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[Omari Ngao]

Bastion,
[member="Farah"]'s Medical Laboratory

In all his time as a stormtrooper, Omari had never visited a medical bay. When he led his squads he led them right and true, made calculated decisions and they tended to pay off. Also he hadn't been in many super large engagements, otherwise he likely would've lost more than one soldier over his relatively short tenure as a Sergeant.

But he wasn't that much of a stormtrooper. Not anymore. He was moving past that. Evolving past that. From what he could understand there were multiple ways to go about it, but he didn't want to try and wrap his head around all of them, he just needed one to happen.

"Right. So... The 'therapy' or drugs..." His words slow, drawn out in a sort of awkward drawl as he went over his options again. "What do you suggest, Doctor?"

It was kind of weird to think about the outcome of all this. Effectively, he'd be 'dead.' The thought kind of sent a chill through his body. Crossing his arms over his chest, he looked about the laboratory. This wasn't the sort of place he could imagine spending hours on end in, but if this was what was necessary to complete his orders, then he didn't really have a choice in the matter.

 

[Farah]

Farah sat across from the Stormtrooper, legs crossed as she let her back rest against the chair at her work bench. It was entirely metallic, no leather upholstery for sanitary and durability issues, so it wasn’t entirely comfortable. Her head was cocked down, gaze flickering this way and that over the screen of her datapad.

“What do I suggest?” Her head lifted, a crimson brow sharply cocked. It generally didn’t come down to what she suggested, rather what she wanted. What she deemed to be necessary. From what she understood, the Sith Empire had good ties with the First Order. Both powers agreed on carving up their own spheres of influence out of old Galactic Alliance territory, but politics mattered little to the good doctor.

Her gaze shifted further, now looking over the young man in the chair across from her. A small part of her appreciated the fact that he was aware of the different options. Not many that came through her lab cared what she did, so long as she did it. Apart from those who found themselves in her grasp unwillingly. They seemed to care quite a bit.

“On one option, you’d be fed an IV drug over the course of several days. I’ve had success with this method, but there’s a chance you’ll relapse at any point.” She clicked her fingernails together, scrolling further down the screen of her device. “On the other option, I’d edit your entire genome to erase your susceptibility to the Force. If it works, the effects will be permanent. If it doesn’t, then…” She drifted off, a ghost of a smile tilting her barely parted lips for a few moments before her expression thinned out into something more neutral. “It doesn’t.” There was the implied worse-than-death scenario.

Farah shrugged. “It’s up to you.” She lied. “Both options are incredibly painful.” Though Sith, Farah did not delight in causing pain to others. Rather, pain was a byproduct of her work.

[member="Omari Vyken"]

 

[Omari Ngao]

From his standing position he went to take a seat in front of the Zeltron Doctor.

At least she wasn't annoyed with repeating the process to him again. Sure she explained it in a way even a child could understand, but it was still an important decision. One could succeed and he'd be effectively be Force Dead for an indeterminable amount of time before he'd relapse and he imagined that ended with him either dying because he couldn't get what he needed in time, or he just went back to... Well, how he was now. Well, it shouldn't be much different, I'll still look the same.

A hand brushed over his shortly cut hair. Since his reassignment to the Security Bureau he began to let his hair grow out to look more like a 'regular' person than an indoctrinated soldier.

His hands came together in his lap, clasped. "Up to me?" His brow raising as if he wasn't familiar with what that meant. Some parts of him may have been on the fast track to maturity, but some parts were still innocent, naive, maybe. She was a Doctor and he saw no reason for her to lie to him. She was supposed to tell the truth, he believed.

"The First Order had trouble with Yuuzhan Vong in its real early days," he suddenly blurted out as his mind wandered. Not even he was sure where he was going with this. Not yet, until he spoke again. "They're... Uh, dead in the Force too right?" His hands rose up from his lap and traveled over the table that separated the two of them; patient and Doctor. "Would it be easier if you had a live sample?"

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

Farah had gone back to playing around on her datapad while Omari mulled over his decision. She flipped through his chart, through the blood tests and the detailed exams he’d received before making it this far. Not everyone was a candidate for this sort of procedure and he’d been through several rounds of biological and psychiatric evaluation before it was determined that he had a shot at surviving.

It wasn’t an easy procedure, nor was it cheap. Farah didn’t care about the latter, her work here being funded entirely by the Empire.

Eyes quickly flicked up to the Stormtrooper. “Are you offering me a sample of the Yuuzhan Vong?” Both brows rose. “While I won’t refuse, the First Order and the Sith Empire have taken care of any procedural expenses.” Maybe that wasn’t what he was getting at.

Leaning her head back, she tilted her char away from the table to get a good look at him. He had the physicality of a soldier, but he was still young. It didn’t bother her. He’d come this far, he had plenty of time to think about what he wanted. Unless he was coerced or outright forced into this.

Wasn’t her place to step in unless he didn’t cooperate.

“It’s not my technique that’s the issue.” If there was one thing Farah hated, it was the insinuation that she didn’t know how to do her job. That’s probably wasn’t what he was getting at but she was protective of her perceived skill. “Some people just aren’t cut out for this procedure.” Emphasis on the cut, not that she would be doing that today. Well, not on him.

Her chair tilted back into place and she fixed him with a stare that was waning in patience. “Choose.”

[member="Omari Vyken"]

 

[Omari Ngao]

Omari's brow furrowed as an expression of confusion came across his features. How'd we get talking about money from Yuuzhan Vong? And in response he shook his head abruptly. "I mean, yeah, I guess. They're Force Dead, right?" He knew they were force dead, some part of him just wanted to hear her confirm it, some part of him wanting her to acknowledge that he knew things too. "It ain't about the money. All that talk about genomes or whatever you said, if you had a live Yuuzhan Vong, it'd be easier to do, right? I mean, that's what the surgery, erruhh, therapy stuff is all about, yeah?" She'd have the perfect sample that wasn't some weird tree hugging creature. He knew there were populations in the First Order, one on Zonama Sekot, but they didn't like the Imperials too much, not since the Order came in and murdered a few of their villages, but that was on the hush hush. When Omari's fireteam had gotten there, he had elected to steer clear of the Vong. Those guys could fight, and rumour said some could even use the Force nowadays. Yup. Even if they 'controlled' the planet by the end of the day, he was glad he steered clear of those oddballs.

Suppose the decision was simple.

I ain't being fed nothing.

"Gene therapy."

[member="Farah"]

 

[Farah]

Farah leaned her head back, eyes studying the man in front of her. It was best to think over what you were about to say before you spoke, as she’d learned over her past transgressions. Didn’t always remember to do that—didn’t always have the luxury of time to do that. More often than not she was yelling orders and snapping at some poor intern.

But for the sake of the procedure, she had to make sure that everything was sorted out. Though she lacked a typical amount of empathy, Omari would be her patient as he went through this procedure. And Farah was protective of her patients.

“I don’t require a template. I have a procedure in place, but some patient’s bodies just can’t handle the transformation. That’s why the success rate isn’t as high as I’d like.”

Farah paused, something other than clinical cynicism sparking in her eyes. “Although,” Her even tone broke into notes of curiosity. “I’ve studied the Vong genome before. Not in detail, mind you…” Pink fingers suddenly tapped at the datapad, screen projecting itself into three parts in front of them. There were graphs and charts, lines of numbers and letters and oddly shaped diagrams. “Yes…I might be able to. That could work.” Her hands were busy dropping and dragging data.

After a few minutes absorbed in her own thoughts, she stopped. The projections vanished.

“If you could provide me with that sample, I could certainly use it to…test another sort of procedure. A better one. To help you.” Had to throw that last bit in there to show that she wasn’t entirely concerned for her own scientific progress. Which she was. Did she care if Omari died? Probably, but only because he was an ally of the Sith Empire. Her father would be unhappy with her and perhaps redact some of his resources from her reach.

She brought up the screen projection again, this time a single one with a few lines of data. A genome, written in some sort of scientific notation. “I’d like to modify your genome—tweak it, if you will—with some genetic material from your Yuuzhan Vong sample. If this works, you’ll be Force dead for sure and possibly with less repercussions. If it doesn’t…”

Farah shrugged. They’d have to do a few test runs on some of her sample stock to be sure. Either way, there was a glint in her eyes akin to that of a child on Sithmas.

[member="Omari Vyken"]