Ask Coruscant Gimme a Hand Here

Dr Ilana Morata

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Suffice to say, even with everything going on, she was still susceptible to the calls of potential patients across the galaxy, and word of mouth was beginning to spread of the Doctor's capability. But, when her comm pinged the location of a potential patient making a housecall from the Deep Core, she was mildly surprised. The last time she had been on Coruscant... it had been some time ago, and it involved... Roman. If I were to guess, he was definitely...

That thought was cut short by the descent of her taxi, and the driver informing her. She paid her fee, and then wordlessly stepped out, one hand sliding into her pocket, the other gripping her bag. Instead of meeting at a house, the message said an alleyway.

She slipped her hand out of her pocket, and on one of her vibroknives. She was dressed in her professional armor, long white hair pulled away from her face. But she kept her senses out... waiting. Hoping that just once she was actually wrong, and she wouldn't have to thrash more gangsters and lose yet another potential patient.

Too much time spent on the Outer Rim. If this was some kind of sick joke to beat up a Doc, she'd be damned if she wasn't going to take a couple goons down with her at the same time.


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Lorcan

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Lorcan didn't often lean on his old friends from his old neighborhood to get favors. Despite what some people might think, Lorcan was a career orientated man and getting in trouble because you might have been spending too much time with people of the wrong sort? That was something that might effect his chances at promotion in the future no matter what anyone said about how results mattered more.

Results mattered, sure, but how you got those results mattered as well.

But this was something he needed confirming off the books before he brought it to anyone official. If he got a medical examiner from the local PD to investigate it then there would be paperwork and right now he didn't want paperwork, not until he was completely certain that whoever was involved was not pulling strings around here.

Setting up the meeting with the roaming Outer Rim doctor was a risk but he calculated it was less of a risk than putting himself in the sight-lines of some dirty cops. Spotting the doctor getting out of her cap, Lorcan wandered over. He wished he could smoke but he didn't want his face known so right now he was wearing his helmet alongside his armor.

"Doctor Morata?"
he called out to her, hand tightening on the straps of the backpack he was wearing, "I believe my friend called for you to attend to me. Are you ready to go?"


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Dr Ilana Morata

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Amber eyes flicked at a formal use of her name, slowly surveying the man from head to foot. At least, she assumed he was a man, based on voice and physicality... and he seemed remarkably whole for someone who wanted a mob doctor to attend.

"...That's me," she rasped, face impassive. Emotions from this neighborhood roiled around them; she extended them outwards, trying to read the man before her... but could get very little. There was self-confidence, sure, and assurance of their own identity and the anonymity of a helmet. "I assume I'm not here to treat anything standard," she spoke bemusedly, one white brow twitching up slightly. At least he wasn't bleeding out and playing hero; suicidal boneheads the lot of the galaxy was.

Beyond that though, she could glean very little from her newfound companion. Her eyes narrowed ever so slightly, but otherwise she appeared as calm as ever.
"Lead the way," came the dry response, and paced beside him, posture tall and features smoothed out to their usual deadpan stare.

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Lorcan

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She was a stoic one he would give her that.

He didn't say anything but he gestured for her to follow him without a word. Making his way through the winding side-streets of the lower levels was like riding a bike; you never forgot. After only a few moments they reached the destination he had picked out for them - a back alley clinic.

Was it criminal? Yes.

Was it wrong? No.

The clinic was run by a doctor who had been blacklisted for malpractice but the malpractice suit had been pushed through by some stuck up nerf-herder bigwig who had wanted his wife to die in an accident and the doctor had managed to save her life, even if he wasn't able to save all of her higher brain functions.

Long story short was that there was a clinic that asked no questions and went to someone who wasn't a bad egg. So when Lorcan paid upfront in credits he didn't mind so much. Making his way into the back room, which was set up as an examination room, Lorcan took off the backpack and set it down on the examination table.

"The doctor here is a friend and that's why I couldn't ask him to do this."
he informed her bluntly, "Tell me; what experience do you have with dissections?"


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Dr Ilana Morata

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At least he wasn't the chatty type, thank the stars.

She followed after him wordlessly, but it was only within moments that he led her to... another clinic. Funnily, not even a year ago she would have given up her left arm to even have a clinic like this... but now it hardly mattered. She simply followed, then arched a brow wordlessly at his blunt statement, which climbed higher at his question.

"Vivisection, dissection... even autopsy, if necessary," she rasped, releasing her hand from where her dagger rested on her hip to give him her usual flat, unassuming stare. "But I'm hoping that there's not a body in there," she gestured to the backpack, slowly crossing her arms, "Unless you wanted someone to literally rest in pieces."

Yeah, so her mouth was probably gonna get her killed one day. What else was new? But she was sick and tired of being dragged into clandestine meetings for things that she, though having skill in, was not certified for.

She was a karking thoracic specialty surgeon, after all, not some hack happy-go-lucky field surgeon.


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Lorcan

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Lorcan honestly found the joke funny but he was trying to be stone-faced here so he couldn't allow himself the laugh. Of course he smiled at the joke but he was wearing his helmet so it wasn't like she could tell. Instead of reacting verbally he reached into the backpack and pulled out the first thing within.

The first thing being a pair of kidneys.

He placed them on the examination table. Lorcan stared at them for a moment before turning one of them around, showing a massive 'growth' at one end of the kidney that was mirrored on the other.

"These kidneys were from a human male."
he told her with a grimace hidden by his helmet, "Except they are dangerously enlarged. I'm not sure if it's by surgery or what. All I know is that these growths?"

He poked them.

"Are adrenal glands."


Which were usually the size of coins at largest and were now over the size of fists. Lorcan pointed to the doctor.

"I need you to figure out one simple thing; how."



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Dr Ilana Morata

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Funny how she was getting a brief anatomy lecture from a helmeted stranger. Funnier still he kept going, poking at them... well, whomever had these were definitely dead, or if not dead, then definitely toxic enough to be dead. She didn't even blink when he just dragged organs out from his bag; briefly, she wondered just how long ago this particular victim had lived, because these kidneys had absolutely no lividity to them.

Ah. So she still was being used to find out information. She stepped up towards the table, then gave him a slow, steady stare, followed by a hum of contemplation.
"Thank you for the charming anatomy lesson. I'm sure the fellow you took these from was just as charmed." She set her bag down, opening it up to take up gloves, and pull on a face mask and goggles.

She shucked off her jacket, then pulled up a stool, setting down with a sigh.
"Well... hardly the least I've had to deal with the remains of a patient. But I'll see what I can do." She pulled up her datapad as well, and a diagnostic scanner. How wasn't the hard question. Why was the better one... and she was gonna need more than just a scalpel to find out.

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Yes yes, she was the doctor and he was the heavy but he wanted to also point out to her that just because he was the heavy here, it didn't mean he had no idea what was going on. She might be smarter than him on the medical side but it meant nothing; he would not be taken advantage of or lied to. He would get everything she could glean from the parts he supplied to her and she would give him the answer to the first big question.

The How.

Answering that would give him leads and the leads would lead him onward until he got the answer to the question that really mattered to him; Who. Who benefited from this level of disgusting experimentation? Who had ordered it?

"The fellow these belonged to tore three people apart with his bare hands."
he reported to her dully, "A human tore a Twilek's arm out of it's socket with his bare hands."

How?

That was the question he presented to her here.

He delved into the bag again and withdrew more flesh and disgusting internal parts. Tapping a section of muscle fibers, he frowned as he found them far stronger than they should be. Alongside this was the skull of the person in question which was fully lacking any skin - and thoroughly spiderwebbed with tiny cracks all along it.


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Dr Ilana Morata

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Ah, so this was some body in pieces in his bag. Somehow, she wasn't surprised.

She merely listened to what he had to say with an idle hum, amber eyes narrowed in focus. Yes, yes, fascinating... super strength and unnatural capability, sadly an unsurprising and honestly uninspiring way to create superbeings. And she was called in for the How... At least he seemed nettled that she noted his step into her territory.
These muscle-bound hardliners, telling me what to do... "Bare hands, you say?" She finally commented, glancing up to give him a calm stare.

She finally surveyed the stranger head to toe... and selected a scalpel, still eyeing him.
"Were they a friend of yours, the one that lost an arm?"

She doubted the usefulness of friends... once they began attaching themselves, most usefulness would begin to expire as they brought bonds into the mix... there were a few exceptions she had met, of course, the Grysk Malakai and a couple others... but their usefulness for her own ambitions often laid with their own. This stranger, however, had misinformed her, and therefore she found him even worse than useless.

She found him a nuisance, hovering around. She turned away, and began cutting into the first layer, pulling her mask and goggles on as she did so, thankful she at least had a waterproof apron on.

Some liquid slowly oozed out, and she took a sample in an empty vial, placing the vial in the diagnostic scanner. Within moments her datapad began a boot-up program, rattling off readings at a dizzy pace. She continued, past the surface layers, down to the underlying vascular structures.

It was then that she frowned, lips pursed.


"Hmm. Interesting..."

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Lorcan

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Lorcan sat back but he didn't leave the room.

The doctor he had hired might not be a part of any local conspiracy but he knew what he had on his hands was nuclear levels of problems waiting to happen. These mods together clearly made the assailant he had subdued stronger, faster and able to take far more punishment than anything he had encountered before. If he didn't miss his guess he would say that the creature he had fought had been a test run.

A trial to see if they could create a combatant who was far superior to anything their potential enemies could bring to the fight. The problem was that he didn't know how deep this all went - hence why he hadn't brought it to his superiors in the Rangers just yet. He wanted to have an idea just how much of the Galaxy he was going to be tearing up when it came to exposing the operation. If it was just one shady corporation then sure.

But if this was a corruption that settled over an entire planet? He wasn't sure if it would be worth the panic and the chaos it would cause to expose it.

"No."


He wished he could smoke but he wasn't going to take his helmet off.

"I didn't know any of the victims personally and I didn't know the attacker personally either. My interest is purely professional."



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Dr Ilana Morata

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Purely professional, huh?

She didn't even bother glancing in his direction; she was focusing on the task at hand, and it would be an hour before she finally stopped; the kidneys he gave her were neatly dissected, all parts exposed and laid out on the table like a grisly finger food display. The muscle fibers, too, had been meticulously picked through, as well as the skull examined thoroughly.

She shucked off her gloves, tossing them in the biohazard bin with her mask, then carefully washed off, pulling out a carton of cigaras when she did.
"Chem analysis will take a few," she commented, then put a cig to her lips, then a lighter. She slid a glance his way, then sighed.

"I'd offer you a smoke, but since you're playing mystery guy, I guess the point is moot."


She took a deep drag, then exhaled, amber gaze flat.
"I saw something similar to those..." She paused, then took another drag. "But these ones were brutal, bestial in a way that wasn't even passably humanoid." She exhaled again through pursed lips, then peered at the thin, vaporous smoke, sighing.

"What a karking basket case this guy must've been. If I didn't know any better, I'd say he was gene-modded to the point of stupidity. But then again, that galactic threshold is pretty low for the general populace." She could guess his alignment of professionalism... and wait out the guy meantime.

Why not. At least he wasn't a moronic bore.


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Lorcan

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Lorcan eyed her cigara behind his helmet's visor with absolute longing but he hid it well. He knew better than to try and smoke around the woman he was purposefully keeping in the dark about himself. The fact that the dissection part was done now was a weight off of his mind; he wasn't squemish but there was something about organs and muscles being rended down to strands and bits and pieces that just made his skin crawl.

Which was weird since it didn't have the same effect now that the process was actually completed.

He chuckled within the confines of his helmet.

"Brought my own anyway."
he assured her with a wave of his hand, "I'll grab my fix on the way back. Force forbid we lack our fix for more than a few hours, right?"

Looking at the chopped meat for a few moments he sighed.

"... he tore off his own skin around the upper arms, thighs and lower legs."
he told her quietly, "I think it was because they were over-heating or something but I just know that he didn't feel any pain from it and didn't bleed anywhere near as much as he should have done."

He scowled.

"And they can't be stunned."



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Dr Ilana Morata

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When he mentioned overheating, she turned fully to face him, and opened her mouth to ask something--

When the analysis beeped. She turned towards the readout, and frowned.

Then... he would see her visibly shudder, teeth gritted.


"He was modified... down to the genetic level."
She gritted her teeth, and visible anger flashed in amber eyes. She could feel the urge rise to release it, but she visibly wrestled it down, shoulders hunched. "So much so that whatever he was..." she swallowed, then turned to face him.

"I don't even recognize what species he was genetically by readout. If I hadn't seen these..."
she waved her hand towards the dissected organs, then sighed. "Whoever did this has deep pockets."

It was a no-duh situation she was sure, but it didn't make her any less furious.


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Yeah the final final result was exactly what he expected.

Being right was never much of a good thing when it turned out your pessimistic nature had been correct. He badly wanted a cigara but he wasn't going to be able to until later. It set his teeth on edge to keep his craving under control but he would be fine; he had only missed a fix once in the last five hours after all.

He was totally going to have one as soon as the doctor left however.

Still, he just stood there for a moment looking at his feet. Reaching into his pocket, he held out a packet of cigaras for the Doc to take one from even as he set a stack of credits down on the table with the other hand. He would use his lighter if she had chosen to take one but otherwise would just leave the credits on the table.

"This might turn out badly in the near future."
he admitted to her, "I'm aware of where they did these things and, now, the how of the deeds as well. I'll need to track down where the technology came from and then I'll be closer to closing this damned thing."

He sighed quietly.

"I might need you again - your com number going to still work in a few weeks?"


Honestly he wouldn't have put it past her to have a burner number.


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Dr Ilana Morata

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She took his offered cigara, lighting up to stare at the dissected remains for a small while. He admitted closing something... a case, perhaps? She had her suspicions, but hearing his words and terminology, she could only assume what he was on about was something that had him involved as more than some vendetta-driven civilian.

And if this was off the books, how long before she would be thrown under a bus for violation of the law? Not that she cared, prison was just another place to survive, they just made you wear horrible jumpsuits.

She blinked at the credits, but then turned to her bag. Out came a pen and a slip of paper: with it, a new number. She tapped one nail on it, her amber eyes calm, almost expressionless.


"Call me when you need me again... see you later, cowboy."


With that, she gathered her soiled equipment into the biohazard for later resterilization, her diagnostic scanners and everything she had brought with her... and the stack of credits.

She didn't even leave the butt of her previous cigara there. It was like she had never been there... and she vanished out into a drizzly Coruscant evening alone once more.


//End Thread

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