Got Issues? (Judah Dashiell)

[Doctor Zendu]

Session #1

Location: Doctor Zendu's Private Practice, Belasco.

Doctor Robert Zendu was carefully finishing up some paperwork on his last patient, a very interesting half-human, half Rakghoul who was being tortured by his memories, when he suddenly realized that he had a back-to-back appointment with another patient. Cursing softly, he plucked the patient file from an obsessively neat stack of papers on an even neater desk, perusing the basic information his receptionist had gleaned from a preliminary Holo screening.

Name: Judah Dashiell
Age: Twenty-something
Occupation: Unknown
Species: Human

The man had mentioned "underlying issues," but there were no notes in the margins about the nature of them. The xenopsychiatrist usually liked to have a bit more information to go on before he started a session, but he supposed this would have to do. Good receptionists were so hard to find.

Standing up from his desk, the doctor straightened his tie and smoothed out his tweed jacket. He peeked his head out of his office door and, clutching Judah's file closely to his chest, looked into the waiting room to see if his patient had arrived.

"Judah Dashiell?"

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]



Judah sat in the office on Belasco, reading through a holomagazine entitled Galactic Business Times : Expansion Region Edition. Adjusting his tie, Judah absent mindly browsed over an article containing the finer points of trade routes through the system. It was dry but it was something to read. He was fairly certain some large sentient creature just walked out of the office. Frankly he was too absorbed in his own little world to be paying attention to much else. Judah had given an excuse to his wife , [member="Thessa Kai"] , why the trip was going to take a little extra longer. She didn't need to worry. Hell, it wouldn't surprise him if the Galan had put trackers on the Sirena, Not that she didn't trust him. Perhaps a little too curious. Or maybe overprotective. Judah liked to think overprotective.


Semi-shaggy head popped up from the holomagazine at the sound of his name. Folding it back in place, Judah left the item on the couch next to an elderly Rodian woman who seemed a little worse for wear. Standing up, Judah smoothed out his suit jacket and walked over to the doctor, extending his hand in a friendly gesture. Probably still a little too involved in business mode.


"Doctor, thanks for fitting me in."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

Smiling broadly at his new patient, Doctor Zendu heartily shook his hand. He gestured to the Holo mag he'd been browsing through. "Ah, you have good taste in reading. I especially liked the article about the new Naboo trade initiatives in that issue." His eyes thoroughly looked over the handsome blue-eyed man. "I presume you've left your weapons with my receptionist?" At that the receptionist in question, a young Sullustan with very bad body odor just gave a grunt. The doctor shot the Sullustan a glare, and then looked back to Judah with a tight-lipped smile.

"If so, then please come on into my office. You can sit anywhere you like. Most patients prefer the Hover sofa. They find that reclining helps them gather their thoughts. As you're getting settled maybe you can tell me a bit about why you've come to see me today."

He widened the door and, still clutching the patient file tighly to his chest, ushered Judah into his office.

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


"I didn't get to that, too focused on the trade routes. As for weapons, I don't carry any on me." Judah immediately patted his pockets down, making sure he didn't have a pocket knife of the like. All he came up with was a pen in his breast pocket. Taking it out, he set it on the receptionist's desk, just in case. Certainly a patient not in their right mind could stab the good Doctors eye out with a pen or something similar. Judah was fairly confident he wouldn't be having such outbursts though.


"Not one for lounging Doctor." Judah didn't like to sprawl out on sofas, even at home. Instead he went to the hover couch but sat in a causal manner, facing what he presumed was the chair of the psychiatrist. At the very least he was comfortably seated. The salvager CEO was quiet for a long moment, even as the door was shut and it was the two men left alone.


"I've had some trouble handling an event that is in my past. Nightmares, seconding guessing, wild emotions on the entire event. I should be over it by now but....I don't know. There are good days and bad days in regards to it. More good than bad now....its just....."


"Its just the fact the event is still that fresh despite the length time passed."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

The doctor placed his patient file neatly on his desk, making sure the edges were meticulously lined up with edges of the papers underneath and grabbed a little black book. Plucking a pen from the front pocket of his jacket, he sat opposite Judah with crossed legs. He jotted down a few preliminary notes and then raised his head to his new patient with a concerned look.

"First of all, Judah I want to congratulate you for your brave step in seeking treatment. There's no need to suffer in isolation..." The psychiatrist placed a hand on his own chest. "...when there are those of us in the medical profession who can lend a hand. I treat many patients for symptoms like the ones you describe. The important thing when thinking about a traumatic event is to remember that what happened to you isn't a flaw in your personality or character. It's something that happened to you, not who you are. That is something I tell all trauma survivors."

He jotted down a few more notes and pushed his glasses up on the bridge of his nose, looking deeply into the man's blue eyes. "Could you describe the event in question for me?"

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]



"You know Doc, thats real easy to say. One of those things that sound better in theory rather than practice." Shifting on the couch, Judah paused, not wanting to particularly retell the tale. Then again, it was hard to get advice when the other party had no idea what was going on or why exactly he was here. "Yeah, I'll give you a condensed version."


"Anyways, remember that nanodroid invasion that happened awhile back? You might not, some were lucky enough to lay low on the radar. At the time, I was a fighter pilot for the Republic. A poor one. I spent more time playing mechanic or chief snubfighter polisher rather than flying. The night it happened most of my squadron went out for a bit of a celebration for one of the fellow pilots."


Judah stepped out into the slightly cooler air outside the bar on Coruscant. Pulling a cigarette out of the inner pocket of his military uniform, it was soon lit and a the man took a deep drag. Shaggy hair feel briefly near his eyes, quickly brushed out of the way. Back in the open doors of the bar, laughter and general rowdiness of the group of assembled pilots could be heard. Drinks were flowing and using their charms several of the guys had acquired a small group of 'admirers' to join the little party. Finishing up, Judah flicked the butt to the ground and walked back in. This was entirely new to him. A farmboy released on his own into the Galaxy. A round of drinks had been ordered at their spot. Grabbing a glass, the crowd began a sloppy toast to the guest of honor.....


"....So we were out drinking like idiots. I was young, I had never even set off my homeworld before joining the Republic. Anyways, I partake in the fun going on around me. I don't know if I was so drunk someone injected something into me or if I swallowed it or...I'm not sure. That part is very fuzzy due to the evening's events. I get infected with these little mind control nanite things. Apparently a lot of folks were. We were in a firefight and I remember leaving my squadron to go where these little nanites were commanding me to go."


"Most of what I did, I catch in bits and pieces. I am acutely aware I killed innocent civilians, that I do remember flashes of. So this goes on for an unknown time period. Not long. It feels like I am out of my own body and its all hazy. Or dim. Or surreal. Somehow I get onto this transport vessel and start an attack. Republic forces are nearby and they've figured out some EMP to stop the nanites temporarily. So there I am, I get stabbed in the hip and then stunned repeatedly by my Squadron Captain, [member="Thessa Kai"] . So with the EMP, there are some moments of clarity. I am sort of myself while the things are deactivated. Next thing you know, I'm knocked out."


Sore muscles protested the slightest movement. Judah shifted on the hard mattress, a thin blanket and sheet covering him. For some reason he is clad in odd-looking pajamas. Shivering slightly, Judah observed his surroundings. Plain, very institutional. A desk was shoved against one corner near a sliver of a window. Voices carried on throughout the hall, muffled by the walls and closed doors. Running a hand through thick curls, legs came to swing over the bed. Shakily and painfully, Judah hobbled over to the silver of a window. It overviewed a park-like setting, with people in the same odd-looking pajamas as himself walking around. It slowly dawned on him. Psychiatric hospital.


"When I awake again I'm in a psychiatric hospital. I think the Republic put me in once the nanites were deactivated and removed. I stay for a very short period of time, until my Flight Captain came and sprung me. She took me back to her apartment, looked after me. Patched me up a bit. Worked hard to get me less afraid of droids. I was extremely scared of them at that point. It worked, I build droids now. That Flight Captain is now my wife and we have an amazing son together. Most of my recovery I owe to her."


"Yet....it still haunts me. The event changed me. If I didn't get infected, I might have never left the Republic. My now-wife would have never took me to her apartment to take care of me.I wouldn't have my son. I wouldn't own a major corporation. In fact, I would probably still be with the Republic, demoted to flight mechanic. All this good is built on bad."


"I killed those people. What do I get in return? A loving family. Wealth. Once in the lifetime experiences. Sometimes I just feel like....I built this on the blood of the innocent. They died for nothing. I was the one who did it, infected or not."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

Furiously scribbling notes in his little black book, the psychiatrist paused only to raise his head with a nod and give his patient a tight-lipped smile. He didn't remember the invasion of which Judah spoke. There were so many galactic news events to follow over the last few years, that the doctor often lost track unless one of them directly affected his patients.

Once Judah had finished his story, the doctor placed his notebook on his lap and folded his thin hands on top of it. "I can imagine why you marinate in your own guilt over those horrific events. The important thing to remember is that, even though it might not feel like it, the nanites merely used you as a vessel." The doctor stood up and crossed to his desk, picking up a spherical glass paperweight, its insides filled with a small scale model of the Bright Jewel system.

"If I happen to load this paperweight with powerful explosives and use it to, say, blow up this Belasco skytower, one can hardly blame the paperweight. Correct?" He lightly tossed the paperweight to the man. "I'd like you to keep that paperweight, Judah. When you start thinking black thoughts about that time, it might ground you to gaze into the paperweight and remember our therapy session." Doctor Zendu took his seat and poised his pen for more note-taking.

"A few more questions. How often are you having these 'bad days' when you can't let go of thoughts such as this? And the nightmares? How frequent are those? Also are there any specific triggers that are present in your life which transport you back to those dark events? I'm trying to get a sense of the severity of your mental state. It seems that right now talk therapy is the best course of action. However, there are some more controversial treatments we could explore eventually."

The therapist stopped abruptly, aware that he was rambling on and on. "But please, do continue."

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


Awkwardly, Judah caught the paperweight. It was beautiful, with the sector of the galaxy represented inside. Turning over the object a few times in his hands, Judah nodded slowly. He wasn't sure how much help it would be but maybe it would work. Maybe it wouldn't. It wasn't as if he had any great or brilliant ideas regarding the entire situation.


"Thank you. I'll try it out."


Eyebrow raised at the thought of 'controversial treatments'. Lab Ropo he was not. Respectfully though, Judah kept his mouth shut about the situation. No point arguing with the overly-excited Doctor about something that will quite possibly never come to fruition.


"Maybe once or twice a month, if that, for both the thoughts and nightmares. Nightmares seem to come when I'm stressed or tired. Nothing I can do about either two of those situations. I think my mental state is holding up decently. More of how to reconcile the problem of my feelings with the event." Judah shrugged slightly."Everything else I can deal with."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

The doctor nodded, carefully jotting down more notes as his patient elaborated. He then leveled his brown eyes at his patient and absently twirled his pen in his fingers. "To me, the nightmares signify how little you've processed your emotions surrounding these events. This will take some time. Reconciliation is a fluid thing, Judah. It's a long road and one that you will continue to travel down for the remainder of your life, but I believe in due time, it's possible for you to heal." He gave the man a toothy grin. "Adaptation and acceptance are two of the keys. A good support system is another."

"On that subject, could you tell me a bit more about your family life? In particular your relationship with your wife. Do you find that you can confide in your partner in your time of duress? Or do you try to hide your pain from her and put on a brave face?"

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


"Way to make a guy feel positive, 'the remainder of your life'. Not the cheery outlook I was hoping for." Judah was partially joking. It was a long road and had been a long road. He just didn't feel like dealing with these same issues when he was forty or sixty or beyond. Maybe in the next few years, if things stayed on the same trajectory, the issue would nearly be healed over, just leaving a scar.


"Family life? Uh....I'd say all-in-all we're a fairly 'normal' family. No real major issues." Judah paused to stretch a little, putting the paperweight next to him. "My relationship with my wife is better than ever. Thessa is my best friend, the port in the storm, my rock. I could go on and on, but I think you get the idea and I'm sure you don't want to be sickened by a love struck fool."


"As for confiding in her....Not about this. Everything else going on my life, yes. The subject is painful. I prefer not to drag her down into a terrible mood by talking about it. Sometimes I think her outlook about it is more accepting, more fluid like you mentioned. There's really not much of a point to talk about it together Doc. This is a 'me' problem, not a 'her and I' problem."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

At Judah's cynicism, Robert simply pressed his lips together in a tight smirk. "Traumatic events such as yours don't magically go away," he declared, and tapped his pen on his notebook as punctuation. "As your doctor I'm not going to sugar coat things for you."

He clapped his notebook shut and folded his thin hands on his lap. "Judah. I do think you're missing out on a valuable support system by not opening up to your wife, as laudable as your reasons are. Remaining closed off to the people you love can only hinder your path to healing. You should feel free to confide in her. In fact, I would be open to seeing the both of you in a couple's therapy scenario. You say that your problem is a 'you' problem, but as her spouse it does affect the both of you."

"I'm willing to bet that your wife would be glad that you opened the lines of communication?" The psychiatrist tilted his head inquisitively. "What do you fear by keeping things from her?"

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


"Couples' therapy?" Judah was balking at the idea. [member="Thessa Kai"] wasn't even aware he was here, let alone seeking advice on the past tramua. Judah was already opposed to the entire idea, especially because his little white lie would be revealed. Not exactly a rosy situation for him to think about. He could already picture the infamous Kai glare headed his way.


"Glad I opened the lines of communication? Doc, I'm far from mute. Are you married? Do you have a child or three? Do you know what its like? I come home, take over kid duties, help Thessa out with whatever domestic task. During that time, getting in adult conversation is premium. She's been at home all day with a guy who likes to drool and spit up. So when we do get a chance to have a real conversation, I sure as hell ain't wasting it on nightmares about nanites."


"I have nothing to fear, she already knows everything.Its not like this is some big secret waiting to be revealed to her. I prefer the time I have with her to be focused on the positive instead of the negative."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

The doctor was caught off guard by Judah's sudden hostility, but he was used to his therapy sessions bringing out strong emotions in his patients, so his outburst was par for the course. Scratching down a few more notes, Doctor Zendu answered his patient's question with a shake of his head.

"I'm not married myself, no. Nor do I have children." He paused, momentarily reflective, then spoke up again. "But I do treat many families. In my experience, the more open they are with one another, the happier they are." The doctor shrugged his bony shoulders. "However, I understand your time with her is precious." He wasn't going to press the issue as it seemed to be a non-negotiable one with Judah.

"May I ask you a question? Did you ever find out who was responsible for this nanite attack on you? Or did I miss it in your earlier re-telling?"

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


Letting the Doctor drop the subject, Judah nodded a little. Stretching his legs out in front of him, it took a second to answer the question. He was racking his memory banks for a name. Brow furrowed and he looked back at the man with the notepad.


"Yes, Omni....I think it was. It started with an 'O', I know that for sure. Some evil guy turned semi-famous for his fifteen minutes of fame I suppose. Not sure what happened to him though. Haven't heard much since the event, not that I go looking."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

The doctor nodded his head gravely with that now familiar expression of deep, unending concern on his face. "It does sound like you have closure over the event, which makes your nightmares a bit more curious." At the last word, he tapped his pen on his notebook. Doctor Zendu adjusted his glasses and leaned forward in his chair, resting his elbows on his knees, looking squarely at his patient.

"If it's only nightmares that you're having, we could go back to discussing those experimental treatments I mentioned before. The first one I'd only recommend if your nightmares are so severe they're interfering with your daily functioning. The treatment is a cybernetic implant that nullifies the lower part of your brain that causes REM sleep and therefore controls dreams."

He began pacing around the room, clearly excited by the topic at hand. "There's also a new drug that's being developed by the psychiatric community. It's made from the pineal gland of the nightmare demon, a fascinating creature who was once on the brink of extinction and drives its victims mad with nightmarish hallucinations. Anyway, that part isn't important. What is important is that this new drug does something similar to the implant only there's no surgery involved. You have to keep taking it or else you get side effects, but the first rounds of clinical trials have been shown to have very positive results."

He stopped in front of Judah and gave him an enormous grin. "Are you interested in pursuing those treatments or would you rather stick with traditional talk therapy? The therapy will take alot longer, but it should eventually have the same effect as the treatments."

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


Judah blinked stupidly. He felt a bit like a laboratory womp rat. Implants were out, too nano-like. Experimental drugs weren't his thing either. What type of side effects? He didn't wish to go mad. Or things to grow worse. Or have some odd side effect, like only being able to drive a speeder so long as a spoon was held aloft in his left hand. Like the weird birth control [member="Thessa Kai"] was offered, Judah remained highly skeptical. Let this nightmare demon help others. The risks looked to outweigh any benefits.


"Considering it only happens once to twice a month, I will pass. Save it for your difficult cases Doc. Guess I'm stuck with talk therapy."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

An almost imperceptible sneer crossed the doctor's face as Judah rejected the more controversial treatment he suggested. Doctor Zendu had been eager to finally try the drug out on one of his own patients in order to witness its effects first-hand. After a minute, the psychiatrist's face returned to an expression of neutral concern. He didn't want to alienate Judah after all. The doctor appreciated having a patient whose education level seemed to more closely match his own. It also didn't hurt that the CEO was easy on the eyes.

"Fine," Zendu said, and realizing that it sounded huffy, added, "What I mean is, talk therapy will be just fine for us, Judah. A diagnosis is preliminary at best at this point in our treatment but I believe that you are suffering from PSTD. There could be other issues as well, but we will find those out eventually."

Doctor Zendu glanced at his chrono. "I'm afraid our hour is up. If you start to get distressing thoughts before our next session, remember what I told you about the paperweight." He pointed at it with his pen. "In our next session we can talk about a few more grounding techniques that will help you with your PSTD."

Brushing off his jacket as he stood, the doctor walked to his office door and opened it for the man. "Until next time?"

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


Huh. It is true. All these psychotherapists need therapy of their own.


Remaining neutral, Judah stood up, grabbing the paperweight as he did so. He'd have to figure out which desk to stick it on -- home office or the HQ office. Probably home, seemed like a more appropriate spot. Stretching a little, Judah nodded at the diagnosis. Interesting but he would let things progress and go from there. As much as it would be nice to be rid of something, Judah felt like playing it safe. This was his mental sanity after all.


Judah reached out with his free hand and shook the Doctor's hand. "Until next time. Thank you."

 

[Doctor Zendu]

Session #2

Location: Doctor Zendu's Private Practice, Belasco.

Doctor Robert Zendu, Xenopsychiatrist, was just finishing a fascinating scientific journal about Gotal head cones, which the alien species used in sensing everything from energy emissions of predators to the amount of physical attraction from the opposite sex, when the alarm on his chrono softly pinged, signaling his next appointment. Quickly hunching over his desk to check his calender, the doctor smiled at the name of his next patient. Since his last appointment consisted of calming down a spice-addicted Chiss who could barely string a sentence together, the psychiatrist was looking forward to his second session with the erudite businessman, Judah Dashiell. The man had his problems, but he was a good conversationalist, and it was a quality many of his patients lacked.

The workaholic doctor didn't often socialize with many people, much less patients, but he felt like Judah was the type of man that he could actually be friends with. He had to admit that if the man were not married with children, he'd possibly even ask the handsome businessman out on a date.

He strode to the door and welcomed Judah inside, a bit less formal now that he had one session with the man under his belt. Doctor Zendu smiled broadly at Judah, gesturing to his now familiar white Hover couch.

"Welcome back, Judah," he said. Tell me about how life has been treating you since our last session."

[member="Judah Dashiell"]

 

[Judah Dashiell]

[member="Doctor Zendu"]


Why he was back, Judah had no idea. Follow through? It seemed like one of those things he could easily skip out on, never come back. Maybe it was a waste of fuel and credits. After all, the Doctor seemed really keen on making some experimental womp rat for various drugs on the market. Drugs weren't his thing. Nor alcohol. Must be some type of deep seated farm boy ethic lying in his bones.


Nodding, Judah took a seat in a sitting position on the hover couch. Reclining wasn't his thing. Getting comfortable, socks with a half-naked mermaid peeked out from underneath his gray suit trousers. Shoulders squared, he looked about the office. Didn't look any different. No weird experimental drugs sitting on the desk. No pickled brains from half-demented patients.


"I would say my life is basically the same as our last visit. Nothing exciting or out of the ordinary."