[The Exchange][Flashback]The Good Doctor

[Aaron Corinth]

Clark sat in the office, deep in the underworld of Corulag. The office was more a dilapidated old shack than something any official doctor would be seen in. However, unfortunately for Clark, his medical license had been pulled under false intentions long before his time. He straightened up a few things in his operating room before returning to his office. He sat placing his feet on the desk. He closed his eyes leaning back thinking, What am I doing? I know these guys are up to no good but they pay quite well and everyone knows I need the capital, my supplies have run quite short from the old days.

He picked up the closest magazine and began to flip through it absentmindedly. He stopped at an article and began to read when his communicator alerted letting him know he had a call. He grasped the communicator and answered, "Corinth."

"Doc, we have a big problem, we are bringing a patient in to you, he is critical so have the operating room set up," the voice demanded from the other end.

He sighed and spoke, "Alright bring your guy, I"ll fix him up. I need my compensation though and because of the hour it will be double the price."

He returned to the operating room preparing his various tools he sat on the tray. He held the scalpel for a moment remembering all the times he had utilized the tool. He set the scalpel down and began to put on his surgical attire. He tied the mask and sat on the edge of the table waiting for the individual to enter.

 

[Srota]

The battle had been hard fought, people had died, both those whom had supported him and those who had backed up those false pretenders who claimed to have been looking out for the best interests of the Exchange. Bah! He had said, he knew the truth, those men and women had died for a false idol, for a man who did not exist anymore. The truth had been simple, they had all been deceived, but the man who was to take command of the Exchange had learned the truth. It was something far more insidious and horrible than they could have known.

War had come to the Exchange, as the unnamed man led a coup against those who had taken part in this conspiracy. They had spent months, years even, inserting themselves into every rank of the organization and into every branch. He himself had worked his way up to becoming the personal agent of one of the bosses. That had been difficult enough for him, but the constant act of bending to their every whim when he knew the truth had nearly broken him. Finally, though, on this night, his plans had come into place, and he had struck, explosions had rocked the sky on numerous worlds, as ships, buildings and people burned. He had led a small group to find the men behind this so-called Exchange, and he had killed every single one of them, however, he had acted a bit too late, the explosion had caught him, and the force propelled a great deal of shrapnel into his body, damaging him to the point where his left arm had been rendered useless and he had been blinded in the right eye.

That was how his men had found him, lying there, broken and ruined in the ground, and they had taken him, brought him here, to this man who they claimed could fix him. Good, he needed to get back to fighting shape, he had work to do, power to cement. Blood dripped down his body and onto the ground, as he rested against the speeder, only standing by sheer force of will.

 

[Ix.]

The slums of Corulag... What a wretched place to die.

So much time had gone into aiding the man who would revive The Exchange. Such a costly investment, and it had almost dissolved to nothing right before his eyes. Countless loyal men had died, but to Orpha it didn't matter. It only mattered who. Their arrival on scene was nothing short of miraculous. A few minutes of hesitation and it would have already been over. The sheer odds of spotting the man so quickly... The large explosions helped.

As a general rule of thumb, living things like to make distance with dangerous billowing fireballs. With this man however - explosions were the closest thing you'd get to a greeting card.

In the end battles are a crapshoot. The planning and plotting never truly prepares you for the real thing. When an operation of this size kicks off and you're in the thick of it all you can do is shoot, stab, and spit - hoping you don't buy it in the process. Sporting a large crimson red burn across the left side of his face, Orpha came close to doing just that. One step to the left and his head would have had a large chunk missing.

Lucky, Orpha thought to himself as he hastily entered the decaying underworld office, two agents on point in front of him. The battle was over, but it never hurts to be safe.

"Mr. Corinth?!"

Following his men into the operating room, Orpha spotted the Doctor on the edge of a surgery table and planted his person firmly a few feet away. Orpha's eyes locked with Corinth's, arming a stare that could kill a rancor.

"You'll be paid four times your usual rate, and I expect quality..." taking a brief moment to absorb the "lavish" operating room "This is a real hole you've got here, but the men say you're good. Please note - if you kriff this up - that will be the last surgical mask you ever wear."

Making his demands without allowing for a response, Orpha turned sharply towards the door, motioning the men in the other room to bring in the Doctor's new patient, and then quickly turned back towards the Doctor once more. With a slight wince - and this time marginally less demanding - he made a request.

"...and if you could direct me towards something for my..." pointing to the obviously painful mark across his left cheek.

 

[Aaron Corinth]

The men burst into his "office" with one man in the lead. He had never seen the man before but assumed that he was part of the company he was often referred to work on. He attempted to threaten him and Clark met his eyes with unwavering glaze, "After what I've been through, try your worst," he spat at the man.

The man that he had dragged in behind him was the true patient, though he could tell the man he had spoken to was in pain. The other man had completely blown out his right ocular socket and nearly destroyed the eye that had once rested there. It would certainly require replacement. He shook his head as he surveyed the rest of the man's body. There was blood and holes throughout the man's body from what he could only assume was shrapnel. The next object of particular interest was the left arm. It appeared to have crushed the ulna, radius, and humerus and severed the wrist from the remaining arm. The arm was his first priority as he quickly tied a tourniquet around it to instantaneously control the bleeding. The next particular problem was the massive blood loss that would lead to shock within a few minutes if he did not get replacement fluids. He ran to his stores of blood near the sink and quickly primed the tubing and started the IV in the man's jugular vein. The large vein would allow the largest amount of fluids to enter and would give him more time to work on the rest of the body. He pushed a powerful sedative into the IV so the man would not remember what would happen next. The wounds from shrapnel nearly covering the man head to toe were the focus of his next operation. He started from the neck and chest and worked downward. He used saline lavages to clean the wounds and remove the sharp pieces of metal embedded in flesh. He worked quickly but accurately almost to the man's feet when he registered that the other man had spoken. He simply pointed to a cabinet near the door labeled "Pain Relievers" and continued to work on his friend. He also held a cauterizing laser which he used with almost every wound to instantly seal the gaping holes the shrapnel had left.

He finally finished removing shrapnel when he reached the man's leg. He pulled one final large piece out of the man's calf and cauterized the wound stopping the bleeding. He stepped back thinking what to do of the eye staring off into space as well as the arm that was clearly beyond repair. He remembered the cybernetics he had ordered and the small supply he was beginning to have. He shook his head, nobody would necessarily want that but what does this man have to lose. He ran to the room just past the operating room and grabbed a small cybernetic eye and large replacement arm he was hoping he would have never had to use. He injected the man with more sedative as he started to cut around the eye, pulling the optic nerve out, he attached it to the cybernetic eye, programming it to follow the nerve's direction and movements.

The final step was the arm. He used the scalpel to slice deeply through the muscles and tendons of the shoulder. It practically fell away as the humerus was practically destroyed. However, nearly miraculously the socket was left intact. He slid the metal replacement into the socket and injected it with nanomite fluid which lubricated and kept the joint clean as well as did the job of connecting the miniscule nerves and muscles to the cybernetic arm. He touched certain places near the socket and he saw the hand move. It was certainly a positive sign as he sutured the arm in place.

He wiped the sweat off his forehead and glanced around. It had taken nearly six hours to complete the stabilization and he was tired. He glanced down at the man no longer bleeding and told the man with the mark on his face, "Well, it is up to him now. I have done all I can. I will medicate him for pain for the next week or so or however long he survives. It is miraculous he lasted until he got to me. I wish him luck."

 

[Srota]

He had tried to remain awake for as much as he could, but nobody could honestly endure the amount of damage that his body had taken for much longer, and he had finally relented, letting himself be assisted with the climb to Corinth's room. Upon his arrival there, it had finally overcome him, and the shear force of will that had kept him awake had finally given out at long last. He had done it, he had wrested control away from those incompetents who had led things before him, and now he would usher in a new age of prosperity and growth for the group. No longer would they be content to just wait in the shadows, biding their time, they would finally begin to move, to grow and recruit, to steal and to build. All these thoughts ran through his head as he crumpled to the table, leaving himself vulnerable to this unheard-of doctor. Well, it seemed like he would be going from one risk to the other, but that was no matter, in the end, he had reached his first goal of many.

 

[Ix.]

The Doctor was every bit as arrogant as he'd been told. Perfect. Faced with armed thugs and he'd had no qualms about mouthing off. You could argue it was an attitude destined to end his life, but it's that special sort of defiance that makes the best criminals. If everything went as desired, there would definitely be a position for him within The Exchange. Regardless he was their only option at the moment, and he certainly seemed to register that much.

Thoughts of the battle passed through Orpha's head as he watched Corinth work - explosions, screaming, and more explosions - his previous request still hanging in the air. Minutes passed in what felt like seconds as Orpha observed, eventually being shaken from his day dreamy state when he noticed the Doctor pointing towards a fixture across the room. A mild surge of pain shot through the left side of his face just as he read the label on the cabinet.

Pain Relievers

"Of course..." Orpha said with a grunt and a scowl, his eyes darting from the cabinet and back to Corinth. Pain killers were not what he had in mind, though it was what he should have expected. Bacta. Orpha desired Bacta, and in a pinch, even Kolto would have sufficed. Without either substance he'd be left a large scar across his cheek. Used to a higher level of medical care, Orpha's expectancy of modern healing agents - in a run down practice on Corulag - was a rare moment of naivety. Obviously perturbed, but understanding his was a lesser situation Orpha let it lie. Though, the thought of The Compere recovering from such wounds without bacta...

Orpha walked to the cabinet and removed a medicine bottle from its shelf. "Cheap thrills" he mumbled, removing the cap and ingesting two pills. Turning away and motioning towards the men that lead him in, Orpha began to bark orders...

"Do not leave the boss unattended. Watch the Doctor and notify me as he's finishing up. I'll be in the next room."

The next six or so hours would be spent on a comlink and holocom, cleaning up house, organizing affairs, and ensuring things would be in one piece by the time the Compere awoke. News of his status were not to leave the Doctor's compound. All it would take is one young gun with a bright idea and Orpha would have a mess of internal disputes on his hands. The brain splitting task of juggling the needs of an intergalactic organization would go uninterrupted until being summoned to the operating room. Watching for a few minutes as Corinth finished up his work, eventually the man looked up and spoke. His response was not unexpected, but unsatisfactory all the same.

"Unfortunately, we don't have a week. You will look after him, that I can say for certain."

Orpha paused to look over the Compere. Cybernetics, and they seem to have been successfully installed. The man would probably consider them an improvement, Orpha thought to himself. He turned towards the door once again but stopped short of exiting, shifting his gaze back to the Doctor.

"Be ready to move."

 

[Aaron Corinth]

"Truthfully, he is far too weak to move. If we move him, the chance of death is elevated astronomically. Is there anyway your 'corporation' could find me some bacta? or kolto would work if you could get it flown in in time. It would greatly speed the healing process and increase his chances of survival," the doctor spoke somewhat disgruntled at the new request.

He re-checked his work in suturing and cauterizing the wounds to insure everything was holding as expected. The cybernetics appeared to be functioning correctly, but he needed the man to wake up to truly test them. Every creature wants to survive and in the man's case without cybernetics he would have certainly been crippled almost to debilitation which he knew a member of an organization such as this would not want nor allow. He was happy with his work as the metal gleamed in the bright lights of his surgical "suite."

"He is stable but his condition could rapidly deteriorate. I don't have the equipment I would need to transport. Unless....no you probably couldn't get a hold of it," he finished shaking his head.

It was truly the only option the man had if they needed to move in which it appeared this man wanted to do desperately. He sighed before finishing his earlier thought, "You would have to uh...borrow a city or imperial military medic speeder. I would have some equipment to work with and a flat place to do it, but I take no responsibility for him as I want to keep him here where I know he has a better chance of survival."

He silently hoped the man would not want to transport the man and could acquire the resources he was seeking. The introduction of medicine would speed the man's recovery along exponentially and he could be fully functional within a few days. He sat on one of the rolling stools in a corner awaiting what they would decide.

 

[Ix.]

Body still pointed towards the door, Orpha responded sharply to the Doctor's objections while he rechecked his work.

"Bacta we have - time we do not. Moving him isn't an option, it's a necessity."

Orpha clearly did not posses a vast understanding of medical science, but he was certain that relocation was required. The men had not made a quiet entrance. While armed thugs were not unusual in the slums, Orpha and his men weren't exactly natives. Without a doubt, someone would eventually come knocking. In fact, Orpha was surpised there hadn't already been an incedent - they'd been there nearly six hours now.

Orpha could sense a slight degree of dread in the Doctor's sighs as he responded to his demands. Steal a speeder from the planetary authorities? Imperials? Sounded like attention. Though, if the Doctor was certain it was necessary...

Oprha shifted his body away from the door and back towards Corinth before he began.

"We have additional safehouses on planet. Enough bacta for two men, all but a few hours away." Orpha's face turned to a frown as he continued "I don't like it at all, but if there is no other option, we'll get you your speeder."

Grabbing one of the agents at the door Orpha turned to him and quietly gave orders before reallocating his full attention to the Doctor.

"...anything else?"

 

[Aaron Corinth]

Clark simply shook his head as he knew his attempts to stop them would be futile. The agents left and a short while later returned with one of the speeders that he had requested. Luckily, it was a city medical speeder containing the necessary equipment he would need. He snatched up a few of the tools he figured he might could use and tossed them into the box. He grabbed his meds and his valuables and headed for the speeder. He had a feeling he wouldn't be coming back to this office.

He stashed the valuables and tools and headed back to get the man. He injected a strong painkiller to keep the man from feeling anything as the other men helped move him to the hover stretcher to join his tools in the vehicle. The man was strapped down and placed in the speeder where Clark joined him. "Alright, I guess I'm as ready as I'll ever be. Let's get there quickly, but safely without running into any planetary officials. We need that bacta," he told the other man before slamming the speeder door.

He felt the hum of the repulsorlifts as they jetted off towards one of The Exchange's hidden safehouses. He monitored the man's vitals and he was mostly stable. With the addition of Bacta, the man could be up and moving within a few days. He patted the new cybernetic arm with a sense of ownership. He had saved the man's life and at least for the time being would live to save another.

 

[Ix.]

Short of assaulting a paramedic patrol unit or stealing a speeder straight from the local hospital, Orpha and his men were hard pressed to get creative with their acquisitions. Dr. Corinth was not the only shady "professional" on Corulag and local contacts managed to line them up with a dodgy speeder repair shop. Five hundred credits to "borrow" the speeder for a few hours - another five hundred if it didn't come back in one piece. So long as they stuck to the plan and traveled in the lower traffic districts, everything would be expected to go smoothly.

Orpha watched as Clark moved the Compere to the speeder and approached the door to see him off. Orpha nodded to the Doctor as he stood in the doorway - clearly still frustrated with the prospect of moving - Clark began to bark at him, topping it off with a slam of the door. With the hatch shut and the speeder moving, Orpha chuckled quietly to himself before turning to the remaining men and signalling their departure.

Taking the scenic route, two speeders took point to keep and eye open for potential incidents - the Compere's medical speeder not far behind. Orpha's vessel ran on a parallel route, not too far away in the case of incident, but equally capable of pulling out were things to go dramatically south. While the Compere was of extreme importance, someone had to make it off planet. The Exchange would fall into chaos and infighting if both were lost. Fortunately the trip went without incident, and Corulag would not be their grave... Well, at least for now.

Theirs was a quiet arrival, and the safe house seemed safe as it ever was. Miles away, the slums here looked the same as the ones they had just left. The area was a touch more industrial but equally as out of the way. Little nooks and hidings places were easy to find in the massive city sprawls of the core worlds, existing as a byproduct of unadulterated inequity. This particular safe house was a small garage in a particularly disparate part of town - though, upon entering the lower portion of the building you would think you were standing in a private medical ward. Garage doors rising with the men inside unloading and quickly situating themselves, Orpha parked his speeder and walked over to the medical transport awaiting the emergence of it's inhabitants.

 

[Aaron Corinth]

The speeder darted towards the location in which they were heading. Clark eyed the unconscious man. He was clearly important for all the trouble they were going through. The cuts and lacerations he had sealed up had held pretty well and the cybernetic enhancements had remained anchored. He checked the man's vital signs once again insuring the man would not expire on him.

He felt the speeder begin to slow when the outburst came from the man on the stretcher. The man was screaming and trying to pull himself free of the straps restraining him to the hover stretcher. He could hear the straps beginning to creak from the strain as Clark grabbed a vial of the powerful sedative he had given him earlier and quickly drew up a sizable amount. He found the IV line once again and injected the entire syringe through the port. The motion slowed and eventually stopped as the man fell back onto the pillow.

The commotion had ripped open a few of the lacerations. He grabbed a few bandages holding them over the cuts hoping it had not opened any of the internal wounds up. He was just about to start trying to suture the wounds up when the vehicle stopped. He popped the door open once again glaring at the man who had insisted that they move. "He just about ripped open everything I worked so hard to get together. I've never seen a man fight through this particular sedative. I told you we should have stayed at the office," he said, his voice dripping with venom.

He waved for the others to grab the hover stretcher and his tools and he led the way into the garage area. It had been remanufactured to look almost like a hospital ward, complete with equipment and tools. It was a good set-up and suited their needs nicely. The bacta in the corner, however, made the trip very much worth the while. He returned to the man and cauterized and resealed the wounds. He set a drip up that would continuously keep the man unconcious and prepared the bacta for use. He poured the precious liquid over the man's body, covering the wounds. "With the bacta, he should heal within 48 hours," he reported back to the man who had brought them here.

 

[Ix.]

Forty eight hours is a long time to spend in one place when you're not to go outside or leave the premisis. Thankfully, the garage was reasonably comfortable. Refreshments plentiful enough for a week or so, and entertainment in the form of cards and Dejarrik. At any rate, Orpha had his hands full attempting to organize and manage Exchange business while stuck on Corulag. Between that and preparing for departure - planning routes, going over extraction plans with the men, and keeping mental preparedness - forty-eight hours went quickly.

Eventually, the Compeer would rise.

"Agents! We're due to move. You all know what to do. So do it."

Orpha barked to the men lounging in the garage. Speeders humming to life and the sound of hurried steps filled the room as he walked down to the medical ward. The clean silver and white interior of the basement medical level was sharply contrasted to the dingy browns of the upper garage level. The Doctor was standing inside with the Compeer - identifiable as the hulking mass laid out on the table. Orpha called out to Corinth.

"Ready yourself to leave Corulag Doctor - may she never be missed. You're coming with us for now. The men are preparing for our departure." Pausing and shifting his eyes to the Compeer "...are we ready?".

 

[Aaron Corinth]

The hours passed quickly as he titrated drips to maintain unconsciousness and checked the wounds every few hours. The wounds were healing nicely and he had titrated the drips off almost completely as the 48th hour struck. He removed the IV from the man's arm as most of his injuries had healed. He systematically checked over the man one last time insuring the cybernetics were functioning properly and the wounds covering certain parts of his body were healed into thin pink lines of scar tissue.

He had just about finished as he heard the other man enter. "Leave, where will I be going now," he asked looking at the two men in the ward type room.

He expected the second man to awaken any time as the drugs wore off. "As far as ready, I assume that will be whenever he wakes up," he said pointing to the man lying motionless in the bed.