Private Getting a replacement.

[Rann Thress]

Location: Ryloth - Dynetech Main Office

Rann's eyes were fixated on the floor beneath him. It had been a while since the battle on Ryloth, and he struggled remaining on the planet. He'd much rather have been on the fleets going to Talay or Taris, instead, he was here.

Immediately after the battle, Rann was evacuated off Ryloth for surgery. Most of what remained of his arm was saved thanks to the quick actions of the Medics ( Draconis Sederius Wolf ) and besides for some new scars on his body and some headaches that the doctor said would go away in time, he was fine. It was recommended Rann take a couple more weeks of bedrest to properly heal, but if he stayed in that bed any longer he was going to go insane. As luck would have it, his opportunity to leave quite literally walked through the door as he had decided to leave. Some business man Rann had never seen before.

"You lost your arm in service to the Confederacy right? Here, take this card. You don't have to live without."
Rann took the card and studied it.

Dynetech
Prosthetics and Medical Consultation
Injured in the line of duty?
Visit our
Ryloth Main Offices
Asher Malvern



​

He looked back at the man and shook his head. He looked down at his right arm, or what was left. A deep sadness came over him. He wasn't whole anymore. He'd never be the same again. But maybe this would help.

Today, Rann sat in this company's lobby, on some.... okay seats. People were scattered throughout the lobby, no one paid him any mind. At least, he didn't think they did. It'd be hard not to notice one of his sleeves secured up around the remains of his right arm instead of it dangling down hollow with nothing inside. At any rate, he didn't notice if they did. He didn't care. They had to be used to it. He kept his eyes trained on the ground, his thumb twiddling the business card in his left hand.

"Rann?"
He looked up, the person manning the counter called to him.
"It won't be much longer now, sir."
He smiled a fake smile and nodded, returning his gaze to the ground. He couldn't help but be bitter. He didn't know what he expected. He knew that he wouldn't be hailed as THE hero of the Confederacy. He didn't deserve that title anyway, who knows how many people actually died defending the planet. But he couldn't help but ask himself what it all meant? The AoC were gone, never intending to hold what they got anyway, so what did it matter? A terrorist attack for terrorists sake?

And there was the rage.

Rann never felt this angry, ever. Darkness, swelling within him. All this negativity, all this desire to cause pain to those that caused pain to him. It also helped drive him farther into his madness. With vivid recollection, Rann remembered what Darth Metus had done during the climactic stage of the battle. He remembered how absolutely overpowering the dark side was around him. He remembered wanting to scream from the horror he had felt, but being unable to. He remembered giving in, himself, to darkness. And he felt it still. What had happened at the Parade, what Metus had done, he was changed. Beyond losing an arm, Rann could feel it. It was dark. It wasn't significant, yet, but he could definitely feel it. It didn't help that he was being treated as a burden, or that he viewed himself as being left behind. Here he was, hopefully getting a replacement arm. And everyone he'd fought with were planets away, defending Talay or chasing Kaine Australis on Taris.

And here Rann was. Sitting in a nice, air conditioned room, twiddling a card, waiting to be seen by this man. He'd heard the name before in passing. Or was it just the last name? Malvern? He looked at the card. He'd heard Malvern before, and he heard of Dynetech. He sighed. It didn't matter. He wasn't about to look a gift mynock in the mouth. This man, this Asher, was supposedly going to help Rann return to normalcy, or as normal as one could be with a cybernetic arm.

The more he thought about it, the angrier he got. There had to be a catch, right? If not, why did he deserve this? If he did, why didn't he deserve more? But he doesn't, he's still alive. Why is he here, not getting revenge elsewhere? Cause he can't fight.

He breathed heavily, making a tsk noise in his mouth and shaking his head frustratingly. He stopped twiddling the card and placed his hand, and the card, on his head cradling it. He tried to calm down. This was the first step. First this, then he'd be right there fighting again. Well, he'd need to make a new lightsaber. He squeezed his eyes shut, trying not to get angry again. But that voice in his mind whispered to let go. That he deserved to go crazy, he'd earned it.

He squeezed his head tight with his one hand, trying to force the darkness from his mind, keep the horror from the forefront of his thoughts.

He hoped he wouldn't have to wait too much longer.

 

[Asher Malvern]

It was tuesday. He hated Tuesdays.

Why?

Because every Tuesday Asher was forced to see the result of men like him. Men who prized creating weapons of destruction instead of mechanizations of industry or medicine. He saw them. He saw the missing limbs, the shattered bones, the ruptured organs. He saw every bomb he'd ever created and the result of every blaster round he sold. Sure, Dynetech did not sell to any others but The confederacy, but in the galaxy there was someone just like Asher. A patriot who believed he was doing right by selling weapons to take lives. Maybe that was why Asher made sure he reserved his tuesdays for meeting with war wound patients personally. It kept him honest, reminded him of what he was.

A war monger.

He flicked the ashes of his cigarette into the ashtray beside him. His beard had gotten longer and flecked with white but he didn't care to trim it or dye it as he had in the past. The eyepatch over his right eye was even beginning to wear. How long had it been since he replaced the damn thing? Who knew.

"Doctor Malvern." A young Twi'lek woman walked in with an uncertain expression. She was a young girl and overly fond of Asher and could tell when he was in the pits. She walked over to him, smiling softly before gesturing to the ashtray. "I'll empty that for you. You have another patient, Doctor."

Asher glanced up at the young woman before nodding. "Then lets get him taken care of Amua." Asher said, matter of factually while Amua took the ashtray and dumped it into the trash on her way out. The yellow Twi'lek called out to the young man who was sitting in the waiting room. "Mr. Rann Thress , Doctor Malvern can see you now. This way, please." She said before ushering the man into Asher's office.

The office was actually more like a work lab than anything. Asher stood in the center, pulling out a number of devices and setting them on the counter beside him. He was an older man with a distinct presence in the Force. He looked over to Rann before gesturing to a stool just beside him. "Take a seat, son." He said, glancing over to the arm that had been damaged in the war. "I read your docket, a bit of it anyway. This happened during that mess with the Agents of Chaos?" He reaffirmed before walking over and grabbing what was left of the arm. "Nasty." He muttered, before speaking evenly. "I'll be your Doctor for the consulation, you can just call me Asher." Pulling his glasses out of his pocket, Asher took a scanner into his hands and waved it over Rann's forehead. "We'll check some vitals and then get to that arm. Now, can you tell me exactly how it happened, son?"

 

[Rann Thress]

R E P L A C E​

Rann Thress nodded, sighing with gratitude upon being called in to be seen. He was sure the wait wasn't as long as he brain seemed to want him to believe it was. But regardless of how long it actually took, Rann was thankful the wait was over. Rann entered the Office room and observed his surroundings. Quaint, humble. He liked it, surprisingly. No over abundance of self-congratulatory awards adorning all four walls. Simple, business as usual. A refreshing change of pace.

Rann sat in the stool that the man, probably Asher Malvern , if Rann had to guess, had offered him and observed the Doctor. He felt him through the Force, yet it seemed subdued. It seemed as if a fog surrounded Rann, and this man was a dim light in the distance. Rann tried to focus, to hone in on his presence within the Force and failed. Something was stopping him. Something was hindering him, unable or unwilling to allow Rann to see through the Force. This made Rann unable to gauge the man's strength and power inside the Force. It put Rann's mind on the defensive and he began assessing the Doctor as a threat.

Rann blinked, snapping himself out of that thought. This man was here to help, not harm Rann. Why did he have to know how strong this man was? It didn't matter. It shouldn't have mattered, yet to part of Rann, it did. He didn't understand. He took a deep breath and listened to the Doctor speak.

"I read your docket, a bit of it anyway. This happened during that mess with the Agents of Chaos?" he asked and Rann nodded in response, "Yeah."
The Doctor walked over and grabbed what was left of Rann's right arm, and Rann jumped slightly. He wasn't used to someone just grabbing him. Let alone grabbing his destroyed arm. He stared at the Doctor in surprise and disbelief as the Doctor told him he'd be Rann's doctor and confirmed his name as Asher. Rann felt it was kind of redundant, of course this man was his doctor. Why else would he have this Office?

Rann blinked again, looking around, a frown forming on his face. What was going on? What was this? This wasn't like him. What's happening?

Asher asked a question. "How it happened?" was all Rann caught. Rann scowled, remembering the day.

He had incapacitated this Twi'lek freedom fighter. Some Terrorist. He was bleeding, disarmed. Not a threat. You didn't kill him! he found his brain screaming at him. You tried to let him LIVE?

Rann found himself staring at the ground. Why didn't he kill him immediately? He gave him a chance to retaliate, and he did. People died because Rann didn't just kill his enemy. His left arm shook with rage.

"Some......Twi'lek terrorist. Decided to die and try to take me and how ever many others with him. I got lucky I just lost an arm and I just get the occasional headache."
As if on cue, his head started ringing. He placed his hand on his head, trying to will the pain away. It didn't work. Rann sighed, dropping his arm.

"When he...exploded. I raised my right arm to shield my eyes from the blast. On instinct, you know? I had... I had equipment in the armor I was wearing that could have tanked the force. That could have shrugged off the damage like it was nothing. But I panicked. The beast-Lylek I guess they're called- behind him was wounded. My fault. I threw my lightsaber at it and it was rampaging. I wasn't focused on him anymore. He was defeated. I..yeah. That's it. I don't want to start to ramble, sorry."

Rann could feel tears trying to fight their way to the surface and he willed them back. It was being fixed, he didn't have to be upset anymore.

Or maybe he did.

 

[Asher Malvern]

The moment Rann confirmed that the damage had been done by the Agents of Chaos the older man sighed. They were a group that idolized the very concept of random, unnecessary violence. Even in his more liberal days as a Jedi Asher found them detestable. Another reason he would continue to craft machines of war, instead of focusing his efforts in the medical field as he'd been considering. The man looked to Rann as he recalled the events from that day. While Rann spoke there was a noticeable spike in his blood pressure and the pace of his heart increased. Asher's eye moved from the scanner to the man with a curious look. The Dark Side of the Force was flocking to the man in waves, drawn by the anger and hatred he felt for those who had done him wrong.

Asher couldn't blame him. After reading his vitals Asher patted the man on the shoulder. "No, that's enough. Let's take a look at that arm." He said, before grabbing his chair and pulling it to Rann's side. Asher pulled his glasses to the top of his head while he looked over the flesh, almost searchingly. "Explosions leave the injury with certain traumas that can rule an appendage out for a prosthetic replacement." He pressed a thumb into the man's vein before whistling softly. "You came off lucky. It seems like your veins and nervous system are in tact a few inches above the wound." He said, his eyes moving to Rann's expression as he poked and pinched in certain areas. "If they were all dead, then a functional prosthetic would be out of the question. At best you could get a facsimile just so it appears you have an arm...but with what I see we should be able to give you a design for a new mechanical arm. It would essentially work and feel just like the arms you were born with. Maybe even better." He said, muttering the final part.

Asher pulled his glasses off, tossing them on the desk beside him while looking over to Rann. "I can give you a level one prosthetic reinforcement mount. Let me explain how that works. Often, a full permanent prosthetic arm can actually increase the damage to the wound. Dynetech developed a prosthetic mount. It's a small glove that will be latched onto your wound for about a year. It's only a few inches in size, but it will inject your wound with specialized bacta to strengthen the nervous system and prepare it for an actual prosthetic. Now, we can attach a temporary prosthetic arm that will function perfectly, but this will only be a temporary arm. Think of it like a practice run. If your wound handles the prosthetic mount and arm well for a few months then we can attach a permanent arm in it's place."

"Would you like to see some designs?" He asked.

Rann Thress

 

[Rann Thress]

R E P L A C E​

Rann listened to Asher Malvern as he spoke, paying close attention to what he was saying. He didn't think at all there was a chance a prosthetic would be unviable. In today's world, he thought for sure a prosthetic replacement was just to be expected. He winced visibly when Asher pressed into his stump, surpressing the minuet urge to attack the man in retaliation. He felt anger emanating from him. He felt his skin go hot in response to the slight pain. He needed to relax, he needed to let his guard down. He wasn't in danger here, so why did he keep feeling as if a fight was standing barely a foot away from him? He took a deep breath, trying to center himself.

He counted his lucky stars mentally listening to Asher speak. If he couldn't get a functioning replacement he thought he'd rather just go armless all together. A fake, non functioning arm would get in the way. And it'd be a lie to boot. He shook his head, just happy he didn't have to deal with that at all and he'd get a fully functioning replacement.

He couldn't help but smile, catching what Asher said last about the arm probably being better then his real one. "I know someone who'd be overjoyed to see a new robotic arm on me." he said. It felt good to smile, it seemed like he hadn't in years. His mind cleared a little, his shoulders slumped. One little act, one little smile, a single action of positivity and suddenly he was calm and relaxed. Not happy, sure. Given the circumstances, but relaxed nonetheless.

He couldn't help but be a little disappointed when Asher told him the arm he'd leave here with today wouldn't be his permanent arm. He disliked medical offices and would rather not return once he left, but it seemed unavoidable. He nodded, indicating he understood what the mount was and it's function, and that this arm he'd get would only be temporary. And he shrugged and nodded when asked if he'd like to see some designs.

"Sure, let's take a look at the options here. I gotta be honest though, I don't really care if the arm has any bells and whistles on it. If it looks like a normal arm, moves like a normal arm, and works like a normal arm that's good enough for me. In fact, I'd probably end up covering it in a glove or something anyway. I did have some questions though. Or one question, rather. Can I channel the Force through the prosthetic? Or would it be completely void of the Force?" he asked.

He wondered if he'd be able to use Force Cloak with this arm, or if he'd just be a floating mechanical arm to anyone who looked at him while cloaked. ​

 

[Asher Malvern]

When Rann said he was ready to proceed into his options Asher glanced over at the man and stood up from his chair. "Channeling the Force?" He asked the man before running a hair over his bearded chin. "I can make a modification to the model that will allow you to channel the Force through it. Though...I'm not entirely sure you will be able to use it, as broken as you are." He said simply. The Force within the man was a mass current of shattered emotions and uncontrolled power. He was strong in the Force, yet his control over it had been shaken and Asher could see that clearly.

"Anyway. There are three models, the first is our most common. It comes with a phrik overlay so it can take an extreme amount of punishment. The mass produced models have a titanium body, but for you I'd just go with a total phrik source. It will feel lighter than the arm you have now which will take some getting used to. It will have a repulse ignition within it giving it a sonic pulse cannon in the palm as well as some other features like a comlink, a datascreen, and a compartment for a code cylinder. It's basic but will get the job done and packs a few punches."

"The next one will be a bit different." He said, as a screen came up showing the first arm which was a sleek metallic design. The next one popped up almost immediately, slightly bulkier. "Another phrik overlay to keep it in tact, but it also comes with a durasteel compound. The mechanisms in this arm make it possible of lifting almost four times what you'd normally be able to. It's more like an integrated droid arm that also has a vibro-razor fin embedded along the back of it. Strong, dangerous, but if you break it then you'll be in for a world of pain."

He flipped on the last image which was a much more cybernetic looking appendage. "And this monster is the bane of most codebreaker's lives. I won't even bother telling you what all this thing does. But some of it's highlights are a shield bypass, a stealth field generator, an encryption network, and a few other goodies if you're looking to be an accomplished slicer." He said, before looking to Rann. "So, what will it be? And if you don't like the metallic look I can add a flesh cover. It will look just like a regular arm then. Or if you prefer I can give them a generator that creates the appearance of a normal arm, for formal occasion and such." He said, turning the monitor off.

Rann Thress

 

[Rann Thress]

R E P L A C E​

"Make it work. I'll make me work." Rann said.

He chose to not believe what Asher Malvern was saying. Rann would make the force obey him again. He would return stronger, not lesser, because of this ordeal. He listened intently on the three models Asher had on offer for him.

The first arm seemed like too much for him. He wanted an arm that felt similar to the one he had lost, not a wholly unique feeling. And the pulse cannon built in felt like Overkill. Rann would prefer a simple arm to this. He'd feel like a weapon with a body attached. He couldn't help but scoff when Asher described it as "basic". This thing seemed like the premium package, he shuddered to think what more there could be to an arm.

The second arm sounded more up to Rann's speed. But again, a bit too much. It didn't seem like Rann. And the arm felt like too much. The ability to lift way outside of his normal amount would be nice, sure. But if he had this arm he'd want to put it in danger. And didn't much like the thought of it causing him more trouble or hassle if anything were to happen to it.

The third arm, however, sang to Rann. It seemed like too much, sure. It seemed way more intricate then he'd need but the bells and whistles this one provided were right up his alley. The thing that grabbed him was the Stealth Field. A shield bypass function on it seemed to be another extreme positive. The rest of the functions flew over his head. They were something he wasn't too familiar with, but he knew a girl who could help him learn all of that.

"I think," he said after a few minutes deliberation, "I think I'm gonna like to hear more about what option three can do. I'm liking the sound of that one in particular. And If you make it appear more structured like a regular human arm, that'd be sufficient. I don't want to walk around with a fake arm, you know? I'll hide it under a glove. But I don't just want to pretend I never lost my arm. I lost it. Losing it is a part of me now."


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