[right][h3]Daro'Shuris nar Konesh[/h3][/right]
Daro was a doctor, and doctors had to bloody their hands – in more ways than one.

She could pinpoint the moment that the wounded Quarian fell from uncomfortable stability to approaching certain death, with nothing she could do about it. That point was well before he started hacking up his tenderized lungs again, which were silent, calmed for only a few minutes after the medigel's effects. That wasn't working. The stimulants to try and spur his innards into fighting on weren't working. But more pressing than that was the mark of death itself that any of her people could hear, attuned to the noise: the low, sputtering hum of an envirosuit too damaged to contain life.

The warning beep of her omnitool signalling that antibiotic levels in his suit were already too low to effectively prevent his body from infection was easily ignored. Daro could pretend. She could pretend that nothing was wrong, that she was still doing her job as medic as she tried to patch him up again – perhaps she would even succeed, for a time. And then, when the man was out of sight, he could die with rot in his veins and complete and utter indignity.

No, she couldn't do that. She couldn't do that at all.

Daro waited for the fight to end with a sense of dread, ultimately doing as the human ordered at the very beginning of the fight and, 'staying down'. Shotgun on her back again and pistol out, she aided the team as much as she could for being pinned behind cover: a few shots here or there, not entirely accurate; a damping field to panic their enginners (if Vorcha could even [i]be[/i] engineers); and, of course, keeping her head down so as not to be noticed.

When the fighting had subsided with a final spray of bullets, it was clear to her that Masf knew he was going to die. Daro continued trying, though, an injection of a medicinal compound that – if it didn't work – was her last hope. It made little difference, possibly only making it easier for the Quarian to address Nik without gasping for breath after every word. She moved away, stretching out her back from the stress it had been in, hunched over and focused entirely on her work.

And then she froze like a deer caught in the headlights at the Masf's request. One hand was palming her pistol nervously now, a slight note of barely-concealed distress in her voice as it crackled through the translator. "I can do that," Daro said quickly before anyone else offered, inclining her head in sombre understanding. She turned to Nik. "It's okay. It's my duty, not just as a Quarian but... as a doctor, too. It's nothing I haven't had to do before." She crouched back down. [i]It's for the best.[/i]

"When I return to the Flotilla, I will find them for you, on the Halazi. I swear it." Daro was not a good liar, but she mustered up all of her hopes of the future – of not being a waster on the edge of the galaxy for the rest of her life – to pretend that she would [i]definitely[/i] end up returning to the Migrant Fleet. A good bedside manner required sincerity, and at least she tried. Tapping on her omnitool, she took full control of the other Quarian's envirosuit.

A shock to the system would dispel any pain – a more benign use than in combat. She'd never been shot in the heart before for a lethal blow but she could only assume there was [i]some[/i] discomfort involved.

"And... They will easily forgive you, I think."

It was quieter than she expected, as she pulled the trigger. Faster, too. Before it would have been the slow drip of chemicals, a bittersweet smile of thanks from the patient as they slipped away. This was violent. She exhaled sharply, stowed her pistol safely in its strap and folded her arms behind her back. Flexing her fingers, the omnitool's disheartening flat-line from the diagnostic program shut itself off.

Daro had never been more thankful for the privacy of her mask to conceal, well, emotions in general. Her voice wobbled, but with a forceful cough she returned it to stability. Everything was fine, and everything would be fine. "I'm ready to go whenever you are."