The Leper Affinity (Complete)

[Kuzo]

Coruscant

Irajah lay on the cot, trying to keep her eyes closed for just a little longer. She hadn't gone back home last night after her shift.

Home?

The single room she was renting while she was here on Coruscant. Just like every other single room since Tatooine. Home? No. With minor differences, each was too quiet- too lonely. And in the quiet, the dreams came. Other places, she'd stayed out as long as she could, staying at the bar or cantina until last call, until the voices of other sentient beings faded and she was forced to return to those single rooms, alone and quiet. She'd stay awake until she couldn't keep her eyes open and, when she was lucky, pass in to a dreamless sleep.

Ever since Mon Calamari, she'd been doing her best to avoid the Jedi. They'd been kind, sure, but that didn't go far when someone gets locked up in a quarantine ward. She'd laid low, trying to avoid attention, but never willing to be completely alone for too long.

And each place, she'd tried to find information. Tried to find out anything she could about the Gulag Virus and who could possibly have altered it and released it on her home world 400 years after that plague had passed. And in each place, she'd come up with nothing. In truth, she didn't even really know what she was looking for anymore.

Coruscant was little different. Except here she had a task for herself. She had signed on to work with the Aid Consul, helping the citizens of the planet wide city who had been affected by the war here. It kept her busy, kept her tired.

In fairness, it wasn't the only thing that kept her tired.

She sighed, hazel eyes opening on the hospital lounge that they had converted for the use of the aid workers. Sitting up, she yawned, ruffling her short, dark hair. As she stood, stretching, her sleeves slipped down her arms, baring deep, angry bruises along her wrists and forearms.

"Hey Doc!"

She turned swiftly, pushing her sleeves down, but someone had already seen them. Her supervisor quirked an eyebrow at her.

​"You okay? Was moving the rubble yesterday too much for you?"

Irajah shook her head, but the older woman pursed her lips.

"How about you stay at the hospital for your shift today? No, I'm serious, go a little easy, okay? You're one of the only actually competent doctors I have to work with, and I don't want you to over do it. We'll send anyone we find here."

She smiled slightly, "Alright Terr. I won't push it today. I'm not on until this afternoon, can I clean up here?"

The other woman nodded. " 'Course. That's what it's for." She looked for a moment like she was going to say more but decided against it.

Irajah watched her leave, her hands tugging absently on the opposite sleeve cuffs the whole time.

*****

Half an hour later, dark ringlets still damp, Irajah exited the lounge. She had time to kill until her shift. Frowning for a moment, she looked around the hallway, following her feet rather than any particular plan. She eventually found herself slipping in to a darkened observation room. The vista below was busy- a complicated surgery going on.

She moved to the long window looking down on the complicated process below. Not an accident or something like that. Tilting her head, she placed one hand on the cool glass, resting her forehead there a moment later as she watched. A doctor herself, the open body, the blood, the tools- none of those things phased her.

But the growth they were extracting from the body? That gave her pause. It was pulsing with a life of its own, in an arrhythmic staccato. It gleamed wetly, dark veins coursing over it. She craned her neck slightly, realizing it had completely engulfed the patient's heart. This delicate operation was trying to extract that organ from within the growth without damaging the heart itself. As she watched, the growth actually pulsed, tightening. A flurry of movement, the barest echo of a high pitched electronic wail as the natural cardiac rhythm faltered. Doctors and nurses moving in silence from her vantage point in the observation room, working feverishly to save this life.

"What in the gods-cursed maw is that?" She whispered to herself.

No, not entirely to herself. After all, Irajah didn't realize that someone else had already been in the dark observation room when she entered, also watching the operation below them.

Of course, he knew very well what it was. And why it was. And he knew everything else she was searching for.

Just that neither of them knew it yet.

[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

If they could only see what was right under their nose, the Jedi Council would have fit. If only the arrogant scum would step down from their Ivory Tower. If only......Daxton dismissed the thought from his head, as he watched unblinking in the darkness of the observation room while the doctors operated below him.

Standing as still as a statue, he savored the sense of isolation that the shadows brought. It soothed him like a loved ones caress, familiar but strange all at the same time.

Watching as the doctors desperate cut into flesh to try and seperate the growth from the heart, blissfully unaware that architect of all that suffering as observing their futile gestures, like buzzard watching the last few twitches before is meal.

He heard the half whispered question and before he could stop himself he replied, "He is dying from Order. Stagnating order seeking to sink its tangled web and crush us from within."

He doubted she was here to discuss philosophy though, not that it really mattered as they rushed to save the patients life. A sad futile gesture, but it amused him to watch. So they watched in silence, sharing an unspoken bond as their eyes drank in the scene below. A cup of stimkaff long since gone cold within easy reach, the rumpled clothes which were starting to go sour, the dead disinfected recycled air seemed to cling around as their vigil continued for another hour or two. Hard to tell really, time played tricks on the mind if you allow it to.

 

[Kuzo]

So engrossed in the drama playing out beneath them, Irajah didn't even startle when someone actually answered her musings. It seemed almost natural. The two stood, watching in silence, wrapt in their own thoughts as the struggle between life and death unfolded like a play for only them.

She knew at one point that death had already won. She was too familiar with it now to not see it lurking in each hitch of the heart. The patient flatlined only a few minutes later. The operating room burst in to a new frenzy of activity, but Irajah already knew it was too late.

Finding herself leaning against the glass of the observation level, she pushed herself away, shaking her head. Something about the pulsating mass around the patient's heart was..... familiar was the wrong word. She was certain she'd never seen anything like it before, there was no doubt. But she felt like she ought to have. Or that there was a connection she was missing. But between that and what else? Frowning, she mused aloud.

"I wonder if Terr can get me access to the mortuary ward. I'd like to take a closer look at that."

Though it was still dark in the room, it was like a switch was flipped. She suddenly remembered that she wasn't alone in the observation box. Slowly, she turned toward the shadow that, now that she was consciously aware of him, seemed to fill the room.

"My apologies," she said softly, making an assumption. "My condolences on your loss."

After all, who but a member of the family would be watching in such tense silence? She remembered, belatedly, his strange words before. She kept the frown from her face, but something in the back of her mind whispered strangeness. She just didn't know what or why.

[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

Stepping away from the window, the figure drew closer and she could see it was a zabrak with emerald green eyes who seemed to study her with intensity. "Thank you my dear. But I hardly knew the patient. I am here for that thing they removed from his heart. I am almost certain they will find the patient's lungs, liver and spleen have long since athropied. Small crystalline growth would line the stomach and intestine. Most interesting indeed. But don' t let me bore you with the gory details. They call me Daxton Bane. Would you do me the pleasure of knowing your name?"

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah fought a very clear mental command from some lower part of her brain step back as he stepped forward. She found herself unnerved slightly by the explanation and something in the way he spoke and moved. The intensity of his gaze. She stood her ground however, not really knowing what exactly was setting off that deep hind brain response.

She hadn't had enough training in the Force to recognize the warning for what it was.

So, not a family member or friend. A doctor? Researcher? Someone familiar with the disease? She hesitated to make too many assumptions here. But his level of interest was interesting itself.

"Doctor Irajah Ven," she said when queried, nodding slightly. "A pleasure to meet you."

​"You seem to know a lot about what happened down there," she said, glancing back through the observation window. They were just now pulling a sheet over the body. "And I promise, those 'gory details' are neither gory, nor boring. I've never encountered anything like it before. Is it unique to Coruscant? And do they know what causes it?"

It seemed likely that he was, in some fashion, in the field of medicine. Shop talk came naturally. Irajah was right, in a way. Just, not in the way she thought.

[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

For a brief moment he just seemed to gaze at her without really seeing. In reality, using Shatterpoint Daxton was viewing her fate lines. So many fractured lines in one so young. His interest in her was now piqued.

"Oh I heard of you. I hear you excellent work here. You might be wondering what my interest in this. Well I collect things. The rare, the exotic, the unique. These all interest me. There was once a philosopher who said knowledge is power...."

A discrete knock on door cut the explanation short. The doctor who operatedin the room below them entered and totally ignored the young woman.

"We did our best but he is gone. Preliminary examinations show you were right...."

"No need to continue good doctor. I know what you will find. Cremate everything taken from the body. We cannot afford that loose on this world. You and your staffs services are appreciated, the funds have been transferred to your accounts. See to it the ash and all records are loaded on my ship. You may go, doctor. Say hi to Lucinda and the kids for me."

The doctor nodded before leaving the room, allowing the a few minutes of silence before he spoke again. "The reality is power is an illusion. A very small man can throw a huge shadow across a wall and many will fear this illusion of power. No, the disease is not endemic nor is it natural. Someone grew that maliciuous creation for heaven only knows what purpose. That person is known only as Chimera."

"Believe it or not, the patient was a Jedi who worked for me for some time. He caught wind that our target may be helping the Mandalorians. We lost contact and by the time we got there it was too late. The rest you got to witness for yourself."

Daxton seemed to be telling the truth and to a certain extent he was. The question now was could he bait her into doing his bidding while making it seem it was her idea all along.

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah was surprised (and if she were being honest with herself, a little flattered) that anyone around the hospital was talking about her. She did her best to fly below the radar- working hard, but not really connecting with anyone here. The hospital was huge, far larger than the hospital she had worked at on her homeworld. And while she craved the company of the people around her, she was hesitant to get too close. Risk anyone having a chance to ask too much.

She listened to him speak, a variety of thoughts and emotions flickering across her face. Some of it made sense. Some of it was too philosophical to be useful (in her experience). She couldn't help but grimace slightly despite herself when he mentioned the Jedi. She wasn't their biggest fan at the moment, not after what had happened on Mon Calamari. After all, being forcefully incarcerated in a quarantine facility was enough to make anyone a little cranky. But she also wouldn't have wished a death like what they had seen below upon anyone- not even those who had used her home world as a petri-dish.

But the one thing, binding it all together, was how familiar the narrative was. An engineered plague. A roiling pain settled deep in her abdomen, and she grimaced again, though for different reasons than before.

Her own engineered virus churned and replicated and died within her. Living out it's life in a force constructed prison that was the only thing keeping her alive. And from unleashing it's pestilence on a world with trillions of lives. Every night, she second guessed her decision to come here- sometimes second guessed her decision to survive off of her planet at all, though those were in her darkest, loneliest moments.

An engineered plague. So many small chances that would lead her here. What were the chances these things were not related? After coming up, empty handed, on a half dozen planets, to find the slimmest trace of a lead here, when she had stopped looking for a short time?

Chimera.

[member="Daxton Bane"] couldn't have known just how perfectly his narrative was set to snare the dark haired woman.

Chimera.

It was easy to believe him. She wanted to believe him, after all. If something seemed off, some vague scent of wrongness, it was easy to ignore in return for everything that was right.

(Somewhere in the back of her mind, inconsistencies were already cataloguing- subconscious and queued. He hardly knew the patient, but the patient had worked for him for some time? Why would he be telling me this, so much information that would be dangerous if an agent of Chimera knew others knew, and yet he lays it all before me? The Mandalorians? They were a straight forward culture. What truck could they have with something like this? How. Incredibly. Convenient.)

​​But they didn't bubble to the surface- just waited, for another time. And even her subconscious accepted this idea of Chimera as truth. After all, this was serendipity. Or maybe the Force. Irajah didn't know much about the Force beyond the few techniques keeping her alive, so the Force seemed like a limitless destiny, capable of anything.

In a way, it was. Just, not in this here and now.

Careful, Irajah. What to tell him?

"I have some.... experience.... with unnatural contagions," she said carefully. "Not anything like what I saw down there, I am not sorry to say. But I have studied them in the past."

She paused, frowning slightly. Absently, she tugged at the long cuffs of the sleeves of her tunic, keeping the bruises on her wrists covered.

"Sometimes, things on a genetic level, can offer clues about it's maker," she said, something off about her tone, but undefinable.

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

"Most intriguing indeed. Too be honest I was planning to wipe the memory what you saw a few minutes ago. For your safety its best you know nothing, after all isn't that a human saying, Ignorance is Bliss? "

And yet still I hesitate, why? She poses as much threat as fly but I can almost smell the potential. It's her eyes. Try as she might, one look spoke of volumes of her determination. Perhaps this trip wasn't going to be a complete waste then.

"You intrigue me, Doctor Irajah Ven. Entertain an old man, tell me what motivates you.
Why does case interest you so much?"

 

[Kuzo]

A Force User. She should have guessed. No one else could be so incredibly condescending. No wonder her father had left the Jedi. Where Irajah had been interested and engaged before, now she was angry. Something flashed in those hazel eyes. Her tone was hard. Despite the implicit threat, she didn't step back, or hesitate to make her thoughts known.

"Wipe my memory? Why is it the Jedi think they can just walk all over everyone else, doing whatever they please without consequences?"

Her assumption that he was a Jedi was a sound one, given the information she had to work with.

"You make decisions about what is best for the lives of others without even considering their own wishes. By who's authority? Only your own. And so far, I am unimpressed by the Jedi and their Ivory Tower decision making process." she continued, tone disdainful. There was more anger here than just at his words. She was thinking about her forced quarantine on Mon Calamari, how those events had spun so far out of her hands. Anger from that bubbled over, fed from an internal spring of anger at her own helplessness as her planet had died.

"I would think someone who collects curiosities and rarities wouldn't fall prey to the idea that 'ignorance is bliss.' What a load of bantha dung," she snapped with disgust. She crossed her arms over her chest as she watched him, wary but unbowed. "I care because knowledge is bliss. It's all that matters. Being lost in the darkness of unknowing- that is hell."

It wasn't the whole truth of course, but not a word of it was a lie. And the last part, being lost in the unknowing as hell, was deeply personal. There was no trace of false sincerity here.

[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Irajah Vent"]

"Jedi? Whoever said I was one?" He asked as the room got noticably colder, shadows seemed to lengthen and deepen as an unmistakeable aura of dread and fear filled the air leaving one with limbs heavy and shortness of breath. "By whose authority you ask. Then you should know it is my authority for the good of all. Did you ever consider the consequence if the knowledge were to get out that this hospital tended to a man who was sick with an uncurable infectous sickeness? Mobs would baying for blood, burn this place to the ground with everyone still inside then the damn Jedi would sweep it under the rug and pretend nothing is wrong."

"Better and safer for everyone to forget until I can get more proof, hard evidence that even the high authorities will have to act. Then the truth can come out."

"Hadn't you a secret before, that should it ever be public knowledge would have devestating results on yourself and well as those close and dear to you?" Pausing fo a moment as the feeling of anger passes. One could feel the sense of dread lessen as well as he continued. "Unfortunately, my last good lead died on that operating table. Until I get another to replace him and find out what is going on with Madalorians my investigation has just reached a dead end."

 

[Kuzo]

Of course she had secrets. Everyone had secrets. But she didn't go blabbing them about and then threatening to erase people's memories because she couldn't keep her mouth shut when it mattered.

Not that she was going to *say* that right now. It would have been satisfying beyond belief, but there was something far more important in that moment than verbal satisfaction.

Chimera.

This was an opportunity that might not ever come again. Certainly wouldn't if she antagonized this man further. She didn't doubt his threat of wiping her memory. It rang too true, too casual, to have been an empty threat.

"Then instead of starting over, you already have someone who knows too much to let walk out of here, by your own admission," she said, her voice intense, a fire banked.

"I can help you. I would need to know more- but you'd be able to erase my memory at any time," she muttered with a grimace, "so what do you have to lose? If this person, this Chimera, is using diseases to attack your agents, what better person than a doctor? And I have my own ways to.... avoid infection." It was the closest she was coming, at this time, to explaining any of her own history.

"I've also worked for the Mandalorians before. My presence there is as welcome as any outsider's could be."

She didn't trust him. Not even a little. But she needed him.

And she was gambling that he needed her.

[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

The zabrak paused as to give her proposal some thought, "What you propose intrigues me and I don't have time to get another agent in place. You will be suitably compensated and equipped within reason but I want you to be aware should you be caught and captured there will be no rescue attempt. Am I clear?"

"Five thousand credits will be made immedately available to you once the deal is accepted. You will be approached by one of my agents with the gear and information I will provide you. Once you are there, my agent is your contact until you find evidence of the Chimeras work or any plans by the Mandaloreans to use chemical or biological warfare. Any information you do acquire will be compensated handsomely through any arrangement you would prefer, do we have a deal?"

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah listened intently, nodding curtly when the 'no rescue attempt' clause was spoken.

Was there a chance that this was a false lead? Of course there was. This might have nothing to do with the death of her homeworld at the hands of madness. But even if it was, how could she turn away? Even if the culprit, this Chimera, was not the same one who had wiped out her people, -he-it-they?- was doing the same thing, risking other worlds.

Were the Mandalorians fully cognizant of the risk in dealing with a monster like this? And was it only a few individuals that risked their entire culture to potential destruction? From the Mandalorains she had already met, it seemed likely that any work with this Chimera was the acts of a few lone fools. Especially if it had remained a secret.

All of Irajah's biases and wished were being fed in to, and already she was subconscious constructing a narrative based on her own experiences.

Confirmation bias was a b*tch.

"Agreed," she said, offering her hand to shake on the deal.

She couldn't have known that she was making a deal with her own personal demon.

[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

"Excellent." The cold calculating smile nor the clammy ice hold hand shaking hers would dispel the sense of unease. "A wise decision on your part. I shall have my people make the appropriate arrangements. Since it will be awhile before the data I have can be transferred over, I will suggest you start your investigation on Yavin. That was where my mans investigation last took him. So once you settle your affairs here, you should look into booking passage. Do you have any questions for me?"

 

[Kuzo]

She withdrew her hand slowly, a deep sense of forboding flooding her core. She managed to supress a shiver. Frowning, she looked up at him.

She had a million questions. But any that mattered *right now*? Perhaps not.

"I assume that any info that you have on Chimera will be included in the data, as will any specifics I need to know," she said quietly. It wasn't really a question. Already her mind was racing, planning. She didn't plan on going alone. She wouldn't make the same (presumed) mistakes the previous agent had. And she had skills here that he hadn't.

Slowly, Irajah shook her head.

"No. No further-" She paused, then said slowly. "Yes. One more. But you don't have to answer it. I don't need it to do this."

Breathing in deeply, she stared right in to his eyes, searching, though she wasn't sure for what.

"If you aren't a Jedi.... then what are you?"

​[member="Daxton Bane"]

 

[Archon Xris]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

"Be assured that everything we have on Chimera and this agent will be sent to you. It maybe on thin side as we have have very little to go on. Needless to say I will urge you caution with who you share this information with. You never know who might one of their agents."

"As for what am I? I have been called a great many things. I would like to think I am truth the Jedi want to suppress, the conscience of the Force they wish to control and manipulate. They have labelled me many things, madman, tyrant, insane psychopath.....what are all these but mere words. Actions speak far more clearly, and by my actions I hope you would consider me an ally, perhaps even one day a friend."

Suddenly the feeling of oppression disappeared and sense of understanding took its place, similar to sensation when an angry beast is calmed down by warm soft words or assurance and a fiat loving head was rubbing its ears.

"I will make arrangements for you to speak with a few of my contacts among the Mandalorians. For safety, you will be introduced as Mockingbird. I will leave it up to you if you wish to share the information with them. Now if you will excuse me I have other pressing matters to attend to." Appearing to walk with difficulty, he proceeded to vacate room.

 

[Daxton Bane]

[member="Irajah Ven"]

Minutes later there would be a notification that she would need to confirm receipt of some folders on her holopad. There was a disclaimer that the files would reside on her device for a Galactic Standard week before it would self delete. Any attempt to copy or transfer the file would cause it to self delete as well. Should she accept the folders would install on her device each was labeled for ease of use.

The first folder was labelled Chimera, a shadowy armsdealer of unknown age, race and gender. Speculations that this individual started as a freelance assassin about ten to twelve years ago before discovering more more money could be made selling weaponized chemical and biological agents to the highest bidder. This individual holds no political or ideologial beliefs, rather is guided by the almighty Credit. Multiple attempts to locate and destroy the production and distribition facilities have failed leading Daxton to believe tbere is a collusion between the arms dealer and local goverments at some level.

The second file was marked Codename Pandora. A biological agent previously suspected of being touch transmitted but recently confirmed to airborne delievered as well. Totally undetectable through current standard protocols, the agent targets the mineral iron in potential victims blood stream, causing calcification of arteries and blood poisoning with secondary effects of organ failure, heart attack, stroke or in some case unexplained berserker rage. Depending on levels of exposure it coul range from a few minutes up to two weeks. Fatality index of 82 percent, proposed counter is an experimental serum being developed which has to be injected within 60 hours of initial exposure.

Third file was some notes from her predecessor indicating a group called Spears of Cohaim, a small ultramilitant clan. In addition there were a few names which might hint of a possible lead : Titan Kryze, Uudin Jaii Kryze and Zephyr Carrick. What roles would these three play in her quest was something she would have to learn firsthand for herself.

Again the holopad chirpped but this time notifying her that the funds were now available and she would need to input where she wanted them to go.....