"Please, Doctor. I can't go into the details. Classified, you understand."
The Republic medical officer furrowed his brows for a moment before calling up the Admiral's final examination on his screen.
"Cause of death was a stroke, which we were unable to properly treat due to complications resulting from Tarrlock syndrome."
"I don't believe I've ever heard of it."
"Well, it's extremely rare. Tarrlock's syndrome causes subtle disruptions in brain chemistry that can take a very long time before they build to a point that standard tests will recognize them as being distinct from any of a hundred other neurological disorders. The only outward symptoms are mild mood swings in the early stages before the damage to the prefrontal cortex becomes noticeable on a standard scan."
"Interesting…I'd like for you to look at something else for me, Doctor."
Chuchi handed the Doctor a datapad containing information on Nelson's service record and waited as he read through it.
"In your opinion, Doctor, could the Admiral's unusual behavior during the Chromistro campaign be a result of this condition?"
"I'd need more information than this to make a reliable diagnosis…but it's certainly plausible. The psychological disruptions would grow more pronounced over time, and when he died, the syndrome was in a very advanced stage."
"Thank you Doctor."
Chuchi took her datapad back with a smile. The officer nodded and returned to his work, but Chuchi paused at the door and turned back. Perhaps she was just letting Ventress get under her skin, but…
"Doctor?"
"Yes?"
"Would it be possible to...intentionally induce Tarrlock's syndrome in an individual?"
"To what? No, Senator, that's quite impossible. The syndrome is caused by exposure to a combination of several different forms of stellar radiation and industrial chemicals. Even then, it manifests almost at random. It's not something you can just slip into someone's food."
"Ah. Yes. Thank you again, Doctor."
Chuchi stepped out of sickbay and ducked into a side corridor to let a squad of clone troopers move past. Her shuttle was waiting to take her back to the negotiations, but the wheels in her mind kept turning. The nagging feeling that something wasn't adding up was beginning to form, but halfway to the flight deck she was getting a headache and pushed the whole mess to the back of her mind. She could pass her concerns on to people better suited to examine them. For now, Ventress' cynicism be damned, she was going to have a talk with her friend.
Once she was planetside, Chuchi dodged the Nalfean functionaries sent to meet with her and starting searching for Ahsoka. A few polite questions and a lot of running took her to one of the northern towers, where a figure sat in a meditative posture on a flying buttress. There was at least a dozen meters of very narrow metal girding between her and Ahsoka, and when the jedi didn't respond to her greeting, Chuchi braced herself before slowly climbing the thin railing that separated her from a very, very long drop.
Awkwardly, Chuchi lowered herself to crawl forwards on her hands and knees and enjoyed a brief moment of terror when the wind picked up. Even after everything the Senator had been through, vertigo proved a foe she did not care to challenge when the consequences of losing involved the words 'terminal velocity.'
Chuchi kept her eyes firmly on her goal and managed to make the rest of the journey despite the hammering in her chest. With so little room to move, Chuchi found herself leaning against Ahsoka when she sat down.
"I spoke with the medical officer in charge of Nelson's autopsy."
Ahsoka didn't even twitch at the mention of the name, and Chuchi took that as permission to continue.
"It seemed he had developed an extremely rare and hard-to-identify neurological condition that was the likely cause of his bizarre behavior."
Chuchi's mouth felt strangely dry. It wasn't exactly a lie…
"But I'll be passing along the advisement to begin testing other officers for Tarrlock's syndrome. It's still hard to believe everything you've told me about Dooku, but a little paranoia is worth preventing another Chromisto."
A part of Chuchi wanted to reach out in a more physical sense…but the silent Jedi projected a sense of remoteness that was making it hard just to stay seated next to her. Even with the long drop below, Chuchi was left shifting back and forth, leaning a few centimetres away before putting her weight back on the meditating Jedi. It must have been irritating to be on the receiving end of the senator's wobbling, but Ahsoka wasn't showing the slightest sign of notice.
"Thank you, Chuchi." The Jedi's posture didn't change, and her voice sounded like it came from someplace very far away. "But Nelson was right about one thing. If I was such a friend to Bariss, why didn't she share her concerns with me? Why didn't she take her objections to the council? I thought I knew her…I really thought she trusted me...I saved her life more than once, you know. And this is how she repays me."
Ahsoka stood smoothly, without concern for wind or heights.
"Barriss made her choice. I shouldn't feel responsible for her actions."
Walking the span back to solid ground was no issue for Ahsoka, but Chuchi found it just as terrifying the second time around. She nearly lost her grip and called out for help on reflex.
There was no answer.
Ahsoka was already walking away, and she spared only a look back that made Chuchi's heart seize. All Ahsoka offered was an unspoken question.
Are you going to make trouble for me, too?
Once back inside the tower, Chuchi fell to the ground and hugged her knees to her chest. Ahsoka had changed. Whatever realization Ahsoka's meditation had shown her had nothing to do with forgiveness or acceptance.
What was Ahsoka turning into?
A miniaturized probe droid shimmered into visibility above Dooku's desk. A moment of digital communication later and his monitors were displaying captured images and recorded conversations from the past few days that painted a very grim picture of the padawan.
"The young outcast is turning to the dark side far faster than I expected…but then, there really is no pain like that of betrayal…"
Dooku raised his hood and adjusted the holo-controls, and several people flickered into view, floating above the table.
"Greetings, gentlemen. With the chaff having scattered in the face of adversity, I will provide you, the most daring of bounty hunters, with the codes needed to bypass the embassy security systems. That the original target has expired is of no consequence, the five million promised credits will now be rewarded for the capture or elimination of a new target."
The pantoran ambassador now floated in profile aside the hunter's current benefactor.
"And in addition…a bonus of one million credits will be awarded for the capture or confirmed termination of either of the ambassador's bodyguards. I warn you not to underestimate them, as they are both formidable adversaries."
The thought was tempting, turning Ahsoka to the service of the Sith. Her friend's betrayal, the corruption of the Senate…there were many cracks in her ideological armor that might be exploited, but he'd had enough of rebellious underlings for the time being. Besides, his master had implied something in their last conversation before Dooku arrived at the summit, though Dooku couldn't begin to guess where he might have found a servant skilled enough to replace Ventress...and whose loyalty would not be in question.
The channel closed, and Dooku was left in darkness to prepare his next step.