Private Medic Collar

[Kahlil Noble]

It'd been a long time since Kahlil actively set out to search for someone. Even when he was separated from his now fiance Valery Noble , he'd never truly set out to find her. They had agreed for her to hide from him, just in case his father had taken control. Ironically, it was that same scenario that brought him here. Not that he'd been taken over. But another had. Nida Perl . A.. Sibling? He wasn't too sure if she was literally his sister, but news of her trial and what had happened to her were something that had found his ears at one point. She was like him. A vessel for Darth Carnifex . One that had been taken over, though. And one that had broken free.

Perhaps they weren't exactly the same, their bond to his father, but he wanted to know more. And well, the Alliance wasn't opposed to the idea of putting the two together. Easier to keep track of those who could become an enemy if they were in the same place. She was out of jail now. Probation. Did that make him her probation officer or something? Maybe. Didn't matter, though. He wanted to talk to someone who knew his reality. And if she felt anything like he did, she might too.

So to Maldra IV he went. She wasn't a Jedi any longer, but she was still a medic if the reports were correct. Here to help the returning settlers heal. His ship landed just outside one of those settlements. It wasn't too long for him to find the clinic. A couple questions here and there about a pink doctor had him pointed in that direction. He stepped in, his gaze traveling over the injured and likely other doctors.

"Is there a uh, Nida here?"

 

[Nida Perl]

Like so many worlds in the Outer Rim, Maldra IV had been ravaged by the Bryn'adul war machine. Their hold over a good swath of these territories had vanished overnight, thanks to the individual efforts of the Silver Jedi and Eternal Empire. While freedom from the destructive grip of a warlord was always a good thing, it left many of these worlds defenseless, damaged, and with a severe lack of resources.

Nida had been released from Sunspot prison a short while ago, though her sentence was not over. Thorough intervention from a team of Jedi specialized in the deprogramming of cultists and Dark influence had followed, which saw her confined to another facility. After months of evaluation and therapeutic Light treatments, she was released on probation. Nida had been sure to check in with her handlers at every appointed instance, undergoing supervision by heavily vetted Masters when necessary.

All the while, she was unsure if the path of the Jedi really was for her. Time with the Sith had not shaken her faith, but it was the Jedi themselves. War crimes, sputtering justifications, a lack of action—all issues the Defenders of the Light had come under fire for. Historically, this was nothing new. For Nida, witnessing it with her own eyes made her wonder if the righteous path was really righteous.

She could not turn back time, but she could move forward.

The clinic on Maldra IV was once a home. A small building that had partially collapsed, rebuilt slapdash by hand with limited materials. When Kahlil walked in, Nida was kneeling over a young boy who'd been taken with fever. Careful application of the medicines she'd brought—supplemented with medicinal herbs from Midvinter—had reduced his fever from a critical state. He'd already seized once before his parents had brought him in, and time would tell if there'd be any lasting damage. She placed a small, pink hand to his forehead, feeling the heat radiate from the child's skin. Nida could feel the pulse of his heartbeat, the rush of his blood through veins, the rooted twitch of muscle, the ooze of his pores. The Force had taught her to heighten her senses, to read the body in a deeper way than most physicians could; it was this specific skill that she honed in both the Light and the Dark.

Gentle but unyielding, she willed his rapid heartbeat to stabilize. She did not hear Kahlil ask for her.

Instead, she picked up her head and passively met his gaze, eye to eye.

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Oh.

Kahlil blinked, watching Nida Perl for a moment. Then the child. He was.. Sick? A fever? The larger man was certainly no medic, but he could tell something was drastically wrong. Rather than try to address her again he just stepped over and knelt down. The dyad between him and Valery Noble had started to bring about powers unnatural even to most sensitive to the Force.

Why not put that to use?

Life. Not just closing a wound or removing a sickness. Giving life. To help the child overcome the sickness. The figure let out a sigh as he set his hand on the boy's head, letting the Force act through him. No light, no fancy effects. Just a feeling.

As he pulled his hand away the boy was asleep. Resting. No longer burning up, no longer breathing raggedly. The sickness was simply gone. He smiled, watching the child for a moment longer.

"We have things to talk about."

 

[Nida Perl]

The newcomer knelt down, touching the boy's forehead where Nida's hand had just been. The child's fever abated in a matter of seconds, dissolving like a piece of sugar floss in water. His body was still weak from the illness, but he could rest easier now, at home with this family.

Her hand swept back his sweaty bangs, staring down into the curve of her patient's flushed cheeks. His skin felt cooler now, and for a lingering moment she wondered—if she had not been turned—if she and Thirdas would have had this by now.

They couldn't. Not yet—not until she trusted herself to be around him after what she'd done in the throes of her Dark programming. Her gaze lifted, again to meet the eyes of the silver-haired stranger. He seemed kind, but something inside of her twisted, wondering if he'd been sent by someone who wished her ill. Murdering an Alliance Senator will do that, which was part of the reason Nida was sticking to the fringes for now.

"Who are you?"

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"Kahlil Zambrano. Your brother." There was no beating around the bush with that. Of all the 'special handling' he'd gotten from the Silver Jedi in his youth, he learned to appreciate the rare moment of honesty. No hiding facts that could 'trigger' a change in him like he was a live grenade. Then he stood up. His height was much taller than the average person, but certainly no where compared to the usual for the Zambrano giants. His gaze shifted, looking for other patients.

"I can't do that much, but are there others who need help? We can talk while you work, I don't want to interrupt."

 

[Nida Perl]

Kahlil Zambrano. Your brother.

Somehow, that was what she was afraid of without even knowing he was an option.

Something in her surged—how dare he, a Zambrano, call himself her brother! A Zambrano, the name that had abused and manipulated her, blood ties be damned.

Then, it quieted. It never rose to the surface, never reflected in the passive features of her face or twitched the muscle of her demure form. Nida had only ever let those feeling out when the Dark had corrupted her mind, and emotion had swallowed her. She could not—would not—allow that to happen again.

"We have enough physicians."

Hands both clasped together and covered by the wide sleeves of her plain traveler's garb, she rose as well. Not nearly as tall as this Kahlil Zambrano—Nida had always been slight of build. She craned her neck to meet his gaze; though she did not sense any immediate deception, that did not rule out nefarious intentions.

"There is still work to be done."

Motioning for him to follow her, they moved to the back of the room where a temporary partition had been erected for a storage area. It would provide enough privacy for their conversation while allowing Nida to stay close in the case that she was needed. "Here," She gestured to a pile of cloth bandages, washed and unwound. "Roll them, please."

She went to work sorting medications, nimble fingers using a small blade to split pills, rationing the already scarce dosages.

"Who sent you?"

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

He half expected her to lash out. He would've, if he was in her position. A Child, but not born into the family. Still, he didn't want to lie to Nida Perl . He followed where she lead him, half appreciating the privacy and half expecting this being when she'd lash out. If there was one thing his family taught him, it was they were violent. Very, very violent. His arms still burned from where they'd been severed by another of their siblings.

Thankfully, no such thing. Just busy work. He took up one of the cloths, starting to roll it up as asked.

"The Alliance. The Jedi. Myself. When I learned that you existed, I wanted to see you for myself."

 

[Nida Perl]

The Alliance. The Jedi.

She'd committed crimes against them both. Time served could not make right the life she'd taken, no matter how justified the murder was. Justified murder. Those words rolled around in her head, tumbling like a forbidden phrase. Even Nida called her own passive nature into question after that.

Her hands trembled as she counted the scored pills. Nida's head was tilted down as she worked, threads of violet spilling over her shoulder where they'd escaped the bindings of her hair tie.

"You have seen me. I...have no intention to harm anyone." The reply would've been curt if it hadn't sounded so meek.

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"I don't assume you do." And that was the core of the issue. Neither of them wanted to hurt people, but their father had a hold on them that couldn't be ignored. Denied. He continued to roll up the bandages, setting each roll into one of the containers to store em away for future use. Settlers always needed bandages, in his experience. Between wild animals and looters at least.

Here in the Scar Worlds was no different.

"He marked me too. And when I got rid of the mark, he made a clone of me that nearly killed my fiance." He paused, turning his gaze to Nida Perl . "But I wasn't able to get rid of the mark before I fell to its influence. His influence. It's hard, coming back."

 

[Nida Perl]

The tremble in her hands stilled, only for a moment, and only out of surprise. Nida stared at the tablets on the cutting board, one a neat pile of smooth ovals and the other, a collection of ragged halves. The blade pressed gently into the wooden surface of the board, a conduit for the tension in her body.

Slowly, her head lifted to meet Kahlil's gaze. She sensed no deception—but that didn't mean that there wasn't a ploy at play. The Sith were good at deceit. The ones who survived long enough, anyway.

"He did that to you." It was more of a statement than a question. Maybe even an apology. In brief words, Nida's experience had been identical—with the exception of the clone. That thought frightened her. Did she have a doppelganger somewhere in Sith space?

"It is difficult." She agreed softly. Her hands found their motion once again, slicing pills in two. "Your fiancé…is alright?"

Kahlil Noble

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"She's far stronger than me, so yeah. She's fine. Thankfully." Yeah, that wasn't something he wanted to linger on, not with what he wanted to talk to Nida Perl about. He kept rolling up the linen, tucking them away where they went, keeping his hands busy. Not to think about how helpless he felt knowing she was in danger and not being able to be there. Sort of. "So.. Do you want to be a Jedi again?"