Title: A Blaster Wound? Authors: Ewok Poet Canonicity: Canon Genre: Mystery Characters: Tarlo Tarmill, Pyrgopolynices, 3B-4D "Threebee" (all OCs) Timeframe: 5 ABY Rating: PG (corpses involved) Length: Short Summary: Some internships require drastic measures. A/N: This is a response to the Create a New OC in 500–1500 Words! challenge. “Anything yet?” Professor Pyrgopolynices entered the laboratory. His intern, Tarlo Tarmill, didn’t seem particularly delighted to be working with the morgue droids, but he had no other option to get the necessary credits. “There is a blaster wound from a D-44. Threebee examined it using the plasma microscope and that is what we determined, Master Pyrgopolynices.” Tarlo stopped to catch a breath. “According to the tattoo on his wrist, he was closely affiliated to the Meatlumps Gang.” “My young man…now, that would be contradictory.” The Drall medic dismissed the intern’s claims. “The so-called Meatlump King is against any kind of progress and…” “…that is precisely why he would kill a member of the gang who is using post-Ruusan reformation weapons, as opposed to what his sect, err, gang considers noble. That, plus, according to the Meatlumps’ code, everybody who deserts them will be tracked down and killed, unless they have managed to flee the sector." “You’re talking as if you have infiltrated that gang and interviewed them! Instead of speculating, can you tell me if you have identified him by blood sample and fingerprints? Teeth?” “Yes. There was a rapid tissue decay, so I had to isolate and grow stem cells from the very bottom of his spine. Louis Bender is the name. He is one of the sons of the notorious Lucien Bender and, according to the central archive’s databank, also one of the gang’s founders.” 3B-4D reported, holding the datacard in his shiny metal hand. “The cyborg who ran experiments on his sons and was killed a couple of years ago.” “That seems familiar.” The Drall adjusted his thick-rimmed glasses. “What cybernetics are we talking about, droid?” He turned away from the Human. Tarlo interjected. “Arms and torso. Similar to General Grievous in the Clone Wars, but I dare not think how he acquired them. I don’t think he was ever in a battle…” “You do have some interesting ideas.” Pyrgopolunices dismissed his student’s claims again. “Why would somebody enchance themselves with cybernetics on purpose? It was rumoured that the Emperor himself had some such beings after the Battle of Yavin handy, but still…no Bender was involved with that! One would have to wonder if you came from Curheg, and not Saccorata. Even I know what rumours have been going around regarding that city.” “I wouldn’t know about those rumours, professor!” Tarlo said, with a light shrug. “But I have another thing to tell you.” “I’m all ears.” “The blaster wound did not kill Louis Bender. He was injected with a poisonous substance as well.” Tarlo turned on a small holo-projector and a molecule was displayed on the morgue ceiling. “Gamma green. There are traces of another agent, but they might be remains of a non-working antidote.” “Impossible, Tarmill, impossible!” Professor Pyrgopolynices slammed his fist against the durasteel bed. “The only supply of Gamma green on this planet is safely guarded here, in Coronet Medcenter!” “Threebee checked the molecule structure against all known databases.” Pyrgopolynices mumbled an old Drallish cuss word into his furry chin. He did not like it when his students didn’t break a sweat. He would often give them wrong clues on purpose during simulated practice sessions and there were times Tarlo failed, he had to re-take an exam twice come last year. The idea of him getting something right on his first real-life post mortem analysis was something that he simply had to attribute to beginners’ luck. “Professor?” “Go ahead.” Pyrgopolynices said, with a sigh and added, sotto voce. “Like you didn’t talk enough already…” “We need to report this to…” “No, we don’t.” The Drall raised his voice. “The representatives of Xucphra Corporation are not going to like this. They sponsor the internships for students from other star systems in the Sector and here we are, determining that a gang founder was poisoned by a stolen substance.” “Aren’t they all satellite companies secretly owned by Prall the Hutt?” “The Nubian oligarch?” The Drall was intrigued. “Now, Tarlo, where did you get that?” “Nobody else could gain anything from such a sponsorship immediately after the Civil War.” “Look, young one. I am not sure what kind of conspiracy theories are popular over there on Sacorria, but this is something that we just cannot spread further. Financing! Sponsorship. Your degree depends on this, doesn’t it?” Threebee pulled away from the two organics. Tarlo was silent for good two minutes, somewhat unusual for a big talker. And then he turned the holo-projector off. “All right, professor. Here is the datacard.” “That is the Sacorrian obedience I read about, Tarmill.” The rodent patted the young man on the back. “And I will make sure that you fullfill the remaining hours of your internship at some other department of the medcentre. You know…something less painful. Perhaps the delivery room?” Tarlo shrugged and went to take his protective suit off. “See you tomorrow, professor?” “Yes, report to my office at fourteen hundred, please. Good night.” Tarlo took out the keycard and closed the door behind him. There was a hint of the scent of fresh air in the cantina garden. He went out and sat down to enjoy the view. “Sunfruit juice, Master?” A waitress droid approached him and bowed. "Cold, of course!" “Please.” He nodded. Waiting for his beverage to arrive, he slowly pulled the correct datacard from his hair and tucked it into his denym trousers pocket. That was close!