#xrumon arigah

[cloudbattrolls]

Digging Deeper

This drabble is preceded by The Waiting Game and followed by Dead Silent.

You can see her slip, can't you? Start to reveal how paranoid she really is? It's a wonder she holds together, but I can't say I admire her for it.

--

Ullane calls a woman who works for her once in a while, one of the few people she trusts who isn’t fully troll: Zanzul Varzim, who for various reasons is a better reason to call than her signmate to the clinic proper.

The violet comes in several hours later, fortunately not too far from the clinic at the moment, walking in quietly and going to the yellowblood’s office.

The medic has asked the horrorterror hybrid here to use her marvelous ears; her bloodline’s various abilities include hearing ghosts.

The violet closes her eyes, focusing, her iridescent fins twitching slightly as her spots softly glow. When she opens her eyes, they are glowing slightly whitish violet as well.

Zanzul, notepad at the ready, asks Calcit’s ghost if he remembers how he got injured and who attacked him, what tip he was investigating, and how he acquired the information.

Unfortunately, shades of the dead are not always coherent; few hold onto their minds fully in death.

The blueblood’s remnant rambles that they took from his veins what they could not take from his purse, his pockets empty when what they sought was silver. 

Riches flow toward those who copy, he says. This crime was slight, their others greater. He was led astray by promises of truth and justice, but was delivered only emptiness and invisibility.

Ullane has Zanzul question Calcit about his silver further, but he becomes more incoherent, yet still somewhat eloquent. 

Before he fades entirely, he asks what killed him, if her tools were not the cause? 

His lyrical speaking style reminds the medic of her ex auspicitice, and she tries not to think of Widsth Orpheo; there is work to do, and Zanzul has to go.

She returns to the information Yarrex give her about her employee, Halvir Urtyop; the nurse who was the last to see Calcit before he died.

He’s worked for the clinic for several perigees and is noted to be calm and good with patients, with a polite but distant mannerism toward his coworkers, with a perfect legal record and good references.

Ullane dryly comments that she can’t decide if it’s a false lead or if Halvir is way too good at covering his tracks. Yarrex remarks that she might want to decide before the trial, and Ullane deadpans that he’s so wise.

To rule out sabotage from one angle, though she knows it unlikely, Ullane checks the medical machines Calcit was hooked up to that night just to be on the safe side; they are all perfectly in order, her part-time mechanic Priori Poster keeping them well-maintained as always. 

She discusses her next course of action with Xrumon and Yarrex privately in her office, wondering if she should have Halvir followed as she did with Jixill instead of trying to talk to him. 

Luckily, both men point out that this is a bad idea and that if word of it got out, things would become very tense in the clinic. 

Yarrex asks her if she knows any fortune tellers or tarot readers, and as Xrumon wears a pained look Ullane tells the brownblood to go in a corner and put on a dunce cap.

To her surprise, he actually pulls a dunce cap out of his sylladex and does so, leaving the mediculler a bit flummoxed. She asks him why he has that, and he states that he needs to be prepared when working for her.

Ullane had no idea he had one and looks at him as if he fell through the ceiling. Xrumon points out, reluctantly, that she did tell him to do that.

The woman briefly covers her face with her hands and tries to continue onward.

To avoid seeming as if she’s singling Halvir out, the administrator asks all the staff on duty that night if they saw or heard anything suspicious, and receives a variety of answers: Halvir himself says he was surprised at how fast Calcit deteriorated, someone else mentions graffiti on the wall outside, yet another person mentions that the back door was strangely unlocked, and last of all, an entire cellphone was reported thrown away in a trash can.

The final scrap of news catches Ullane’s immediate attention, though she makes note of the others as well.

It may be nothing.

It may be a piece of evidence she sorely needs.

--

The phone, the phone.

If it weren't for me, it would have been useless.

Though I have to give credit elsewhere, too.

[trolloled]

Xrumon receives a letter, one in a fancy envelope. 'Hello, Arigah. I recall that when we spoke, you were dreadfully bored and tired of twiddling your thumbs joblessly. That seems a shame for a mind of your caliber. I have recently regained employment at the company Starsight, and there is an open spot for technical design work, if you're interested. You may know the woman in charge now - Chimer Latrai, given she owns Crown Clinic. Here's my contacts if you're interested.' - Jamie Abnale

=> Who the hell sends physical letters anymore?

A/\/\azing. So/\/\eone re/\/\e/\/\bered I ac╪ually exis╪ed while I ro╪ away in here.

I sure fucking hope he's no╪ expec╪ing /\/\e ╪o wri╪e a response and- oh I see, here's ╪he e/\/\ail address. ╪hank fucking chris╪.

=> You carefully set the letter on a nearby table in the clinic staff room (nobody was going to keep you out of that even if you weren't employed anymore, you'd die of boredom otherwise) and leave a discarded tray on it to keep it flat.

He does realize /\/\y focus isn'╪, you know, ship design, right?

Wha╪ever. Can'╪ wai╪ ╪o see how ╪his explodes in /\/\y face.

Le╪'s see... ╪his fucking HR bas╪ard be╪╪er no╪ ask for a free design as proof... I'll shove ╪he Au╪oCAD file down ╪heir ╪hroa╪.

=> You laboriously turn to your laptop and begin composing and editing a response using speech-to-text. Even now, your fingers still refuse to cooperate half the time. Lousy atrophy and scarring.

[raitrolling]

things to do while you’re recovering in a hospital clinic you’re currently indebted to

@trolloled (w. cameos of @cloudbattrolls, @goddesstrolls, and @anontrolls’ trolls)

just the chibi doodles under the cut:

[cloudbattrolls]

Abrasion

This drabble is preceded by Dead Silent, and followed by Chasing Shadows.

Note: Abrasion is not strictly relevant to More to Lose's plot sequence; instead, it gives insight into Ullane as a character, and includes wonderful dialogue from @trolloled's Xrumon.

--

“See? Easy to prove. Bit of a fucker to actually do, though.” Xrumon says, in the wake of what they’ve just witnessed. 

He presses a second button to stop the nanite from doing any further damage.

Ullane sighs. “I almost wish I weren’t right. Thank you. Glad for your help, regardless.”

“You shouldn’t be, considering how much of a bastard that is going to be to prove as the malfunction cause. But you’re welcome, I suppose.”

She snorts. “Is reason I’m not jumping for joy. Several. That is top of list, right now.”

“But would have been much harder to prove without you.” She adds. “You deserve the thanks.” 

She nods at him with sincere respect and gratitude.

Xrumon shrugs. “Eh. Save it for whoever your lawyer is going to be. If my ass gets called to the witness stand, then you can thank me.”

She flashes him a grin. “Thanking you now, so it’s done if I die.”

“Forward thinking of you. I’ll put that on your gravestone.” The tealblood drawls.

“You’ll spit on my gravestone.” She chuckles at the thought.

“Waste of good spit.” He retorts.

“Of course, my apologies.” 

“Yeah, how dare you. You monster.”

The medic gives a hint of a very grim smile. “I know. You’ve made sure I know.”

Ullane does not begrudge him. It is a very basic truth, and they both know it.

“Someone has to be here to remind you that ethics exist.” He shrugs.

She looks amused. “Ethically, should I not die for my crimes? Why even help me? Don’t say is for the clinic. You know me. You know I’d have a successor lined up. You - “

She goes silent, expression blank.

“Apologies. I was untoward. I should go.”

Crown clinic’s administrator gets up to leave.

“No, you shouldn’t.” Xrumon says with unhelpful vagueness. “You can’t fix things by being dead. Death isn’t an apology, it’s an escape.”

He rolls his eyes. “I help you for you, idiot. It’s that simple.”

She stares directly at him, fists clenched - a major sign of anger for the normally well-controlled doctor. Her disbelief of his words is written plainly on her face, but she doesn’t want to argue; so she begins to walk away.

“Being pissed doesn’t mean I’m not right! It means I’m more right than ever!” ” He calls after her, shaking his head. That girl has issues.

Ullane stops.

“Don’t.” She says, voice hard. “I cannot be angry at you. Not fairly. Don’t.”

She keeps walking.

“Why the fuck not?” He shoots back. “What, you think doing fucked up things to me means you can’t be pissed at me? Can I get that in writing to submit to the academy of insanity?”

He sits back, hands on top of his cane. “God knows what part of all that made you so pissed. It takes me not trying to do it?”

Ullane turns almost unsettlingly fast, her eyes lit up pinkish red from her psiionics, stepping back closer to him. Her steps are slow and heavy on the floor, barely restrained.

“I cannot. I did the unforgivable. I lost my right. No matter what I must take the consequences. No matter what. 

No matter if you - if you begged to die - hated me before I did anything - then for all the good reasons, every good reason, and then, and then, I’m to believe you care? Or that I may not die?

All so I can - keep causing suffering? Bring down death on the clinic, like I’ve just done?”

She laughs hysterically. “I’m to think suddenly, I somehow earned anything but hate? No. What sense does it make? Is just…nothing.”

Ullane blinks, her eyes returning to normal.

“Is nothing. I shouldn’t have said anything.” The yellowblood shakes her head.

Xrumon blinks, more surprised than startled. “This might be news to you, blockhead, but people are complex creatures capable of nuanced feelings about their checkered past doctors. I’m a bit more complicated than permanently holding a grudge over what you did, given everything else.”

“Death happens here. It’s normal.” He continues. “Even if it happened under your watch, with your technology, that doesn’t matter. Being sad about it is just a waste of time; we do better next time, that’s all there is to it.”

He grimaces then, scarred face pulling uncomfortably. “We’ve got fucked up history, doctor. But we’re still friends. So quit hating yourself more than even I did - or do - because no one likes a martyr.”

Ullane stares. In theory, this makes sense. In theory, it’s all logical.

But when has she ever deserved his friendship? What she could have possibly done to deserve a change of mind?

“Less sad, more frustrated.” She mutters. “Wish they’d just come after me. Suppose they know I’d have been fine with that.”

She considers his words on their history, face unreadable. “Maybe not. But nothing I do’s enough either, I know it. If you do hate me, why bother? Not good for you either, being martyr that way.” 

The medic shakes her head. “You have other friends. Better ones.”

“Oh for fuck’s - do I have to spell it out, do you need me to be emotionally sincere? I don’t actually hate you, all right?” He says, with all the grace of a rhino having a tooth pulled. 

“It’s not a damned competition, you nutcase. So take the fucking compliment when I say, even with all your screwups, even you can claw yourself back to the point of making up for a few things.”

He huffs, stamping his cane on the floor. “I clung to life by my fingertips so I could make up for my mistakes. If you insist that you can’t, then I might as well have bled out on that operating table.”

Ullane blinks. She is thrown, having assumed all this time that yes, of course Xrumon hates her. He might feel platonic pity or frustration at times - along with resignation - that spur him to keep dealing with her, to suffer her in the hope of making her better.

What else could it have been?

She shakes her head, confused. “I’m far worse than you. Need to try, yes, but can never fully do so.”

“Stop it.” He snaps abruptly. “You can. You’ll just have to put in more hours than most people. I don’t care whether it makes sense. Just live with it. Like I have to.”

He lightly taps the side of her leg with his cane from where he sits.

Ullane’s ears flick when he taps her, but she otherwise doesn’t move. When she speaks, it is brief but sincere. 

“Thank you.” 

“Whatever, now my throat hurts.” He grouses as he levers himself back onto his feet. “So come get something to drink with me now that I can actually taste mild sugar.”

She chuckles. “Good idea. What’re you getting?”

“Extremely lightly sweetened iced tea.” He grumbles as he stamps out the door. “Seeing as my heart thinks most stimulants are trying to kill it.”

The medic nods. “Think I’ll get the same. Not in the mood for excess sugar.”

“That explains why you talk to me.” Remarks Xrumon dryly.

“Saw that joke coming, but won’t say it isn’t fair.”

“I’m very fair. They put that gene into me in the vat of salt I was grown in.”

The yellowblood snorts heavily. “You’re extremely vindictive. Though often for decent reason. Believe the vat of salt entirely, but fairness isn’t a gene.”

They chatter for a little while, doctor and patient getting drinks together, a strange pair of friends in every way.

[cloudbattrolls]

Dead Silent

This drabble is preceded by Digging Deeper and directly followed by Abrasion.

Death can come in such strange ways. I am not one to dwell on it, but I will admit; the method here surprised even me.

--

Naturally, Ullane asks Yarrex to help investigate these leads. He checks on the graffiti, which seems to be nothing out of the ordinary - the word ‘Q-Bag’ is included, to Ullane’s dryly amused snort. She can guess where that one came from. 

He finds out that the last person to use the unlocked door was one Giorni Valtop - one of the medical staff - on his smoke break, but that the clinic’s camera footage shows no signs of a trespasser coming through it. 

Ullane muses that perhaps they could figure out if someone using cloaking tech or the like came through it, to which Yarrex responds he’s not psychic, though that would be pretty cool. He remarks that they’re not sure who threw the phone away, but he could have chrono-reactive lenses installed last night to zoom in on the trash can and find out (Ulalne rolls her eyes at that).

He hands the phone to her, having already gone dumpster diving for it in preparation, and remarks that it’s an old-style one, the kind you flip open, imagine. Also, the memory and battery cards have been removed.

Ullane mentions that such a person could still be tracked by visible breath or movement in the air, or yes, with a psychic; it’s too bad Zanzul is away now. Yarrex responds that he’s aware, but their cameras’ resolution isn’t top of the line and they’re in static positions. 

She also comments that the phone’s state isn’t strange at all; clearly it was used to communicate something the caller didn’t want any record of, and it means Halvir may not be the murderer at all, it could be someone else entirely. 

Yarrex points out that it would’ve made more sense to throw the phone away outside the clinic, and Ullane agrees. If they didn’t do that, perhaps they couldn’t, they had to get rid of it immediately for some reason…

…or, she says, struck by a sudden thought, it wasn’t a burner phone at all. It was used in some other incriminating way.

Yarrex shrugs and says he hasn’t the foggiest what it was used for if not making villainous calls.

Ullane rolls her eyes and says that their…opposition…is not ‘villainous’. At least, no more than she used to be. She isn’t an expert on technology, but she could ask Xrumon.

The brownblood warns her that if she stays too vague she’s liable to put on a tinfoil hat. He has some made, just in case. 

She retorts that she looks stupid when she wears any hat, and that she’s intentionally being careful.

Her head of security thoughtfully remarks that the walls have sponge clots…and they ooze green slime, but only on Tuesdays.

Ullane pushes him a little. Stop it with the Spongebob, she says, she hears it enough from Thrixe.

Yarrex collapses in agony, wailing for workman’s comp.

She prods him with a toe. Save it for the theater, Fissaa. Get up.

He takes out a copy of the movie “Up” from his sylladex and hands it to her. She baps him in the face with it and then puts it away in her own, silently wondering how he keeps pulling out oddly fitting objects to match what she says.

Once Ullane goes to Xrumon, he looks at the phone and says it’s a phone. Has she considered giving him a battery to turn it back on with or should he power it with one made out of spite?

Ullane placidly replies that it seems like something he could do, but she leaves and returns with a slightly odd looking battery for him to use.

Xrumon boots up the phone and notes that someone wiped the internal memory on top of tossing the external card, asking her what she thinks it was used for. 

Ullane tells him that she thinks it was used to hack the nanotech, which she knows sounds ridiculous, but she isn’t ruling anything out.

He replies that that’s easy to prove; just bring him a nanobot and a piece of bread.

Ullane frowns, finding it hard to believe it’s that simple, then retrieves the needed things quickly. She explains that usually, Friday simply controls the nanotech with her psi, since they’re technically part of her; made from her own cells’ extremely effective DNA repair that she has so her body can cope with her radioactivity manipulation ability.

But when other clinic staff use them, of course they have manual commands via a remote, or a pre-made code, like a normal robot. It’s dangerous to alter their instructions too much once they’re inside a body, though, she adds.

She hadn’t even thought they could be hacked, she muses. Or maybe the batch itself was interfered with during creation, but that seems less likely.

Xrumon, asks if there’s a specific radio frequency the nanites listen to, and Ullane confirms there is; that’s Friday’s power, after all. Electromagnetic manipulation.

The tealblood goes into the phone’s ringtone and connects it to his laptop, nothing that funnily enough their past work on Reality’s Song is helpful here. 

At first, his work produces only a tuneless noise that becomes inaudible when he puts it on the correct frequency. Then he holds it up to the piece of bread and presses play.

There is no sound.

Yet as both trolls watch, the piece of bread tears itself to pieces, spurred on by the noiseless song.

--

Such trouble gone to, simply to kill one man. Trolls die of less and for less all the time.

But one death, well placed and timed, can change everything.

[cloudbattrolls]

The Waiting Game

This drabble is preceded by Picking Up The Pieces, and followed by Digging Deeper.

Stalking doesn’t look good on anyone. But I suppose she didn’t have a lot of other choices.

–

Some time ago, Ullane developed small biotech constructs; often shaped like bugs, they are partially alive and can sustain themselves by consuming organic sources of fuel, but are equipped with small cameras and recording equipment. 

It is these she sends after the maroon, to silently observe him and relay the data back to her own computer for later viewing.

What she observes is fairly depressing, if not unexpected: Jixill lives poorly even for a rustblood, gambling frequently at various different locations, working out deals with trolls at them not break important bones of his.

With several of these trolls the discussions are predictably brief and angry. Then he meets with an anonymous caste, who speaks to him tersely, but politely. 

With a sinking feeling, the medic knows what this might mean.

Xrumon is with her as she watches this, commenting that investigations are rarely easy, and not just because god hates her sins.

Ullane throws a crumpled ball of paper at him and keeps watching her screen. Xrumon comments that having things thrown at him is just like being back on the force. 

She directs her bugs to follow the hemoanon instead; he enters a bar’s moderately nice backroom, with several games set up inside. Some people notice the bugs and fly paper is hung up; she intentionally loses a construct to said paper to keep up the ruse.

After some time, another hemoanon comes by, one completely covered in a scarf, thick coat, and bowler hat. This one checks in about Jixill’s debts now that he owes again, saying it’s fine to let them run up a bit more, and takes a paper envelope with them before leaving.

Crown clinic’s administrator shifts targets once more, directing her bugs to follow this troll as they depart.

The hemoanon continues to collect more envelopes from other anonymous trolls at similar locations, or by passing them by in the street.

Eventually they stop and sit on a park bench to read a newspaper, and a yellowblood sits next to them, browsing his phone. The hemoanon leaves after a few minutes, their pile of envelopes now by the yellowblood, who takes them with him as he too gets up and walks away.

The yellowblood, meandering, makes his way to a bank. Greigh and Poorzy Ltd., reads its sign, and it has only a sparse few trolls inside.

The man makes his deposit and leaves.

For all the world an innocuous bank transaction, in an extremely secure building that has screens in its vents to prevent bugs from getting further inside.

But Ullane, sighing, withdraws her constructs and tells them to come back.

She knows now; Jixill was paid off by the Grey Mob, an enemy of her former employer, QPIN. 

The medic can’t even feel wronged, given that while she rarely clashed with the mob directly, it was her - she and a few of her employees - who developed new weapons for the gangsters, right in crown clinic itself. 

It wasn’t work she ever enjoyed. But she did it regardless; she couldn’t refuse, and it allowed her to do the work she truly loved. 

Under her eye they made terrible things that melted skin and bone, custom-made diseases with no cure. Fungal daymares. 

All for QPIN to gain profit and territory.

It is no wonder one of their enemies has finally struck back.

–

You see? Miss medic Wistim knew she was hardly a victim here. 

She'll become less of a victim still.

[cloudbattrolls]

Fear No More

This drabble is preceded by Grey Tidings.

Ullane’s gambit to survive was not needed after all. But now she faces a far greater threat than some slavering dogs.

Indrid shakes her head, pitying Halvir a bit, her feelings clear on her face.

"A shame." She says, and she means it.

Ullane is expressionless. If anything, she is only looking to where Xrumon disappeared again. Friday looks shocked, and worried, because she knows what this means.

Ullane pats her shoulder.

Indrid looks to Artair.

"Does the prosecution have any further questions or comments?" She asks politely.

"Aye," he replies, nodding. "The prosecution notes that while it appears we may have a confession... of sorts..." he glares at Halvir again. "As to th' exact cause of the crime, which would reduce th' penalty for medical malpractice..."

He turns, unfolding his arms and resting both of them on his desk, leaning forward. "The fact remains that the defense still bears responsibility for th' death of a blueblood. It is your job to keep your facilities safe and secure from incidents like these."

"Accordingly, we request, your Honorable Tyranny, your judgment on the charge of extreme negligence and lack of care. The penalty for this is not as severe, of course," he continues, glancing at Ullane. 

"But there must be some consequence for what has happened."

Indrid nods in agreement. "The defense understands and accepts these reduced penalties, if you would like to sentence now. Thank you, your honor."

Ullane nods as well. Friday just looks sad.

The judge nods, looking solemn in spite of his fearsome appearance. "Very well. Bailiff, escort mister Urtyop into custody pending further interrogation in this incident," he begins.

The yellowblood is led away, disappearing behind a side door near to the broken window, as another troll works to sweep up the glass on the floor.

"Now then," he leans forward, looking down on the defense. "On the charge of medical malpractice leading to the death of a noble, upon hearing the arguments and evidence put forth in this most extraordinary trial, this court finds the defense: Not guilty."

"On the charge of extreme negligence and lack of care, resulting in inadvertent harm due to outside malignance, this court finds the defense: Guilty."

"Your sentence will be handed down immediately," he bares his fangs for a moment, before settling back into his seat. 

"Your medical license will be stripped from you, and you will be prohibited from the profession for a period no less than five sweeps. 

Accordingly, you are no longer fit to hold your current position, but your clinic is free to employ a different administrator of its choosing. This court also orders the remaining staff at the clinic to close this breach in security in this nanotech before any more of it may be used in further patients."

He bangs his gavel on the stand, sounding as loud as a gunshot. "Court is adjourned. Defense has one week to vacate their position."

Indrid nods in understanding. Ullane does as well. Friday sighs deeply.

As the three women exit the room, Friday looks miserable again.

"I'm not...I'm not ready, Ullane."

"Not completely." She agrees. "But you've been trained. You'll have much support. I trust you, Friday." She says simply.

The other yellowblood sighs.

"Do you think Xrumon's all right?"

"He will be." says Ullane, in a voice that clearly states what will happen if the tealblood is not all right, as she goes to look for him. Friday follows, and Indrid leaves the pair of them.

The medic lightens, just barely, giving one of her slight smiles.

"Take heart, new administrator." She says gently, slightly teasing. "The beginning is always the hardest." She says. "You'll do better than me, I think."

Friday looks startled by that.

Ullane keeps smiling.

Just inside of the courtroom lobby, Xrumon is calmly waiting on a bench. He doesn't look any worse for wear, simply annoyed. 

"About god damn time you finished up in there," he complains, rolling his eyes. "How long does it take to figure out you're only mostly an ass?"

Ullane's smile only widens on seeing him. "A long time." She says solemnly, in what would seem a serious manner if her smile weren't so obvious. 

Her expression becomes sharper, more intent as she looks at her now-former employee and patient.

"You two go back to the clinic. I have to leave now."

Chimer Latrai shows up right on cue with her blueblood guard trailing her, sighing.

"Girl, I swear, you are the third biggest headache I've ever had. Let's get going before the mob shoots another bullet through the damn wall." She snorts.

"Better the window than anyone's head," Xrumon remarks, still shaking his head. "Still the same as they ever were."

He stands up, struggling only somewhat, and frowns at Ullane. "You 'have' to leave, huh? They take your license? That's the lesser penalty for medical negligence. What a pain in the ass."

Chimer nods. "Yeah, you should see the other guy, and by other guy I mean Halsy. I do not wanna be him right now."

Ullane looks grave. "Not about that. Need to leave the city before the grey mob figures out what I did."

Chimer, sighing. "I'll put it in one word: fucked. I'd want to slap her shit if I were them." Shakes her head.

"You've probably got one week. Maybe two," Xrumon remarks. "Got rid of a lot of your lead time when those arrests got brought up, because it's not gonna be hard to figure out how the police suddenly decided to be competent."

Chimer, nodding. "Yeah, they recruited the world's most fucking deranged mediculler with a whole ribcage to pick, wouldn't you know it, real darned coincidence that was."

He rubs his forehead with one hand. "At least they're not too big. You'll be safe... ish. As long as you get out of town for a long while. Just try not to piss off any more heavily armed gangs of pissed off hemorebels."

Friday giggles nervously. "Ullane, what did you..."

Ullane, quietly. "No time for that. It won't reflect back on you. The clinic's safe from the mob now."

Friday doesn't look very reassured by that, but she nods.

Ullane nods as well in response to Xrumon's words. 

"Chimer has a place for me." She assures him.

She sticks a hand out to shake his.

"Goodbye for now, Xrumon."

His hand, scarred and calloused as it is, grasped hers. "Goodbye, Ullane," he replies, giving her as firm a shake as he can get. "And good luck out there."

She smiles, just barely, as she lets go and walks away with Chimer.

"The same to you."

Friday watches Ullane go until she's gone, looking a little lost. Then she shakes her head and looks at Xrumon.

"I'm the clinic administrator now." She says with a sigh. The once-cheery surgeonhiliator is more subdued now, slim shoulders weighed down by her new responsibilities.

Ever since Ullane told her that Friday would take her place after she was sentenced, right after Calcit's death, she has known this would happen. Ullane has been training her.

It hasn’t made it any easier. 

"Let's go back, Xrumon. There's so much to do."

"What a shit way to get a promotion," he answers blandly, but shrugs. "Lead the way, new boss."

She snorts. "It's definitely not how I wanted it...but...at least I have you, and Yarrex, and Chimer...and the others."

Friday does lead the way, back to crown clinic.

Ullane's lusus is already gone from the place, picked up by Chimer before the trial. Her office has been cleared out. There is almost no trace the yellowblood was ever here.

Except one thing, put up in the employee break room. A typed note.

"To my former employees -

I have kept quiet about my investigations, and spoken little of my trial. This has been to protect you all from my enemies, who shouldn't trouble this place any longer.

I have left the city for a while. I don't know how long. But I am safe, though I cannot message or call anyone just yet.

Treat Friday with the same respect you treated me. Help her as best you can while the clinic transitions.

Above all, thank you all for the work you've done. It means everything to me, and more importantly, the patients you've cared for.

- Ullane Wistim"

Take heart. She’ll return some night. 

Ullane Wistim always has a plan.

THE END OF 

MORE TO LOSE 

[cloudbattrolls]

Cutting Commentary

This drabble is preceded by A Rough Start and followed by Setting the Snare.

Indrid can be a bit meandering, but in fairness, she was in a tricky position: knowing what almost certainly happened, but unable to prove it.

Indrid remains calm after Artair’s presentation. “It is actually miss Lovely’s psiionics that primarily create the nanites, though miss Wistim will assist for custom jobs.

Traditional surgery was not attempted for several reasons: the urgency of the patient’s injuries, lack of knowledge about what anesthetics he might be allergic to, and the desire to minimize his pain as much as possible.

It is terrible when a patient does pay with their life, especially in this fashion.” She admits bluntly.

“It should not have happened. Which is why it wouldn’t have, were it not for a suspected hacking attempt.

Clearly, if Mr. Urtyop saw nothing out of the ordinary, the person using a phone discovered in a trash can, confirmed to be able to hack the nanites by testimony of Xrumon Arigah and Ullane Wistim, must have done it intentionally.

This was no accident, nor was it because of any negligence on my clients’ part. It was intentional sabotage, whether it was witnessed or not.”

Indrid displays said phone, and with it a contained example of nanites to use it on, if evidence of it in action is demanded.

Artair snorts. "Ah yes, the convenient phone found by the defense, which the defense itself testifies to do something that would conveniently exonerate them?"

The prosecutor smirks as he spins on his heel and cleaves through the air with his ludicrous weapon in one easy movement. "Ye grasp at naught but straws, lass!"

The judge purses his lips. "Who is this Xrumon, then?"

"One of the doctors at the clinic, your honorable tyranny," Artair explains, sticking the point of his sword gently into the floor. "Or at least he was. Now he's a patient there - under the care of the defense."

Halvir looks to the phone from the witness stand, blinking in surprise.

"Therefore," Artair continues. “The prosecution objects to both of so-called expert testimonies verifying the capability of this item. One is the accused, the other has a prior relationship with the accused and is not accepted as an expert in coding."

Indrid raises her eyebrows. “We can provide a demonstration if you’d like one. Who would an acceptable expert in coding be?”

"The morgue's Corpse Cutter will suffice." Artair replies, unfazed. "She has considerable experience with it, despite her current occupation, and has no relation to the defense."

"However." he pauses, holding up a hand. "Regardless of any of that - that phone was not located by the legislacerator's office. Not only that, it will take considerable time to locate her and retrieve her in time for the rest of tonight's trial." He looks to the judge. 

"The prosecution objects on the grounds that the defense has not proven the phone was even at the crime scene. Since our investigator didn't recover it..."

The feeling of Hovend shrinking lower in his special chair off to the side is palpable.

"...We have no guarantee it is not a complete fabrication dreamt up by the defense."

The judge drags a claw down his scarred and cracked visage, then turns to look at Indrid. "The objection is reasonable. Can you prove that the item in question was used at the scene? Or even present?"

Indrid would points at the relevant security footage, which shows the phone evident in the trashcan after a certain point that night. Clearly someone in the clinic threw it away, and it had to be someone who entered that staff room. Perhaps Halvir even passed them himself.

Halvir shrugs. He wasn't exactly on the hunt for people with cell phones.

Artair squints at the footage for a while. "That could easily be any bally phone," he scoffs, before shaking his head. "But fine, the prosecution will throw ye a shred of mercy and hold to its promise. Jegder!"

The nervous legislacerator bolts out of his seat into a faltering salute at the call of his name. "S-sir?"

"Go'an an' fetch the Corpse Cutter. Lass is prob'ly at 'er hive this time of night."

The judge bangs his gavel loudly upon the banister in front of himself, calling for a trial recess until the expert witness can be located and transported to the court.

After an hour or so, trial resumes session as a greenblood in a scarf is seated in the witness stand. Upon being sworn in under pain of excruciating torture as usual, Artair turns her over to Indrid. 

"Miss Tynshu studied under a m'st prestigious program in a variety of coding languages, all verified before 'er employment. Says she did it fer the fun of it."

The greenblood nods. "Oh, yes. It's really quite fascinating just how much damage you can do with a few lines of code. That, or just make some simple games. Either or," she laughs softly. 

Artair ignores her.

"Now, miss Tynshu, have you ever met the defense before?"

She shakes her head. "Never. I'd never even heard of the clinic in question before tonight. Well, sort of, I did see a few of their prosthetics come in before, but I only recognize the logo on them now."

"Great, no further questions, yer witness," Artair shrugs, turning back to his seat.

Indrid nods in acknowledgement and appreciation. "Will you please verify the hacking functionality and effects of the phone in question, miss Tynshu? We have a contained nanite sample and instructions from Mr. Arigah about how it turns the nanites into tools of destruction."

Avanti blinks, a bit surprised looking, but recovers swiftly. "That doesn't sound too hard. A bit of a security vulnerability, but..." She shrugs. 

The court bailiff retrieves the instructions and items from the defense, placing them on a table where everyone can see the experiment.

Artair watches the events with mild curiosity, while Avanti takes the phone and flips it open. A piece of bread is produced and dropped into a container with the nanite before being sealed. She glances at the instructions, then begins typing into the phone. After a few seconds... Nothing happens.

"Hm? Oh, maybe..." she mutters, getting up from the stand and walking towards the nanite. 

When she draws closer, there's a small gasp from the crowd as the piece of bread is suddenly ripped to shreds over the course of a few seconds. Avanti quickly types another few commands into the phone and hastily sets it down.

"That really is dangerous, huh?" Avanti nervously chuckles, smoothing out her shirt as she resumes her seat.

Friday looks miserable, as she never wanted her tech to be used this way. She knows not to speak again, but her ears have been lowered this whole time and now she covers her face with her hands. 

Ullane pats her shoulder quietly.

Indrid nods, looking grave. "Yes. It's why I can say for certain this could have never happened due to carelessness. The clinic doesn't even have such commands for the nanites. That is why it was sabotage, pure and simple; sabotage we didn't know was possible, because as stated earlier, the nanites are partially made from miss Lovely's psiionics; her cells, even.

It was thought that the biological element would prevent such a thing. Now we know that is untrue, and miss Lovely has been working on safeguards against it ever since."

Friday takes her hands away and nods slowly.

Artair nods, perhaps in a way that could be confused for understanding. "That's all well n' good, but it still leaves you holding the ball, lass. Ye still put in the blasted thing, and moreover, ye ain't even proved that is what happened."

He raised one finger up on his right hand. "Far as the prosecution is concerned, to say nothin' of the law, it makes no difference. So a phone could potentially be used ta' make your machines go nuts. Ye haven't proved this phone did it, just that any phone could do it. Aye, miss Tynshu?"

"That's right," she nods. "Really, any telecommunication device could do it. A phone is just the easiest way."

Artair nods again. "Plus, if you're arguin' that sabotage was done, well... who did it, then? That's a serious charge you're levyin', an' without a proper suspect, it just sounds like you're flailin' about for a life preserver in a flood."

She acknowledges the statement with a nod. “It is true that it technically could have been any device. However, it is quite likely it was this one, discovered not far from the scene of the death. My client has reason to suspect that the Grey Mob was involved.”

“DNA evidence submitted that was found and analyzed by Miss Wistim from Mr. Interg’s hive led her to assist Mr. Jegder with subduing and arresting one of their agents. The Mob was at odds with her and her previous employer, QPIN Industries.” Indrid states.

"How utterly convenient," Artair drolls, lazily flicking his sword about from behind the prosecution's desk. "The defense collected DNA from the victim's home, analyzed it themselves, and found it to belong to a criminal!"

"Mister Jegder - is this claptrap at all true?"

Hovend startles slightly in his seat, arms nervously raised as if about to have something thrown at him. "Er- I- Yes? We did, uhm. We did arrest a Grey Mob member thanks to a tip..."

Artair snorts. "And yet, despite your claim that the Mob may have had animosity with your client, you have no proof of either that or any proof of the mob's connection with this incident. The prosection again objects that this is irrelevant to the charges."

"Regardless of there allegedly being DNA evidence of a member at the victim's hive, that would be pointless to acknowledge. Criminals can be found anywhere."

Indrid did not respond to Artair’s comments, focusing once more on Halvir.

“Mr. Urtyop, with this new information confirmed by Miss Tynshu, I need you to review what happened that night as closely as possible. No detail is too small to mention; anything might be significant. Who else was with you on the response team nearby? I am assuming this phone had a relatively short range; the saboteur was likely nearby, to use it at all and to ensure their plan succeeded.

It was far more likely to be one of the medical staff than any other kind of worker; they would be the ones who had the knowledge of the relevant radio frequency to hack the nanotech.

How many of them were with you when the client initially showed up, if you recall? What were they doing during and after he was set up for treatment?”

Halvir blinks, looking at the prosecutor. Artair shrugs. "It seems the defense is truly getting desperate. We're re-cross examining the witness?"

He waves a hand. "Go ahead. The prosecution will not object."

Halvir looks back at Indrid, furrowing his brow. "You mean the crash team? Or the other nurses on duty that night? I don't remember everyone's names, but..." he has to scratch his head for a moment in concentration. He then rattles off a few of the names from the crash team that night, along with some of the other nurses that remembers seeing in passing while working.

"When the blueblood arrived initially, there was a whole lot of us around him. He was really messed up. I think at least four or five of us were working on dressing his injuries and intubating him, while miss Wistim was getting the nanomachines ready. 

I was hooking him up to a morphine drip to reduce his body's pain response. The others were checking his pupils to determine if he had brain damage, checking his pulse to see if he was suffering blood loss..."

He shrugs again. "After he was stable and had been given his dose of machinery, everyone moved off to their own wards. Of course, we cover each others' wards on breaks as well, so sometimes someone would cover the one he was in while I was on break."

Indrid nods, noting the names down. "Thank you."

"So all of you had an opportunity to be alone with the patient, while the other was on break?" She asks.

"That does create a difficult conundrum, as there was no one unauthorized found on clinic security footage during the incident."

She shakes her head. "The suspect list is broad. Anyone could have taken a break and thrown the phone away. Perhaps it would be best to eliminate trolls who could have done it; ones who wouldn't have known how to administer the nanites once they had been given to the team."

Halvir frowns. "Well, only a few of us know how to administer the nanites, if that's what you're asking. But we all saw who did it, it's not like it was a secret." he explains, listing off the name of the nurse who had successfully administered the machines to the highblood.

Indrid, wearing the barest hint of a smile. "I'm not worried about who administered it directly. It's unlikely, given the hacking method, that the nanites were tampered with before then, and given the time of Mr. Interg's death about half an hour past the injection.

Which is what makes this difficult; the window of time after they were administered but before his death is when it must have happened, as well as the fact that they were likely alone to do it, given that clearly everyone on the team might have had an opportunity for such an act when they were alone with Mr. Interg."

Halvir blinks. "I guess so...?"

Artair coughs. "'Twould be prudent of the defense t' get to the point or ask another question of the witness."

A lean figure stands in the assembled gallery, stumping towards the witness stand. 

"This is a farce," the man snarls, coughing slightly as he shoulders his way through the crowd, eyes turning upon him. "We know who did it, quit dancing around the fucking subject-"

"Order! Order!" the judge bellows, banging his gavel on the bannister. "What is the meaning of this? Who are you?"

"Expert witness, patient at the time of death, ex-legislacerator due to medical discharge," he answers, pausing in front of the judge as the prosecutor and witnesses look to him. He keeps his eyes steadfastly on the judge. 

"Xrumon Arigah. And that ass," Xrumon continues, pointing a finger towards Halvir. "Is nothing more than a thug for the Grey Mob - Targeting hospitals now? The Mob I used to know at least had standards!"

There's a collective gasp from the crowd, while Artair glares daggers at Xrumon and Halvir's eyes widen. "That will be stricken from the record! You have no evidence for that accusation!"

"Like hell I don't! He was the man on duty, he tossed that phone, and all of this nonsense is because the Mob is too cowardly to deal with their problems on their own! Did you know that the victim was looking into their work in his off-hours?"

"That isn't relevant to the-"

"ORDER, ORDER-"

Xrumon's voice grew louder as he stamped his cane on the ground. "The Mob TARGETS hospitals! They send thugs like him after their targets and put everyone else at risk! We have him on video, he checked the patient and not thirty minutes later he starts getting eaten alive! She might be the person with the worst ethics on the planet, but she doesn't go around chopping her patients apart!"

"Remove that man at once! Bailiff!" the judge yells, another teal surging forward to grab Xrumon around the arm to drag him from the room. Despite this, the man continued to yell.

"IF THE MOB DENIES IT, THEN WHY NOT SAY IT? THEY CAN'T-" The door slams shut behind the two.

The crowd is left muttering in a fervor, many people audibly wondering about whether the mob is truly involved. Suspicious eyes are cast towards Halvir, who looks thoroughly shocked as he wipes a bit of sweat from his brow.

Indrid merely raises her eyebrows as all this happens. Ullane for the first time is wide-eyed and terrified, her hands gripping her legs with such force she nearly bruise herself. Her eyes follow Xrumon being taken away without faltering, gaze fixed on the spot she last saw him.

Indrid doesn’t waste time; moments after the teal is carried off, she clears her throat and speaks again.

“To examine this accusation properly, let us hear from all the other medical staff on duty tonight. We know what time the phone was thrown away; if we hear testimony from everyone about when their breaks were taken and who was alone with the patient at what time, it should be a simple matter to deduce who the true culprit is. As to whether they are Grey Mob…”

She pauses meaningfully.

“...remains to be seen.”

Xrumon is a fascinating troll. It is why I have chosen to help him. 

Even if I feel his attentions are sometimes misplaced.

[cloudbattrolls]

Last Call

This drabble is preceded by The Art of Knowing and followed by A Rough Start.

So ends the great search for evidence. Could we have done better? Perhaps. But it never would have been easy.

Priori passes by Halvir a few times, carefully spaced out during the night to avoid drawing suspicion. She learns a few tidbits.

Halvir? That's not a real name. Well, to him anyway. He's never had one good wriggling day party. Every single one has gone spectacularly wrong. He'd never met Calcit personally, but he knew of him. Deal with the blueblood, get a promotion. Easy work.

Priori repeats all of it later to Ullane and Hovend, including the wriggling day party fact, because she knows it’ll annoy Ullane.

Well the first one isn't surprising if he's part of the mob, Hovend says, the second one isn't... relevant, but neat. The third one is potentially incriminating, were there any way at all to verify its truthfulness,

Priori pleasantly suggests that they search his hive. It’s hard to tell how serious she’s being.

Ullane dryly states that they're trying to not make even further enemies with the Grey Mob, and there’s no guarantee that would work. It would also look very bad if they were found out.

Hovend agrees he would like to not further antagonize them without solid evidence. They can tolerate losing a person once in a while, but if a detective gets too competent... (nervously puts a hand to his throat) Plus, you know, hard to justify a full search based on one witness.

Ullane shakes her head and asks how Priori would get in anyway - never mind, don’t want to know. And yes, don’t want to endanger Hovend. Yuruli was bad enough.

Through a window? People are always leaving those unlocked.

Ullane mentions that she supposes she could use her bugs again.

You could, says Priori, amused.

Ullane replies it would potentially take a while, unless they had some way to bait him into running for his superiors.

Unlikely, unless he thinks his cover is blown, Hovend remarks. Then you'll never see him again

The medic, grimly amused, says she thought so.

Priori asks if she’s giving up, is she going to let the dogs rip her apart?

Ullane retorts that she’s sure she’d love that. Maybe it’ll happen.

Hovend hopes not! He's seen it before, it's really awful to see.

Ullane taps her fingers as she thinks. Not enough to justify a search. Mm. She wonders. Tried to keep Friday out of it, but what if she and I both subjected to a psychic examination?

Priori raises an eyebrow. You really would - oh, you really would. You don’t even care what happens.

The clinic administrator is as stone-faced as they come.

What, to try and prove your innocence? Not with memory removal psionics running around, Hovend says. They took care of that loophole a few sweeps ago

Clever, says Priori, amused.

Ullane puts a hand to her face. Halvir. Or whatever he’s really called. Why is he even still here, if his job’s done. Why linger.

Hovend shrugs. It'd be suspicious if he suddenly left?

Ullane rolls her eyes. Yes, but he could simply get away and go underground. Unless it’s to spy further.

Impossible to know, but ultimately definitely unnerving that he's deciding to hang around, Hovend agrees.

Either the Grey Mob has future plans, or he’s here to pick up information, she says quietly. Or both. 

The doctor decides, again, to talk to Xrumon about it.

She taps her chin, thinking. What might force him to make a move, she wonders. He can’t feel he’s compromised, he’ll just flee. He can’t be detained for too long before realizing he’s been found out. If only they had a way to simply…get him to stay in one place long enough that Priori’s powers might get more information. That would at least be a start.

Well yeah, the tealblood says, that's why handcuffs were invented.

Ullane snorts. Well, yes, but it’s going to look very bad if she hauls one of her own employees in for questioning without proper grounds besides Priori’s word.

Priori, who came with her, smiles at that.

Ethical boundaries, huh, Xrumon notes. Just give him some godawful tedious work to do then, like updating medical records.

Ullane dryly states that she’s already done enough because of this. Despite what Halvir’s done, she has no desire to do more than what’s necessary.

Then she chuckles. That might actually work. She can arrange for Priori to be inspecting something nearby.

Of course it'll work, he's seen how long updating that shit takes. Actually brain damaging in length.

Yet his still works fine, she notes, despite having done it for his prosthetics patients.

He just let the AWC in his head take over for that, he replies.

Ullane, amused, says she sees. Well, let’s try it.

"Such great ambitions... How far he's had to climb. How far he has to fall."

"When they beat him, they only made him more determined. He could taste the blood in his mouth as they broke his teeth, felt the iron wash over him."

"He knows they've been caught. Feels the noose drawing in. He doesn't dare flee the trap, knowing the hunter could be watching him next."

"The man had to die, he was getting too close. He could see him stirring awake as he checked the machinery. His pulse quickened, then settled. The blueblood fell back against his sheets."

"He sees the owner of the clinic, and he feels sad. To bring down someone helping lowbloods... But that was the price that would be paid."

Priori, as she relates it to the others, comments how thoughtful of him the last one is.

Ullane has her head in hands. None of this is useful, she says.

Isn't it? The olive asks. What about the records of the equipment used when Calcit was being treated?

Ullane, frustrated, though not so much at the other psiionic. Again, not strong enough evidence, they'd say I tampered with them.

Xrumon's not even sure what she's hoping for. For him to go over the entire plan in his head at some point?

Ullane says that just...something. What else can she do. Perhaps she should give up. A...friend told me not to, but what else can I do?

She closes her eyes. "Maybe this is it. I should just give myself over. Take what I have, hope for a lesser sentence."

"Could always call him on the stand. Maybe he'll sweat to death under a cross examination." Xrumon mentions. 

She snorts. "He's Grey Mob, you think they'd even let that happen? Doubt he'd ever come to court to begin with, too much of a risk."

"They would if the prosecution requested it." he points out. "It's a lot less suspicious in that case, since it's to seal the deal on you getting shot in the head."

"No, no, ripped by dogs." She reminds him, with wry humor. "Hm. Maybe so."

"In that case, should prepare for court. Don't think there's anything else left for me to do."

Priori actually looks slightly surprised for once and Ullane rolls her eyes.

"You thought different? I knew how this would likely end. I can tell when I'm beaten."

"Gee, aren't you a ray of moonlight. Have you even hired a defense attorney?" Xrumon asks.

She closes her eyes. "Yes. Have one ready."

Priori, raising her eyebrows. "An indigo. How do you know her?"

Ullane merely smiles. "She owes me a favor."

"Also, don't want to hear about my lack of moonlight from a black hole." she says, deadpan as usual, but a smile twitches on her lips.

"Hey, black holes trap light, they don't have a total absence of it.”

"I'll write you an apology in cursive and seal it with wax." The yellowblood says, flippant.

"Win your court case first before bothering."

"Don't you want a last memento of being right about something over me?" She teases.

"Not really, no, that'd just be pathetic to lord over someone right before they get fed to dogs." Xrumon says bluntly. 

She laughs softly. "Is that so. Well, I'll need to prepare, then."

The medic leaves Xrumon and Priori alone.

Priori looks at Xrumon and shakes her head. 

"You know she can't win. They'll make her look bad, and she already looks bad enough. Why do you pretend otherwise? You of all people know what the courts are like."

"Do not go gentle into that good light, old age should burn and rave at close of night; Rage, rage against the dying of the night," he responds, unperturbed. "Or would you prefer the more common saying? Better to die on your feet, than live on your knees."

"Gerrel told her that." She says, amused.

"Then he knows what it's like to get his head smashed in and have to stand back up too."

"Ullane doesn't think she should stand back up. You know that's half the problem. She wouldn't even be doing anything if she didn't feel it was expected of her. Though, she also feels bad for Calcit."

"That's why I have to remind her to give a shit about trying. I have to drag my skeletal ass around doing shit still, she doesn't get to stop trying just because a court case is a little hard."

Priori laughs. "You two are so funny. Most people think you hate her."

"You insult someone hard enough one time and that's all anyone ever remembers."

"It was several times." She says, amused.

"Case in point."

"Is it?"

"Yes."

"Who am I to argue with a former lawman."

Her smile indicates she would, but she thinks not doing so is funnier.

"Anyone on the street would, really."

"How lucky I'm not anyone."

"No, you're just you. Who knows everything she shouldn't."

She smiles as usual. "Should, shouldn't. People spend too much worrying about those things. No matter what you think or know, it all comes down to what you actually say and do."

"And what you do is be weird as shit!"

"I like to seek out like company. Which reminds me. I should visit Friday. Should Ullane actually die, she'll certainly show up crying on your doorstep."

"She won't die. She's too fucked up to die. Death only takes the good ones."

"Well, she would hate me spoiling her surprise, so I might as well: she plans not to. For all her mopey talk, she has a plan. When doesn't she. She's Ullane Wistim. Good, bad, very ill-advised; she always has a plan."

"See? Told you. I can know things too, without having to cheat with whatever power you have."

She smiles. "I don't know if it will work. I can't tell the future. But it's quite the preparation she'll be making along with her legal one."

"I'm sure it's something fantastically stupid and horrible, as opposed to something sane like hiring a better attorney."

"Mm. I wouldn't call it stupid. Risky, but it's all things she's worked with before. Horrible, yes, some trolls might consider it so. It won't be pleasant to watch, if she has to fall back on it. I can't say about the attorney, I don't even know her name yet."

"Only her caste."

Elsewhere, the yellowblood speaks on the phone to her lawyer, one Indrid Dynast, and then hangs up the phone.

She releases a breath. She tries, with minimal success, to relax her almost permanently stiff shoulders.

Ullane Wistim looks over the records of the things she has done to herself. Her bones and organs, reinforced. The psiionic enhancer she built into herself recently updated with Friday’s assistance, made even more powerful. Regenerative capules inserted into her body, should they be needed if she is torn at by dogs.

Another boosting serum, ready for before she goes to the trial.

A note, written, to be put out just before she leaves.

It seems a fitting summary of her life. 

Science, and regrets.

A woman who believes she deserves to die, yet tries so hard to live. This is the last we'll hear from her for a time. Now the baton passes to her lawyer, miss Dynast.

I hope you'll enjoy the show.

I did.

[cloudbattrolls]

Apprehended

This drabble is preceded by Malpracticer, and followed by The Art of Knowing.

She digs herself deeper. She cannot help it, I suppose. 

Ullane reflects, in the wake of her foul act, that she should ask for Xrumon’s advice when she gets back to the clinic. The former legislacerator is a reliable source of ideas in situations such as these.

Upon learning what the clinic administrator just did, the tealblood bluntly asks her what the hell was she was thinking.

Ullane blinks. I had to be careful, she says. 

Your definition of 'careful' is 'torturing a man to the point of insanity', states Xrumon flatly. 

Ullane, shrugging. She’s not saying it was ideal, quite the opposite, but at least this way no one knows she was there or what she did.

Does she, uh, think they're not going to wonder where she disappeared to the other night? He asks, pointed. For god's sake, did she even make sure she wasn't followed?

Ullane calmly replies that she was shielded by her tech the whole time aside from when she was in the man’s hive, and the life sense her powers give her makes it difficult to follow her.

She pretended she was in her lab the whole time she was gone (by making sure she was seen entering it) before leaving while shielded.

Wonderful, he drawls, then merely the guy will be missing a whole hour of his life with completely unusable testimony in her hand. 

She shrugs. She knows it might not be usable in court. At least she has the record for her own purposes as well.

The yellowblood then asks Xrumon for advice on what she should do regarding Yuruli.

He'd advise taking backup. Since clearly she's going to go charging in again, he says flatly.

Ullane shakes her head. She wouldn’t, she can tell this person is too much for her to handle by herself. But she didn’t tell the policeradicators before because she didn’t want the other man to get away. 

She’ll have to be even more careful with this one. The Grey Mob would be stupid to not have spies among the imperial forces. 

Assuming they would even help her, she adds dryly. She’s an accused lowblood.

What about the guy assigned to this case? Xrumon asks. Wasn't he some low level nobody?

She grimaces. Poor Hovend. He doesn’t deserve to be involved in any of this. He’s clearly in the wrong job, he seems very sad whenever she sees him.

Ullane, who just tortured a man, would feel bad about endangering Hovend because she sympathizes with him.

Well yeah, he's in the wrong job, so obviously he's not a plant because that would be stupid, Xrumon points out. So he could, theoretically, actually be helpful.

She considers that. She doubts she can get ahead of the Grey Mob anyway; she might as well reach out by this point.

That decided, the doctor leaves to ask Hovend for help, with her disturbing video as evidence.

At least she would only show the part where he said Yuruli’s name, and explain she tracked him through DNA collected from Calcit’s hive. She’d share the DNA sample as well for the sake of transparency.

Hovend looks at her and remarks that he has never been more terrified of someone in his life. Still, he continues, nice detective work aside from the flagrant illegality and evident torture of some kind. 

Actually, the torture improves it, at least if one of his superiors had been the one doing it. He sighs sadly; you know how it is with caste bias.

Ullane is saddened by Hovend’s fear, ears drooping, but knows she deserves it. She nods, knowing perfectly well what she did was horrible and it would be stupid and empty to say she didn’t want to, because clearly it happened regardless.

Anyway, he can see about checking Yuruli's name out in their registry. They have been after a jean counterfeiting ring for a while now, in fact, one of his assignments is to...make any headway at all on this. It will be mildly suspicious that he got a lead, but no one really cares if he gets one, so (nervous chuckle) not a huge deal.

She blinks in surprise. Huh. Well, she hopes he gets the credit. She nods at him in respect.

The name is in their database, someone with ties to the grey mob but nothing with real evidence. The dna "professionally recovered" from the hive of a recent murder victim can be used to link them to a potential hive burglary. 

Which is just barely enough to justify a raid with the minimum of firepower. He'll have to call his partner in on this one, a pained wince on his face as he says it.

Ullane, looking sympathetic. Who’s his partner?

Yegeri Bulvey, he imparts, the only other person almost as untrusted as him. Don't tell him he said that. He's very big on paperwork, but he is pretty good muscle. The reason he can't move forward, unlike Hovend, is because he actually insists on everything being done properly.

Ullane blinks. She didn’t think people like that lasted long on the force.

They do when the alternative is not having someone to force all the unwanted paperwork on, Hovend clarifies.

She snorts. Ah, she should have guessed.

Now, officially, a civilian would be prohibited from participating in any raid, he states. But if a civilian were to coincidentally be in the area at the same time and want to do their imperial duty in stopping a criminal, well, there's nothing he can do about that besides note it as a mitigating factor in a criminal trial should that person ever be tried, he states with a weak smile.

Ullane smiles more softly than someone capable of such terrible things should be able to, and nods to him with a respectful look again. Thank you.

She brought him another origami creature. A dragon. They say it’s their sweep, this sweep.

This one still isn’t perfect, but it’s better than the parrot.

Wow!! He loves it, and carefully takes hold of it. He'll put it right next to his outgoing work tray, that way he can be reminded of something else good whenever he manages to finish something.

She nods. She thinks he will, in the future.

He sure hopes so, the boss gets very peeved when the quota isn't met. He can never keep up on his beating quotas...

Ullane pauses. He’s supposed to beat people up?

Everyone is! There's a monthly requirement. Supposed to show that you're 'empire strong' and 'dedicated'.

She rolls her eyes, feeling no need to comment on how stupid she thinks that is. Hovend is stronger for not needing to show he’s a bully.

That's a considerate thought to have, but he's pretty sure if he tried to bully people he might get killed.

She nods. He might. It’s still good that he doesn’t do it, though she’s sorry his boss gets mad at him.

It's okay, he's gotten used to it now. He can send her a message when they're finally ready to go to the suspect's place, but she had better be prepared for anything. Anyone above footsoldier rank in the grey mob never goes down easily. it's like they only promote the people with the weirdest abilities

Ullane nods. Thankfully, she also has a weird ability. 

She is…sorry for disturbing him.

Oh, it's no problem! She's a fun visitor. aside from the horror. Every night there's something new to scare him anyway, so, you know.

She sigh-laughs. She can believe it.

…I used to want to kill all the horrors, Ullane says. Seems like I turned into one instead. Life is strange, isn’t it?

Actually it's pretty horrible most of the time, Hovend replies. But there's nice moments, like when a doctor gives you a paper dragon.

She blinks, surprised by what he says, but nods and looks grateful. She waves goodbye. Good luck, Hovend.

He's going to need it! He has to buff the dents out of his shield...

The yellowblood later gets an email giving her the time and place to be - a warehouse in the industrial part of the city. When she arrives, she’s just in time to see Hovend and his partner kicking down a door to get in. 

His partner is a lot bulkier than Hovend, with somewhat droopy hair and fangs leering from his mouth. He's the one who kicks in the door, followed by Hovend nervously running forward with his shield held up - just in time to catch a wide spray of gunfire as the two of them charge in.

Looking into the warehouse reveals the culprit themself, holding a heavy machine gun in their hands and somehow not being knocked on their ass by the recoil. Yegeri and Hovend are stuck by a bunch of crates that are getting obliterated, but neither of them can really move so long as the gun keeps firing.

Ullane intends to put Yuruli to sleep, but her psi has a drawback: it only works at relatively close range. She’ll have to get closer before she can attempt it - while the storm of bullets is going.

Fortunately, she prepped for this by wearing body armor under her clothes as well as a helmet, and she is currently invisible.

She crawls toward them, hoping she can make it within range to knock them out.

A hail of gunfire kicks up the ground alongside her, the sheer force of the bullets leaving dents in the concrete floor. 

Behind her, there's a sharp ping of some kind, and shortly after she can see a canister being thrown over her head and towards Yuruli... who stops firing for a moment to squint at it. It crumples like a giant closed its fist around it, then crashes to the floor a little in front of Ullane as if it hit a brick wall midair.

Then it goes off in a bright flash, with an extremely loud bang!

The doctor is briefly stunned, her helmet shielding her from the worst of it.

By the time she can see again, Hovend and his partner have moved forward again to less destroyed crates. A significant chunk of Hovend's shield has been blown away, and there's mild amounts of his blood on his pants and shoes now. 

Yuruli has ducked behind a forklift, and now both they and Hovend’s partner are engaged in a fierce shouting match about surrendering.

She tries to crawl close enough to be able to knock Yuruli out, especially since they’re conveniently distracted. Ullane is extra cautious, not wanting to risk making footstep noises since she doesn’t know what their power is and clearly it’s strong.

She's able to make decent progress while the two idiots keep shouting at each other, until Yuruli gets fed up and holds up a fist. 

There's a massive splintering noise as an entire shelf of heavy looking tools and machinery buckles under sudden weight. Then it starts to collapse, with a lot of it starting to fall and block off the path forward - but not yet entirely, for the concussion confident.

Ullane grits her teeth and leaps up into a run, hoping the noise of the falling objects will cover the sound of her movements as she tries to get run past it and be only minimally hit.

A few wrenches bounce off her shoulders and a heavy block of something gives her skull a rattle, but bringing the helmet means it took the worst of the damage. 

When she gets through to the other side, she can see Yuruli isn't too far away now, having begun moving towards a back door exit.

No sign yet of either of the two tealbloods.

The impacts jostle her, even with the helmet and body armor, so she will very carefully make her way closer to them, trying to regulate her breathing so it isn’t too heavy.

Finally she makes it within fifteen feet of the grey mob troll, immediately trying to knock them out with a flare of psi.

It works seamlessly; Yuruli goes down after thankfully not noticing her. A minute later the two teals show up, Hovend limping slightly and Yegeri with a few new bruises to show for his trouble. They both stare in puzzlement at the sleeping anonblood.

Ullane speaks to warn them she’s cloaked and to please not shoot her if she turns it off.

It's a good thing that neither of them are holding guns at the moment, since both of them jump pretty badly at the sudden voice from nowhere. Hovend recognizes her voice and spends several moments frantically calming his partner down before he starts punching the air in search of the Mystery Ghost. 

Hovend would also thank Ullane for... whatever she did, since neither of them were relishing getting too close to Yuruli (Yegeri grumbles under his breath about having it handled, he had put a bomb outside the exit door...)

Ullane would turn her shielding off and remove her helmet, looking weary but asking them if either of them would like to be healed.

She altered their neurotransmitters, she explains calmly, inducing rapid sleep. They will wake up in an hour or so. Once they have been secured, of course.

Hovend is happy to not bleed out, showing her where a bullet 'grazed' his leg, still taking a deep furrow out of the side of it. Very fitting that it wouldn't have mattered even if the department thought they were worth body armor, seeing as nothing short of a suit of power armor would have stopped those rounds. 

Yegeri, ever distrustful, maintains he's fine without letting a civilian get at his bruises. He uses the time to instead slap a psionic inhibitor on the back of the anon's head before putting them in restraints for transport.

Ullane immediately kneels down, eyes glowing reddish pink as she detects and kills any foreign bacteria she can find. The  regular disinfectant and bandages come out of her sylladex, as she asks Hovend if he’s all right with her helping his body to heal faster.

Hey, he's fine with whatever she wants, he replies, his skin visibly pale from shock starting to set in. 

She nods and will do so, not overloading him to not potentially worsen the shock but giving him a bit of power to help make the healing process faster.

Yegeri complains that he's been running on adrenaline the whole time since he took one in the leg going in.

Ullane also says Yegeri did well.

She just gets a grunt in reply, Hovend confirms that he's always like that, which earns a series of grumbles from him. Yegeri shoulders the unconscious anon, despite their bulk, while Hovend asks Ullane if she'll be alright. 

The doctor sits down gingerly, letting out a deep breath.

She winces as her own blunted injuries catch up to her and she begins healing herself too. But yes, she’ll be fine. In a few minutes.

They have to bring the suspect in for booking and initial questioning, Hovend informs her, but hopefully they should be able to get something useful out of them.

Ullane waves them goodbye. She wishes them luck.

An odd woman, isn't she? Meaning well one moment, committing abominations the next?

I suspect not even miss medic knows who she really is inside.

[cloudbattrolls]

@trolloled

[cloudbattrolls]

The wonderful adventures of Xrumon trying to fund his soulbot with the help of his coworker and friend, who is incredibly trustworthy.

[cloudbattrolls]

The Confession

Ullane, deep breathing, pushes the door open. Stops to admire his work.

“It looks good.” Determinedly calm but positive tone.

Xrumon, blandly looking up from trying to add maintenance ports to the arms.

“You came here to tell me that I'm not completely incompetent? I could have saved you the trip.”

Ullane laughs a little, slightly hysterically. “Clearly useless support is my profession.” Pinches the bridge of her nose. “You might want to sit down.”

“Properly. With nothing in your hands.”

"Oh, good. Love hearing that. Are you about to tell me my hive burnt to the fucking ground?" He sighs, rolling his eyes. He makes a show of putting his drawing pencil down and slightly adjusting his sitting position. "Okay. I'm sitting "properly," like I've been doing for nearly a sweep."

She laughs. “Only somewhat as devastating. Yes, yes.” Plucks at a strand of hair. Looks him in the eyes. “I’m flush for you.”

There's an entirely too pregnant pause. He blinks. It's almost possible to hear the sensors whirring in his eyes. "What?" he says, sounding entirely disbelieving. "Shitty joke. What are you actually here to tell me?"

She shakes her head, looking deathly serious. “I’m not joking.”

“I know - I know how this sounds.” She laughs again, a bit helplessly, her big ears pressed down from nerves. “I’m not…I understand. I just wanted to say it.”

He doesn't respond for a moment, then looks around the room with eyes squinted. "I don't get it. Where's the bit? Is that jackass on the cameras supposed to record my reaction?" he continues, voice sounding slightly strained now.

He looks back at Ullane, eyes sweeping over her. Another moment of silence passes. His eyes widen slightly. "Elevated heart rate, but your eyes are steady. Are you... serious?" Pause.

"Why?"

She laughs gently. “You tell me the truth. You’re smart, hardworking, reliable. Funny. Interesting. You challenge me, make me want to be better. You are…wonderful, yes, even with your flaws. Because of them, sometimes.”

She’s calmer now, still nervous but not as chokingly so. Merely peacefully awaiting rejection, but happy to tell Xrumon why she loves him.

Somewhat predictably, his hands curl themselves into fists, shaking slightly.  His eyes flicker between red and teal, apparently undecided on how to present themselves. "You- You- The one who put me in my chains, the Malpracticer who trapped me like this- You-" He choked suddenly, breathing more ragged.

"A doctor falling for the patient. What a fucking cliché.  Extremely unprofessional. Monumentally stupid." He shakes his head in dismay, but his tone never rises to the level of actual fury. His eyes settle at last on teal.

"Your taste is shit. I'm not- Nobody should feel that way about me. Especially not the one who could kill me." He looks down at his feet, expression inscrutable. "What am I supposed to do now?" he asks quietly, tone sounding mildly desperate, confused.

She smiles sadly as his eyes flash, but then chuckles. “It is stupid.” She agrees. “And wrong of me given what I’ve done, I know.” “Tried so hard not to…tried to take it from my own brain, so many times, but I couldn’t.” She shakes her head.

“Then I stopped. Because my friends asked. Because you asked. Irony.” Laughs more.

She looks serious again.

“My taste is fine. I know you don’t feel the same, of course not, wouldn’t make any sense.” She laughs. “But you deserve love. Always will.” Her voice, usually so even, is full of feeling as her eyes shine slightly red-pink from her psiionics, purely from high emotion.

“I only want to be friends.” She says simply. “All I deserve, all that can be. But you deserve to know you are worth loving.”

"I don't deserve anything," he replies flatly, tone hollow. He sighs heavily, eyes closing for a moment. "We are a severely fucked up pair of people. You, the doctor that wanted to steal my technology and work me as an indentured servant. Me? What isn't fucked up with me."

"Now I have to- I have to die, knowing somebody was stupid enough to think me worth anything. It was supposed to be easy, you dumb piece of shit," he complains, eyes still closed as he shakes his head again. "In flush with someone who calls you that. Christ. How could I ever be good enough to deserve this?"

She laughs a bit grimly. “I know. I know how absurd it is.” She grins. “That’s just how you talk. Wouldn’t be you if you didn’t. And ha! I’m the rotten one here.” She says with amusement. “I couldn’t be good enough for you, not if I spent the rest of my life making up! But what do I care? It should be done anyway.” Waves a hand dismissively.

"For me?" He snaps, eyes opening up again. "You're the doctor, you save lives! You went blitzkrieg on a fucking gang with- with- whatever the hell happened, just to cut their influence out! You make people better, all I do is remind them how fucked they are!" He laughs, bitterly and without humor.

"You've probably done fucked up things, knowing you. But at least you can make up for it. Look at me, I'm not even a walking corpse. No one sane would suggest I even take your crush half seriously - and they'd be right. You'll find someone better. Less messed up. Less ruined."

She smiles sadly. “Yes, but before that - before you - it wasn’t so good. I didn’t seek out doing terrible things…but I didn’t stop them. I’d accept an offer if I thought the good outweighed the price. I have done such things, like you said. Some I had to for survival, others I didn’t.” She shakes her head. “Perhaps I could. But I don’t want them. I want you. I know it can’t be, but I’ve only cared for one troll before as much as I care for you.”

She twists a strand of hair, smiling slightly. “Believe me. It took me by surprise. I tried denying it. But I couldn’t help it.”

He looks at her for several long moments again before finally responding: "You are a damned fool. Why do I always get stuck with fools? You realize I could break your neck with one twist of my wrist, right?" He points to his exoskeleton, eyes forming a scowl.

"I can't give anything but pain, this body was built for war. You're damn right it can't be, look at me! I- I'd need a head doctor, I can't treat you like-" He cuts himself off, falling silent. An impossible to see, internal war was being fought beneath his surface.

She nods. “I do.” She blinks, confused. “You give me much. You treat me as well as you can. Yes, you’ve hurt me - but I thought you might do so again when I said this, and you haven’t.” She smiles.

“You can change. Ha. If you live…I know you could heal, find quadrants. Possibly with help, like you say. Yes, I know this is very much when you could die.” She says quietly. “But I think it’s better than saying nothing.”

"Heal. Live. What a crock of shit," he complains, shaking his head. He sighs again, then looks her back in the eye at last. "I'm going to die. You know that's almost guaranteed, like you just said," he says with stoic calm, as if listing out the weather forecast.

"So... Come here." He raises a hand, beckoning her over to where he sits, tension coiling in him like a spring.

She grins at him. “Isn’t it just like me to inflict suffering like that on you?”

Confused but obedient, she comes over, slightly befuddled yet politely intrigued.

When she comes over, his raised arm comes up to land on her shoulder, feeling like a lead weight as it pushes her a bit further down. His other arm, once she's low enough, crosses behind her back as he leans forward, pulling her, very carefully, into a hug. It's not good. Terrible, even. He smells faintly of metallic lubricant, his arms are like iron bands, and rather than give and warmth, there's only solid, cold steel.

Ullane still blushes like an idiot and relaxes anyway because oh how she’s wanted this. She is really, really, really confused, but also very happy right now. Embarrassingly for her, her hidden tail around her waist wags a little before she stops it.

After a few moments, he lets go, gently pushing her away. At the very least he doesn't seem to notice her tail. "There. Now you won't have any fucking regrets or whatever when I'm gone," he says, somehow able to look her in the eye - most likely helped by the helmet concealing his face. "But if you tell a soul, or if the fucking security vid leaks, I'm going to tear this place a new fire exit."

Ullane snorts. “You think I want to deal with Friday and Yarrex making my life hell? Not that much of a masochist.”

“In my best interests too.”

"Yeah. That's part of why I even bothered," he replies, sounding faintly amused. "You're absolutely still insane, though."

“Takes one to know one.” She shoots back with a grin.

"I'm very clear on how fucked in the head I am. Always have been, " he retorts, rolling his eyes. "Now is there anything else you need to get off your chest? Any other things to curse me with?"

“Not right now.” She says with a hint of mischief. “Keep your eyes open.”

"Oh, wonderful. Another damocles knife over my head, just what I need," he groans, eyes cast up as if seeking patience from heaven. "Fine. Get out of here then, go do some actual work before someone walks in here."

Her grin only widens as she waves goodbye and leaves, with a little spring in her step.

[cloudbattrolls]

Once in a while Ullane is a funny bitch.

[cloudbattrolls]

Following the sudden and inexplicable death of a blueblood from the specialized nanotech used by Crown Clinic, Ullane Wistim takes the fall for her employee who created it, Friday Lovely.

She then descends into a tangled investigation to figure out what truly happened and why, all the better to defend herself in court.

Her life hangs in the balance, and even if she lives, she will be barred from practicing medicine.

It is it has always been: there is no sin she can escape the consequence of.

There is always more to lose.

CHARACTERS:

Ullane Wistim, Friday Lovely, Yarrex Fissaa, Priori Poster, Hovend Jegder, Gerrel Mitius, Indrid Dynast, Xrumon Arigah & assorted others and NPCs

STORY PARTS:

PART ONE: THE INVESTIGATION

Shattered

Picking Up The Pieces

The Waiting Game

Digging Deeper

Dead Silent

Abrasion (optional reading)

Chasing Shadows

Malpracticer

Apprehended

The Art of Knowing

Last Call

PART TWO: THE TRIAL

A Rough Start

Cutting Commentary

Setting the Snare

Grey Tidings

Fear No More

[cloudbattrolls]

Xrumon Arigah’s Surgical Extraction Procedure

AS WRITTEN AND DICTATED BY ULLANE WISTIM, M.D, IN THE CROWN CLINIC

PREP BEFORE OPERATION:

All surgeons will be fed, watered, well rested, and having used the restroom. They will have woken up shortly before the operation starts due to its duration. All surgeons will be wearing proper attire - head covers, masks, and scrub suits. Sterile scrub suits, shoes, gloves, and goggles will be provided by the clinic, donned upon entry into the operating room to provide the lowest possible bacterial contamination during the operation. 

The operating theater will be prepared with sufficient room to remove, lift, and rotate sections of the suit to provide access to all the systems requiring detachment. These sections will be held and maneuvered with hover-tech above the operating surgeons for maximum ease of access to the patient and a clear field for operations. 

The patient will have been scanned by intraoperative CT prior to the operation, and 3D imagery of these scans will be displayed on wall screens to give surgeons access to all information about his internal organs. These images can be changed at will with simple voice commands.

Lard’s note: The person in the suit would be kept standing while being worked on - picture a sort of medical stand, keeping the patient upright even while unconscious, which allows mechanics/doctors access to everything except the literal soles of the feet. Which they shouldn't need access to, and even if they did, they could just move the stand onto a lift of some kind.

Surgeons will be sustained via nutritionally sufficient meal drinks provided. Short rest breaks will be allowed in shifts. Surgeons requiring restroom breaks will need to be sterilized before returning to the operating room. 

Robots will be present with biological waste containers to ferry waste away for autoclaving. Robots will also be present to bring and take away tools and equipment. 

The suit will be put into maintenance mode so that the subject can be safely operated on, and general anesthetic will be performed. A catheter will be inserted and IVs will be connected to supply sources on movable, levitating robots. The subject will have already undergone fasting, being shaved, and using clinic-issue painkillers for two weeks instead of his standard variety.

LIST OF SURGICAL TOOLS:

Harmonic Scalpel - A surgical instrument used to simultaneously cut and cauterize tissue. Ultrasonic energy is converted to mechanical energy at the active blade to apply pressure and then seal with a denatured protein coagulum. It has almost no thermal spread and smoke production, making it the safest model possible. 

Protective Goggles - In appearance they are ordinary surgical goggles, and provide protection from spurts of blood and other bodily fluids the same way. They can be adjusted with the tap of a button or voice command to provide advanced perception of oxygenated versus un-oxygenated blood, and generate vein road maps.

LIST OF CLINIC INVENTIONS:

Internal Laryngeal Rebreather - A liquid that goes down the patient’s throat and expands into the airway, becoming an internal, independent structure instead of an external mask that would impede other surgeries. The oxygen intake is reduced, so it is inadvisable to wear for long periods - this is why it will only be utilized in later stages of the surgery. 

Regenerative Serum - A substance derived from Thrixe Varzim’s tissue that allows for controlled regeneration of a troll’s body. It speeds healing and can allow for minor regrowth of lost biological matter. It must be used in small doses to not accidentally cause cancerous activity or undo surgical work, as it only regrows tissue in its natural form.

Bio-Sponge Buds - A modified version of the synthetic troll flesh already utilized by the clinic, these have been custom engineered by Ullane Wistim out of Xrumon Arigah’s DNA, monofilament fibers, and a bioabsorbable scaffold for optimal integration and structural integrity in his stomach wall. 

Nanotechnology - A specific brand created by Friday Lovely, these tiny repair vehicles made of her own radiation-resistant DNA can be programmed to fulfill a variety of tasks during surgery.

SURGERY PROCESSES, IN ORDER:

VISUAL SENSOR SUITE DISCONNECTION STEPS:

Due to it hampering the eventual necessary removal of the helmet, the visual sensor suite will be disconnected first. 

The head will be held in an altered 3-pin skull fixation device (to accommodate the patient’s standing position) to keep it absolutely still during the surgeries. 

3D image-guidance will be used to display the patient’s internal condition to the 3D computer model created from the CT scan. 

The helmet sections will be adjusted and slide aside so that the suite may be accessed. The skin will be prepped with an antiseptic. A cranial drill will be used to drill through the skull, exposing the dura, which will be peeled back to allow access to the brain. 

The optic nerve will be held and isolated via forceps as it is packed with cottonoids for protection. The cells grown into the conduits will be dissociated by injections of TrypLE, so that the conduits may be safely removed without damaging the vitreous humor.

His eyes will be monitored for their light response (and integrity of the optic nerve) at all times. Regenerative serum will be immediately applied via infused cottonoids if damage is sustained.

The skull bone will be sealed back in place with laser soldering. 

It will be likely the patient has sustained minor vision loss due to scar buildup around the conduits, but this will be addressed post-surgery. 

PSIIONIC DAMPENER REMOVAL STEPS: 

Dioscuri’s Area is the part of the troll brain where psiionic energy is generated; it is tied to voluntary motor functions, as while psiionic abilities are not muscularly based, even passively present powers require focus from the user to manipulate at will.

Fortunately for Xrumon Arigah, he has no psiionic powers, so removal is safe in that regard.

The dampener will be removed second, after the visual sensor suite. After its removal, psiionic influence on the surgery will be possible via Ullane Wistim and Friday Lovely’s psiionics. 

Once the helmet sections are slid back to expose the head, the skull will be cut into via cranial drill and the dampener will be located. Once it is located the wires attaching it to the Dioscuri region will be carefully detached via a stent-retriever inserted by way of a micro catheter.

Once all wires have been detached and removed from the body, the dampener itself will be extracted. 

As with all neurological operations during this surgery, laser soldering will once more be used to seal the brain tissue after incision and prevent damage and blood loss. 

VITAL SIGNS MONITOR REMOVAL STEPS:

The monitor must first be removed from where it is hooked into the patient’s brain stem by PEDOT clusters. Sterile saline solution will be used to sanitize and avoid excess heating while drilling through the skull to reach the clusters, microspheres meshed with the brainstem via hydrogels. 

A lighted scope will be used to view the site clearly, and it will be clipped to prevent full circulation so the patient does not die of blood loss. The clusters will be detached via a syringe inserted into the capillary of the correct cerebellar blood vessel to extract all the PEDOTS clusters, earlier located during the CT scan. 

A small window will be drilled into the bone above the spinal cord to observe the monitor site and to make it possible to extract after the wires are detached, all the way down to the base of the vertebrae at the conus medullaris. 

A few key incisions along the spine will be made to access the scar tissue around the wires, and nanotech delivering extracorporeal shockwave treatment will be used to loosen and draw them out by gentle tissue dissolution around the sites. 

The neck muscles will be spread apart to allow extraction via retractor, then a bony well will be drilled to access the monitor, using a silicone replica of the monitor as a guide to ensure the exact necessary depth and no further. 

The monitor will then be set aside, along with the wires.

ADVANCED WARFARE CENTER REMOVAL STEPS:

Located prior via CT scan, the microchips will be reached by syringes piercing the brain matter exactly where the chips in their capsules are located. 

Care must be taken to ensure the brain tissue itself is not damaged in the process. As is standard, regenerative serum injections will be prepped in case damage is sustained.

The microchips will be set aside and later prepped for hazardous waste disposal.

BREATH OF LIFE SYSTEM REMOVAL STEPS:

Infrared fluorescent imaging will be used to provide a real-time model of the patient’s lungs and the structures within during this operation.

A bite block followed by an endoscope will be placed down the patient’s throat. This will deliver nanotech to dissolve the anti-clotting coating on the cannulas so that hemostatic nanoparticles may temporarily clot his blood to prevent the patient choking to death. 

The oxygenator membrane and pump will be disabled by nanotech to safely cut off its power source, then the lung pumps’ tubes loosened and detached gradually. The tubes - cannulas-  will be disassembled into their glass and wire components, and removed back up the endoscope via nanotech, and set aside. This step will need to be done incrementally over several minutes to ensure safe disconnect. 

The stomach tube will also need to be disconnected and disassembled. All tubes require time to do so properly, as the cannulas are structured to avoid bubbling in the blood vessels and support a smooth transition to prevent improper drainage and maintain regular flow levels. 

As the drainage is redirected, more hemostatic particles will both absorb the excess and other nanoparticles will temporarily graft and re-direct blood to other vessels so the patient does not die of blood loss. 

In the likely case of damage caused during the surgery, nanotech carrying regenerative serum will also be accompanying the disassembly units. Regardless of additional harm, the vessels the tubes were attached to will need to be repaired by this method before the nanotech is removed once more. 

Finally, a ventilator will need to be attached afterward to help his lungs transition back to their usual functionality. 

BLOODFLOW REGULATOR REMOVAL STEPS: 

The chest will be cut open below the collarbone, and pacing leads will be attached to the cardiac veins. Plastic tubing will be inserted over leads as sheaths to break up the scar tissue that has formed around the vein sites. The leads will be anchored via suture after fixation to prevent dislodging. 

The regulator will first be disconnected from the devilfish reflex kit via surgical scissor and the wound sealed via harmonic scalpel, then disconnected from the heart itself. 

A smaller, less powerful biventricular pacemaker will be installed to ease the loss of the old one, as his heart has come to depend on it. It will be implanted inside the heart itself, with a lead attached to a vein under the collarbone on one side and the pulse generator on the other. 

In time, he will ideally be able to survive without one entirely. 

DEVILFISH REFLEX KIT DISCONNECTION STEPS:

All conduits must be disconnected from the relevant nerve clusters without paralyzing the patient from damage to his nervous system or incurring fatal amounts of blood loss. This stage of the surgery will be the longest; surgeons will be swapped out every three hours to ensure focus and quality of work is retained.

The conduits will be cut via robotically operated surgical scissors, and harmonic scalpels will be used to seal openings.

In case of any damage, nerves can later be repaired via a few different methods: suture, grafting, or transfer. This will be a future operation, as any damage will only be able to be patched and not fully repaired in the present moment due to time constraints. 

Intraoperative cell salvage will be used to prevent the patient from dying of blood loss. Blood will be collected, combined with anticoagulant, centrifuged, washed in saline, and reinfused periodically by robots. 

One to two surgeons will operate a robotic set of instruments to detach the conduits - allowing for tremor-free and magnified views of the vital nerve clusters - as others perform the cell salvage and set the conduits aside, ready to pause in case of emergencies. 

ANTI-TOXIN FILTER DISCONNECTION STEPS:

The dialysis units in the suit must be safely disconnected from the subject’s kidneys and liver. 

The hazards primarily involve not tearing the fistula connection site, as the vein and artery connection will bleed heavily if torn during removal of the tubing. Excessive clotting should also be avoided.

The units must be prepared for removal. First, they will be switched off, then the units’ lines must be clamped to prevent blood loss. Saline will be kept on hand for emergency infusions, and to flush the tubes in case of any clotting. 

Nanotech will be used to disconnect the tubing by loosening it safely so the needles may be removed nigh-instantly via scalpel and needle pliers. To best prevent damage and complications, they will be removed at the same angle they were inserted, and with moderate compression via nanotech to both prevent excess clotting and circulatory issues. 

The kidney units themselves must be removed via disassembly via laparoscopic tube (similarly to the breath of life regulator) and the wound sealed shut using subcuticular stitches (placed below the epidermal layer).

The liver unit will follow the same process, using the same supracostal incision. 

An external dialysis machine will then be connected following the removal of all three units, to ensure his body does not fail from the dependence it will have likely developed during its time connected to the units.

IRON JAW REMOVAL STEPS:

The front portion of the helmet will be opened, and the mouth propped open with gags. 

The patient will be switched from breathing tubes to the laryngeal airway mask substitute, allowing direct access to the tongue. 

This substitute will also contain the solvent to dissolve the hardening compound. When the compound is fully dissolved, it and the solvent can be safely swallowed. 

WAVEFORM ALIGNMENT RETICULATOR DISCONNECTION STEPS:

First, the stomach will be inflated via tube-delivered carbon dioxide gas, to have a clear view of its lining. 

The reticulator itself will first be secured via medical cinch. The clips holding the tube in place will be removed and the primed buds containing bio-sponge will be placed in the clips’ former locations via syringe. 

The tube will be pulled through the stomach wall as the buds generate and weave a mesh plug over the hole in under a second. This allows for the minimum possible leakage. 

The tube removal site will then be covered with a sterile dressing to further contain any later leakage and later changed periodically. 

Afterward, the patient will receive medication to reduce his stomach acid to facilitate the healing and successful graft of the stomach hole.

CLEAN CHAIN REACTOR REMOVAL STEPS:

The final operation. Before it is undertaken, the vitals of the suit must be checked to ensure all other disconnects are stable.

Xrumon must still be under anesthesia, and he must be stabilized with fresh IV fluids to prepare him for full life-support disconnect. 

Much like the reticulator, the reactor will follow similar securement and removal steps, and the stomach hole will need to be plugged using the same method as above. Once this hole is plugged, Xrumon will be fully detached from the suit.

Once this is done, the patient laid down to rest and stabilize with the aforementioned post-surgery procedures and the suit itself must be set aside.

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ULLANE’S BACKUP PLAN, SHOULD XRUMON SEEM IRRECOVERABLY ON THE BRINK OF DEATH, AS A PROJECTED MESSAGE THAT WILL SHOW IF SHE IS COMPELLED TO USE UP ALL HER PSIIONIC ENERGY IN ONE BURST:

To my staff, should this be necessary -

I have had ports installed under my skin like those of helms. So that if I must overclock my psiionics to save Xrumon’s life, I will be immediately stabilized, preventing brain damage if not other damage from burnout, though the ports are also designed to release regenerative serum if such occurs. I have fallen unconscious, and can be safely revived after an hour’s rest. 

I know you’ll question me; you’re right to. But even if this is the wrong decision, it’s the one I’m making. Ideally, it won’t be necessary. 

I would still rather do it to ensure his survival. He must live.

No matter what. 

- Ullane Wistim