Ocular Debridement

[Farah]

Bastion

-


Sith presence was impossible to ignore on Bastion. To some it may be unsettling, but to Farah is was all she had ever known. The clone had only ever been exposed to the Dark side of the Force since her birth like it was the most natural thing in the galaxy.

By her standard, it was.

She’d yet to encounter the Light or the Jedi who would wield it, but was assured that they walked the wrong path. They were plagued with hubris and intolerance, committing atrocities that were more akin to the Sith. Whatever they may be, Farah paid them little heed. The Sith Empire was strong, expanding rapidly and eating up old Silver Jedi worlds. The two groups of Jedi that held territory were being beaten down. She’d never fought them, never seen the defenders of the Light at their strength and therefore she paid them little mind. At this time, she underestimated them.

Farah’s interest laid in science and medicine, spurred on by the discovery of her own biology. The Zeltron had not been conceived by conventional means and it occupied her thoughts, even causing her great distress at some points.

Staying at the Zambrano estate, Farah chose to spend her time in the medical wing of one of the Sith structures. Here she was able to carry out experiments in peace and attend a lecture or two if she had time. The Zeltron knew quite a lot about medicine, most of it being derived from flash training rather than actual experiences. She was trying to correct that.

The door to the lab slid open with a familiar woosh and she grimaced. The doctors here were occasionally called away to deal with the Empire’s injured, but Farah was only interested in her research.

“What now.” The young woman didn’t bother to shift her gaze from the microscope’s oculars.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Lola Sayu had been a real pain; a pain in the nasoloacrimal duct to be precise.

Upon leaving the system, Connor had underestimated the effects of the sulphur in the air, and in due course it had irritated the already precarious wound under his left eye, a stamp on his being by the Sith Sorceress Matsu Xiangu months ago.

On Bastion, Connor headed to the medical wing of the main capital building. He didn’t know his way around and had only been here twice, and while still feeling like he was an outsider, he was more confident in himself and his ability. He was a Master of the Force, and should be treated like one by any of those who question him or were beneath him in the pecking order.

It was hard to keep the eye open for the most part, the muscle spasms forcing it closed to stem the burning sensation. As the tear duct itself had been mauled by Xiangu, evident by the dead tissue lining down his face where she nearly clawed his eye out, dry blood from the duct had rolled down his cheek and it looked worse than it actually was on first impression.

Still, it needed checking because he could hardly see out if it.

Blinking every other second, an annoying twitch that never seemed to go, Connor walked, hand out to be sure he wasn’t going to bump into anyone or anything as he headed across the wing towards a room – he was directed to the consultation lounge but he wasn’t going to waste more time than he already had, so he would find a doctor to help him now.

The first door he came to opened automatically with a small hiss, and it was apparently a Zeltron nurse running this room. Vials on the side, what looked like medical supplies and hazardous waste containers by the wall, instruments and paperwork scattered around. Not your everyday ward nurse it seemed.

Her reluctant welcome indicated she wasn’t happy about being interrupted. For a second, Connor remembered the only Zeltron he had ever seen with such fiery hair as this. Small world. Still, he walked in, trying not to rub his eye.

”Sorry to bother you, but I have a small nasoloacrimal problem if you don’t mind taking a….look.”

Connor looked at her from the side as she was fixated on her microscope. It was a small world indeed. He couldn’t believe who he was seeing. Last time they had spoken, he had been half-cut in one of her seedy clubs on Zeltron and received a cigar burn to the hand.

” What the hell are you doing here. Being righteous suddenly become boring?”

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

Farah was only partially paying attention to the new voice as a polite request for assistance was made. However, once the voice took on an accusatory tone her focus shifted sharply from the slide on the scope’s stage to the newcomer.

A man, taller than her with a heavy Force signature was standing a few feet from the entrance. Farah stared at him for a moment, trying to place the face to a name or a time. Her eyes narrowed in irritation at having been disturbed and…accused of something strange.

“I’m a doctor. Why wouldn’t I be here?” What was strange happened to be this situation.

Maybe she was a little nettled at the insinuation that she was righteous. Or boring.

She stared him down, trying to figure out if they really had crossed paths at some point and she just didn’t remember. Farah didn’t have many memories to go off of, so it figured that she would have remembered encountering this man.

“We’ve never met.”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor stood, now distracted from his eye, by the fact he was looking at Joza Perl once more. Yet, it didn’t sound like her, not as he remembered. And her eyes – they were as sickly as the sulphur he had escaped from. Either she was suffering some head-trauma, had memories wiped or...

”Forgive me,” he said slowly, looking at her, ”you just reminded me of somebody I knew once before.”

He felt nothing from her, except a Force aura. This would be a situation to walk across carefully in lieu of where they both were and seemingly comfortable with; opposite sides of where they had been when they met. Connor moved back to give them a little space and stood before the bunk, not assuming she would give him the time of day if she thought he was a hostile.

”I couldn’t trouble you to take a look, could I, Doctor…” he left it open for her name.

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

“Zambrano.” She supplied.

Farah stared at him for a moment more, suspicion turning in her eyes before she waved a hand to the chair next to her. There was a scope in front of it, likely for another researcher but she was the only one around.

“Have a seat.”

The young doctor retrieved a pen light from the breast of her lab coat, and should he sit down, began to examine him.

“You said you were having trouble with your tear duct? Were you injured there?” She didn’t particularly care about what was troubling him in the empathetic sense, but it was part of the diagnostic process to know the patient’s full history as it pertained to the procedure. Given that he’d used the scientific name for his issue, she could only assume that either he was a doctor himself—unlikely as he had come to seek medical attention, but you never knew—or that this was a chronic problem.

She guessed it was the eye with the telltale signs of redness and inflammation in the corner. “Look straight ahead, over my shoulder.” She eased the penlight in front of his eye to make sure his pupils dilated as they should and to get a closer look.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

A ever so slight nod of the head to acknowledge the good doctor Zambrano. Another one. The family was breeding faster than a habitat of Porgs across the galaxy. But that didn’t answer the question why she looked….a few pieces suddenly fell into place.

”Thank you,” he said taking a seat and following her instructions. ”Yes, a year or so ago I was injured in a confrontation.” He over her shoulder, trying not to blink at the irritation. ”They clawed my face as you can see and left their mark and nearly gouged the eye out. I can see perfectly, but the tear duct is deranged and sometimes leaks a dribble of blood. No pain.”

He moved his eye at her instruction.

”There’s no pain, but dry weather makes it irritable. And I was recently on a planet with high sulfur in the atmosphere and I think it’s just, well, irritated but I wanted to be sure.”

Connor left a few seconds of quiet, and let her scent tickle his nose.

”Do you know a Zeltron lady by the name of Joza Perl? She’s a business woman, and a Jedi. When it suits her.”

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

Expression completely focused on the exam, Farah hummed in acknowledgement of his words.

“I can certainly see some scar tissue. You said you were clawed in the face? You’re lucky that your vision is still intact. Eyes are sensitive.”

She’d seen quite a few warriors with a cybernetic eye or two even in her short time here. Short but plentiful. Farah was very demanding and tireless in her pursuit of gaining medical skills. Any skills that she could call her own, really. Kaine Zambrano had insisted that she become her own person and deviate from her ‘original self’—a term that bothered her since the day she learned it. As far as she knew, Farah had none of her template’s memories. Every memory she had was something she’d created on her own.

Which brought to mind another jaw-clenching thought; was any of her ability in thanks to her template? How alike were they really?

The Zeltron pulled away and reached over to the other side of her to rummage through a drawer. Finding a handheld scope, she fished a disinfectant pad from her coat and began to clean the implement.

“I’m going to take a closer look.”

She moved to place a finger just below his lower eyelid but paused as she heard a certain name. Kaine had told her about the woman, basic facts really. A Jedi, an entertainer, something along those lines. As soon as Farah knew how to work the holonet she’d punched that woman’s name in. Though she knew that they looked exactly alike, there was something heavily unsettling about staring at pictures of your face when it wasn’t really you.

“I’ve never met her.” Farah responded with a controlled smoothness. “Have you?” She tried to keep that hopeful spark out of her voice, mind reeling at the thought of opening Pandora’s box.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

With a nod here, a little murmer of understanding, Connor let the Zambrano do her work. He didn't need to hear how lucky he was - he was sure it was down to millimeters when those metal talons clawed at him. Flesh peeling like warm butter. Muscle tearing like paper.

”Thank you, I mean it probably just needs cleaning, I don't want any reconstructive surgery or the like. It's usually fine, but you can't be too sure.”

When the doctor busied herself and spoke about not knowing Joza, Connor looked around at her set-up. This did seem a million miles away from anything he thought the old Joza Perl would do - medicine and lab coats and all associated practices? Certainly a career change from high heels and spice selling.

”Oh, yes I've met her many times across recent years. It just doesn't add up because you are the spitting image of her. The hair, the skin-tone. Bar your eyes and voice, I swore it was her standing there when I came in.”

Connor held a soft gauze under his eye for her and looked up.

”Anyway. Enough of her, I'm sorry, she's not important. Tell me, where do you come from? Have you been a doctor long?”

The bait was dangling and it was time to see if she would bite to help him decipher if what he suspected was true. And in turn if Joza Perl was even still alive.

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

Farah stared at her patient for a few moments, realizing that he, in fact, knew her template. More than Kaine had, it sounded. Though she wondered about the nature of their relationship, it wasn’t right to delve into those sorts of questions just yet.

Especially before confirming just who she was.

As he placed the gauze under his eye, she moved forward and flicked the light of the scope on. Peering through one end, she was able to get a better look of the area around the eye.

“The membrane is defiantly irritated but there doesn’t seem to be any lasting damage. I’d suggest eye protection next time you’re in the sulfur mines.” She quirked a brow before pulling away. “I’ll give you some antibiotic eye drops just to be safe. And a saline rinse that will help flush out anything irritating your eye.”

The doctor fetched a smaller datapad from her pocket and tapped at the screen a few times, ordering the reagents she needed. Reagents in this case being medication.

“Long enough.” She answered the latter question before looking up and bringing her gaze over to him again.

“I’m the spitting image of her because we have the same DNA.” She responded flatly. The racing thoughts in her mind had suddenly stopped, suspended by the hope that he could tell her more. “I’m her clone.” It wasn’t exactly a secret. It was the first thing she’d learned about herself.

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The doctor reported what he knew, but it was always better getting a professional to inspect and make the diagnosis. At least there was no major damage, no more than normal.

”Thank you.”

That was that, and she began to cross the t's and dot the i's in getting him what he needed. Without touching his eye, itching already, Connor blinked slowly and tried to stop the irritation. He did so as the Zambrano dropped a little bomb-shell during the diagnosis. Sharing the same DNA? A clone?? Connor didn't overly react, but he recoiled slightly.

”I see,” came a slow reply. ”So. Papa Kaine takes the DNA from a presumably dead or kidnapped Jedi-cum-business woman and turns it into his own version to play creator with.”

It was a rather God-like complex he was learning about the Sith Lord more and more from rumour and story.

”Hm. Well, I can't see for why he would do that, but it's not my place to question. Perhaps he wanted Joza Perl himself and this is the closest he will ever have. Tell me, so you know anything else about why you were...created?”

Safe to say, he was intrigued.

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

There wasn’t much Farah could say. Scratch that, there was a lot that she wanted to say. This man was the first person she’d come across who claimed to actually know her template. Which was a weird thought, but she wasn’t prepared for the possibility of running into someone who knew Joza. Not in Sith space, at least.

“Not much beyond what you’ve guessed.” Her shoulders rose and fell in a shrug. “I was created to be a servant to him.” It was clear that she had some decent freedom to pursue her interests and move about where she liked—so long as it was in the name of the empire and Zambrano family.

It just so happened that she delved into the medical field, her curiosity over the biology of life developing within the first few days of her creation. Back when her whole world consisted of the sterile white walls of a lab, where she was the one being poked and prodded by the labcoats. One of them had left out a textbook one night and she’d read it cover to cover.

“I’m not sure why he chose her specifically. I was hoping you would know enough about her for his decision to make sense.” She looked off to the side for a moment before meeting his gaze once more. “Kaine said that I had her potential in the Force. Was she strong?”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor watched and listened as Farah spoke. He bore no loyalty to Kaine Zambrano – he was a name who ruled a Sith sect; he had been the one to cull Iella E’ron, his true Grandmaster of the Silver Jedi, and had simply been associated with the Dark Side ever since. To Connor, he was just a name. Zambrano was just a name – it signified nothing to him in the grand scheme of things.

Yet he wasn’t going to stand in his way or become some martyr on what was right and wrong. Connor was indifferent, yet he had a path to follow.

As for Joza Perl, she had been close to Connor to a point where communication failed, lines blurred and motives become tangled. It had been a downward spiral ever since he had tried to help her and her children. She was complex to say the least and he would never forget her, even if he would never see her again.

So he thought; Farah was the mirror of the Joza he knew.

”Joza, to me, was strong, but I knew stronger and I’m sure Kaine did too. I am not sure why it was her DNA used. As I said, she seemed to flit between the lines of what people see as good and evil. Corruptible but with a conscious. Jedi Master when it suited, and then running a chain of strip clubs with fashion on the side.”

He gave a little snigger – she certainly was a unique one.

”Of course I don’t know you, looking beyond the physical mirror I see before me. I can’t see why Kaine used her or to what end he will use you against her. Being a Sith, I’m sure his motives stretch far more than just you serving him when he probably has dozens of servants dotted around the place.”

He sat forward and dabbed some antiseptic lotion from a pot on the side table and rubbed his hands slowly.

”What niche do you want to carve for yourself away from simply ‘Joza Perl’s clone’?”

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

As he spoke, Farah took to filing away some of the slides that had piled up at her desk. The gesture wasn’t meant to distract either of them and the look on her face would indicate that she was listening intently. The doctor just liked to keep her hands busy.

The slides really needed to be filed anyway. Interns and lab aides alike knew that the doctor was in deep thought when she was doing busy work. Beyond that, she hardly deigned to aliquot reagents or rearrange bottles.

“My niche.” She spoke aloud, a feather of humor resting on her tone. So far he hadn’t told her anything she didn’t already know about her template. Holonet searches covered the basics—Joza’s largest presence seemed to be in the entertainment business. Not uncommon for a Zeltron, from what she’d learned of her people. But they weren’t really ‘her’ people, were they? Yet another disconnect. “I can tell you that I do not have plans to start up any strip clubs.”

She leaned back in the chair while taking a plastoid box of slides into her lap, idly continuing her work. “As for my niche, you’re looking at it.”

A mirthless smile tilted her lips, slow and gentle and slight as it was. “I’m not exactly sure why Kaine chose who he did. It could be overly complex or overly simple. What a way to numb a girl’s mind.” She paused, fingers pinching gently against the glass of a slide as she held it up to the bright, clinical lighting of the laboratory.

“Were you her friend?”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

As the clone seemed happy for him to talk and make his own assumption on things, working away but never evoking the feeling he was in the way, Connor stayed seated on the bunk and rested his hands on the edge and watched her.

She moved differently than Joza - why wouldn't she? Clone didn't mean dot-the-dot replication; it was DNA, the genetic build-up. This one would be something far different. But to what end? That was the niggle the fallen Jedi couldn't quite connect.

”At one time, yes,” in answer to her casual question. ”I helped her through a rough patch when we were on the same side many moons ago. You mention my name and I'm sure Daddy Kaine will have a few things to say and amuse himself with. My past hasn't always been as crystal cut as many, but that's another story.”

With that, he got down and started to look at the large cabinets of medicines and apparatus on the side wall.

”She is mother to children born from a Sith partner, but I don't know what happened to them to be honest nor do I care. Last time I saw her she was running her clubs, fighting the good fight but out for profit as it suited her. Business first, everything else second.” Connor gave her a side-look. ”As I said, a rather unique but at the same time by the book sort of Zeltron.”

He went back to looking at the various labels and colours of vials.

”She has a big reputation out there. You want to be unique, then distance yourself. Make YOUR name count for something, not hers. You may share her DNA, but you don't share her shadow.”

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

Farah turned the slide slightly so that it caught the light better, bits of petrified tissue on its surface darkening in contrast. She struggled for a few moments to remember where it was from, a light of recognition flickering in her eyes before she began to file through the dividers in the box with her other hand.

The man’s words filtered into her ear and for the first time she mused on the fact that she didn’t even know his name.

Then the slide loosened from her grasp, clattering to the ground. It didn’t shatter, but bits of glass splintered from the edges and surged toward the center.

Farah frowned before gingerly picking up the thin piece of glass. “There are children?” This was an unsettling thought. Though she herself had neither carried nor birthed them, Farah was, in the most technical way, responsible for the maternal half of their DNA. She stared at the slide, stuttered by cracks and briefly entertained the thought of what her children would look like.

They weren’t her children, she knew that. But it was very strange to think about.

Shaking it off, she turned eyes towards the broken slide once more and sighed a little. “Hand me that, would you?” She motioned over to a bottle that was closer to her guest.

If he did, she would begin to repair the slide, carefully drawing lines of clear resin over the cracks with the tapered tip of the bottle. “Well, there’s nature and there’s nurture. If she and I share some traits then that is to be expected. I'll get a feel for her reputation in time, I suppose..”

She looked up at him, shoulders rolling in a gentle shrug. “Siblings end up in different places all the time. I don’t think she was born in an incubation cradle on Bastion, so at least I’ve got that going for me.”

Opening one of the drawer’s at waist height, she picked out a small box and fetched a thin glass cover slip from it before pressing it atop the slide. “What’s your name, anyhow?”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Connor turned his head half-way at the sound of the small tinkering of glass on the floor; it seemed the words of truth rattled her. Just how much DID she know about her template at all? She began to sort the slide out at once, and he moved to hand her the bottle without hesitating.

”Of course,” he said. ”Here.”

As the clone began to repair her slide in meticulous detail, she talked as if she shared a bond with Joza, but Joza wouldn’t see it that way at all, and nor would the Sith who created her for that matter. Unless he wanted that…unless he wanted to lure her in or twist her mind.

”Well, don’t concern yourself too much because, really, you’re not siblings, are you. Cut from the same genetic make, yes, but not as nature intended and not in a way you could share any bond.”

His words were harsh, but true. This clone couldn’t afford to fall in line with Joza; not for the sake of the Sith, but for the sake that she was better away from Joza Perl altogether to stay out of trouble. But, yes! His name.

”Forgive me,” he extended his hand. ”Connor Harrison at your service. And you are….because I’m not calling you Joza Two, that’s for sure.”

He smiled. Joza had been special to him in some way. Maybe this clone could be too for the right reasons and not built upon mistrust and deception.

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

The Zeltron hummed softly as she worked. Watched the resin slip into the cracks and bind the glass together. Maybe there was some whimsical symbolism in this but that would be ignored in favor of being meticulous in her work.

“I do not share a bond with my template.” She paused. “Genetically, yes. But that amounts to so little right now.”

She smoothed the cover glass with one gloved hand, urging the resin bubbles to the periphery of the slide.

“I think you misunderstand.” She went on. “I don’t believe that she and I are siblings. I may be a carbon copy of her, but even I am able to recognize that upbringing can alter nature drastically.” The Zeltron paused, humor over a private thought crinkling in her eyes. What a fine experiment that would make, but she was already a compromised party. “Still,” Her gaze fixed on the man once more. “It’s entirely natural for me to be curious, don't you think?”

Of course the whole clone thing nettled her, though much less than it did when she’d first learned of it. The more she discovered about herself, the more she felt established as her own person.

Farah de-gloved one hand and extended it to meet Connor’s. “Farah Zambrano.” She offered. “Are you one of the Empire’s Sith, Connor Harrison?”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

The girl - the clone - had spirit. He wasn't an expert on clones himself or the process of their creation, formation and development, but this one seemed to be a perfect case study. He nodded once and raised his hand in a small salute. She made a fine point.

Now, introductions. His remaining natural arm came down to meet her hand with his.

”A pleasure, Farah Zambrano.”

And a good question that made him think. It was something he had wondered for a while, but inside he knew the answer.

"I...I don't think so, not really.” He let go of her slender hand. ”I've had something of a complicated history with the current ruling body of this current Empire. You see I knew Joza Perl because I served as a Master in the Order Of The Silver Jedi. I don't think I'll ever find a place within, but my long standing is with the Force, not a single individual who pertains to own it.”

Connor caught himself looking away and almost talking to himself before coming back to the doctor in the room.

”Sorry, long boring story. Yet they are not my enemy, regardless where I stand in their eyes.” He folded his arms. ”Are you, Farah, serving the Sith Empire too, as a doctor or some other asset? If you don't mind answering, of course.”

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

She shook his hand, retracted and re-gloved.

“You were a Jedi?” Her brow raised and she spoke with a tickle of amusement that indicated she didn’t quite believe him. Farah had never met a Jedi before—or an ex-Jedi, for that matter.

All she’d ever known were the clinically efficient scientists who’d undertaken her creation and the tall warriors that roamed the Zambrano estates with burning eyes. Garbed in darker colors with threatening auras. It was…interesting but she much preferred Coruscant.

“That’s pretty much it.” She shrugged. “Doctor or some other asset that remains to be seen.” In all truth, she was comfortable with her position within the Empire for now. Farah had very little else to her name, everything that she was and had been given she owed to the Zambrano name. Though they watched her, she was typically left to do her work in peace.

For now, of course. She had the nagging feeling that this was all temporary. Once she built up her strength, perhaps things would go differently for her.

“So you’re sort of…an in-betweener, then.” It was a concept that made sense, but not one that she had been taught when it came to the Force. Kaine had explained that there were Dark and Light, Sith and Jedi.

“What were they like, these Jedi?”

[member="Connor Harrison"]

 

[Connor Harrison]

He chuckled at her wording. She wasn't the first to say that about him. Leaning back, he brushed his hand across his chin.

”An in-betweener. In some ways, but I am not in the middle of the Jedi and Sith, the Light and Dark. For me there is one Force, and you serve it with true potential or you serve it with a lie. I serve with potential, never denying what I am or what I can do for the greater good. You won't see me aiding anyone in the Light to fuel their lies.”

Farah was certainly inquisitive, which was a good thing. Connor didn't mind talking at all, not now that he knew where he stood. It was nice to learn more about her too and the links she had within the Sith circle and that nagging Joza Perl issue. Where WAS Joza anyway, was she dead?

”Many different Sith populate the galaxy, some following the codes laid by Kaine, others by different Lords, but they all strive for the same goal and outcome. The Jedi are the same - different Orders and sects, but one similar goal. The thing is, they exist only to control and manipulate and decieve.” He leant in to Frarah slightly. ”They liberate worlds, support governments and aid the weak, but on what foundations? They control the stronger ones among them, forbidding individuals to explore new pathways of power and focus and instead betray and decieve them into becoming a target. I was in a position at one time to take the Silver Jedi for myself and mould them into a force like the galaxy had never seen - not afraid of anything or anyone or any judgment. Instead, I was painted to be a monster, had personal items stolen from me, ranks stripped from me and cast out by the ones I used to call family.”

His eyes were dark, his voice solemn.

”I know where the ones responsible are. One day, I want to return and make them suffer like they made me suffer, seeing how they tried to restrain me only made me stronger. Never let them inside your head, Farah. Never.”

[member="Farah"]