Imperial City
Ryssa was finding her way around the newly named medical centre. Although still attached to the previously named ARCA barracks, various rooms had been given a change of use and most had been re-named and re-numbered. Everywhere she saw a holocam watching, recording and reporting, to ISB, they were the new boys, she'd heard. She had to act as if this was perfectly normal day for her. It was a strain not to let go but it was her only chance to survive. Kal, Vau and the Nulls has been right to be paranoid but the extent of what they had actually been up against was unimaginable.
She was scared — all the time.
Her quarters was along one of the anonymous corridors that all looked the same, only their designation at the end of each told you where you were.
She found it again.
Hesitantly, she inserted her new Code Cylinder into the door and it let her in, surprised she entered the small room and when the door slid shut, she leaned back, almost relaxing but then reminded herself of the Holocams everywhere. On autopilot, she undressed and put her uniform away in the small amount of storage she had in the room and threw some in chute for the laundry droid. Thankfully, it had its own fresher, so no sharing. All the time she was checking if there was any holofeed cameras. If anything had changed, if anything had been moved; if there were any cameras, she couldn't see them and she didn't have any scanner to check.
She needed a shower, if only to symbolically wash away the grime she felt from her interactions with the Imperials, and if she was honest, with herself as well.
The shower was functional, used sonic and water, a sonic shower would not have had the same effect, so stepping in, she chose hot water and savoured it pulsing out from the shower head. It served its purpose. Standing there she felt the tension gradually disperse from her neck, shoulders and spine and finally she let go, silently, everything she had been holding in; hot salty tears mixed with the chemically treated and recycled water of Coruscant.
.
Kyrimorut, Mandalore
A'den couldn't think properly, couldn't sleep for more than a few hours. He kept going over and over what he could have done differently, retracing his steps, Kal's steps, Ordo, Atin, everyone who had been there. Atin said she was last seen going into a LAATi. That could have taken her to the now Imperial Barracks or a Star Destroyer, which could be anywhere. Everything was in chaos for those on the outside; for once he and his brothers had no way in. They were not used to having that lack of control, none of them were. They were all a little jumpy. Obrim had taken care of Etain for them, and with Ny, he had ensured that she was returned to Kal and Kad'ika. Obrim said he would keep looking for Ryssa. A'den knew he would; he was a good man.
Still he brooded. L'leth pushed him to eat and made his favourite things; he picked at the food and prowled around the house avoiding people. He needed to get back to Coruscant or Imperial City as it was now, to do something, anything.
The same thoughts rolled round and around in his head.
I've failed her.
I should have done more, should have been there.
Before he knew it, he was outside, sitting on the fallen tree trunk that was serving as a makeshift bench in the grounds of the bastion. He didn't see the distant countryside he was staring at, just the image of her looking up at him.
"Ad'ika?" His father's voice pulled him away from his thoughts; he had not even heard him walk up to him, as he sat. He'd come outside as he didn't want to see Ordo and Besany, or Atin and Laseema, or even Fi and Parja, although none of this was their fault.
"Buir?" Kal dragged him into a hug he did not want, did not deserve. He didn't want to be loved by his father at this moment. He wanted his Buir to shout at him, to show his annoyance at a son who'd failed his family.
"I've been neglecting you."
"You have Kad'ika to look after and everything else that's happened, besides I'm a grown man."
"It doesn't mean I should ignore you." He watched his son, sometimes he thought he should have paid more attention to him over the years but he had always seemed so socialised, so easy to get on with and he had married a good woman, one who loved him for who he was and now she was missing. Kal missed her too. He liked her. He was worried about her and he blamed himself. He should have made better provision and got her out earlier. First Etain and now Neryssa.
"We're already working on how to get her and your brothers out. We just don't know exactly where she is and we've been cut out of the loop for a little while. So that's the first step."
"I know Buir. I just need to help."
"That's my boy. If you're doing something…."
"I could go with Ny.."
"No!"
"Buir!"
"No, Ordo and I have talked it over and think it would be better if you didn't, for the moment." He saw the look of desperation on his sons face, "We regroup. Get the Intel. Jaing agreed and he's already working on something."
A'den's jaw clenched before he replied. "Okay Buir, whatever you say. I'll go help Prudii."
"Good lad, it's for the best."
This time, he relished a little more the hug his father gave him, realising his father needed it as much as he did, and then watched him walk back to the house, looking as if he had the weight of Mandalore on his shoulders. He needed to try and help with that weight but how?
He knew he was only doing this to appease his father, to bide his time before he would get back to Coruscant. Get back to her. He had done it during the war, led incursions into enemy territory, he could still do it. He would talk to Prudii and Kom'rk later. Not Ordo. Ordo wouldn't understand.
The lake looked good in the sunset; Ryssa would have loved it— would love it here, he corrected himself. He felt the anger at the galaxy rising in him; he turned and aimed a punch at the tree he had been leaning against since his father left. He hit a softer target, his brother's hand wrapped around his.
"I was looking forward to finally meeting Neryssa, vod. What happened?"
"She likes to be called Ryssa."
"Yeah, I suppose Neryssa, is a bit of a mouthful. How are you doing?"
"I failed her."
"Ner vod, don't do an Ordo."
"She was waiting. I saw her. She saw me. I know it. I should have got her out sooner.
"I heard. Not your fault. So what can we do now?"
"I need to speak to her, then get to Coruscant."
.
Imperial City.
Making her way to the Medical Centre the next day, in her Imperial Uniform, with her chain code, her code cylinders and datapad; Ryssa now felt physically uncomfortable in addition to being mentally on edge. It was amazed at how quickly they had managed to get everything in place, the new uniforms, IDs, chain codes — numbers for everyone now and the New Imperial Crest floating over everything. Almost as if it had just been waiting in storage ready for the time it was needed and that meant a lot people already knew what was going to happen.
She didn't want to think of that.
The more she interacted with new Stormtroopers the more differences she saw. Obviously clones, they sounded like clones, sort of, and definitely looked like them, when they took their helmets off, and were very, very young but not like the clones she knew, they were less ….individualistic, more regimented but with a childlike capacity to learn. There was gaps in their knowledge but boy could they fill those gaps.
Their armour had been changed with no personalised markings, that had been a right of passage for Kamino clones, when they were assigned to their Company or squad but now they were totally interchangeable. She needed to find Niner and Darman, and check on how they were and if they were in touch with the Nulls.
She used her code cylinder to access the med bay. The Med Droid appeared almost silently next to her, there was no way you could call this one a 'clanker'. It was much more upmarket, looking like cross between a protocol droid and an old fashioned nanny droid, but in blue burnished steel rather than silver or gold.
"Good Morning, D…D…Dr Baey." It said, in a very soothing, non confrontational way. "Would you like an update on IC - 1309?"
"Yes—how did you know?" She replied.
"You checked on him after the Med Evac team brought him in and he started treatment; it would appear that this Clone means something to you."
"No. I mean ….I know him, knew him. I just wanted to check on him."
He made no comment but pulled up Niner's information.
"He is sedated and submerged in bacta, with a back brace to ensure that his back remains at the optimum level for recovery. The regeneration is progressing as expected."
The droid opened up a holofeed with Niner on it.
"As you can see"... it continued to go through Niner's, treatment and status, he looked very peaceful in the tank, no sign of pain or agitation and it was a few seconds before she realised the droid had finished.
"D…D..Dr. Baey?" It said with an enquiry in its voice. "I am a fully qualified Doctor, complete with the appropriate psychological upgrades to treat clones."
She stared at it; it almost sounded offended that she may think otherwise and had not been listening to it.
"Of course," she dropped into placatory mode, "so what is the prognosis for RC 1309?" She had automatically used the Republic prefix without thinking.
"You mean IC - 1309, D…D…Dr Baey." The droid corrected her without a hint of sarcasm in its voice. But the stutter was getting on her nerves.
Hmm.
"Er, yes, IC - 1309, what's his prognosis." She enquired.
"The unit will require a further two days in Bacta and then Physical Rehabilitation." The droid intoned, Ryssa winced inwardly at the word 'unit'. She looked up at the man hanging in the harness; he was most definitely not a 'unit', but there was nothing she could do for him at present.
"Is there anything else I can do for you D..D…Dr Baey?"
"Yes." She put her hand on its front processor unit, "let's get rid of that stutter."
Th droid shut down immediately, head dropping forward. Ryssa removed her hand. "Well. That shouldn't have happened. Perhaps it's defective." She turned to look for her small tool kit, in her medical bag, which Sa Cuis had returned to her. As she retrieved her tools, she heard the droid start up again.
"Dr Baey, how can I help you?"
"Oh. It's gone."
"What's gone?"
"Nothing. Never mind. So what's on the list for today?"
.
The next morning, Ryssa's code cylinders had been upgraded and she was given access to more areas and a new Med bay. It was as if they were testing how far she could go.
She tried to focus on what she needed to do and blend in but it was difficult; she couldn't find a way to get hold of Den, didn't know what had happened to him, or any of her family, because that's what they were, family. They were all she had now and after the interview with Sa Cuis she needed to get out or protect them…..from her.
Only this morning at breakfast in the Mess Hall, a Doctor she didn't recognise was dragged off by Stormtroopers and ISB officers. She heard the whispers circulate the room as the officers entered; saw the Doctor's colleagues disappear from the table, the ones he'd been eating with seconds earlier.
"What no! There must be some mistake. What about my family?"
He protested his innocence, asked about his family. No one listened. No one intervened. She felt ashamed but it was self preservation, everyone kept their heads down concentrating on their food. She surreptitiously watched the two officers stun and drag him away.
When they left she rose and took her uneaten breakfast to the recycling; she was no longer hungry.
By the time she got to her new med bay she was shaking. It could have been her. She used the code cylinder to gain access and had to stand and stare to take in, all the up to the minute equipment that was housed within this new Medbay.
"Good Morning, Dr Baey." a droid voice announced, its maleness was nearly perfect but there was still the underlying intonation of a mechanical voice.
She had thought she was alone in the med Bay and so didn't answer immediately.
"We met yesterday, Dr Baey." It continued.
"Ah, yes. What are you doing here?" She asked, a little puzzled by what was happening, it's voice had changed, since yesterday.
"I have been assigned to you, as I explained yesterday." It had definitely changed, no stutter but there was other things that were different, things she just couldn't put her finger on.
"Oh," she paused, "still assigned to me?" She asked
"Yes, it is standard Imperial procedure. I am assigned to you permanently." He replied, also answering her unasked question. "As I said yesterday, I am a fully qualified Doctor." It paused now. "My qualifications are at Level 5; I am version 3.02. If you want to call me anything EmDee, will suffice." An indistinct memory surfaced then fell again, as she dismissed it; then a thought crossed her mind that it seemed almost sentient.
"You, Dr Baey, are the higher rank due to your experience in the field and I have been assigned to you, as your second."
She stopped dead. "Who assigned you?"
"Imperial Medical Department."
Stang!
"I look forward to working with you."
"MD23?" It looked an older model.
"Yes, Doctor," it replied conversationally.
"Were you manufactured pre-Clone Wars?" She asked, not knowing why she had never asked this before but there was something about it.
"Yes Doctor, why are you asking for this information?"
"Bear with me EmDee. EmDee is alright isn't it?"
"Whatever you wish."
"Which facility manufactured you?"
"The 2-1B Industrial Automaton facility on Nubia, why?"
"Ah. I think my mother probably developed you." She murmured to herself.
"That is very interesting Doctor, I think she developed you too." She had not realised that she said that aloud; she was going to have to be much more careful but she knew she was clutching at anything, if she was remembering droids her mother had developed. But this one —reminded her of her old nanny cum protector droid, although it looked very different then. It had disappeared when she started senior school; her mother said she had become too dependant on it.
It couldn't be, could it?
No! She dismissed that thought as ludicrous.
Ryssa stared hard at the droid, did it make a joke? She had heard of them doing this but had never known one long enough to appreciate it; except her old droid, he was always joking. Perhaps she missed something. It was too late now, this was an Imperial Droid and she needed to be careful.
She just wished she could speak to Den; they were supposed to be together now, shaking her head she put a stop to that thought, that particular day dream, that particular desire.
She had her List of Duties for the day, on call for Commandos on their return from missions; she would be working with the droid as her second.
Ryssa studiously avoided meeting any of the other medical staff for any length of time and had not yet met her immediate superior. She decided to keep her distance from the other staff as far as she could but she would have to see her superior, at some point and that was this afternoon at 14.00. She had looked them up on the Staff Directory knowing they couldn't possibly the Dr Cahu she originally knew.
Jaing would love all this personal information held in cyberspace.
Flicking through the list, there were a great many, technicians, Doctors, medical Droids of various levels of expertise and she reached the one name, one she never thought she would see again. Whispering she articulated her thoughts, "Dr Cahu died. This can't be him."
She was meeting this Dr Cahu, this afternoon; she was intrigued and apprehensive in equal measure. He had known about A'den or guessed. She needed to calm herself and prepare for the meeting; it was in an hour and she needed Caf now, so she headed for the Mess.
.
EmDee rolled around the medical bay; he was now in a steady state. He had found the object of his initial programming and it made him complete. He hummed to himself. His favourite Mon Cala opera, Third Act. The stanza was mathematically perfect.
It had taken fourteen years, numerous upgrades, five refits, one Republic overhaul and an Imperial factory reset and Rebrand and they still had not been able to remove his initial programming which had been completed by Marcya Baey. His Maker was brilliant and over the years he had marvelled at the intricacies and finesse of the artificial intelligence that she had imbued him with.
He thought of himself as "male", he didn't know why, it was just how he identified. He hadn't started out as a medical droid but he had a high level of medical intelligence as part of his initial programming and when he had been removed from his first charge, the heretics who thought that they knew droid programming had designated him a medical droid.
Little did they know.
He was a 'Protector' droid.
He knew medicine, psychology, child development, nutrition, languages, mathematics, history, philosophy, politics, Jedi teachings and other religions; all the knowledge required to rear, teach and protect a youngling.
A specific youngling, Marcya Baey's child.
He would continue with his initial programming despite the passing of the years.
He had updated his Person of Interest file now. In addition to the Count of Gesl, there was now a list of Imperials who had shown too much interest in his charge.
He had found his purpose again.
He hummed the main stanza of Third Act again, as he reorganised the stock to the way he knew Doctor Baey would want it.
Today was a good day.