She hadn't thought that their stories might amount to anything other then child-style gossip, not until she'd seen Fantredala herself... and only then, it had taken a long time before she could piece together what the black and red, phantom-like creature was doing, and where she'd come from.

Not only was Svar strong in mind and body, but she was very strong in will--a trait that often won her the title of 'bull-headed' or 'stubborn as all hell'. She chose to think of it as a kind of heroic perseverance... whatever it was, it had led her to discovering the balance Daemon's location--and her superior.

Svar had heard stories of Dr. Schroeder before. 'The mad genius who escaped Dynasty clutches', or 'the cowardly scientist who wouldn't lend a hand for the cause' or 'the genetic engineer who was driven away before he could lend a hand for the rebels' cause'... none of which she was sure were very accurate. All of them had something in common, at least. The good Dr. had left Star City for quite some time... and now he was back with a big bang.

It really wasn't long before she'd gotten swamped with information about the Doctor's little project... and it was too easy to get sidetracked with the details. Svar had been interested in bonding for a long time, but the upkeep of a dragonet was a tremendous task that she just didn't think she could handle, along with her time-consuming job and extracurricular duties. She'd picked up Hellim, her little Rukel, instead, and had been contented with his cat-like witticism's and downfalls. But a clutch in which every last dragonet was likely to be as (if not more-so?) gold-hearted as she felt would be necessary... well, that seemed like something else entirely.

Her investigations, naturally, led her to the hatching bay in which the dragonets were being kept. Crunching over the hard, brittle, black surface of resin, she'd approached the Dysiniu on guard and, while her words had not been quite as heated as Minister Four's, Svar had asked many of the same questions! Of course... she wasn't one to be distracted from her original task, so she asked about Fantredala, as well, and Sahurru, the wraith, simply directed her to Dr. Schroeder's docked ship, the Abstract Destiny.

So here Svar found herself, entering the Doctor's ship and wondering if she should try either hangar... but no, there was a rather smaller door ahead, and while it was locked, there was a buzzer, and she activated it. "Excuse me," she demanded, her voice not quite curt, "I'm here to see Doctor Schroeder, please." She released the mechanism and rested her gold-nailed hand on her slightly askew hips, waiting for a reply.

It was only a few moments before a little viewscreen flickered into life, right above the button Svar'd pressed. On it, there was a little image of a man--probably a guard--who looked as if he was just looking for something to do. Svar was sure he could see her as well, considering a little camera eye had appeared in the corner of the video transmission. When he spoke, his voice was as clear as if it was in person, and he said, pleasantly, "could you please state your name and reason for your visit?"

"Sure. I'm Svar, from up at the Children's Stollery, and I'm hear because I'd like to lodge a complaint." She frowned lightly, her other hand rising to her other hip in an "I'm not going to take any crap!" posture.

"A complaint?" the door-guard asked, blinking as if in disbelief. "Please, come in, I'll call the Doctor right away." Svar gave a nod that was both an acknowledgment and an acceptance, and slipped through the doors as they whirred open. The hallway wasn't a very long one, and presently she found herself looking from a row of padded chairs ranged along one wall, and the door-guard's booth set up against the other. "Please, come in and take a seat," he called, standing up behind the half-wall that separated the booth from the opposite wall. Svar looked from him to the chairs, repressing a sigh as she took to one of the faintly uncomfortable chairs. She watched as the guard went back to the intercom, unable to repress an urge to eavesdrop.

"Doctor Schroeder?" the man asked, his head bowed away from Svar's line of sight. Ears perked, she could just barely make out a few voices falling silent, and then what she could assume was the Doctor's voice, replying. The guard continued, "this is Kenton, down at the door. A visitor is here to see you. A Ms. Svar, from the Children's Stollery, says she has a complaint to lodge with you."

Svar grinned grimly, listening to the response. There were a few background murmurs, but Schroeder's voice clearly asked, "a complaint? Oh dear. What's wrong?"

The door-guard, Kenton, looked up at Svar, (who had quickly reformed her eavesdropping-face into a righteously indignant one), and nodded to indicate that she could answer and be heard.

Svar cleared her throat and spoke up, "in regards to one of your employees, Doctor," she began, "I've been doing night-shifts at the hospital and couldn't help but having noticed one of your employees, one Fantredala I believe her name might be, skulking about the critical care ward! By this point there are rumors about her being everything from the bogeyman to bed-monsters to Death itself running around the hospital, which has been upsetting the children, obviously. I'd appreciate if you would reign your employee's extracurricular habits in, please."

Before the Doctor could respond, a female's laugh and exclamation of "Employee! Hah! Death indeed..." came across the intercom. Svar watched the guard blush even as she listened to the Doctor shushing the third voice. "Devika, hush," said he, followed by, "Critical care ward, you say? Oh heavens,then I know exactly--but here, I hate having to converse across this intercom, it's so impersonal. If you'll just give me a few minutes, Ms. Svar, I'll be down right away."

It wasn't quite 'right away'... rather, several minutes, but eventually Schroeder did show up, a tall, grey, dragon-like anthropomorph following quietly behind him.

Svar stood again, extending a hand to be shaken as the Doctor came closer. "Here I am, here I am!" he exclaimed, waving his own hand at the guard to return to his tasks. He focused on Svar, then, and grabbed her preferred hand in both of his, shaking it warmly. "I'm terribly sorry, Ms. Svar. Fantredala isn't actually an employee of mine, I'm afraid--more of a tagalong to my crew, but that's a long story--but I'll have to talk with ehr as soon as possible. I know exactly why she would be lurking around your facility, and I'm terribly sorry she's distressed your children so. I love children, you know, and hate to think that Fantre's been frightening them."

The woman couldn't help but look on in surprise as Schroeder went on. For some reason she hadn't pictured him as... this grandfatherly, even if most of the rumors she'd heard had never really said otherwise. She also couldn't help but warm to him a little, despite her best efforts to remain stern-looking. (The latter was made somewhat easier, being a couple of inches taller then him!) She finally apologized. "I'm sorry, I must have gotten my sources wrong about her. I haven't seen her inflicting any harm, per say, but it seems like she's been... around... when a child's passed away. It's nerve-wracking, obviously." She frowned and added, "please, do talk with her. I've never been able to catch her." If she had been able to, it may not have been simply words that the woman dealt her!

There was a moment of quiet, and the Doctor replied, "well, ah, yes, I'm sure your sources are right, actually." He clasped his hands together, looking embarrassed. "Fantre', you see, has a most unusual... diet."

Svar, immediately alarmed, interrupted. "What?"

Schroeder continued on, "now you don't need to go telling your children this, I fear it'd only upset them more, but it seems to me you have a right to know."

"A right to know what?" Svar asked, feeling even more alarmed.

"Fantre' is a hybrid of such a sort," the Doctor explained, "that she doesn't eat solid food and drink like you and me. She consumes--or perhaps she absorbs is a better word--what are most easily described as 'death-energies.'" Svar stared at him in blank horror, her imagination supplying any number of macabre situations to suit the term. Schroeder, however, wasn't finished yet. "That is, when someone dies--such as one of your poor children, bless their souls--it gives off a kind of energy release, and it is this thing that Fantre' 'eats'. It's a very passive thing," he hurried to explain, as Svar's imagination spun dangerously close to a loss of control, "She doesn't kill, herself, but, yes, she is drawn to places where death is eminent. It's just her nature."

There was another pause as Svar took this all in and managed to calm down a little. When she found words to say, they slipped out of her mouth without a second thought. "I don't care if it's her nature, I don't like it at all. Kids don't need to die knowing that some scary beast is looming over them, whether or not she's planning to eat their brains or to feed on their souls!" She crossed her arms, upset all over again. She glared over the Doctor's shoulder (the other one from that which that anthropomorph hovered behind), and sorted out her thoughts. "I suppose you have no control over her actions, then, but tell her that if I see her again, I'll be happy to remove her from the Stollery's premises myself."

Schroeder cringed, but that didn't stop the words that escaped him next. "I rather doubt you could, actually, being that she's half spirit and all... but nevermind that." He waved his hands in the air like birds trying to fly away. "I said I'd talk to her, and I will, I promise you that. She'll listen to me." The last words were said assuredly and with confidence, but then a slightly pleading look returned to his face, as if jumping from grandfather to grandchild all in a moment. Svar had a hard time remaining upset at him, especially with what he said next! "I don't suppose there's anything I could do to make it up to the children?" he asked. "I love children, did I say that? Could I donate some toys, or bring some little pets for them to play with, or anything?"

"What?" Svar asked again, this time less taken aback then simply surprised. She wasn't about to turn down an offer like that... however, she didn't want to accept his offers if they were only a bribe! She eyed him as she thought it over, then finally said, "there's to be a festival of teddies--stuffed animals--coming up shortly, Doctor, which can always use more contributions..." a grin finally quirked at her lips. She wasn't quite mollifed, but she had the image of the man dressed up in a giant bear suit (which was surprisingly easy, considering his chosen profession), and couldn't help but smile.

True to form, the Doctor's eyes brightened like little blue lights in their nest of wrinkles. "Is that so! How precious, that's perfect! Valentine," he turned towards his draconic shadow with a twiddling of his fingers, as if writing a note in the air, "help me remember that. The Festival of Teddies at the Children's Stollery. Don't let me forget it." Svar watch the draconic anthropomorph as he nodded wordlessly--the first movement she'd seen out of him since they'd arrived, and managed to catch him smiling, if only a little. Schroder retunrned his attention on her, then. "I would be happy to pull something together for your children." He was beaming, now.

"I'll relay the message on," Svar replied, any heat of anger that was still in her system finally settling down again. "Speaking of throwing things together," she added, a thought that had been bubbling at the back of her mind rising to the surface, "I've heard that you were behind that rather abruptly... well, not laid clutch, up in the public hatching bays. What's that all about, if I may ask?" There was a spark of almost eager curiosity in her eyes, bridled only by a will to keep professional. She waited a moment as the Doctor blinked, obviously taken off guard by the switch in topic... but once his mind caught up to the subject, the little man practically glowed with pleasure.

"Oh yes, my little children. Yes, yes, they're all me. Have you dropped by and spoken with them? They do love talking to people outside their shells, as long as you're not interrupting one fo the stories they get Sahurru to read to them."

Svar shook her head, no. Well, she had been to the bay, but at the time she'd been more concerned with getting directions from the wraith on guard to realize that the dragonets could hear and speak with her!

"My little Genesis clutch," the Doctor said, folding his arms behind his back, "my little Venators... I used to gengineer creatures for Star City all the time, before the revolution, you know. I unfortunately had to, hm, make myself scarce when the troubles rose up, but now that things have settled again, I'm back to pick up my old habits."

"Hmm," Svar replied with, having not a thing to reply with. So some of the rumors were true, though which, she still wasn't certain. "I suppose the results of your 'old habits'," she said, her voice a mixture of friendly mocking and contained curiosity, "are looking for bonds, then.... and your friend was telling me about the qualifications of potential candidates..." She gave him a somewhat hopeful look.

Schroeder had completely warmed to the subject, childlike in his enthusiasm for his project and the fact someone had dropped by showing interest-- nevermind that Svar had initially come to complain! "Well, you know about those xenodragon creatures, don't you? And the kinds of people that show up for those clutches, generally? Well, if you flip-flop that standard"-- here he even illustrated the idea with a lively motion of his hands that suggested he was in fact turning something invisible upside-down-- "then you get what my little Venators will be looking for. Golden hearts, willingness to pursue justice and liberty and things like that. They like to be read stories of Robin Hood and King Arthur-- that's what Sahurru, their guardian, does to help them pass the time waiting to hatch. You should hear them cheer whenever a 'bad guy' gets his come-uppance!"

"Really," Svar replied, grinning at the Doctor's enthusiasm. "I suppose they're only looking for Security Ministry types, then," she added, lowering a thin brow.

The doctor laughed warmly--it was a laugh that you intrinsically knew wasn't directed at you, more with you, then anything. "Some of them, perhaps, but overall, I don't think so," he replied. "They just want to hatch and go out into the world and do what's right, you see. They're... vigilantes waiting to happen. How was it that I put it... golden hearts and noble causes, yes, that's it. I've been sad to see that all these nasty dragon types going about, you see, the xenodragons and hydras and all of those... so I'm trying to introduce a balancing force to all that, and the children will be looking for bonds of similar intent--or at least posessing sympathy to such intent."

Svar felt that he was giving her a meaningful look, and she mulled over this, thinking very seriously. She might not be a vigilante in her own right, but she was certainly sympathetic to the cause--obviously, if she was going to go to such lengths to track down the cause behind a mysterious, and possibly harmful visitor! Then again, unless she bonded a dragonet who didn't mind working with other species of children, she may regret bonding at all.

She thought about it a little more, her face mirroring her inner thoughts. Finally, she said, "they do sound very interesting, Doctor. Thank you very much for your time... and for dealing with Fantredala for us, and for everything." She reached a hand out to shake again, smiling as he took it in his own double-grip again. "I hope that your clutch is a success, then," said she.

Schroeder pumped her arm with even more enthusiasm then before, now that they were parting on friendly terms. "The pleasure is all mine, my dear. And thank you! I'll be off to hunt down a certain naughty dragoness and put together a donation for your organization right away. It was a pleasure to meet you!"

"You're too kind," Svar replied, feeling somewhere between accomplished and embarrassed. She'd certainly have to inform the Stollery of the upcoming contribution... and as for other matters, well... she'd have to think on them some more. She gave a nod to Kenton before turning and striding out of the reception room.

It was only a day later when she made her appearance at the Hatching Ministry. She could have simply signed up remotely, however, she liked to do things in person much better.

Her conclusion had been thus: if she signed up for the hatching, the worst that could happen would be that she wouldn't bond. In that case, she could go back to her job and volunteer hours, and everything would remain relatively the same.
Or she could bond a dragonet, a... what had he called them? A Venator? and in that case, she would either have a partner to continue her job with, or she would take up a more physical occupation. She was doing what she felt was the right thing, after all... even if she were only (hah, 'only') battling time. Now, if a dragonet could do battle with that...

Whatever happened, Svar was sure that it would lead to better things. She smiled at the assistant who passed across pen and pad, and signed at all of the appropriate places.

When she left, that look of determination that was a Svar trademark was on her face, even more solidly then before!