Carson sat at the spacious workbench, finally getting the chance to run through the cybernetic surgery equipment he had found during their travels. It was nice to finally have some time to go through all of it, without the hustle and bustle of his comrades on board. Khalik was taking a similar respite across the retrofitted cargo bay, modifying some of his equipment for combat use. The young Jedi had come far in his training, and in general. Truly, they all had. Carson had simply been a physician trying to get home when this all started. Now, he toed the line between good and evil daily. Visions of Aurra Sing, her body almost instantly necrotizing came to mind.Those horrors were caused by his hand, after he’d sworn never to harm another being again. Was it justified? The party nearly unanimously agreed. He’d never have forgiven himself if he’d let her die. Even releasing the investigator they had captured on Coruscant had damaged his relations with his comrades. ‘Well, no one ever said the high road was easy.’ Carson thought as a cybernetic fist ran through a test cycle, checking its’ range of motion.
Carson was broken from his deep thought by his personal commlink. A hologram shot up out of his datapad, showing him Baldr and the others, apparently at one of the most prestigious clubs on the planet. The hologram was almost blinding with brightness.
“Doc, can these be taken out?” Baldr asked.
Carson paused before responding, not quite believing what he was hearing, seeing party guests sporting implanted sunglasses on their foreheads.
“Look, we need to get these goggles to make a good impression. Should we get them done here? Can you take them out?”
“From where? Why do you ‘need’ them?” Carson added.
Baldr got a bit frustrated. “Just answer the question, Doc…”
“You really should get those done someplace more thorough than a night club.”
“What’s the worst that could happen?” Baldr added. “Okay, we’ll see you later.”
“You aren’t actually getting this done…” Carson trailed off. Baldr had already ended the communication. Carson sighed, trying to turn back to his work. He couldn’t help but think of just how his friends were getting these goggles implanted. He kept envisioning a Toydarian black market dealer, in a dark alleyway. Somehow, he couldn’t stop seeing Baldr’s grinning face waiting for the knife.
Somehow, he wouldn’t have it any other way, he thought as his head lightly hit the desk in frustration.