Chapter One: Solace Side Station
Doctor Nikolai Solace applauded himself as the green light indicating a successful simulation reflected off his spectacles and gleaming teeth in an overzealous grin. He laughed and began to sway and shuffle his feet around to the deafening loud, festive music that played in a never ending loop around his personal laboratory, complete with rows of incubation chambers filled with the brains of various species, a desk piled with documents, research and clutter and a 20 meter long rectangular slab assorted with equipment – an experimentation paraphernalia. The gem of his own private asteroid installation, smugly named Solace Side Station, the laboratory was the most pronounced feature of the station, occupying a significant space, containing his own personal chambers and dining hall with a transparent dome above his lab. It was connected to rest of the station via a single tubular walkway.
Drilled and constructed in accordance to his own design, Solace Side Station was the result of a generous research grant gifted to Nikolai by an "Anonymous Imperial Moff" after an imperial inquisitor became interested in his work concerning alien synaptic networks and activity. It was powered by an incredibly advanced form of internal combustion engine, fueled directly from a highly potent mineral found within the asteroid and others in the belt. The station possessed a unique but devastating defense system, a series of fifteen small relay stations built around the circumference of the asteroid. The relays were capable of emitting concentrated gravitational pulses. Any ships daring enough to enter the asteroid belt to plunder the station were smashed and crushed by nearby asteroids thrown at artificially destructive speeds by the relays. Debris littered the area around the station as a steadily growing warning.
Of course, there was an imperial presence aboard the station, a small garrison of stormtroopers and maintenance personnel to cater to the needs of Doctor Nikolai and an important client. Two Tartan-class patrol cruisers were docked at the station, for use in violent situations the relays could not solve. As such it was one of the rare and officially non-existent imperial installations in Wild Space.
"Sensational!" Doctor Solace clapped once more, ceasing his imitation of a Twi'Lek female dancer, confident he could not be seen.
He hurried over to the terminal at the far end of the massive lab paraphernalia which, moments ago was blinking success, now possessed a grey input screen. His lab coat fell just two centimeters above the ground as he moved, concealing most of his human figure. Nikolai had recently aged 88, but the only sign of his oncoming senility was a limp he carried in his left leg. He reached the terminal and started to hum along with the flamboyant music, but was soon interrupted by a chime at the lab's door, somebody requesting permission to enter. He clicked his fingers, shutting the music off.
"Who is it, damnit? I'm busy!" he yelled with a defined imperious accent.
"Dretch. Lady Arnia has requested an update on your progress, Doctor Solace" came the apathetic reply, filtered through a stormtrooper's helmet, Corellian accented and human in origin.
"She's hardly a lady anymore,"
"Sir?"
"Never mind… Tell her she's in luck, the latest calibrations have just been applied successfully. She can see me whenever she damn well pleases." Doctor Solace replied as he moved his hand over the fingerprint access by the door, it sliding open.
The storm commando Dretch took a step back as the door whined open, resembling a shadow as his night-black scout armor silhouetted against the white interior of the station. He was assigned as the Doctor's personal guard after Nikolai expressed the specific desire for a single, highly trained bodyguard, rather than "walking white targets". Dretch had expressed interest in the duty to end his long military career. He wanted to retire from combat, but not from his armor. He and the Doctor had a relationship built on mutual respect for each other's abilities.
"Well, what are you waiting for? Go tell her, damnit!" Nikolai asserted impatiently, adjusting his spectacles.
"Sir, she also mentioned extending her visitation a further week,"
"What? Why? I don't…we don't play babysitters here! Go tell her that, too!"
"Sir, with due respect, that's a stupid idea. She's an inquisitor. Unless you'd like a painful death, agitating her is a bad move." Dretch retorted.
"I've known her long enough to know she wouldn't lay a finger on me. You'd be the only one at risk, and I don't want her here longer than she needs to be. Her presence is unnerving, and I guarantee it will interfere with my work!"
Dretch sighed and tilted his helmeted head at Doctor Solace in protest, remaining in the corridor. Nikolai Rolled his eyes.
"Fine. Just tell her to stay out of my way and out of my work if she intends to remain!" groaned Nikolai, marching back into his lab.
"Yes, sir."
Just as Dretch began to turn down the walkway he stood to the side and saluted as a robed Zabrak female approached the door with quick, light steps, ignoring the storm commando on her way in. Dretch was wise enough to deduce she overheard their conversation and promptly shut the door to the lab behind her.
Inquisitor Mirev Arnia glanced around the lab, locating Doctor Solace. He had moved back to the same terminal and already resumed the music at the same tempo and volume as it had been before he was interrupted.
Mirev raised an eyebrow curiously at the clamor of wind and string instruments playing in celebration. Tuning it out, she moved away from the doctor to the other side of the room, intent on first inspecting the brain incubation pods. All but her neck and head was hidden beneath the flowing Inquisitor robes, marked in blood red and black, announcing her position and instilling intimidation to all those who recognized what they symbolized.
Like all Zabrak, the only two defining features to tell her apart from a human were a small outcrop of 5 short horns above her forehead, four encircling a larger fifth. The other was a ceremonial tattoo, three thick spears of purple running down from her eyebrows through both eyes to the base of her chin, and one through the center down her nose and lips. Her eyes were ethereal, in state of flux, shifting from dark brown to emerald every few seconds.
She was a member of the Imperial Inquisitorius, a relentless group of dark side agents. Created by Darth Sidious to serve the empire; tasked with hunting down, interrogating, recruiting and eliminating any remaining Jedi or force sensitive individuals throughout the galaxy.
But her interest in Nikolai Solace stemmed only from medical need. Mirev was the inquisitor responsible for his success and current residency. Bearing an extremely odd illness, the synaptic networks of her brain were in a state of constant degradation and if not repaired every few months, her mind would slowly die. Doctor Nikolai Solace was her synaptic conditioner, only his skills and treatments were keeping that from happening. But the reality was much more complicated.
Mirev silently headed towards the opposite side of the lab, standing a few paces behind Nikolai, who was fervently at work, and humming along to the blasting music. She announced her presence, manipulating force energy to silence it.
"What now?!" Nikolai growled, twisting in his chair to inspect the lab for the cause, jumping in surprise at the presence of the inquisitor.
"Stop that, damnit! I'm getting older, and I don't need you shortening the time I have left! Not all of us have the privilege of body-swapping!"
"The process is much more intricate than you assume." She replied, features and voice reflecting no emotion or noticeable accent.
"Oh I'm sure. Bore me later, if you please. I have work to do."
"For one of your profession, I believe you would express much more interest."
"So you might think. If there is one thing I have learned through working with you, scientific analysis can reveal only one thing about the "force". The presence of midichlorians, nothing else! Not a damn thing! Now, what do you want?" Nikolai responded, standing to face her.
"Have you perfected the operations of the implant?" Mirev remained impassive and still.
"Of course, I've also managed to update its functions with a new set of commands. Ingenious! The idea came to me in a dream…" Nikolai cooed with passion.
"Elaborate" came the response.
"Yes, yes, give me a moment."
Nikolai turned back to the console and began tapping on the keys. A small circular pad was ejected moments later, which he eagerly retrieved and activated, turning back to Mirev. A hologram flickered to life, the image of a small micro-processor modified for use as a cybernetic implant. Various labels accompanied the image, detailing its components. Moments later the images rotated and shifted, zooming in on a tiny red section of the chip.
"Ah, here we are. I won't bother you with the advanced cybernetic cross synaptic application and programming procedures, but! Once the chip is installed, you will not be restricted to repressing Mirev's synaptic patterns to slow the degradation, but you can control them, without releasing them. I assume you release Mirev when you need her personality to deal with certain situations, but I can also assume that doing so is unpredictable. You cannot control exactly what she will say. I can fix that. Think…"
He paused, gathering his thoughts in a hopeless attempt to dazzle the woman with his brilliance, "Think of it as a performance! This will let you act as Mirev without actually letting her do the talking, effectively enabling you to become her, and be able to, uh, filter what is said rather than, uh…ah! Yes, rather than letting her out, then attempting to manage what she says. And all with a single thought. A single damn thought!"
Mivia, the consciousness controlling the body of the Zabrak Mirev and suppressing the still living mind, canted her head in extreme intrigue as the Doctor drowned in his "brilliance".
"Very well. Interface it." She stated while traveling past Nikolai towards an operation table attached to the lab paraphernalia.
"What?! Aren't you going to say something else?" he complained.
He sighed when no response was given and walked towards the table, preparing for the operation. A moment before he induced her into unconsciousness, she belatedly responded.
"Yes. What was that music you were…enjoying?"
Nikolai mocked, "Zabrak Diaspora, a cultural monument to the Zabrak's dispersal from Iridonia to colonize the stars! I thought you would know that, Mivia…oh, no, you wouldn't. Mirev would."
Mivia fell into sleep staring at a madman's face, pitched against the stars, pondering whether or not she should eliminate her Doctor and seek another.
