Outside Turning In

[Kuzo]

Sender: [member="Munin"]
Recipient: Irajah Ven

Re: Gap Nine

You asked me to contact you if anything came across our system that related to the outpost. I have attached a particular file that may be of interest to you. It's not quite like Gideon, but there are some strange similarities that seemed intriguing. It may mean nothing. Feel free to contact me if you decide to investigate.

****

Sender: Irajah Ven
Recipient: Munin

Re: You got a name?

That *is* interesting. I don't think it's related though. But can you get me a name? I'd like to contact them. They might be able to help me with something I'm working on.

****

Sender: Munin
Recipient: Irajah Ven

Re: Like you even have to ask

Sending it along. But, I don't know if she's likely to help. Not a lot of info. Contact me if you are going to go- don't think it's the kind of place to go alone.

****

Sender: Irajah Ven
Recipient: Munin

Re: How do I pronounce this last name? Seriously?

Promise I won't go alone. Just going to reach out and see if we can talk. Thank you. I've transferred your fee to the account from last time.

****

Sender: Munin
Recipient: Irajah Ven

Re: It's not that hard

It's pronounced 'Shien-hu'. That'll be an extra hundred credits.

​****

​Sender: Irajah Ven
Recipient: Munin

​Re: I can't tell when you're joking

​If I use the pronunciation, I'll transfer it immediately

​****

Of course, Irajah was going to go alone. This wasn't the kind of thing she needed a baby-sitter for, she figured. After her last consult on Panatha, she'd had enough to purchase a ship of her own. Not that she was going to pilot it of course. But it hadn't been hard (and surprisingly inexpensive) to purchase a fifth degree pilot droid. It didn't have a name, or any trace of personality, but she called it 'Om', and it didn't seem to mind one way or the other.

What better way to break in the new (used) ship and droid?

Planning a trip to Maena, where she had arranged a meeting with [member="Matsu Xiangu"], of course. Irajah knew nothing about the planet, and only very slightly more than the researcher she was taking the trip to visit. But it didn't concern her. There were more important details to keep her mind occupied.

All of the information available (scrubbed of any reference to Irajah, or her father, Simon Ven) about Project Gideon had been condensed on to a single, slim data pad.

A curling concern roiled in her abdomen- and she knew it wasn't the virus itself. This would be the first time she was deliberately consulting another professional about the details of this disease. Of her disease. She still didn't know if she would divulge that particular piece of the puzzle yet. But the idea that she might was enough to make her nauseous. She spent the passage alternating between pacing, reorganizing the information on the pad, and losing at holochess to the ship's computer.

It was a very long trip to Maena.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

​

The information on the virus, scant and tantalizing as if to entice her, had been nothing short of fascinating. She’d scrolled through it quickly over morning caf and upon realizing what she’d been given a snippet of, promptly went back to reread it. Sitting back with her datapad, legs crossed primly, she looked out over the hellish landscape below from the bank of floor-to-ceiling windows she so favored. Matsu had no shortage of people contacting her in matters of business, war, and groveling. But this was unique and though she’d changed much since her childhood, she still retained that sense of overwhelming curiosity that had her propping her datapad in her lap so that she might respond.

SENDER: Matsu Xiangu
RECIPIENT: [member="Irajah Ven"]

Re: Gideon

I am very interested in speaking with you in regards to the information you’ve sent along. Fascinating reading. You can find me on Maena, coordinates attached.

____________________​

Maena had once been verdant, another green sphere in a system flush with arboreal planets.
And then They had come.

Once she and [member="Darth Prazutis"] had finished their work on the planet’s surface not a trace of what had been before existed. Most of the surface had been glassed, giving way to hardly habitable stretches of volcanic ruin. Overturned crust of the earth reached for the sky like fingers clutching for salvation, deadly magma flows marching through endless streams and rivers. Much of Maena had once been a city spanning half the planet, an ecumenopolis on par with Coruscant until the Darths had seen fit to crush it beneath their heels. Part of it had been spared if only so Matsu might create the labs and buildings in which she now conducted her research. Other parts of the planet had been preserved for storage and experimentation in to the necromantic arts, a passion she shared with Prazutis on a level she hadn’t found in anyone else. If there was a place that resembled hell somewhere in the galaxy, Maena would have been it. And not a single soul remained to speak of what it had looked like before. Matsu and Braxus had seen fit to wipe every soul from the surface, a hideously efficient machine of war that crushed the earth until the last rodent had been pulled from its hiding place.

The tragedy of their genocide seemed to have changed the planet, the Dark Side curling inwards like gravity - a wall, a wound, a nexus that threatened to swallow the ship that appeared in the sky.

“Please proceed to Landing Pad Four,” came a voice smooth like glass over the speaker systems of the arriving vessel once its purpose had been confirmed. The planet, though seemingly void of movement on the surface, was militaristic once one came closer to the surface - if they got that far. Chosen precisely for its distance from the Core so as to stay far off the radar of the galaxy at large, Maena was protected by spatial anomalies, ground-to-air shielding and defenses, and a heavily militaristic presence designed to fight off unwanted intrusion.

And on Landing Pad Four, high above the river of magma part of the city was built over on one of the tallest buildings remaining on the planet, stood Matsu. Hair sleek and straight down her back, it tossed over her shoulders as Dr. Ven’s ship rotated down to the landing pad. For all her proclivities, the Atrisian woman had a weakness for designer, her perfectly cut white suit and expertly painted lips evidence enough as she waited. She might even have appeared entirely normal save for her surroundings, her glowing amber eyes, and the scarring along both cheeks from the wound she’d sustained during her invasion of Dromund Kaas. Once, her eyes had been nearly black, but her use of Sith sorcery made it impossible to hide the Force’s corruption. She lived up to her Darth name - Yaomo - with demonically high features sharp enough to cut glass.

She stepped forward when the deck dropped from the vessel, greeting the doctor with an outstretched hand.

“Dr. Ven, welcome to Maena. I’m Matsu Xiangu. I trust navigating the sinkhole above atmosphere wasn't too troublesome.”

She turned on her sharp heels, walking alongside Irajah as a spider might test the edges of her web.

 

[Kuzo]

Shien-hu. [member="Munin"] was right. She'd wire him that hundred credits later.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"] was not exactly what Irajah had been expecting. But then, Irajah usually wasn't what others were expecting either, so she didn't make comment on it. It was at best amusing (and rarely was it at best) to have people so surprised by her appearance when they were expecting something else.

"A pleasure, Ms. Xiangu," she replied. She had to juggle the data pad to the same hand that was carrying a slim case before shaking the other woman's hand. "And no trouble at all, your directions were impeccable."

She fell in to step beside the other woman. Her own attire was much more simple and conservative- A chocolate brown belted tunic, high necked and long sleeved that covered her from chin to the middle of the back of her hands. Pale green leggings were tucked in to short boots. Dark curls framed her pale face, perhaps a touch more drawn than usual, but she had a carefully arranged 'professional' smile curved lightly on her lips.

Hazel gaze flickered over to her companion as they moved in swift, intentional tandem.

"I am very curious as to what happened here, however," she said, her tone conversational. The landscape had been impossible to miss. Stunning, but not in the way most people usually meant that word. Striking, certainly. "Some sort of natural disaster?"

It was casual conversation. There was no guile, no attempt to pry. Just simple curiosity.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

“Matsu, please,” she said with a smile revealing impeccable new teeth. Though she spent the majority of her time alone, she loved the game of conversation. Once she’d been Coruscant’s Empress, a One Sith representative flitting through the most active social circles imaginable. A stranger was always welcome, where she was concerned - at least for as long as they were amusing.

The doctor was slighter and slimmer than Matsu - a rarity, the Sith Lady found, but hardly unwelcome. If her own experience had taught her anything however, it was that size had nothing to do with ability...or potential danger.

“A disaster, yes,” Matsu said, a casual laugh escaping her, surprisingly warm. “Though, it’s debatable whether or not it was natural.” She hadn’t meant to be cryptic right off the bat as it didn’t foster a sense of well-being from her companions, but admitting to killing the populace herself would also not make Dr. Ven feel at ease. At that, Matsu very, very gently reached out for Irajah’s mind. It was not invasive, merely an added measure to gauge the other woman by.

As if to save Matsu from her cryptic answer, a Togruta woman approached the pair as they entered the suite of offices in which Matsu received the very rare guest to Maena. “Excuse me my Lady, but I have taken the liberty of providing refreshments. Please let me know if I can be of any more assistance.”

“Yes, very well,” Xiangu replied, a little nonplussed by her new employees earnestness but otherwise grateful for the red wine that had been left out on the glass coffee table in her suites. “Please, have a seat,” she said to Irajah, motioning to the couches as she took a seat herself, crossing her legs primly. Her metal fingers clinked against the glass as she picked up her wine.

“So, I must admit I’ve never seen anything quite like the pieces you sent me of this Gideon. What exactly is it that you’d like my assistance with?”

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

On the shoal of Irajah's mind, there would be just a perplexed curiosity at that answer. It floated like oil on the surface of an uneasy sea, superficial and slick. The waters beneath however roiled with something deeper.

It was, of course, what she was here to speak with [member="Matsu Xiangu"] about. It made brushing past the surface curiosity easy, especially when the other woman cut so quickly to the chase. In truth, Irajah had very little interest in just about anything else at this moment. Slowly growing, the word echoing in her mind had grown more and more tangible. She couldn't ignore it, or fully deny it- but she had not yet come to terms with it either.

Project Gideon.

No longer a tiny shadow, it loomed over her, every waking moment. And asleep? It was even worse. Every time she turned, there it was, waiting like a breath held beneath gelid waters. It had reached the point where it burned- where the body could no longer wait on the off chance that it would breathe in something besides frozen liquid. If she held her breath any longer, she would drown.

She settled lightly on to the edge of the couch across from Matsu. Despite the deep circles beneath her eyes, there was a barely constrained energy in every movement she made. She did not sit back and relax- she perched. Reaching out, she accepted a glass of wine as well, though did not sip from it just yet as she composed her response to the other woman's question.

"I am hoping to find a cure." It was blunt, straight forward. But then, that was often Irajah.

"Project Gideon was a catastrophe, Matsu. One with potentially serious repercussions. At the moment, it is contained...." She trailed off, clearly struggling for a moment. This was clearly more than simply a professional quest. Irajah couldn't hide how personal this was, even if she tried. "But I am afraid that another incident such as the one I mentioned in my initial message to you could happen again. All too easily."

The details originally had been scant. The virus, unleased accidentally on an unnamed planet. A single survivor. The message had not included the name of the planet, or indeed, the identity of the survivor. Simply that the survival was not due to genetics or medical intervention.

"If a cure is not possible, then perhaps there is some other way to suppress the virus in a host- some way to keep it from spreading through medical intervention-" she realized how strange that sounded and hurried on "If it could be caught early enough, of course. Even if the infected still perished- knowing that there was a way to stop the spread......" She trailed off, eyes a little distant before snapping back in to focus on the other woman. "Knowing that would be worth quite a bit."

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Just as she’d learned to read others, she’d learned to rule her own face. Expressions were funny things, even in a galaxy where hundreds of different species meant something different when they lifted their browbone. Often it wasn’t words but the lift of one corner of the mouth, the wrinkles around narrowed eyes that couldn’t be hidden. But Matsu was stone, and thank the Force because as Irajah spoke of a cure Matsu felt something like indignation curl in her stomach.

Whatever this Gideon was, it was marvelous. She’d laid awake after getting the transmission with it scant details and thought of just the kind of perfection its creator had envisioned. Time and technology had seen to stymie him, but Matsu had access to so much more. This woman in front of her had the medical training to see that such genius saw the light of day and yet she sought a way to control it? The beauty of disease was in its unfathomable, unstoppable tsunami, its ability to take over whole worlds unseen. Who were they to stop it? If it were up to her she would break a vial and watch it spread, study as it eradicated entire planets in its wake. So simple. So subtle. So effective. There was a beauty in its demolition a thousand times as effective as destroying worlds in fire.

And yet her face showed none of her fascination. True, she’d skipped the small talk but that was out of respect to a professional - they were here for a reason and time was precious.

“Tell me Dr. Ven - how is it contained currently? The medical history you sent me said nothing of medical or genetic intervention, no discovered medication or inherent immunity. Then how does this survivor do it?” She had an idea, but presumptions were not part of her resume.

The second part of Irajah’s explanation was...interesting. Matsu knew what her suggestion would be - inoculating one of the thousands of test subjects that languished in the floors lower down in her compound of horrors. To watch the disease spread, up close and personal without environmental influence, would be endlessly enlightening. And with that information, the right people could learn how to protect themselves and others. It wasn’t Matsu’s wish or intention, but for the moment she kept to herself. Pretending she wasn’t a monster was her greatest talent.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah breathed in deeply, letting it out again in a long, low whoosh.

"The Force."

She grimaced slightly, at how insufficient that answer was and then tried again.

"The virus works in a very specific fashion. It is a compound virus, amazingly large and complicated. It starts as an infection in the blood, where it hijacks red blood cells. It- breaks down the cell membranes, and the virus binds with the iron. The flood of cytoplasm from the destroyed cells pushes the even larger viral bodies into the internal organs. Which is about as unpleasant as it sounds. Once there, the virus seems content to not cleave just to red blood cells, and begins to break down the cell walls of the internal organs. Death seems to be caused by massive internal bleeding in healthy subjects, though high fevers tend take out those with already weakened systems first."

Her words were careful, precise. As a guest lecturer. Practiced. Too much so.

"The lone patient was able to use the Force to contain the virus in only one organ at a time. Every few days they are required to.... move, I suppose is the word.... the virus to another organ. The damage, of course, is already done. But when it is contained to a single organ at a time, it makes recovery possible. And by keeping it contained in that fashion, it prevents transmission as well."

It was a very clean description of what happened.

It left out all of the mess that it truly was. The pain of cell death. How every time the virus needed to be moved, it took energy, concentration and caused tiny internal bleeds all along the pathways it had to travel to reach a less affected organ. How the process was exhausting, painful, and enervating in ways Irajah had never before dreamed possible. The necessity of working in a hospital setting, simply to keep up with long term care needs.....

Very clean indeed.

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Often she was asked why, if it was within her power, she did not rip the information she wanted out of someone else’s mind. It would be expedient surely, so much less time wasted in the pursuit of knowledge and power. But she found the notion short-sighted. There were many reasons to be heavy-handed with her ability, but there were even more reasons not to.

Firstly, using her gift sparingly was the best way to ensure that enemies never truly knew what she was capable of. If they did not know the details of her power than they would either under or overestimate her, and either worked in Matsu’s favor. Secondly, the Dark came at a price. Her use of sorcery already consumed her and she was unwilling to wither away to a husk any faster than she had to. But, perhaps most importantly, rooting around in someone’s mind sometimes - whether consciously or unconsciously - caused a target to become guarded, elusive. Though she was exceptionally talented, there was always the slight chance that someone might feel her in their heads, and causing them to put up their walls was too great a risk. They would out themselves naturally, she found. When she had been young and just starting out in the galaxy, she’d simply sat and watched people come and go. That study served her even to this day, and even without her mentalism she caught the rote quality to the doctor’s explanation.

The Force. She supposed the idea wasn’t all that far-fetched despite her never having heard of anything quite so long-term or extensive. It had to be exhausting, the Sith Lord thought. She wondered if that use of the Force itself was damaging over the long-term, if the effects would be cumulative like those diseases where the cure was just as harmful as the sickness itself. It would take constant vigilance, and even then mistakes could be made. What kind of life would that person live, and what lengths would they go to to stop living it that way?

Her rapid wheel of thought suddenly halted, realization blooming in her mind.
Her fingers fluttered around the wine glass. She would have to tread carefully.

“A cure…” she murmured, considering her guest before continuing. “With a few samples, I could inoculate test subjects to study the progression of the disease on a larger scale and provide a space for you to do your own work as well. I have a few...terminal guests here who have donated their lives to science, a few of which have the Force and could possibly learn to isolate the pathogen as the survivor has. I would be happy to show you some of the facilities.” Whether Dr. Ven would find the idea of infecting others with something that was clearly personal in some way to her was going to be a hurdle, the chance of its spread a real issue though...no one really left Matsu's facility. But the real challenge would be explaining the rest of the camp-world to the doctor should her professional interest be piqued beyond her qualms.

Very clean indeed.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

"I will not deliberately infect someone to sate my curiosity."

Not long ago, she'd whispered that to [member="Connor Harrison"].

But even then, she had doubted- the barest shred. And the strangeness the two had discovered had set that idea upon the sand with the tide slowly moving in. It trembled with the precariousness of the footing.

Hazel eyes looked troubled as she held her wine glass, finally sipping from it, more for something to do than because she wanted to particularly drink. Slowly, she set the glass back down on the table, frowning slightly at [member="Matsu Xiangu"].

"You must understand my concern," she said slowly. "Even standard testing must be done under the most stringent of protocols. The biological protocols along are important, but additionally the need for security and a facility with the ability to keep the lab in question under negative pressure is paramount to the safety of everyone- And I stress, not merely the people who work at the facility, but potentially the entire planet. I will not cavalierly begin a series of tests without intense scrutiny of the protocols and must be put into place to assure the virus cannot be spread."

She blinked, spreading her hands helplessly.

"I am not saying that these facilities do not have those capabilities," she continued, her tone apologetic as she realized how what she was saying could have sounded. "On the contrary, the reason I approached you at all is because I believe you do possess that capacity. But isn't infecting the living.... premature? The only in depth studies of the virus are over 30 years old. I am hoping to replicate some of their findings first- from there I would expect to know which direction it must be taken.... whether.... live specimens are..... necessary."

Hesitant, yes. But not entirely against.

Irajah couldn't remember what it felt like to not be in pain. To sleep, peacefully, without the haunting images of a dead world. It wears down even the strongest, sharpest of edges. And Irajah had not been a paragon to begin with.

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

The ghost of a smile ticked up the corners of her mouth when Irajah firmly laid her concerns before Matsu. In a galaxy full of creatures ready to fall at her feet or tell her what she wanted to hear, she always found those who spoke their minds refreshing, to a point. And all of Ven’s concerns were valid. Therefore the Sith Lord nodded slowly, finishing her wine before standing and beckoning the doctor to follow her. “Of course. All well-founded concerns. Let me show you some of what we work with here on Maena and then you can decide for yourself.”

Though she kept her living quarters in the dead, hollow volcano in which a city was being built as they spoke, Matsu had arranged their meeting in the medical testing facility itself some distance from the construction of a new capital. She spoke as they walked.

“If you would rather be more conservative in your work, I understand. I sense that it is...personal, in some way for you. The work I do is both of interest to myself and my order, and therefore I am sometimes forced to bypass more controlled trials in favor of expediency,” she explained, trying to crawl under the light of Ven’s scrutiny for the time being.

They stepped out on to a lower risk ward, but even still the smell of hospital-grade disinfectant hit them in the face like a wall. There was a single door in to each of the rooms, some with an occupant and others empty. In some, patients were being attended by researchers clothed in all the standard precautionary equipment one might expect. “This ward is dedicated to patients with non-communicable disease, hence the more open floor plan. If you would allow it however, I would like to show you our High Isolation area as that is what is of interest to both of us at the moment.”

It was a while before they reached the correct area, a dizzying array of elevators and hallways for Dr. Ven to look down and observe to her heart’s content before they reached the foyer in front of the Isolation ward.

“If you don’t mind, we can just suit up before we enter. Not very fashionable I’m afraid,” she said, a ghost of her humor appearing as she pulled a watertight body suit roughly Ven’s size from the rack before finding one for herself. A respirator, face mask, shoe covers, and gloves later and they entered the quiet ward like ghosts. “Here we observe protocol for contact, droplet, and airborne transmission. Since we deal with both known and experimental pathogens we act as if all three are possible in one patient at all times. Each of the individual rooms are negative-pressure and smoke tests are performed daily. Our tools are disposable, as well as all utensils and other items provided to the patient. If a patient does not survive, the body is transported through a chute system to a cremation area so hallways and patient transfer areas are not exposed to the corpse.”

They stopped in front of a room in which two researchers were tending to a patient. One of them turned around, as if sensing the eyes of the Sith Lord on his back, and moved closer to the observation window. Pressing a double-gloved finger to the plastic sheeting over the comms button, his voice came out as a tinny replica. “Lord Yaomo, Subject 892 has expired. The direct cause is currently unknown.

“Scrub out. Dr. Ven and I will be in to have a look,” Matsu said, assuming a bit on her part surely but banking on the natural curiosity of someone in the medical profession.

As the two researchers began the arduous process of exiting the isolation room, Matsu looked to the doctor. “I am willing to give you space here to conduct your work, and anything else you might stumble upon in the future - my resources at your disposal. In return, I would ask for your secrecy in regards to the nature of what we do here, your expertise on the occasional case study, and your help in protecting this facility should it come under attack. I of course understand if you cannot answer now, but in the meantime...shall we?” she asked, gesturing towards the corpse in the isolation chamber.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah was uncharacteristically quiet as the pair moved through the facilities. Silent, yes, but intent. She absorbed every word spoken by [member="Matsu Xiangu"], all the while sharp hazel eyes took in each new level. She couldn't memorize the layout- nothing nearly that detailed, and eventually, she was as thoroughly lost within the bowels of the facility as one might expect. No, what she was processing was the amalgam- how every piece fit together as part of the whole, looking for chinks in the protocols or the containments themselves.

She didn't find a single one.

In fact, despite all of her concerns, she was impressed.

The lab being custom built for her on Panatha would be state of the art, designed to her specifications. But this was a completely different magnitude. And the lab there was for a very particular task- she had been unable to request certain features due to the limitations of her mandate there. Here, however, was everything she had been lacking, everything she needed to maybe crack the mysteries of Gideon.

Every time she found new answers, they only raised new, more disturbing questions. Perhaps this would be the opportunity to finally make progress against the tide.

She had no idea what epiphanies still lay in store for her, however.

Even through the face mask, her dark furrowed brow could be seen as she looked through the window into the isolation room. It reminded her of a particular instance on Coruscant. A dead end, as it turned out, chasing ghosts that weren't hers to chase. Had she known that at the time, would she still have perused it? After all, what was one mysterious death in a galaxy as violent and dark as this one?

Of course she would have. She couldn't have helped it if she tried.

Her voice came with the slight feedback of speaking through the respirator. A trace of doubt in her words, but they had nothing to do with the two of them heading through the initial stages of decom.

"That sounds more than fair- it sounds as if I am getting the better part of that bargain, to be completely frank. But what do you mean by 'protect' the facility? Surely you have security. I will make no bones about being utterly useless in any such capacity."

The frown in her voice was clear- but now, the frown wasn't for that conversation at all, but for the body the pair flanked. She glanced around for a patient chart.

"What was he being treated for?"

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Matsu spent most of her time around warriors. Reverance, a man for whom she felt the closest thing to life-long love she would ever know, was one of the greatest conqueror-Sith to ever grace the galaxy. Their partner Vrag was equally as formidable. Matsu’s son was forming in to a warrior in his own right. Darth Prazutis led armies of his own and crushed skulls as easily as tin cans. The Beast herself craved a battlefield quietly but assuredly, her dreams filled with the smell of war. And yet she saw the value of those who did fight in the traditional sense. She nodded when Irajah asked what it meant to ‘protect’ the Unit.

“That’s of no consequence. This facility is valuable both to myself and those that would use the information gathered here against me and my allies. Should the day come that the planet is attacked, you can protect this place by destroying its knowledge so my enemies cannot use it.”

There were no less than ten Sith Lords invested in Maena, and countless Knights and Acolytes. That the fortress-world was protected was not in question. But in some ways Matsu was practical and wanted all her bases covered. Believing she was invincible would only goad others in to testing that belief. She was no fool.

Turning her gaze down to the body between them, she contemplated how to answer. Thus far Dr. Ven had shown a propensity for facing the strange with an aire of calm practicality. Matsu saw no need to tiptoe around her. And yet it still didn’t seem prudent to drop what equated to a bomb just yet. The records for the patient were outside the room so as not to be exposed to the environment within the chamber, but Matsu didn’t need them. She had this patient memorized. He’d been special. His death was a disappointment but he could still be learned from.

Picking up a disposable scalpel, she talked as she worked. That Dr. Ven was free to examine at her leisure went unspoken. “He wasn’t being treated. He attempted to steal a shipment of organs my son was transporting, and we took him prisoner. He was infected with an airborne toxin a team of my scientists developed. Really new so I’ve no idea exactly how it works - certainly effective however,” she said casually as she peeled back the flaps of her neat y-incision to reveal an abdominal cavity blackened by the beginnings of necrosis. That seemed an obvious ultimate cause of death but…

Reaching out a hand, she placed it over the body’s forehead and closed her eyes. There were about five seconds of silence before the corpse awoke with an agonized gasp, its eyes an icy blue in indication of Matsu’s sorcery. “Hurts! Hurts! Please, kill me! Make it stop!”

“What hurts?” she asked calmly, exerting control as the corpse tried to start moving on the table. It froze but it wailed, its eyes rolling in its head.

“Everything! No eat. Vomit...came up black, pieces of me. Hurt! So fast. Chest hurt and then nothing. MAKE IT STOP, PLEASE KILL ME!”

Matsu took her hand from the creature’s forehead and everything stopped again - just as he had asked.

“Chest hurt,” she murmured, contemplating his words. Of course whatever he had said was from the most primitive part of his brainstem. She was lucky to reach him before most of his brain rotted but the dead had little of their faculties when she brought them back to ‘life’. “Perhaps this necrosis ultimately caused myocardial infarction?” she theorized, looking up to Dr. Ven. “Your thoughts?” she asked, as always seemingly oblivious to her own horror.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah should have been horrified. She should have turned and fled, then and there- most people would have. It was grotesque and unnatural on the deepest, most visceral level. She recognized that, somewhere in the back of her mind. And she knew that her reaction was.... not entirely appropriate. Not for a normal, healthy person.

Then again, most normal, healthy people hadn't woken up on a planet surrounded by the dead.

And proceeded to relive it night after night.

The fascination on Irajah's face was certain tinged with the horror that ought to have ruled there. She watched Matsu and the deceased unerringly, never flinching. Clearly the work of the Force- she had never even known the Force could do something like that. It was awful yes, but so was so much of a physician's work. And he was dead already. It was obvious that what the other woman did could not, did not, grant him life again in any fashion.

Other than the mildly disturbing sensation in her gut, she didn't see any particular harm in it. Dead was dead. Death was that final entropy she fought against, both personally and professionally. But once it had taken hold? Well.

How much easier would it had been if she had been able to ask the patients she had lost just how they had felt? So many times they had been unable to speak from pain, unconscious or she was simply too late. She hated those times- hated the limitations of her art. She railed against death- but not because of it's simple fact. People died. But because it taunted. When it took before a person's time. Sickness. Accident. And those times she could not take someone back?

It festered.

She recognized all of this. And the knowledge that she ought to be bothered by this more lurked inside of her, heavy and uncomfortable.

But the 'how did she do that?' shouted it down, shoving it into an ugly little box.

Slowly, she shook her head.

"Yes, but caused by Coronary thrombosis," she said absently, reaching in and pressing the tips of her fingers lightly against the slightly swollen heart. Heart attack was a lazy diagnosis. "If I had to guess, I'd expect to find a blood clot thrown by the necrotic bowel. Probably several, if the patient testimony is accurate. I'm sure your doctors recorded it. He could have just as easily died from a stroke or a pulmonary embolism. But he got lucky and got the quicker option."

[member="Matsu Xiangu"]

 

[Matsu Xiangu]

Though it wasn’t visible under the respirator, Matsu was wearing the smallest, almost imperceptible hint of a smile. She had no degrees, no medical training beyond that which she’d gained through a lifetime of playing god. She could follow Dr. Ven’s thinking easily enough but she sought out talent such as hers specifically because at the end of the day she needed something beyond her own knowledge base. And all at once Matsu had revealed behavior and intent that would have quickly made lesser beings attempt to run.

So the Sith Lord couldn’t help but find Dr. Ven’s pragmatic explanation amusing in the most delightful of ways.

________________​

Once finished flapping back flesh, weighing organs, scrubbing out, stripping off the contaminated protective equipment, and scrubbing again...Matsu felt confident in pulling back the veil on the last of the puzzle. Walking back through the facility, she explained as they strolled.

“We do study the nature of infectious disease in the traditional way here, so your work will not be out of place. But much of the research is also regarding how to weaponize pathogens, how the human or alien body holds up against various stressors...information that would be useful to a large organization of Sith. You are welcome to assist with those things and your insight would be valuable and appreciated, but I do not require it.”

As Dr. Ven had pointed out before, she was getting what seemed like the sweet end of the deal. But Matsu didn’t see it that way. A spider had many eyes and so must she if she wanted to protect what was hers. The more people looking out for her assets, the better.

“So. Would you like to see where I think your labs would fit nicely?”

[member="Irajah Ven"]​