...what.

What.

How.  How did this set of valuable components - some of them special enough to merit an entire chapter in the book on computing, not even electronics, computing, this electrical magic - just get left here.  For days.  With nobody coming back for it.  It's not even a dead drop!  It's just sitting there!

...She picks it up.  It can go in the sack.  And it will go somewhere afterwards.  She's not sure where, yet.

The likeliest explanation is probably that the original owner is dead.

Bordertown remains as Bordertown was. There's a fight happening in one of the clearings, people gathered around and betting. The pace is clearly picking up on Mercy Crew's hill, though the triage line is only a few people long thus far.

If it's just a brawl, she leaves it be; people do that sometimes.  If it's worse than that she might intervene.  Otherwise she's going to sell off her refurbished metals all quick-like, and make her way up to the hill.

Selling quick-like means people think they can haggle her down! She can get $65 for various refurbished items.

The guard is a woman she hasn't seen before, but she seems to recognize her. "Kyra, right? I was told you'd be showing up to help do triage and maybe help with some of the procedures."

She's not in a visible hurry, just in a mental one.  But $65 isn't a bad return, either way.

"That would be me, yes.  Did they mention which procedures?"

"I don't know, really. I'm just here to look intimidating. I'm sure there's lots of stuff that an extra pair of hands are good for. Sorry."

Aww, that's surprisingly cute of her.  "Don't fret; I'm sure someone will know.  Hopefully they'll tell me before it comes up, huh?"  (...No, she should not ruffle the other woman's hair, despite how cute that was.  That would be positively uncouth.  And hardly contribute to the desired image of intimidation.)

"Anywhere I can safely leave some things I'd rather not be carrying around while I work, by the way?"

"Uh, not really. Well, maybe Heron will take it somewhere for you, they have a locker or something. Just not for newbies they don't quite trust yet."

"A sensible policy.  I trust you well enough to risk that, at least.  Where is Heron?"

She points to the shower area, more specifically the pick-up truck next to it on which the big water tank is mounted.

"Renny pokes his head out to check for new patients every couple minutes, I think you can go deal with that, at least."

She nods, and heads herself thataway.

Heron is talking to two other people in scrubs sorting through an open crate that was apparently just stuffed with random medical supplies, taking everything out into neat piles.

She turns and raises an eyebrow at Ophelia, then waves her over.

"Don't want to be hauling this," she dangles the sack demonstratively, "around all day, especially while I'm doing triage; heard you have somewhere people you trust further than me can leave their random stuff so it's moderately secure from theft.  I don't suppose I could impose upon you to leave this in there while I'm working."

She is careful to not touch the supplies with her - uh, anything, actually - unless they're clearly in sealed wrappers.

They're mostly sealed.

"-I can stick it in the break room. Or my locker, I guess, but you're right. It's not a formal approval process or anything but yeah, no." She is frowning as if trying to discern what Dr. Anno sees in her.

"I would greatly appreciate it if you did so."  And she will hand over the sack?  It mostly has a box in it; it's also knotted up rather deftly.  "I know you don't trust me, and rightly so; I am choosing to trust you nonetheless, because if there is anyone worthy of trust sight unseen it must be those who have a consistent history of acting for the public good at their own expense, or else no one.  Thank you, Heron."

"I regret that name more and more every day," she mutters. But then nods and takes her sack. "Well, things will be picking up soon, so it's good to have you. Let's get to it."

She goes into the tent area, after pressing her thumb to a pad so it lets her in.

She gives a firm nod, and needs no further conversation.

She does triage quickly and efficiently.

She can witness a screaming match between two tourists, a couple- The man is accused of being a total dumbass who doesn't understand basic gun safety and now she's deaf in one ear, and the woman is accused of being a hypochondriac who can't wait one stinking hour to get into the city and see a proper doctor, and they're now trying to scream to get to the front of the line.

...If someone will handle triage for a moment.  Thank you, she'll be right back.

She is pushing them apart with the weight of her presence before they know it.

"Good afternoon, lady, gentleman, I can assure you that the staff here have all relevant accreditations, but if you continue to disrupt the proceedings here you will not be allowed to benefit from their attentions.  What, exactly, is your complaint?  As I certainly am under the impression that temporary deafness or loss of auditory sensitivity from loud noises is not a time-sensitive matter to treat, and indeed is often not possible to treat without facilities we do not have here, this being an ad-hoc charitable mission without any specialized facilities, whose work you are disrupting with your...marital dispute."

"We ain't fucking married and now we're never gonna be! As if I'd marry him after this SHITSHOW!"

"Look, girl, there's no arguing when she's like this. We have cash and we have an urgent need yeah? Hundred bucks, front of the line, and we're out of the way in a few minutes. Win win win yeah?"

"I am GOING to be seen by a DOCTOR or you'll all regret it."

"You see what I have to deal with? Tell you what, two fifty! We'll be out of your hair in no time and it's probably more than the rest of this lot can offer."

The guard who greeted her earlier takes this opportunity to pump her shotgun with a loud and menacing ker-clak.

"For two-hundred fifty dollars, I can certainly ensure you will quickly be triaged," directly into the least damage/non-urgent bucket, "and seen by the next doctor available for your case.  In exchange, you will cease making a scene, or you will be seeking care within the city.  Agreed?"

Ophelia, to be clear, does not stand idle while the guard looms on her behalf.  No, she draws herself to battle stance, and stares a piercing danger into the woman's eyes.

You will not get past her by mere shouting.

"They're disrespectin' me! Babe, you gonna let them disrespect me?"

"I'm trying to save you from yourself, woman! You're gonna get your ass beat again! And deserve it as usual!"

"So now it's MY fault you nearly fuckin' SHOT me?"

"I'm glad you're paying attention! We can deal with this, just listen-"

"Listen! You want me to LISTEN! With my EARS? That you SHOT OUT?"

They seem likely to continue unless interrupted.

Fates preserve her, this woman has no sense.

"I say this with exactly the amount of respect you are due: shut up.

"If you are unwilling to consider my generous offer, then you will be seeking another source of care.

"This is not a business.  No-one working here is obliged by anything other than their goodwill to be of help to you at all, and that is a resource that you are sorely taxing with your puerile display.

"Am I understood."

Yeah she is intimidated enough to penetrate the screen of senselessness. She blusters some more, and complains all the way, but allows herself to be metaphorically dragged away by her boyfriend. Why he puts up with it is anyone's guess.