Surprisingly enough, it wasn’t that difficult to find willing participants for her drug trial within the Sith Empire. She thought that the chance of death or the drug not working—along with the few weeks of horrible symptoms regardless—would be enough to scare away most potential candidates. Alas, how she underestimated a Sith’s natural desire to get stronger via whatever means necessary.
Farah had met Xevek during the Sith Empire’s tournament. He’d been there as a competitor while she’d been part of the medical team treating the wounded. Evaluating him for herself, he seemed to be a promising candidate and was thus offered a spot in the drug trial.
This trial was her baby. With all the work she’d put into developing this drug, the Zeltron did not want to see effort wasted by lazy or incompetent medical staff. Thus, she’d overseen the trial herself, making sure to visit patients as time allowed for.
“Rakama.” Stepping into his room, eyes busy with the datapad in her hands, she hardly sounded warm. Yet not unfriendly. Such was Farah. Sometimes she made an effort to be rude when deemed necessary, but mostly she seemed brusque and unamused. It was a love of medicine that molded her that way; often busy and no time for pleasantries.
“How are you feeling today?” She looked up from the datapad and made her way closer to his bedside. “Able to keep anything down?”
It was odd that he’d choose to wear a mask with the rest of himself exposed, but Farah didn’t mind so long as he was compliant with the trial regulations. Which he had been, so far.
[member="Xevek Rakama"]