Farah
Virtuosa
Bastion
Sith Temple
On day four of her life, after the scientists had gone for the night, Farah discover a book. A text titled The Biology of Life had been left out in the laboratory either by mistake or by design. When you had a fully developed adult mind with only four days of memories to process, you tended to focus heavily on what was in front of you.
It had been months since her synthesis in the incubation cradle of Carnifex’s laboratory, produced from the genetic material of a Jedi Master. Since then, Farah had displayed an aptitude for medical science and was given everything she needed to further her own development. A laboratory, a position as a physician and funds to do as she pleased. The clone had yet to experience much in her short life and hadn’t shown a particular interest in the Force just yet. Maybe in time she would, but so far her creator hadn’t pushed her to become one of those darkly clad eyes-ablaze-with-anger Acolytes she’d seen.
Still, Farah made an effort to keep her ties with the Sith Empire strong. They were all she’d ever known, after all. The Zeltron was keenly aware that they were responsible for her creation, education and could smite her from existence if they so pleased. For now, she was content to work among them.
At the moment she was making her way through the outer grounds of the temple, heading inside for a weekly check-in on her cognitive development. Which is ridiculous. She’d thought with a scoff. They’re looking for something else. But she didn’t know what.
Keeping busy, Farah’s head was tilted down slightly and vaguely illuminated by the datapad in her hand and she swiped through chest x-ray images from a recent patient who had died of unforeseen respiratory complications.
She was enlarging part of a suspicious looking image when she walked smack into a stone pillar.
[member="Darth Excidium"]
Sith Temple
On day four of her life, after the scientists had gone for the night, Farah discover a book. A text titled The Biology of Life had been left out in the laboratory either by mistake or by design. When you had a fully developed adult mind with only four days of memories to process, you tended to focus heavily on what was in front of you.
It had been months since her synthesis in the incubation cradle of Carnifex’s laboratory, produced from the genetic material of a Jedi Master. Since then, Farah had displayed an aptitude for medical science and was given everything she needed to further her own development. A laboratory, a position as a physician and funds to do as she pleased. The clone had yet to experience much in her short life and hadn’t shown a particular interest in the Force just yet. Maybe in time she would, but so far her creator hadn’t pushed her to become one of those darkly clad eyes-ablaze-with-anger Acolytes she’d seen.
Still, Farah made an effort to keep her ties with the Sith Empire strong. They were all she’d ever known, after all. The Zeltron was keenly aware that they were responsible for her creation, education and could smite her from existence if they so pleased. For now, she was content to work among them.
At the moment she was making her way through the outer grounds of the temple, heading inside for a weekly check-in on her cognitive development. Which is ridiculous. She’d thought with a scoff. They’re looking for something else. But she didn’t know what.
Keeping busy, Farah’s head was tilted down slightly and vaguely illuminated by the datapad in her hand and she swiped through chest x-ray images from a recent patient who had died of unforeseen respiratory complications.
She was enlarging part of a suspicious looking image when she walked smack into a stone pillar.
[member="Darth Excidium"]