Hippocratic Oath

Today I had the pleasure of making a Fontus acquaintance at Concord Two; a Suzanne-Célestin contractor designated DOLOS, with whom I exchanged information and offered favours. It seems that the H-type-D/F non-physical entity, hereafter designated TARTARUS, has nestled itself into becoming a business partner of the dynasty. This poses an opportunity in the event that TARTARUS remains unaffected by Epimetheus' contractual termination: that of it being placed under Fontus counterintelligence. This crew does not need any more issues than necessary with that entity, and neither do I. Upon concluding this discussion, Asterion emerged from a rough night alongside a priest of Rainbow-Terminus. He had a plan to save his father from the C-type-IV parasite, and I agreed to perform the operation necessary to remove the parasite. It was apparent that no-one else was a qualified medical officer, aside from me, and I barely fulfil the criteria. Military first aid does not encompass brain surgery. Regardless, the risk was great to begin with, and I acquiesced to the captain's request. Damocles filled in as a surgical assistant. Contrary to my expectations, it went flawlessly, except for the process of revival that the priest was supposed to cover; it eventually worked by what I can only attribute to an inordinate amount of luck. I spent most of the day afterwards in a vomit-ridden daze.
 
When I was just about able to stand again, the others returned from the temple after having left Asterion's parents there. Damocles sought to investigate the city's Hellknight Order of the Nail, with which he and the others had some critical history. He convinced Kakia to accompany him, and so I felt compelled to follow if only to avert eventual misunderstandings. In that respect, I failed. The Order's headquarters had burned down after a small-scale pogrom, and Kakia lost interest. On the way back, Damocles ran into a former initiate of a local academy, who quizzed him about a deck of cards. In a usual bout of unthinking and malicious foolishness, he pretended to not know of what the initiate spoke of, and then produced the deck of cards that was the target of his inquiry; however, Damocles said that it was a normal deck of cards, and to prove its insignificance, asked him to draw a card. The man drew a jack of clubs with a skull on it; a spectre with a scythe materialised and instantly slew him where he stood. Damocles turned invisible and I had to deal with the fallout. The responding city guard was incredulous, but was unwilling to investigate the matter. Logically, he decided to throw the body in a well. Evident of an inefficient and lethargic government. I kept the card as a memento, and I WILL SHOW IT to Damocles everytime he is about to commit a mistake. Afterwards, I spoke with him about morality and logic. It was interesting, but not particularly enlightening; I used Russeleaux's baguette to explain my stance on the burden of proof, whilst he was more interested in the actual problem of the baguette.
 
Due to the surgery, I feel obliged to undertake the Declaration of Gareva. To put it in writing and in the vernacular,
 


 
This is an unprecedented step, though I will strive to make good on the oath. I am no doctor, but I must abide by their principles if I am to continue providing medical treatment and perform surgery; it is unethical to be in charge of somebody's health without having sworn by all the powers available to do your duty with accord and distinction! Of course, I need to confirm it verbally, and who better to officiate it than the captain?
 
Phrase of the day: FIRST DO NO HARM. Phrasing from the original oath. Somewhat difficult to live by under current circumstances.