“Can you do this for our children? The young ones?”
Thornby frowned. “In an adult I'd put the chances of survival below five percent. A child... under two, still in their formative years... I don't know. Let me run some simulations and get back to you on that. Since they are still growing it might be easier... or more dangerous. I don't know.”
“Thank you doctor. At least you've been honest with us.”
“Too often we've been promised something only to be later told it is impossible. For you to come right out and tell us... and to still try something, that is worthwhile to hear.”
“Thank you. I think. Now let's see what I can make happen.”
...*...*...*...*...
Doctor Martel smiled tiredly as they met up in the lift. They were finally making some headway, there was some light at the end of the tunnel. The Chimerians had accepted plastic surgery for their generation, with genetic changes to their reproductive systems for the following generation. They were still working out the details, but an end to the project was in reach. “Going my way?” she asked, smiling politely to doctor Thornby.
“That depends, are you heading to the shipment?” Thornby asked. They both knew they were going to the shipment, neither one could stop ogling at the riches. The Ynari equipment was most likely useless, but they could analyze it. The software alone would help them fill in so many gaps in their genetic engineering knowledge base.
“Maybe,” Doctor Martel drawled.
“Wicked,” Thornby teased. “New toys to play with. I bet you can't wait to get started. Have you finished reading the manuals?”
“That's why I'm going now, I finished with the gene sequencer, but I forgot to grab the uterine one. The beta one. I'm not sure it will suit our purposes with the Ssilli, though we might be able to adapt it for the initial stages of conception.”
“I'm not sure if that is wise to move the fetuses. It might be better to have a machine that can go through all their development stages.”
“But they're eggs. We'll need some sort of incubation system after birth. Well, not really incubation, they are birthed in long strings in warm pools.” She shook her head as the lift bounced and then changed tracks. After a moment a green light lit and they continued, this time moving sideways.
“Isn't it nice to have these things working properly? Can you imagine going all the way there on foot?” Thornby asked, smiling.
“You'd probably say screw it and either look at the gear through a camera or go EVA and get in from an airlock.”
“Maybe,” Thornby replied with a slight smile.
“Lazy,” Martel teased, hip bumping her boss.
“No, just not as um, obsessive compulsive as some people,” Thornby teased right back.
“Devil's in the details dear, you know that,” Martel sighed, shaking her head mournfully.
“Maybe but...” Doctor Thornby stopped what she was saying as the lift stopped and the doors opened. She frowned as three bald human men were standing there. “Um, sorry,” she said as the two women got off the lift.
“You're quite right doctor, you are sorry,” the man with the brutal face said as the large male grabbed both women from behind. A quick move and they were in the nearby broom closet. The door closed behind them. Thornby gasped but before she could put up a fight The no nonsense human leader flashed a pulser. He let her get a good look before he holstered it and opened a bag.
“What do you want?” Martel demanded plaintively. She was practically in tears, hands up in front of her chest, afraid for her life, and for good reason.
“What does it look like lady?” One of the men demanded. Each had clear face masks on.
“I don't know! I'm just a geneticist!” Martel said. “You want credits? Take my ID! Here!” she dropped her ID. Three scooped it up.
“Do we look like common scrags lady? We want what everyone wants. The shipment.”
“You're insane. You'll never get it off the station. And if you do it'll be tracked!”
“Maybe, but then again, maybe not,” Trenton said, smiling coldly. “That's for me to know, and you too well... guess at I suppose,” he said nastily.
“Hey, um, One we don't need two right?” Three asked. He was a thin guy, rat faced, almost stick like. He held a cut down pulser in one hand. The pulser looked well used.
“Shut it. Two is better than one,” One said as the big bruiser held both women in his arms.
He must have been a heavyworlder, he was incredibly strong Thornby realized. She knew she was in trouble but wasn't sure why help hadn't arrived yet.
The leader applied zip ties to the wrists of each woman, then zipped their wrists to their throats. He grinned nastily as he stuffed rags in their mouths and then taped them shut. “Carry them two, let's get out of here,” he said, turning away. “Oh and ladies? If you're expecting someone to ride to your rescue, keep hoping. We've got that covered.”
Three was at the door, he looked out both ways and then nodded. Carefully they headed out. Both women shuffled along, fists clenched in front of them. Thornby felt through her link and hit the distress signal. After a moment she felt a response from her computer in her office, then her signal went out and all hell broke loose. She closed her eyes as inquiries flooded her implants, drowning her in noise and demands.
She stumbled, and the hood behind her poked her. “Pay attention lady,” the one called two grumbled.
Thornby glanced longingly to the warehouse district. They weren't that far away.
“Don't worry lady,” she heard. They paused at a corner. The bald male called 'One' smirked at her. “We'll head over there and pick up what we want later. Everyone cooperates and you'll be home by breakfast. They give us any shit and they'll be picking you out of the recyclers for months,” he said, smiling a nasty smile behind the clear mask he had on to distort his face. He had gold incisors, and a battered face under the mask. He stared at her coldly with his red eyes, making sure she knew he meant business before he brusquely waved them onward.
After about a hundred meters they paused when 'Three' touched his ear. He swore. “Boss,” he said, holding a fist up. Two bumped the girls then yanked them back against his chest.
“What?” One demanded angrily.
“We've got trouble. Cops. They are around us, cutting us off.”
“Shit! Four!” One snarled, turning away and pulling out a microphone.
...*...*...*...*...
Jethro was on shift and heard the distress signal and responded, leaving his post first at a trot, then a run as Lieutenant Myers reported she wouldn't get to the Commander for another twenty minutes. As he ran the panther watched the feed from the good doctor in a window on his HUD. Station security had cut off their planned egress and they were now trapped in a blind corridor. One of the men was picking at a vent cover, trying to get the thing off. He angrily yanked off the clear mask he'd had on so he could see and breathe better.
“I thought you said this was a sure thing Richy, I mean...”
“Shut your pie hole! And what'd I say about names duffus?”
“Sorry Richy,” the big brute holding the two women said.
His leader looked up to him and sighed, shaking his head in disgust. “Amateurs,” he muttered, thoroughly disgusted. “Surrounded by nitwits and buffoons.”
Jethro winced, the doctor was rolling her eyes, disorienting him. He missed a step and slowed his stride to compensate.
“What I don't get is why the camera trick didn't work. You said it was a sure thing. Mae had it all done right?” The big guy asked, with a growing whine in his voice. He jerked the ladies around and pushed them to their knees.
“Apparently something else happened or the damn AI saw through it,” Richy replied, not looking up as he used a multitool to patiently unscrew the bolts holding the vent on. “I just need to get three bolts off and we're out of here. How is it going Three?”
“Three?” Duffus asked stupidly, then looked around. He looked at th
e guy leaning against the corner with a pulser in his hands. “Um...”
“Yes he means me. Damn I don't know where you were picked up from or why. Dumb muscle indeed,” the thin human said, shaking his head. “We're cool. They are sending a bot in to negotiate from what I can hear and see. Mae's feeding me the camera feed from their line.”
“Oh.”
Suddenly the man stopped. “Can they hear us?”
“Why?”
“Cause all the cops just stopped what they were doing and all looked at the damn cameras. Spooky.”
“I'd say something's up. They know we're tinkering with their feed. Four's about out of time.”
“She knows,” Three said, shaking his head. He was a cold one, cold blue eyes, bald, with tribal tattoos on his lean frame. He had a ripped blue tank top on, and parachute pants. The pockets were stuffed with gear. Thornby noted a pair of hand grenades. Those worried her.
As Jethro got to the line he nodded to the cops and robot cordoning it off. But as one put out his hands to stop him Jethro ripped off his uniform and handed it to the Neobear. The polar bear stood their stunned as the panther kicked off his boots, handed him his pulser and then began to cloak. “Hold this. I'll be back for it in a minute,” Jethro growled as he disappeared.
A cop behind the polar bear turned just as the cloak finished. He gaped like a fish, mouth open in stunned disbelief.
Jethro danced through security, turning sideways when necessary, but quickly moving through the line of armed people and robots to get to the front.
He'd been careful to cloak outside the feed the hoods were monitoring. Hopefully this Mae wasn't monitoring it directly. He watched on his HUD as the hood named Three looked down at a tablet in his free hand to keep an eye on things. His distraction nearly got him squished by a moving explosives robot. He slid past the thing and then crept up to the line.
Men and women, some human, some Veraxin, a few Neo's were there in police uniforms. A few had SWAT armor. It was just the hood's bad luck to have abducted the doctors on the same deck as an earlier SWAT call. Jethro snorted and froze as the men looked around. Slowly he got around them and cut the corner wide.
The hood named Three looked right at him, but kept turning his head scanning the area. Slowly Jethro crept up on all fours, stealthily stalking the enemy. He noted the leader Richy had finished his second bolt and was tearing at the vent. He was bending it, but he was wasting his time trying to bend it instead of just removing the last bolt and swiveling the thing out of the way.
Jethro made a quick assessment and then acted, using his enhanced strength he slammed the leader Richy into the wall head first when no one was looking. As he slumped the other two turned to him in confusion. Jethro felt his concentration slip as he moved faster, slicing his claws into Three's gun hand, making the man gasp and drop the weapon in shock and pain.
Just as the man clutched at his bleeding hand and started to scream Jethro rabbit punched him in the gut. He folded, gasping and falling to the deck in clear view of the cops around the corner.
By this time the dumb hood Duffus twigged that something was up and grabbed the doctor. He turned and the doctor's feet were thrown into the air, clipping Jethro. The panther grunted at the impact but didn't slow, he moved into the man's personal space and gripped his throat with his right hand and then uncloaked.
The big human male froze at the grip at his throat, then wet himself as an apparition decloaked in front of him. Jethro was snarling, panting slightly, ears flat, eyes narrowed. “Give me an excuse,” he growled dangerously, throwing subsonics from his implants into that growl.
Slowly the man's grip loosened and he let the doctor go. She stomped on his foot and he winced but didn't move as she ducked under Jethro's arm and called out an all clear to the officers. She kicked Three in the head for good measure, making him groan.
“Wha... what the hell are you?” The man asked, eyes wide. He was sweating bullets, hands open at his sides as security forces rounded the corner cautiously and took down Three, forcing him onto his stomach and his hands behind his back to cuff him.
“You're worst nightmare. A Marine,” Jethro snarled as the cops got to him. He let go as they snarled for everyone to get on the floor.
“You okay Commander?” Jethro asked, nodding to the doctor. “Doctor?” he asked, looking down to doctor Martel, noting the leader Richy was being cuffed. Roughly the cops jerked the hood to his feet and hustled him out of the area.
“Doctor Martel?” Jethro asked as Doctor Thornby knelt by her side.
“She's okay, we're both okay, thanks to you. Thanks to all of you. Thank you,” Doctor Thornby said. She was a little worse for wear, with a black eye and torn lip, but she seemed okay. Jethro let out a deep breath as the human smiled to him and mouthed the words thank you to him.
...*...*...*...*...
Jethro stood to one side a few minutes later as medics cleaned the doctors up. He'd gotten his gear from the bemused polar bear and was now dressed once more. “They say doctors make the worst patients,” Doctor Martel murmured as Thornby tried to see the tablet the medics were using to view her test results.
Jethro snorted. The amusement however died as Lieutenant JG Teague and first Lieutenant Myers arrived on the scene. Teague seemed interested in the goings on, but Myers seemed pissed. The panther gulped as the Marine officer looked around and then put her hands on her hips.
“I suppose you're proud of yourself?” she demanded, eyeing the panther.
Jethro just stood there at attention.
“If he isn't I am. Good work Corporal,” Commander Thornby said. Myers glanced her way. Thornby turned to her. “The lad saved my wrinkled ass. I'm grateful,” she said.
“Commander Thornby...” Myers sighed.
Thornby held up her hands. “Yeah yeah, your domain. I get it. He's a Marine, you're a Marine,” Thornby said, half out loud, half through their shared implant chat.
“Right. He also left his post,” Myers said, glaring at Jethro. “Give me your report,” she said with a sigh. Jethro dumped the report to her through the channel, and then the Commander fumbled with her implants before she did too. Lieutenant Teague looked up as both individuals CC'd a copy to her. She nodded her thanks and then went back to talking with the big brute who was blubbering like a baby about not wanting to go to jail.
Lieutenant Myers stood their silently, watching the video feed at three times normal speed before she turned an eye on Jethro. The corporal gulped. He was reprimanded by Lieutenant Myers who warned him it could have been a trap.
“They could have drawn you off, then ambushed your partner. That was stupid and reckless corporal, you should have waited for back up. They're professionals, just not well organized.”
Jethro snorted softly.
“Okay, not quite professionals. Amateurs really, stupid ones,” Myers said shaking her head.
One of the men, the one called Richy looked up indignantly. He spat on the deck.
She frowned at him but ignored his disdain. “But even stupid thugs can be dangerous. Did it ever occur to you that they could have killed a hostage?”
“But ma'am, we're guarding an empty room. We've already moved the equipment yesterday evening,” Jethro said loudly. The abductors looked up and groaned.
“You mean, all this for nothing?” The one called Three demanded plaintively, kicking the leader as he clutched at his bandaged arm. The leader hung his head and swore.
“No we haven't,” Thornby murmured over their shared implant chat link.
“Shush ma'am. They don't know that,” Jethro said ingeniously. Myers hid a chuckle.
Lieutenant JG Teague looked up and shot him an approving grin. She knew what he was doing, it would get back to the backers and throw them off until they could get the load moved.
Myers cleared her throat. “You better clear out before the media gets here. We don't want them knowing about you. Dismissed Corporal.”
He came to attention, salu
ted both women, then hustled back to his post.
...*...*...*...*...
Later that evening there was a soft knock on Doctor Thornby's door. She looked up, frowning. She belted her kimono robe tighter and then went to the door. “Who is it?” she asked warily. The entire incident had made her reconsider base housing. Shit like that didn't happen in the Annex or in San Diego. Yup, a nice posting anywhere but here... she shook herself, getting a hold of her fear.
“ADA Winter's ma'am,” a female voice said. Smithy activated her living room LCD to show a mousy woman standing with a briefcase in her hands in front of her. The young brown haired human woman looked at the camera innocently. She had a brown power suit on, complete with a knee length pencil skirt. She looked tired, but still professional.
“Is she legit?” Thornby asked through her implants, sending the chat request to Smithy.
“She is indeed,” the AI responded. “Jumpy?” The AI asked.
“Just a bit paranoid. And for good reason. Thanks,” the doctor replied, closing the chat.
“Winters,” Thornby said, signaling the door to open. “Aren't you out past your bedtime?” she asked, smiling to take the age sting out of her astringent comment.
“Needs must ma'am, It's best to get the interview over with now while it's fresh,” Winters said, coming in. She glanced around the sparsely appointed apartment. The walls were covered in paintings, there was a wall screen, some modern style furniture, and a pair of doors leading to other rooms. “Quaint. I would have thought you would have had more than this ma'am,” she said pulling a camera drone out of her satchel and letting it loose. It bobbed and then a laser scanned the room.
Thornby felt the scan and sighed. “Do we have to do this now?” she demanded. “I mean right now? Right this second?”
“It's important ma'am.”
“Don't you have enough from Smithy's recording and mine? Did Martel have her's on?”
“Um, I didn't know you were recording,” the Assistant District Attorney admitted.
“Did Roland send you?” Thornby asked warily.
That got the ladies attention. She looked up, eyes flashing. “I'll have you know ma'am, Mister Roland represents the interests of the station in matters of law. The station itself when it comes to liability either civil or criminal. The district attorney's office doesn't fall under his umbrella. No matter how much he'd like it too,” she said as an aside.
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