Much to Androw's luck, one of the classier establishments on the planet decided to extend an invitation to the famous doctor to perform the surgery in his quarters. He planned to do it on the ship but much preferred the larger, open room he was presented with. Not to mention, there were hookups all over the floor and walls, should things get crazy and require some extreme operating procedures.

The facility, though not a med-bay, was exquisite. The walls were a soft white color with a cool marble floor with flecks of maroon and gold throughout. Lining the walls were sterile cabins of silver with matching marble tops. There, sprawled out in the center of the room, a long, metal table. The wheels were locked and, based on the excessive amount of holes and hooks in the floor, Androw assumed the room was used for torture. After all, one look at the kind host told Androw the man he was dealing with was likely a mafia thug. Had time not been of the essence, he would have rejected the offer. Unfortunately, such wasn't doable and he had to admit defeat.

"Your kindness is appreciated," he said while shaking the man's hands. They were cold and mangled with scars. There were calluses all over them too.

Inadvertently, Androw's eyes trailed up the man's arms. There was a thick watch--expensive and top-notch. There were also the faintest traces of bleached out blood on his white cuffs.

Not wanting to alarm the man by the name of Doug Phyolan, Androw carelessly rolled his away to let them fall on his patient.

"Though I must kindly ask for you to leave. Also," his nostrils fairly lightly, "would you happen to have bleach stowed away in this room? I would like to ensure the surfaces are clean."

Phyolan nodded before stiffly walking toward a cupboard. "It's in here," he said with a rich accent.

Of course it was, Androw mused within. The scent of bleach was heavy here. Likely to cover up the grotesque scent of blood. Oh what secrets did this room hold! Androw wanted to find them out but, sadly, he had a more pressing task at hand. Perhaps another time?

As the man with the blood on his sleeves left the room, another entered. He had no need to look to see what entered. From the scuffing that followed the click of stepping, Androw knew a woman had entered. She seemed to be snaking her way toward him, for each time she moved, the nails-on-a-chalkboard sound grew louder. Not to mention, her whorish scent became more and more unbearable.

Really, he chided internally. Was this truly his cruel fate? To be sought out by all women? Were fame and money all that drove these poor, individual souls?

Her nails danced across his back. A second later, a pair of lips were nipping at his ears. Soon, her voice called out to him.

Honestly, it was worse than the heels dragging across the marble sound.

"Sugar," her rear moved onto the counter top before him. "How about we work the nervous out of your system before you begin." Her nails, long and cat-like, fiddled with his blue fringe. "I could show you a real good time."

Finally engaging her eyes, Androw caught her hand inch toward his wallet. Was she really trying to steal from him right now?

Most would react by seizing her hand. But Androw? Heh, he had more tact than that.

Stepping away, he gingerly rose his hands into the air. "Afraid I don't know what you mean when you say nerves." With a quick glance over his shoulder, he caught her frown. "I've been doing this longer than you've been a virgin." A coy smirk tugged at his lips. "And, quite frankly, I would rather inject myself with a known STD than take that risk with you."

Tact.

Her snort came before the sound of her heels clicking feverishly across the floor. Next came the hallow swack of an open palm over a cheek.

"The nerve," she huffed before exiting the room like it was no body's business.

Cheek aglow from the slap, he shook his head just in time to catch Tasi cock a brow.

"How did you know she was a whore?"

"That dress was all she wore, hun." His orbs locked with hers. A smirk followed.

Tasi, bewitched by whatever magic Androw seemed to have, leaned into him. "But how?"

"Smell, my love. Smell." He tapped his nose lightly before moving back toward the ice-cold body of the boy.

"How are things looking," he spoke nonchalantly to Issa and Nathan. Tasi's task was simple, clean the room. She had only just begun but was making quick work of it. When done, she would leave and entertain the mother. There was no need to keep a mother pacing outside the door. If anything, she would piss Androw off--and he couldn't have that!

Nathan's task was equally easy. He had to sterilize all his tools and lay them out on the two carts Phyolan provided. Androw explained which tools went wear so Nathan didn't need to know more about them. Androw was also kind enough to give Nathan a quick rundown, namely because Nathan would be his aid for most of this. He would be the tool runner. He was also to keep eye of the monitors and alert Androw to any dips or drops in numbers or charts.

Now Issa, she received probably the hardest of jobs. She was literally going to be the one to hold the tools that would hold the chest cavity open. It required the utmost patience and rigor for one move or twitch could cause the whole ordeal to be undone. It wasn't that he didn't trust Nathan with this. No, that was hardly it. He honestly just wanted Nathan to be at his hip for if the boy stopped breathing, Nathan would have to run the crash cart over to him. And, as it wasn't a medical, standard issue one, it weighed nearly a ton.

The three of them were donned from head to toe in white. Well, almost. Androw's outfit did have hints of cyan in it. His hair cap the same color as his hair, as well as the bright cyan gloves that clung to his fingers.

"Thank you," he nodded to Tasi as she stepped out of the room.

"Nathan," he tugged up his mask, "would you mind getting the grandfather. I put him in the room next door."

With Nathan gone for a moment, Androw turned his attention to the boy. He still still unconscious but would begin to awaken if the anesthetic wasn't applied.

He circled around the table, lightly--and accidentally--brushing his hand on Issa's thigh. Honestly, he had no idea he had done it but, Tasi and the mother, were all a jitter in the hallway. There was a window they had opened to witness the event. Granted, with the simple flipping of a switch, the 2-way mirror could become a one-way mirror.

"So are those two," the mother began, "together?"

"I don't think so." Her brows knit together. "They only just met. Though," she plopped her chin on her palm, "I do like this thought."

As Nathan walked by, both girls zipped their lips. When he vanished, they returned to their romantic chats.

"What about him?"

"What about him?" Tasi asked with a question.

"I'm just saying," the mother began, "he is quite handsome. Wouldn't mind seeing him as a stripper."

Her cheeks burned a bright red. "A-a-a... yeah." Pulling her hair over her ears, she adverted her gaze. "I'm sure he would look dreamy with his shirt off."

"Girlfriend," the mother began, "he would look dreamy with his pants off."

Could her face get any redder, Tasi wasn't sure. The ideas were just swimming in her head. Although the mother likely thought it was over Nathan, it was in fact over this whole idea of Issa and Androw.

Swooning at the idea of star-crossed lovers (suspect turned lover), Tasi nearly melted. As much as she wanted to ruffle the sheets with Androw, she decided her efforts would now have to be toward putting Issa and Androw together. They were perfect for each other. Perfectly imperfect.

Smile on her face, she turned her attention back to the mother.

"Ah yes, Nathan is very handsome." She smoothed out her excitement about the new Androw/Issa 'ship' she had crafted. "You should see him carry a gun. Ommpff! Dem arms."

The mother was now trying to picture Nathan's arms at work. With a faint gasp, she nodded. "Yes, I can just imagine how buff that boy is."

"Buff," Tasi rolled her eyes with making a buzzing noise, "he's not buff. He's the real deal. All meaty muscle underneath that stoic stare."

"Oh," the mother's lip rolled. "Is his personality dry?"

"Hardly," she smiled sweetly. "He's a gem. Always helping carry the heavy stuff. He also holds doors open for me. He's a sweetheart through and through."

"Think a woman like me has a chance with a man like him?"

Tasi blinked. "I'm not sure. I... I don't actually know his type. I honestly thought he and Issa would be a thing. They're always together. But," she pressed her lips together, "I don't know. They have a very boss-obedient soldier kind of rhythm. Not sure I could see them sharing kisses beneath the stars."

"Good." Her comment was curt and came out of nowhere. At it, Tasi's brows hiked up. "That lovely woman in there needs a man who isn't going to be bossed around. Someone who doesn't see her as a superior, but as a woman worth loving. I'm sure he would die for her, but it would be a dry, pointless death. That woman needs a man who would, time and time again, do something reckless just to show her he cares. Someone who will just grab her face and force her into a kiss."

"Sounds steamy," Tasi said with a sparkle in her eyes. "But do men like that exist?"

"You saw how the handsome doctor put that whore in her place."

"And I think I'm done listening to the soap opera outside," Androw said while pinching his nose. "Don't worry, Captain, I won't be forcing you into a kiss. Done that love thing. Didn't work out well for my last one."

Engaging a button, the speaker shut off and the ideal chatter from the women outside no longer echoed throughout the room.

"Now," he gingerly finished hooking up the breathing apparatus on the grandfather, "without further interruptions, let's begin."

With IV, catheter, and anesthetics in place, Androw cracks his knuckles. He quickly picks up some antiseptic pads and brings to rub over the chest cavity of the boy. He then does the same over the grandfather.

Pulling out a black marker, he draws several lies from the Adam's apple down to just above the navel. Although he's done the surgery a few times, he always marks out his cutting area just to be certain he doesn't mess anything up.

He signals to Nathan to close the mirror as things are about to get bloody.

Glancing at a clock, he squints his eyes. 2.5-hours. He looks over at the grandfather then back at the boy. What were the odds the heart would arrive in under 3-hours?

With the mask covering his facial expressions, he frowns. This isn't ideal. If he stalls out the procedure and the heart doesn't arrive, the boy will die. If he does the procedure, killing the grandfather, and the heart does arrive, he just murdered a man for no reason.

Oh who was he kidding. The process of dividing the sternum, shoving in the tubes, and diverting his blood into a cardiopulmonary bypass machine would take up a good chunk of time.

Still.

"I'll prepare the boy first. With any luck, I won't need to cut the grandfather open." He rolled his sleeves up and began to lean over the boy.

"Hey, Bryan," his gloved hands gently caressed the boy's little face. "My name is Androw and I'll be with you the whole time. If you get scared, just push the button in your hands. My friends, Nathan and Issa, will help take good care of you."

Although the boy was out cold, his body seemed to relax. Although unable to speak, the boy could still hear (to an extent) what was happening. He could also feel Androw's soft gloves, which seemed to lower his heart rate.

Smiling beneath the mask, his gaze rolled over to Nathan. "I'm going to need--"

---

The procedure went smoothly. Although he didn't have an anesthesiologist, Nathan did a divine job keep tabs on the monitor. Whenever he saw a spike or noticed the numbers changed, he would alert Androw who would, in turn, correct the matter.

After making the incision on the boy's chest, he divided the breastbone in half with his operating instrument. With the bone divided, the heart became visible.

Next came the series of tubes, each inserted into the chest so that he could pump the blood through a cardiopulmonary bypass. Essentially a heart-lung machine. Once the blood had been rerouted down the new path, he would begin to cut out the old, damaged heart.

Much to Androw's pleasure, the transplant arrived in the nick of time, allowing him to keep the grandfather alive.

Sweat marred his brows, but he gingerly took the box. The transporter nearly fainted at the bloody mess in the room, but Tasi came in to aid. Granted, she too wasn't overly fond of what she saw. Still, she was able to escort the man out and return to the mother.

"Good news," she wore a warm smile, "the heart arrived in time so your father won't be in heaven tonight."

With the new heart now in his possession, Androw let out a deep sigh. This was followed by the tactful work of sewing in the new heart. Heart in its proper place, he began to reconnect the vessels.

Turning to the bypass machine, he removed the tubes. Shocking the heart will small paddles, he reset the heartbeat and brought back the natural flow of blood through the boy's body.

It took a few shocks but the heart did eventually catch its beat. When it began to pitter-patter, Androw observed it. He assessed the function and made certain there were no leaks.

Rejoining the sternum, he used small wires to keep it sewn together. He then make quick work of the skin, sewing it back up so that the incision was no longer a gaping hole. The surgical staples came into use here.

More tubes were used to drain blood and other fluids away from the heart. These were just temportary until all was well. Dressing were further applied.

And then, finally, Androw stepped away.

Exhaustion in his eyes, he looked over to Issa then to Nathan. "Can you take the grandfather into another room. The boy, Nathan, bring him into the recovery room that I setup down the hall. We'll need to put this tent over him to keep debris off him."

Needing to be in two places at once wasn't ideal. Turning to Issa, who was on her way out, he shouted before moving to her. "He'll be waking up. Stay with him? I'll remain with the boy."

Stepping back, he unlatched the lockers from the table's wheels. "Good to go. I'll catch up in a few."

Peeling the mask from his face, he yanked off the gloves and tossed them in the trash. Next came the gown, which flew off faster than the gloves and mask. Hair net last, he left the room.

"He'll be in recovery for a bit while I sort out the ICU situation. I'll need the boy's full information so please come with me."

---

"Can't believe you managed to pull off the impossible," Dr. Chaklynn said before extending a hand. "Guess your reputation is as impeccable as they say."

"If anything, Captain Serthumon needs the thanks. She was able to make the last minute calls to find me a heart."

"Finding and getting a heart is one thing. Saving a boy's life, solo, is another." He ran a hand through his vibrant military-cut hair. His stern, narrow orange orbs seemed to relax some as he spoke kindly to the other doctor.

"I had a team. A solid one at that. Serthumon, Roscoe, and Radelle all knew their roles and did what was necessary."

"I wish I could have aided you but--"

"It's completely understandable. You had your hands tied." Leaning in, he whispered, "And we need the boy alive. I'm afraid he's a witness for our case."

"I presumed as much. I will keep him under lock-down. No visitors."

"Appreciate it."

"When he wakes up, I'll be sure to signal for you right away."

Another firm handshake followed. Now free of his duties, the cyan-haired man moved over to Issa.

"Dr. Chaklynn is a respectable man. We've nothing to worry about. When the boy wakes, we'll be the first to know. Until then, we should continue on with the case."

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