug. He had seen the young man stiffen slightly at his approach and was now very curious as to what this young man needed. Running a hand through his hair, Arkin added, “I think I can help with most issues - and if I can’t help, we’ll go to my parents. You can trust them.”

Arkin could not totally hide his surprise as the man took off his jacket and he saw what he had been talking about. A small intake of breath and soft, “Well then,” as he stood up to get a closer look at the wound. It was deep and looked like it needed a good cleaning as well as stitches. Arkin’s eyes met the man’s for a moment and he nodded, “I can help with that. We need to go up to my rooms though.”

“I apologize in advance for the inconvenience. I need this wound treated off the records, but I don’t have the right equipment with me to do it on my own.”

Off the record was something Arkin was used to. He kept no official records of those who came to him and what they needed. Personal notes - yes. But nothing that anyone else would see.  "Then we will probably want to take the back staircase."

The officer's wing of the barracks was quiet. Anka, Ian, Gustav, and the rest were all going about their duties or perhaps had a free day to run errands and visit friends and family.

Unlocking his door, Arkin let the man go in first. His quarters smelled like an apothecary shop and there were even bundles of herbs hanging from the ceiling.

"Have a seat near the window," Arkin directed the man, "I'll need the light."  He took a small kettle and lit a few candles, then set it over the flames to boil.

As he rummaged through boxes, he asked, "I don't suppose you'll tell me your name? You know I'm Arkin Holt...what should I call you?"

"I'm going to clean the wound now," Arkin said as he poured the boiled water into a basin and added a few drops from one of the bottles that cluttered the shelves. He pulled up a seat next to the man and gently touched the skin around the cut, "It's good you came. This could get infected and that would be no good. I'm sorry, but this will hurt." Arkin began to gently dab the cut with a piece of clean linen soaked in the water.

"So...how does the other guy look?"
Logged

"But even yet I have so many miles to go."

Re: A helping hand [Arkin]
« Reply #4 on: July 05, 2019, 05:46:00 PM »
Tyler watched the other man carefully, after missing the knife during the fight he was still on edge and overly alert. The adrenaline of the fight vanished and the usual tiredness that followed was coming up slower than usual, the steady throbbing of his arm the reason behind it. He kept quiet when Arkin offered to go to his parents if necessary. No way would Tyler trust them, but he kept his mouth shut.

He grabbed his jacket and followed Arkin up the backstairs, relieved that the soldier accepted his wish for discretion. On the way up he surveyed the surrounding area, something he had learned early on in his training. His brain automatically created routes for escape and positions to hide or use to launch an attack from.

“Urg, I hate the smell of medicine,” Tyler grumbled as he entered the room and the familiar smell hit his nostrils. He didn’t like it, because it reminded him of all the small and big wounds he had treated since childhood. While the doctors of the past had worked in luxury clinics for the rich, nowadays he got his treatments in military clinics for official missions or in rooms like this or from a teammate for anything unofficial. He followed the instructions and pulled up a chair to the window. His jacket was thrown over the back.

“Mh…you probably deserve a name,” Tyler answered and considered giving out a fake one. The papers he carried had the name ‘Ethan Tailor’ on them. It was the identity he normally used and the MP had even registered it officially. He liked that the last name of this fake name sounded similar to his first name, it made it easier to react if someone called after him on the street. However, there was a minimal chance that he will meet Arkin in an official military context and he couldn’t risk Arkin revealing his fake identity by accident. “I’m Tyler. I won’t give you more,” he answered, trying an apologizing smile.

To a few things you just can’t get used to. The pain of cleaning wounds was one of those things for Tyler. He bit his bottom lip to keep in a pained gasp while taking deep breaths to relax his muscles as much as possible. “I’ve had had worse,” he played strong, pointing to the scar across his nose with his unhurt hand. “And I can already tell you are much better at treating wounds than my te-friends.” Nearly the word teammates slipped out if his mouth. He was out of uniform for a reason, so he couldn’t slip up.

“The other guys,” emphasize on the plural, “look much worse. Won’t be up to mischief anytime soon. Should have just done what I told them, instead of jumping me.” It had been his mission to get rid of some – fake – documents that would shine a bad light on the government.
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