Private Coming Home (Farah)

[Darth Carnifex]

The rain crashed down all around New Kaas City, so hard that it was almost impossible to see a few feet in front of you. Most of the inhabitants had fled inside for shelter, those few that remained outside protected by heavy ponchos and umbrellas; but even they hurried in their business. Only one seemed to take their time, leisurely walking down the empty boulevards that segregated the towering buildings around it. A black hood and cowl was pulled up around their face, shielding their identity from anyone near enough to see. What was most strange, however, was how the rain seemed to bend around their body, never truly touching them.

Ahead was the National Institute for General Medicine and Surgical Reconstruction, commonly referred to as the Institute. When the Sith had returned to Dromund Kaas, much of their former institutional infrastructure had either been destroyed or repurposed. It was decreed that new institutions would be created to serve the newly Rejuvenated Sith Empire as it reestablished itself as a regional influence, and the Institute was one of the first created. For all intents and purposes, the Institute was it's own independent entity and guided by civil interests, particularly that of the health and wellbeing of Dromund Kaas and the surrounding worlds in the Stygian Caldera. In truth, the Institute was controlled by the insidious Shadow Mind, the Empire's ultra-secretive research and development ministry.

Few knew of the Institute's true purpose, and those that did were kept in the strictest of confidences. Most of the general staff knew nothing about this, only the highest ranking officers were given privy to portions of the truth. The Sith placed in charge of the Institute's leadership knew more than most, but even then they were kept from the whole truth. Only the Chairman of Shadow Mind knew everything there was to know, other than the Dark Lord of course. These opaque layers ensured that neither power nor knowledge could be concentrated in any single individual other than those the Dark Lord deemed trustworthy.

The hooded figure entered the Institute, passing by several doctors, patients, and other general staff as they made their way deeper into the structure. None halted their movement, and every locked door opened at their approach. For this was no ordinary citizen of the new Empire, nor was it any ordinary Sith Lord.

It was the Dark Lord of the Sith, Darth Carnifex, moving about His people in secret.

For He had one purpose, to see one of the doctors currently working within the Institute. One that He had not seen for some time. He knew her to be working, busy with the life of a surgeon. For years she had lived beyond the scope of His influence, at least the strongest currents of it. He'd continued to support her efforts to learn medicine and practice her trade, anonymous sources of income suddenly materializing in her bank account every so often. She was not the only one, but she was one of the few that had come back into His shadow.

She'd know He was coming, it was inevitable.

It only mattered when.

Farah ​

 

[Farah]

"Dr. Zambrano?"

Seated at her desk, Farah didn't bother to glance up from the monitor. Her finger continued to flick across the screen, scrolling through the details of her next surgery's chart. A thorough review of the patient's medical history was a necessity, one that she didn't trust anybody other than herself with.

Occasionally she would grant the task to an especially competent resident.

"What?" Her intonation was firm, edging on harsh. It was more of a demand rather than a question. The nurse lingering at the doorway to her office stiffened, knowing well that the surgeon did not like to be interrupted while she was reviewing charts.

When the Galactic Alliance had reformed and established themselves on Coruscant, Farah reluctantly left the world that had become her home for half a decade. She'd gone by an alias during her training and tenure as an attending physician—Farah Navarro—but going by Zambrano on Dromund Kaas was a boon rather than a bane.

Her father's name carried a heavy weight no matter where she went. That was simply the nature of the Zambrano family.

"It's…it's time for you to brief the new residents on-"

"Tell them to wait."

"Doctor, they…"

Farah drew her head back from the monitor, squinting at the nurse. Her already thin patience was crumbling away.

"Very well."

Pushing away from the desk, she sighed in irritation and collected her datapad. Turning sharply on her heel, Farah exited the room and brushed past the nurse.

Halfway down the hall, she felt him. The inescapable pull of his presence. It was not demanding, it was not tormenting. It simply was, and it was everywhere.

Hooded figures were not an uncommon site in their line of work. This one was, though. At least for Farah. Her brisk pace slowed to something more purposeful as she approached him.

"Father."

The bitterness with which she'd spoken earlier had dissolved. A respectful tone was rare from Farah, as was the brief dip of her head.

"It has been some time. What brings you to the Institute?"

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

"Daughter."

The Dark Lord towered over His child by several feet, His looming presence practically engulfing her. It had been a long time since either of them had seen one another, let alone spoken. In a seemingly uncharacteristic move by the Dark Lord, He had allowed Farah free-reign to mold her life as she saw fit. He rarely interfered, save for the monetary funds that he passed along in secret; though Farah undoubtedly knew or at the very least suspected where the funds had come from. She'd partially developed her own sense of self beyond the direct purview of her tyrannical father, a luxury that few Zambrano children could experience.

"I came to see how you were acclimating to your new work. I am sorry that you had to end your career on Coruscant, I know that you were thriving quite well there." Even when years passed by without contact, the Dark Lord never truly turned His gaze away from His children. He would always watch over them, even those that had strayed so far from His side. Even Kahlil, misguided as he was, was not bereft of His father's vision.

"What do you think of the Institute thus far, my child? It is but a fledgling organization, but one I believe holds great promise for the future."

Farah ​

 

[Farah]

Farah raised her head, appraising the hulking form of her father as he spoke. She was not surprised by his presence—she figured they'd cross paths by design at some point—nor by the funds he'd occasionally replenished her account with. The doctor did not live an opulent life, and tended to obtain the provisions needed for her research through grants or other means.

It was his condolence that surprised her.

"Thank you for your consolation, father. Coruscant General taught me a great deal, but perhaps it was time for me to employ my skill elsewhere."

In truth, Farah was upset that she'd had to leave the familiarity of what she'd built behind. But her reputation for being as talented as she was acerbic made job hunting a non-issue.

When asked for her opinion, Farah considered her words for a moment. Father would appreciate honesty, but the respect she held for him would temper her bitter mannerisms.

"Far smaller than where I came from on Coruscant. I do see potential in a few of your surgeons. The xenobiology department is particularly robust." Not in bodies, but in minds.

"Perhaps as the Institute grows, we will see more complex cases. Yes, that would be ideal…I might be able to recruit Dr. Xerophan for his skill in alien orthopedics…"

A hand cradled the doctor's chin in thought as she trailed off before she brought her attention back to the present. There was, of course, the unspoken advantage of Dromund Kaas not being subjected to Jedi-brand morality.

"What plans do you have for this place, father?"

Darth Carnifex

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Carnifex listened to His daughter with rapt attention, holding onto her every word as they were spoken. He was genuinely interested in what she had to say, especially when it came to the Institute. The empire He was building was still in a transitionary period from a series of disparate and remnant factions into a unified state with a singular purpose. Much had to be done to reorganize entire economies that had become separated since the fall of the previous empire, the bureaucratic undertaking alone was a nightmare.

He knew that no one man could move such mountains alone, which is why He sought those familiar in the fields in which He wished to reestablish under the new empire. Farah had spent over a decade cultivating her skill and expertise in the medical field, and she was an invaluable advisor at this juncture.

"In truth? It's official purpose will be as advertised, a sprawling medical department to encompass all worlds brought within the empire. It will cure illnesses, mend injuries, and engage in research meant to combat future diseases. But it's true purpose will be much more secretive, to further research that the Jedi and their Alliance would decry as inhumane. You could say that the Institute's aim is progress, my daughter, across every avenue."

She would have suspected that there was more to the Institute than met the eye, that was the way of the Sith and especially the way of her father. That she had been confided with this knowledge outright was a testament to the trust that the Dark Lord placed in her, which itself was undoubtedly a surprise.

Farah ​