Stump://

Chapter 3

"He's movin'! Holy, crap, he's still alive!"

"Bast--."

"Don't try to talk, Stump. You've taken a pretty nasty hit."

"What kind a lowlife uses solid projectiles on a Station? Could'a been a lot worse."

Some shapes began to resolve in Stump's eyes. Thank goodness for that, he thought.

"Mu- Mist--" Stump was getting frustrated. Every thought he formed was getting lost in that insane jumble in his head. He felt as though his own brain was rebelling against him. He tried to stand again. This time he managed more than twitching and moaning. But he still ended up on his back.

"Kate, Where's Mr. Gar--" Too much work. Forcing his head to string three words together proved, well, enlightening. For example, Stump now knew how bad his head could feel, and still not explode into a mess that would take weeks to clean. Stump also discovered that one could pass out just from pain.

**

"Where am I?"

"Well, good. You're up."

It was good to hear a familiar voice when coming out of a coma. Stump felt as though he had slept a millennium away, and yet he also felt as though if he tried to move, he'd hurt himself.

Opting to lie still a while longer, Stump decided to interrogate Kate. She must have stayed by his bed all night, sweet things, but she would also stay up all night with him if he wanted. She didn't sleep, after all. Give her a wall socket fro a few minutes, and she's good.

"Katie," He was the only person allowed to call her that. "What happened?"

"Well, as near as Security can tell, during the shoot-out, someone came up behind you and hit you with a pan. He must have had an accomplice in the kitchen watching his back."

"That explains why I didn't see him down the hall." Stump reached his hand up to his head. He was feeling surprisingly good, except for the dull throb of pressure on the crown of his head. He felt the bandages, and inspected them by touch to see how tight they were.

Kate exited her reclining chair like a pilot leaving the cockpit, and with deft accuracy and gentleness grabbed Stump's wrist and moved his hand down from his head.

"Leave it alone, or it'll come undone." Stump always complained when she went into mother mode, but he kind of enjoyed it, secretly. He fought a little, but complied.

"Doctors say when I can leave?" Stump asked, hopeful. He knew he needed the rest, but he also knew he had a client to take care of.

"Kate could read him like a tabloid, however, and knew his real concern. "Mr. Garrity and all his holdings are fine. When your fire-fight started, internal sensors alerted security. They sent one team to the hot-zone, where you were, and two units covered all airlocks. He was found trying to commandeer an escape vessel, while his accomplice was apprehended trying to steal a corporate craft.

"You've been out of it for two days. Turns out, that Leonard Bigby, a.k.a. John Bigby, a.k.a. Bomb Bigby, was contracted to kill Mr. Garrity. He confessed when he realized that he was going to be here longer than his timer was set for. They've secured and neutralized the bomb. All's Well."

"Any word on who contracted Bigby?" Stump desperately wanted to sleep again, but he wanted this completely cleared up even more. If there was a way to stay on Mr. Garrity's payroll, he wanted it. Mr. Garrity had deep pockets, and no idea how much "business expenses" were for a bounty hunter. Stump had managed to milk him during the week he had set up security for the party, but if there was still a threat out there, he could stay in comfy-land for months.

"Afraid not, but not too long after Bigby and his friend were taken into custody, some high powered lawyer from inner-system showed up and posted bail. They're both history by now." Kate was beginning to let her emotions get involved, Stump could tell.

She was always a rotten liar for the same reason. When her emotions ran high, her voice would go all digital. It annoyed her when Stump called her on it, so he let it slide this time. Kate was far too valuable as company to risk chasing her off with some stupid remark. Stump was starting to feel as though he would slip off to sleep without warning, and he wanted Kate to stay.

He started to pick at his dressings, again.