Dev Tears of Csilla

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

Ansisa lay in a sterile medical facility on far distant Kwenn Station. Far from the worlds of the Sith. Far from her children. Far from the hands of Kainite assassins who might seek to finish a job their lords and masters began.

The operating table was a stark gunmetal gray and austere white. Cold. Likely uncomfortable. Her body lay upon it. What little was left. Darth Carnifex and his ever loyal Prazutis had cleaved her arms and legs from her, leaving naught but stumps. Then they'd purged what remained with fire.

Gerra could feel the pain radiating from the woman. He stood over the table, arms crossed.

Revna Marr would not see one of her own house die. Perhaps unwise. The woman could become a rival if repaired, seeking to place her children over the remnants of House Marr. Still, Gerra would see this woman made whole. There was a strength that blazed within her, greater than the inferno that had seared away half the flesh from her face.

Two Dark Side amulets sat on pedestals on either side of the operating table, threaded to her by thin strands of alchemical metal that he'd inserted into her collarbone. The power of the amulets, meant to protect the wearer, would act to sustain her. For now.

"The wounds have been scoured, we will submerge you in bacta. Then we will commence reconstruction," he rumbled, matter of fact. She had only to look down to see the state she was in. And pity would be a thing of contempt to her. She needed deeds, not words. "The black market cyberdocs of this station are among the best in the galaxy. We will make you whole. But you will not be the same."

Skeevi Merrill

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

"Ehh, nonathem much," said Skeevi of the local ripperdocs. "Gotta subcontract."

They set down a clanking, rasping duffel of cybernetics and cybernetic accessories. Some were destined for Ansisa , some would click into or outright replace Skeevi's own prostheses, and some were for mood lighting.

"Doc Merrill," Skeevi said to the hate-roasting burger meat on the table. "They'em. Nar Shaddaa. What kinda borg you wanna be?"

 

[Ansisa]

The cold of the metal table beneath her was oddly soothing against the endless heat of her burns. Pain racked her, gnawing at every exposed nerve ending as she rode the fine line between consciousness and the abyss.

She didn't know who these people were, but she didn't much care either. For whatever reason they had plucked her from the wreckage, they chose to keep her alive. To fix her.

Or what was left of her.

She closed her eyes. Had it been enough? Had her children gotten to safety with the Empress and her daughter? She dared not reach oit to them, she didn't want them to feel her pain.

Her eyes opened as he spoke, tracking movement to her side as another entered. Doc Merrill. She contemplated the question before turning her eyes back to the ceiling.

"I don't care. So long as I can get back to them, protect them."

Skeevi Merrill Hasuras Na-Gerra

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

How she could find the strength to even speak, Gerra scarcely knew. Surely the amulets, though he suspected her will far surpassed all else.

"Very well. You will need to be awake for portions." A warning. "This will take many days."

His shadow fell across her body.

"We will get started."

Turning, Gerra handed a set of schematics to the ripperdoc.

"Alchemized alloy for the bones. Nameless flesh for the musculature. The face and other burns we cover with synthflesh and biofiber. Spare no expense."

The synthflesh would be the highest quality on the market, the same utilized on humanoid replica droids. Once finished, her face would be indistinguishable from her old one. But her sense of feeling would never be the same. The same would be true of the rest of her. She might regain the use of her limbs, but the sensation of touch would be dulled and deadened compared to her former self. A small price, perhaps, to be whole again.

"We will pay for additional implants as well," this was not Gerra's area of expertise. His work lay in the alchemy. "Those suited for repaying what has been done to her, if you understand my meaning, doctor."

Ansisa Skeevi Merrill

 

[Skeevi Merrill]

"Yeh."

Skeevi got to work before sympathy could take hold. There'd be time for that or maybe not, depending how the next while went. Surgery this drastic had a good chance of death at the best of times, and any time with a Sith or Sith-ish person around was not the best of times.

Skeevi looked up from the schematics as an idea struck them. More of a decision space, really. A breadth of unexplored options.

"Whatchu want're repulsors. Make yer hands, arms, knees inta force pikes. Block hits, rip grip, shove off, even use'em for bouncing around ifya fall or try space with no suit. Come to think, we could do space with no suit, the right pressure rigs and rad shields, insulation. Class B spacesuit equivalent, mebbe even Class C. An hour in the black's good time to get what you're after."

With a whistle, Skeevi summoned their doctor and nurse droids, matching dingy pastel-blue and decommissioned models, and they started getting ready on the whole anesthesia thing. Hasuras Na-Gerra was right: to give Ansisa the maximum chance of survival, anesthesia levels and approaches would be a careful balance; good thing they'd brought the droids.

 

[Ansisa]

There were a lot of words coming from the doctor, too fast for Ansisa to follow. Force pikes and spacesuit was about all she could take in, her gaze drifted from them to the Valha, the mountain of a man who had picked her up from the remains of her home, who seemed determined that she not only live, but also wanted to spare no expense at her recovery.

Why?

She didn't even know his name.

The movement of droids entering drew her gaze away before she closed her eyes. If she was going to survive this, if she was going to get back to her children, she would need more than the skills of a doctor and whatever droids they brought. With so much pain, it was easy to reach into the force, to allow the dark side to fill her, flowing through the amulets that rested either side of her.

I will not die today.

Hasuras Na-Gerra Skeevi Merrill

 

[Hasuras Na-Gerra]

Verily did the Vahlan apply himself to his craft. Most knew him as warlord and though 'tis true he reveled in the thrill of battle, the forge was his first love. He took his leave of the depressingly sterile room and ventured to a forge set up for him, all his instruments laid out. And for the next few hours the ringing of metal didst ring out as he sought to improve the smelting and molding of raw materials from droids, drenching the metal in Sith magic as he did so.

Thus did he fashion for her bones wrought of alchemized alloy, quenched in blood. They would prove resistant even to plasma swords and enhance her connection to the Dark Side, making up for the lost organic materials. Though they would be far more susceptible to weapons of the Light. Carrying in the bones with the help of assistants, Gerra and the ripperdocs fused them to replace the bones which had been taken from her, sealing them together with the Dark Side rather than application of metal pins.

Gerra allowed some time for Skeevi Merrill to make additions atop the bones as he left once more to see to the second phase: cultivation of flesh. He held less skill with alchemized organic material than with raw ore, but needs must. Drawing on the corpse of a Nameless he'd purchased from the black market, Gerra sought to mold the flesh to his will. A difficult task, considering what the creatures were capable of.

Later, Gerra re-entered the operating room during a period of her wakefulness. They had already applied the biofiber to her face, mottling half of her features with a layer of foreign tissue. His features were drenched with sweat and his mane of red hair clung to his face in scarlet wisps.

"The culture is finished. Soon you will have limbs again."

Indeed, soon enough they began work on one of her arms, taking the organic tissue Gerra cultivated and forcing it to grow around her severed arm until flesh connected to flesh. The Nameless tissue would allow her muscles to grow in strength in the Force commensurate with the foe she faced. If she faced a Dark Lord or a Master Jedi, she would find her new limbs far exceeding the power they once held.

Ansisa