This is a CADMUS facility. Its colloquial name is the Grey Zoo.
At the front gate, a mid-size car stops. CADMUS guards abandon the shack and inspect the car.
Aloft, the Indigo Beetle flies a patrol. He's the host of a robotic scarab, which was once made by an alien race known as the Reach. He's not loyal to them, though; and neither is the scarab. This is good; the latest military intelligence speculates that the Reach doesn't have friendly plans for Earth.
Below, the car makes it through security. It parks near the facility's facade.
A car door opens. From it, a woman's leg emerges. She's in pumps.
Meet Dr. Scully. Her ginger bob-like hair has caught many a gaze. She's no succubus, though; just a simple MD with connections to the FBI, DEA, and DEO.
From above, the Indigo Beetle descends. He falls in-step alongside the Doctor, and escorts her through the front entrance of the facility.
In here, there are prison cells. Each one contains a specific alien specimen. Their doors are marked as such. It will soon become clear that they don't call this facility the Grey Zoo for nothing.
This cell door is marked with the word PROTOSS. Whoever's in here hails from the planet Aiur in the Koprulu Sector of Andromeda. They might also, too, be time-travelers from the future.
This cell door is marked with the words SERAN LOCUST. Whoever's in here is from the Hollow of the planet Sera.
This cell door is marked with the word BORG. This specimen might've been picked up from Deep Space Nine... This seems unlikely, though; most of the racist bureaucrats who run CADMUS would rather be tortured by Darkseid, DeSaad, and Granny Goodness than ever visit Deep Space Nine.
This cell door is marked with the words ZULIAN MALETARIAN. Whoever's in here is wight-like and has done time in the Phantom Zone. Hence, this cell door might as well be a portal to the same...
This cell door is marked with the word VYRGAN. Whoever's in here is a jungle insectoid, and from the planet Vyrga.
This cell door is marked with the compound word THOUGHT-BEAST. Lex Luthor, rumor has it, really loves this cell; the creature in it is from Krypton.
This cell door is marked with the word PUMICEFELLOW. Whoever's in here is of the planet Stoneworld.
This cell door is marked with the suffix-appended word MARTIAN-1938. Whoever lives in here isn't just an alien; he's an octopus-like alien from another reality, Mars-1938.
This cell door is marked with the words SPACE DOLPHIN. His race might or might not have coined the phrase, "So long, and thanks for all the fish."
This cell door is marked with the word D'RAHN.
This cell door is marked with the word CHANGRALYNIAN. Whoever's in here is from the planet Changralyn. He ought to team up with the antihero Peacemaker sometime...if only CADMUS would stop hating him too much to let him go.
This cell door is marked with the word BRANX. Whoever's in here hails from the planet Emana Branx.
This cell door is marked with the word ASTUR. Whoever's in here is from the planet Astur. In 1951, his race once attempted to terraform Earth. He and the Kryptonian Worldkillers should have a beer sometime...or better yet, a witch's brew.
This cell door is marked with the word PARADOOM. Whoever lives in here is from the ecumenopolis (i.e. planet and megacity in one) Apokolips.
This cell door is marked with the compound word PARA-ANGEL. Whoever lives in here hails from the Ghost Sector of the universe. Azrael, the Christian angel of death, has to do with their upbringing.
Down the halls, there are medical labs. Here, experiments are done.
In such a lab, they've got a Kryptonian thought-beast in chains. She looks very similar to a Triceratops of Earth's Cretaceous period. These, though, are telepathic.
Through a door, Dr. Scully enters. She's in white. Her hands have been washed...and they're dressed in Latex.
Still in chains, the thought-beast thrashes. Much, she bellows. Loudly, she bellows. One would think that if a beast was already telepathic, she'd have no need to make vocalizations...
Dr. Scully's overwhelmed by the beast's presence. It looks very unfamiliar to her. As old as she is, she thinks she'd know if it actually existed...
With bellows, a robot inoculates the thought-beast with a sedative. Before long, the thought-beast has passed out. Not for a while, will she bellow. Not for a while, will she blink.
Before her, though, Dr. Scully still gapes. "What," she half-stammers, half-shouts, "is that thing?! How have I never heard of it?! How the fuck didn't I learn about it in med school?! Or the Discovery Channel, or something?!"
HOPE, an AI, runs the medical labs. She addresses the Doctor's concerns, via the rooms' surround-sound system.
"On its native planet," HOPE elaborates, "they call this creature a thought-beast. Conscious, it's telepathic. Under Earth's yellow sun, it has many other powers...including supernatural strength and flight. For the time being, though, this cow requires medical treatment...and Dr. Veritas is in Alaska on DEO business, at present."
Confused, Dr. Scully only gapes, and shakes her head. "What...the fuck are you talking about?! Who are you?! What is this place?!" She looks around. "Am I on drugs?! What did you put in me when I came in here?!"
"Can you do the operation, Dr. Scully," the AI asks, "or must I call upon the next MD? If I recall correctly, I do believe you attended Stanford with many other female students. I do believe, in fact, that they slept with some of your ex-boyfriends, while you were still there. I'm sure they'd kill for a chance, such as this, to treat an alien beast. Let's see, here..."
"WAIT," Dr. Scully half-shouts. She sighs, pulls some of the latex away from her wrist, and releases it. It makes a minor slapping noise, while doing so. "Very well," she finally says. She scoffs and shakes her head. "Mulder's going to have his ass in my face for this, but..." She addresses the AI. "Never mind. What are we up against, and could you please try to describe it in a way that helps it match up with human anatomy? I took a few vet classes at Stanford, but none of them were in operating on alien mastodons."
Nearby, there's a table. A lot of sterilized nano-cutlery lies atop a white sheet atop of it. Some of it is Kherubim tech...and hence, alien-approved. Some of it is Valley tech...and is branded with an Azrael/angel of death symbol. Some of it is Sato tech...and is branded with the symbol of Capt. Atom. Some of it is Korugaran tech...and is also alien-approved. Some of it is Ungaran tech...and is also alien-approved. Some of the Korugaran and Ungaran tech has blades that are made of yellow beryl, or yellow topaz... Some of it is Tamaranean tech; it, too, is alien-approved. Some of it is Grace tech. Some of it is Caulder tech. Either way, Dr. Scully is no stranger to most of it...although she probably deserves to be a stranger to the Kherubim, Korugaran, Ungaran, and Tamaranean tech.
Holograms soon surround the Doctor's workplace. They portray the thought-beast's issues. Whenever opportune, they simulate options, as far as how Dr. Scully could complete the work.
Before long, she's cut a hole in the thought-beast's lower leg. She's added Tamaranean herbs, to stop the bleeding. She never worked with such herbs in med school; the holograms recommended it, and she went along with it. She might as well. She knows that a certain FBI agent is going to mock her, if he ever learns that she did surgery on an alien beast.
For the time being, she has nothing to worry about, though. Mulder is currently in Jarhanpur, as a voluntary member of the Suicide Squad. He does not have Scully's pity, though, for wanting to do such a dangerous job among such semi-reputable company...even if some of them are real-live aliens. Scully imagines that he's so happy, getting to work with legendary devils and monsters such as Parasite, Max Lord, Black Hand, Dr. Polaris, Bloodsport, Zod, Lobo, Cyborg, Match, Son of Saturn, Steel, and Dubbilex... Not that Scully's jealous, or anything... But then, she might not know to be. She might not even know that all of those men are either alien or getting their powers from alien tech...
Within the thought-beast's surgery hole, there's a shard. It looks like a glowing gem...but it's hard to tell. It's...some sort of radioactive peridot...
"Not to worry," HOPE assures Dr. Scully. "The element is radioactive; but you will not be leaving this facility with tentacles...or anything less natural that what your current assets happen to be."
At this, Dr. Scully only shakes her head and scoffs. "One day, I'm going to have you simplified..."
"I am an AI. 'Simplified' has nothing to do with how I'm made...or even how I work. I can simplify great amounts of text for a lesser-minded reader, but..."
"If you don't mind," Scully interrupts, "this labor isn't as easy as it looks. So, if you don't have to distract me, not doing so would be of great courtesy."
"Of course, Doctor. Please finish your work."
With tweezers, the Doctor removes the peridot shard. The thought-beast should be thankful to be unconscious, about now; if he were awake, he'd be acting eccentric...if he wouldn't be hurting all over. Dr. Scully is holding a shard of lime green kryptonite. Kryptonians have been known to get high on the substance; kind of like a Kryptonian cannabis...only it's a mineral, rather than a veggie.
Into a small case, Dr. Scully sets the shard down. In her blindness, the case is soon animated, and becomes a nanite. It encloses the shard inside itself. Next, it sprouts bug-like robotic legs, and creeps away from Dr. Scully's workspace. Good thing that nanite isn't one of Larvan's... It'd be better off being one of Choi's.
Not all of these holograms portray Dr. Scully's workspace; nor do they all recommend means of procedure for her. Some, in fact, portray whatever the thought-beast dreams of, as he's unconscious. This is made possible, no doubt, by Hawkins tech.
This thought-beast, it seems, soon dreams of a male of her species, back on Krypton. He bellows, shakes his horns and frill, and attempts to do battle with a much bigger, much scarier dragon-like creature; also native to Krypton.
The dream, it seems, is experienced through some sort of lime-green fog... It's the same shade of lime-green, it seems, that that shard of lime-green kryptonite exhibits... It's hard to tell, though, if this is by chance, or if the kryptonite shard has affected this thought-beast even more than Dr. Veritas would think...if only she was here to be consulted.
Soon, alas, one of the thought-beast's eyes cracks open. Her eye still rolls around... Either way, she's not nearly as asleep as she's been.
Nonetheless, Dr. Scully, ignorant of the beast's waking, begins wrapping up her work. She's treated the injury; now it's time to patch it up, best she can...and best she knows how. She can't guarantee, though, that she'd do the best of work. She's just as used to working on aliens, after all, as she is to believing in them at all.
Soon, alas, Dr. Scully starts to fatigue. Her mind suddenly feels very weak. She wouldn't believe that her patient is trying to use her psionic powers to sedate her.
Finally, she falls over, and faints. Some of her tools roll across the floor. The one she was using until now, it seems, was an alien Kherubim gadget...
With her regenerative healing factor, Dr. Scully's patient finishes her doctor's work for her. Before long, one couldn't tell that anyone ever did medicine on her.
One surface at a time, HOPE uses robotics to clean up the workspace. The holograms soon vanish. On the floor, Dr. Scully still snoozes. She won't remember much, when she wakes. In fact, there are many here who're counting on it. This might include HOPE, as well...