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Fathom's Phantoms Fall Out

Victor had always considered dual-assignment to be the identifier of a great man but the Cat hadn't truly given much thought about just what went into managing two medical bays on a station the size of Sigma-Echo. After handling the two positions for the better part of two weeks he finally began to gain an appreciation for just how insane someone had to be to seek out such an arrangement. Well... insane, or insanely gifted; Victor, of course, considered himself to be in the second category.

Very few doctors were regarded to be in high enough demand to warrant control of two separate offices but Doctor Victor Cortez had his name on both his old Ghoul-Deck 'chop shop', and the much more reasonably stocked mid-station medical bay. It had taken a number of trips to transport needed supplies into his new office but he was willing to overlook the extra work thanks to the additional prestige a second practice provided.

While most people might have found it somewhat ironic that the med bay the Cat had burgled during the VAC raid would end up becoming his (assuming they had the ability to know), he chose instead to look at it like manifest destiny: Victor had taken what he desired and the rest had been given to him... all it required was the well-placed sabotage of a security guard left untreated on the previous doctor's watch. She had been relieved of duty even though she hadn't been on duty when he showed... the powers-that-be hadn't bothered to realize that someone else could have administered 'triage', and that someone was the new doctor in charge.

If there was one major problem in running two offices, the Cat had made up his mind early on that it was the travel time. Not only did the walking followed by the tram ride and then more walking eat up his work time but having to deal with the holier-than-thou security check points made it even worse. True, Commander Vanessa was considered lax compared to any other officer Victor had ever encountered but there were so few Orange Suit workers heading toward mid-station that each of the stops along the way made it almost guaranteed that the good Doctor was going to receive SOME kind of harassment.

What made the problem worse was that the Cat was expected to spend time at each office, twice a day. This meant that he would work down in the lower station med bay for two hours, then spend the better part of an hour traveling up to mid-station, stay there for two hours, make another trip back to the Ghouls where he'd spend another two hours, and then once more back up to mid-station for his final shift. Eight hours of work and almost four hours of travel... it was something that he hadn't really expected when he accepted management of two separate med bays, but it was just another obstacle to overcome.

The Cat sighed to himself as these thoughts ran through his head. There were challenges in every part of life for just about anyone-- no reason he should be the exception. Yes, he had to admit that he'd certainly had his fair share of them, but, as he'd heard before, only the truly gifted individuals were given the truly exceptional challenges. If that was true then there was no doubt about it: Victor was one of a kind. As usual, that rationalization improved his mood and he began whistling to himself as he pulled several body parts out of the medical transportation bag he carried and began organizing them for storage.

One major benefit of running the clinic down with the Ghouls was the simple boon of having ready access to fresh supplies. The station was so far out in deep space that it was LITERALLY impossible to get vat grown organs. The Cat had believed that it was imperative to be able to improvise; the mortality rate among the red-suited industrial workers was high enough that designer body parts were a completely unnecessary luxury. A surplus of replacement limbs and a good stockpile of internal organs had gained the Cat a position of esteem and his work with the Overseer's Geneticon's helped secure it.

The cat smiled to himself, tugging at his whiskers with one paw as he closed and locked the storage freezer. "Oh, Jennifer..."

Despite the variety of relationships Victor had managed during what little free time his life had given him Humans had never particularly generated any real desire in him. Jennifer Thurstenburger, however, had managed to awaken in him a keen interest; she was rich, and powerful, and had resources at her disposal... but, most of all, he was in her favor... and THAT could not be overlooked as one of the most important aspects of what made a woman desirable-- well... especially once that was combined with the rest of those things, the doctor reminded himself.

Victor's thoughts were disrupted as his PCD alerted him to an incoming communication and he glanced to it. As if his benefactor had been able to listen in on his mind and know that she was on it, Overseer Thurstenburger was reaching out to him. The fact that she didn't run screaming was the paranoid Cat's proof that she couldn't read his thoughts, and, with that in mind he answered the call using his most official, most gracious tone with a hint of a purr... specifically on the last word. "Why, Overseer Thurstenburger-- to what do I owe the... pleasure?"

The Overseer, as usual, was all business, "We have a mining freighter on approach. The D.C.S. Largess just cleared the planet's antumbra and the station's scanners picked it up on an approach vector."

The Cat was rather confused by the announcement; he had nothing to do with handling shipping logistics or docking procedure so why would she be telling HIM this? Instead of commenting bluntly on that question he used a little more tact, "Several men and women returning to the station? Should I schedule physicals for them?"

If Overseer Thurstenburger managed to detect any of the sarcasm the Cat had failed to keep out of his tone she didn't let it show. "We're waiting to get a clear scan of the freighter after they leave Echo's penumbra but for now we aren't getting any communication from the ship and we don't want to rule out the possibility of injuries."

Jen was FINALLY talking his language. More stimulating than if she'd offered him a late night massage, the Overseer had Victor's attention. "I can have an emergency response trolley ready for deployment to the shuttle bay in under an hour."

The first hint of a crack in the Overseer's armor was audible as he heard a hint of concern in her voice, "The Largess isn't responding to any channel and right now we have the ship on an auto-guided landing trajectory."

The Cat was not skilled in the ways of space travel or ship-to-station procedures but even HE knew the difference between landing and docking; he was unable to resist the compulsion to ask the obvious question, "So... they're not heading for a shuttle bay?"

"Emergency shuttle return protocol always has a ship land on the a planetward platform."

The comment left Victor at a loss as 'ship-speak' was not his forte. "I take it, Overseer, that is a no?"

Ms. Thurstenburger sighed with obvious frustration. "The Largess is landing on a platform and an umbilical is going to be extended to their airlock."

Victor did not miss the woman's breach of professionalism and he latched onto it faster than a medieval healer's blood-letting leech. "Is everything alright, Overseer? You sound as if you are tense."

She recovered quickly enough that her next words were even. "I'm fine. Thank you, Dr. Cortez... I'm just very... busy."

He nodded emphatically despite the fact that the communication did not include picture. "Of course... of course... just remember that you need to be at your best... we're all relying on you."

"I understand. Thank you for your concern, Doctor."

The Cat licked his muzzle, quite willing to press his advantage. "If you need anything, please do not hesitate--"

Her response bordered on the first emotional outcry of frustration. "Thank you, Doctor. I don't need the reminder."

Victor was not willing to let it rest... not when things were suddenly that much more interesting. "I understand that you have gone off of a medication you've been using for a number of years... is that correct?"

Jennifer's answer was very curt and to the point. "Please remain on call and await further word for when we have more information on the shuttle."

She disconnected the communication without awaiting a reply. The action actually brought a smile to the Doctor's face.

He casually slipped his PCD back into his lab coat pocket, his purring flowing through his entire body at that point. During his many conversations with the LHI Geneticons, Victor had learned that Overseer Jennifer Thurstenburger, like his manufactured patients, had been making use of a hormone retarding drug for most of her adult life and for over a week she hadn't even taken a partial dose. With the chemical's half-life for metabolization at less than two weeks it wasn't at all abnormal to expect her to be 'cranky'... but that was only a minor side effect.

Victor didn't know much about the LHI proprietary HID serum but he'd had a chance to study it thanks to the Overseer's Geneticons... and that meant that he had an idea of what other side effects would follow, and that meant something very specific, "That girl's gonna be pretty hard up before long..."

The Cat chuckled to himself as he put together his collection of medical supplies in preparation for the shuttle's return. As he did so, Dr Cortez also began making a mental list of what it would take to find the right time and place to cross paths with the Overseer... after all, Victor had always figured that one of the best ways to get on a woman's good side was to be there for her when she desperately needed something-- especially convenient when that 'something' was sex. For many reasons the Cat figured he would benefit greatly from spending a little extra time with her while she was detoxing.

* * * * * *

In his opinion Kamrn hadn't done anything exceptional to warrant the improvement in quarters but he certainly didn't mind the upgrade. While his old apartment was scarcely more than a bedroom with attached bathing chamber and toilet his condo in the executive deck was something more befitting of... well... an executive. He had a vast bedroom, an enormous living room, and a kitchen with the same square footage of his prior quarters. More than anything else, however, Kamrn reveled in his bathing chamber, which had a shower and a bath and an entire rack of body oils, both scented and de-scenting.

He was in the room for four hours until he next heard from Captain Nida, who came to visit him personally. The door opened for her without any signal or knock which meant that she caught him in the middle of his exercise routine: the nineteenth form of the Gru-Hlro, a martial meditation involving exhausting body movements and muscle control; despite having had the worst offenders of his Gorumn scent glands removed Kamrn immediately worried that he was not presentable for the captain's inspection... or for the second guest that followed her in.

The Tiger casually slid into the room behind the Vojoi Captain; although he was by no means tall the Geneticon still had more than a foot and a half on the small, gray woman and was hardly subtle about joining her in Kamrn's apartment. Tapping his muzzle in thought and peering at the security officer through wire framed glasses, the 'esteemed' Dr. Surresh Makowi addressed the captain, "So... this is the Sergeant?"

Kamrn cleared his throat, "Hello, Captain Nida... are you here for a casual visit or is this more a--"

The Voljoi didn't bother waiting for him to finish, "Station business."

The Gorumn nodded, rubbing the sweat on his arm, "Do I have time to shower first? I do not want to offend you with--"

She interrupted him again, "We won't be here long."

"Yes, Captain."

Despite Captain Nida's obvious disinterest in pleasantries, Dr. Makowi was quick enough to take a seat on one of the sofas that had come with the apartment, "Hmm... very nice apartment, Sergeant... I'm told it's much nicer than your last one."

Kamrn kept his growing frustration in check; he tolerated being kept in the dark... he disliked it when others knew more about him than he knew about them... and he HATED having strangers impose upon him... especially when he was not in a condition to host. He responded to the tiger's question flatly, "It is an illimitable improvement."

Dr. Makowi's ears went up immediately, "Oh! 'Illimitable'... I can see we are working with a man of some education."

The Gorumn managed to avoid frowning as he responded without emotion, "Maybe I'm just trying to impress you."

The smirking Tiger was about to offer a remark, but Captian Nida interrupted him by speaking first. "Sergeant... I need you to join a contingent of support staff heading down to the station sub levels... we have a freighter making an emergency landing in a few hours."

Kamrn knew station protocol and realized something was up but he wasn't about to ask questions of the Station Captain; it wasn't his place to demand answers from the highest ranked member of the ship's command team. "Yes, Captain."

Once she heard his confirmation the Voljoi woman about-faced and left. Dr. Makowi lingered a few moments longer. "I understand you must be very confused... but please do not misconstrue our lack of discussion as a lack of trust."

Kamrn provided a very non-committal answer. "Not my place to second-guess the Captain."

The Tiger smiled amicably. "Ah... well go ahead and second guess me then... I am more than used to it."

The Gorumn maintained his monotone. "I don't need permission to do that."

Dr. Makowi was silent for a moment, then burst into laughter. Standing up, the Tiger approached and reached up to rest a paw on Kamrn's shoulder, "There are three important things you need to know, my friend--"

The stranger in front of him had entered the station with a VAC assault team, and suddenly he was working alongside the Captain? It didn't make sense, and Kamrn didn't like when things didn't make sense. He reached up and brushed the Tiger's paw off of his shoulder. "I'm not your friend, Doctor Makowi."

The Doctor continued to smile, rubbing his two paws together as his nose worked faintly at the air. "Fair enough, Sergeant... perhaps that may change in time... but, nevertheless, there are three important things for you to know."

The Gorumn crossed his arms over his chest, hypersensitive to the way the Tiger's nose worked, "And they are?"

Standing barely two feet from him, Dr. Makowi continued speaking despite obviously taking notice of Kamrn's scent. "First, the freighter you're being sent to help with is the D.C.S. Lagress... it's on an emergency return route... fully automated."

The Gorumn nodded. "That explains the landing site."

The Tiger nodded as well, continuing. "Second, we have not yet been able to establish communication with the ship and assume everyone on board is dead, disabled, incapacitated, or any combination thereof."

Kamrn nodded again, this time with a grunt. "And third?"

Dr. Makowi smirked, turning around to head for the door. The Tiger's tail flicked once, brushing across the security officer's thigh as he passed by. "I find 'Gorumn' to be a perfectly acceptable aroma."

The comment was completely out of line with the other information so it took Kamrn a few moments to catch on to what the Tiger was saying. What took even longer for recovery was the Doctor's follow up comment, spoken completely in the security officer's native language. "I suppose I will see you at the landing pad, Sergeant Kamrn."

* * * * * *

Lydia trudged along with her hands in her pockets and her head down, frustrated and indignant. Regardless, she was moved along at a quick pace alternating between scuffing the soles of her shoes against the metal corridor floor and stomping each step. Behind her marched a massive organic wall of a security guard: an enormous, green skinned, dour-faced bruiser whose name tag read only "Blake". The young lady knew that it wasn't the Gorumn's real name but she wasn't about to bother asking for it-- considering she was being 'detained' she was fairly certain she wouldn't get it anyway.

The security guard broke the silence by clearing his throat, and followed the sound up with something that bordered on a threat. "They say you like running... if you're thinking about it let me know so I can break one of your legs."

She ran a hand across her wrist where she would normally have a typing bracer; it was one of the first things the big green bastard had taken from her, followed by her PCD. Rather than respond to his question she chose to change the topic. "I want to know why I can't have my bracer."

Her escort responded in a matter-of-fact tone, "You can ask the Commander when she shows up at your holding cell for the interrogation."

They took several more steps before the Gorumn actually added, "But, seeing as you're on record as a cyber terrorist I can make a guess."

Lydia rolled her eyes despite the fact that the security guard was walking behind her and couldn't see. "You're starting to sound like my mom... she always spent more time focusing on rumors than the truth. I'm starting to wish you'd talk more like my dad."

Gorumn weren't know for small talk but apparently 'Blake' thought that keeping her talking would be safer than letting her scheme quietly; she figured he was probably right. "How does your dad talk?"

The programmer smirked. "No idea... he left when I was three."

"Then how would--"

She quickly added "That means I wish you'd leave."

The Gorumn grunted, either not getting the humor or choosing to ignore it. "I have orders to escort you so I won't be leaving."

The two continued on in silence through the near-empty corridors. Without a PCD Lydia was forced to look at the watch she always kept in reserve; it was late. Walking the halls was a rare experience for her-- she usually stayed in her personal quarters or spent hours in the coding room. It was probably one of the many reasons why she had been such an easy target for the misguided inquest to root out some kind of system saboteur.

The silence finally broke when 'Blake' announced their destination, pointing at a sign with an arrow facing to the right. "The tram station is up ahead."

She crossed her arms defiantly, leaning against the corridor wall as she inquired "And then I can continue on by myself?"

Once again he either ignored or didn't understand the humor. "No. I am to stay with you until you arrive at your holding cell."

Lydia lost any interest in jesting and she continued on again in silence. In the scheme of things she tried to convince herself that 'Blake' wasn't the worst escort she'd ever had... except for the smell-- it was god-awful. Coupled with the fact that he had confiscated every electronic device she had (excluding her watch)-- and he was making a very good case for it-- and she had enough of a history with law enforcement that there was quite a list of contenders... and, yes, except for the fact that 'Blake' didn't seem too quick on the uptake he was still pretty high up on the list.

With little more to be said, she continued following the large guard but came to a stop when the doors to the tram station opened to the sound of a very vigorous scuffle. She waited passively as the Gorumn looked to two men dressed in orange jumpsuits rolling around on the ground, trading blows as they grappled.

Lydia stared at the spectacle. "Now I remember why I hate people so much... What exactly IS this?"

'Blake' scowled, "A disagreement."

She flicked some of her blue-dyed bangs away from her eyes. "If that's a disagreement I can see why they're both wearing orange."

The Gorumn gave her a light shove toward the tracks. "Track five, Ms. Parker. Wait there. The tram is coming and we can continue on our way."

With little else to do, Lydia strolled over to where 'Blake' had indicated and turned to watch the two workers wail away; blood was starting to flow. By that point the young lady realized that she never would have been anywhere near the altercation if not for the whole stupid situation involving corporate security.

'Blake' had positioned himself between her and the two fighters, who apparently quite willing to ignore the two travelers had somehow managed to get back up to their feet still exchanging blows the whole while. "Once we step off the tram we will head down the left hall and that leads to detention center.."

Rather than acknowledge the Gorumn she instead focused her attention to the tunnel. "I think I hear the tram."

If the Gorumn was paying any attention to her he didn't indicate a response. His eyes remained on the two men beating one another black and blue... but he finally did notice the tram when one of the fighters grabbed the other by the uniform and threw him onto the tracks.

Lydia let out a cry of surprise and alarm, raising her arms in front of her face to absorb the worst of the spray of blood that hit them like a blast from a pressurized can. She remained stunned for a moment, but, by the time she had recovered her wits, 'Blake' was already quick into motion.

The Gorun stalked right toward the remaining Ghoul. "Stop right there."

It was readily apparent that the surviving man was not interested in waiting to be arrested. He turned and ran... but was nowhere near as fast as the charging security officer. 'Blake' crashed into the Ghoul's back with a forearm, knocking him flat onto his face. Lydia winced reflexively when the man fell hard on the ground.

In as split second, the Gorumn was atop the runner, knee on his neck. He began to tie the man's wrists together behind his back with something that looked surprisingly similar to the wire organizing straps that Lydia used on her computer. The programmer truly realized in that moment that she was fortunate not to have inadvertently made the guard angry.

Although 'Blake' was still focused on his new prisoner he did call over his shoulder. "I'll be there in a moment. I need to radio this guy in to dispatch... don't go anywhere."

Lydia, of course, wasn't particularly interested in following orders. While the security guard's back was turned the Human pulled a spare typing bracer out from between the seams of her leather girdle and stepped onto the automated tram. Considering she had her bracer and the tram didn't have any advanced security protocols it didn't take long for her to gain control of its operating system.

Back on the station platform 'Blake' seemed to notice her activity for the first time. The Gorumn turned to look at Lydia just as the tram's doors were closing... a full minute ahead of schedule. "Hey!"

Lydia waved from behind the closed doors, doing her best to shout to him as the tram pulled away from the station. "Thanks for the date, but you're just not my type!"

The young woman realized that there would likely be hell to pay for her little stunt but she also realized they'd have to catch her first. ALVIN spoke up from the bracer. "You did an excellent job with the tram override, Lydia."

She smirked. "Thank you. I think so too."

The Human smirked and chose the closest seat to the door. She had several stops until she would be enough corridors and decks away from pursuit so she decided to bide her time. As the seconds passed she pondered whether 'Blake' would be in more trouble for losing her or if she would be in more trouble for eluding her "guide". Well... considering the fact that they sent a Gorumn after her Lydia figured she was already in big trouble as it was.

Putting the thought out of her mind the young lady stuck in her ear buds. "Play something good, ALVIN."

The program complied. It was a shame, Lydia thought, that people in general weren't as accommodating as computer programs.