First draft
A few minutes later, Dia was in sickbay, trying to start a conversation with someone who didn't want to talk. Omen was pale, his face a bit gaunt, but he looked fine, all things considered. They looked at each other in silence, then Dia took a deep breath.
"This is starting to become a habit." She tried to joke to break the ice.
Omen, however, didn't laugh. "Yeah, well...sorry you had to deal with that. I shouldn't have lost my head like that."
"Do you want to talk about it?" Dia cast him a hopeful look.
"No." His answer was firm, definitive. Dia was trying to hide her disappointment when Omen added, "But I have to."
Dia waited on bated breath for him to speak, but he still looked conflicted. When she was beginning to think he had changed his mind, Omen released a long sigh. "Maybe it's better if you make yourself comfortable. This might take a while."
Dia didn't try to rush him while he put his thoughts in order. She just took a seat beside him and waited.
"This story starts almost ten years ago when I was still in the Navy." Omen started, speaking softly, slowly. "At the time my life seemed perfect. I had just gotten married and my career seemed to be on the right track. I was the first officer of the Seahawk, a Deumedon class battlecruiser. I was on the fast track to becoming captain when all of a sudden, I was transferred. My new assignment" A look of disgust came over his face. "was on a planet in the Pol system."
Dia raised a brow. "Pol System? Never heard of it."
Omen's mouth twisted into a bitter smile. "That doesn't surprise me. The only planet in the system, Sotilla, is a scrapyard, the sort of place where old ships go to die. A nasty hellhole: high gravity, low oxygen, and hot as hell."
"Ouch." Dia winced. "Did you step on someone's toes?"
A shadow passed over his face, a quick flash of anger distorting his features for a moment. Omen managed to shrug it off and his expression faded into neutrality. "I never found out, but it wouldn't surprise me. At the time, all I cared about was rising up the ranks." Omen sounded uncharacteristically bitter. "Anyway, the important part is that someone wanted me gone. That's why I was sent into exile."
Dia suppressed a grimace. "How long did you stay there?"
"Two years. They left me there to rot for two long years. Toward the end, I was so desperate I would've done anything in order to leave that hellhole. That's when someone offered me a way out."
"The ISS." She concluded for him.
Omen nodded. "Imagine my surprise when they told me that my first assignment was on Balora II, a planet in the Gaerius system. That's where my wife and son lived."
"You must've been beside yourself with joy." Dia said cautiously.
Omen gave her a curt nod. "I was. Being stuck in a junkyard was bad enough, but that wasn't the only problem. I was also worried."
Dia raised a brow, "Worried? Worried about what?"
"My wife. She..." He paused, his face tightening, "...she had a rare genetic mutation. Just like the old Huntington disease, it affected her nervous system. It was milder and not progressive but it still influenced her life."
Dia waited for him to continue, increasingly disturbed by Omen's distress and statements.
"The new workplace was less than two hundred miles from home. That's why I was so happy." His voice became hoarse, and his good eye turned totally black. "Of course, that was just the beginning."
"What happened?" She asked quietly.
"Nothing at first." He said in a droning, unchanging tone. "I spent most of the time training or learning about my new responsibilities. I was still getting used to my new life when my superior officer told me that the head researcher wanted to see me."
Dia nervously shifted in her seat. "Gibson?"
Omen nodded, his good eye was cold, filled with murderous intent. "He said to me that he was searching for new ways to treat genetic diseases."
"And you believed him?" Dia blurted out before she could stop herself.
"I had no reason to doubt him. At the time, I still had no idea of the true nature of his research." Frustration and remorse twisted Omen's face. "Anyway, Gibson knew about my wife's condition. That's why he wanted to meet me. He offered to include her in his new experimental program."
Dia listened with morbid fascination. She was well aware there was no good ending to the story, but she couldn't stop listening.
"I wasn't particularly keen on the idea." Omen continued. "I knew that an experimental treatment was bound to be dangerous, but I couldn't decide something like that on my own. So I asked for Emily's opinion."
"Did you wife...?"
"She decided to proceed with the treatment." He answered, and though his face had gone ash white, his voice was remarkably level. "She knew the risks but did it anyway. She did it for our son."
Comprehension dawned on Dia's face, then dread wormed its way through her stomach. "Don't tell me your son..."
Omen didn't answer her. His eye was out of focus, his face as white as sheet. "Everything seemed to be going well at first, so well that we decided to treat Jimmy too."
Dia closed her eyes, fighting off a sweeping wave of sickness.
"I think you can deduce the rest of the story from there."
"Gibson experimented on them." She said softly, her eyes still closed.
"Yes, he did." Omen's calm, detached tone chilled her to the bone. "My son was lucky and passed away quickly, but Emily...what she became at the end...she was no longer human." He said quietly, his face drained of all expression. "They were just the first victims. Within one week all the patients ended up that way."
"...what happened after that?"
Omen smiled without humor. "That's the thing. Nothing. Nothing really happened. Hundreds of people died because of Gibson's experiments, but no one talked about it."
"How is that possible? How could he keep the secret?"
"It was easier than you think, corporal." Omen's tone turned cynical. "Gibson had the emperor's full support and his patients were basically prisoners. They were not allowed to have any contact with the outside world."
"Still, we aren't just talking about a few people, but hundreds of them." Dia persisted.
"Every year, tens of thousands of people vanish without a trace, corporal." Omen said. "Besides, Gibson was very careful. The people he chose came from all over the Empire. That's why no one noticed what he was doing."
Dia remained silent for a moment, trying to digest what he'd said to her. Then she shook her head. She couldn't shake the feeling that something didn't add up. "Sorry Omen, but I have to ask, why did Gibson choose your wife?"
"Emily's condition was extremely rare, corporal." Omen answered. "Gibson probably wanted to know how the mutagen would affect her."
"Fine, but you worked there. What if you find out the truth?" Dia objected. "Wasn't Gibson worried?"
"I was just a rookie, corporal. I had no access to confidential information." Omen replied. "Besides, Gibson presented himself as an idealistic genius, a healer. I had no reason to doubt his intentions."
"So he was acting." Knowing Gibson, Dia wasn't that surprised. "Why?"
"Because he wanted to gain my trust." Omen spat, his resentment almost palpable.
Dia frowned. "Your trust?"
"Yes." Omen nodded grimly. "I suspect that Gibson studied me and my family for months before putting his plan in motion. He knew that my wife would never accept his offer if I was against it."
"But earlier you said..."
"I said I wasn't keen on the idea," Omen interrupted. "but I never said that to Emily. I don't know, maybe deep down I hoped Gibson would succeed." Omen shook his head. "But that's not important. The only thing that matters is that Gibson may have planned this from the beginning."
Dia widened her eyes. "But if that's true..."
"...Gibson may be responsible for my fall from grace." Not a hint of emotion crossed his eye. "It's a possibility, corporal. Regrettably, I never found any hard evidence to support that theory." His tone suddenly turned impersonal, cold. Like someone flipped a switch, his anger, his pain - all his emotions - were gone.
"Didn't you try to search for him? I mean after your wife and son...passed way."
"Of course. I tried everything, called in favors, even addressed a formal letter to the Hierarchy, but it was all useless. Of course," He continued, his lips curling into a self-mocking smile. "at the time I didn't know that the Emperor was protecting him." Omen stared at her intensely. "But he wasn't the only person helping him."
"You mean the Umbra. You mean..."
"Reyes, yes." His lifeless eye flashed, "Anyway, as I kept asking questions, someone answered me eventually. They told me the project was scrapped and that Gibson was dead. I didn't believe them of course, but I was just a rookie agent. I had no way of finding him. So I bided my time. I did everything they told me to do and moved up in the ladder. Eventually, I became one of the ISS top agents, but even that wasn't enough. When I tried to use the ISS resources to find him, I discovered that I didn't have enough clearance." The last word dripped heavily with venom. "Whatever Gibson was doing was so important that only the emperor and maybe the director of the ISS knew where he was. I was starting to lose hope when finally one year ago, something changed."
"The emperor found out about Gibson's betrayal." Dia said softly.
Omen stayed quiet. They both did. Dia seemed to have passed into some sort of shocked state, beyond astonishment. When she finally managed to compose herself, she gazed mournfully at Omen.
"Omen. I..." She searched for the right words to say but could find none. "I don't know what to say."
"It's in the past. You don't need to say anything, Dia." Omen's voice softened slightly. "Besides, Gibson is dead now. He is dead." He repeated, and a strange expression came over his face. It looked like...regret? Dia couldn't tell. "But his old partner still lives." Omen continued. "We need to stop him."
"I agree," She said cautiously. "but how? Thanks to the cloaking device we may be able to land on the planet undetected, but that's our only advantage."
"We have to find the Greenhouse. Whatever the Umbra has in mind, that place is vital for his plans."
Dia scrunched her face. Easier said than done.
"I know what you're thinking. It won't be easy. That's for sure." Omen admitted. "On another note," He suddenly changed the subject. "can you tell me what happened at the station? I mean when the droids froze."
Caught unprepared, Dia's expression changed several times while she very visibly debated with herself how best to answer him. "I...I suppose you deserve to know the truth."
She spoke slowly at first, then quicker and smoother as she went along. When she was done, she was out of breath, like after a marathon. There was a moment of complete and utter silence, then Omen spoke.
"It seems pretty obvious that we just scratched the surface of your abilities." Omen said thoughtfully. "We should find a way to develop this new...skill of yours."
"Maybe I need a challenge." Acting on impulse, Dia blurted out.
Omen raised a brow. He seemed intrigued. "A challenge? What kind of challenge?"
"What about the Chair?" Dia tried to sound as casual as possible.
Omen crossed his arms, gaging her with an appraising eye. Dia shifted in her seat several times under his gaze.
"That doesn't sound like something you came up with on your own." He said after a long silence. "Who put you on this?"
"You're wrong. It's my idea." She tried to sound convincing, but her voice faltered a little.
Omen cocked an eyebrow at her, "Really?"
"Really." Dia said with more strength. "I think it makes sense. We need the cloaking device and since you can no longer use the Chair..."
Omen's gaze suddenly became sharp, "Who said that? Was it Sarah?"
"Omen, you're focusing on the wrong details. What really matters is that using the Chair is dangerous for you. But I'm different. I may be the only person in the entire galaxy who can use it without risks."
"You can't know that." Dia opened her mouth to argue, but he held up a finger, silencing her. "but there is some merit in your argument."
Dia couldn't believe her ears. It seemed way too easy. "So you agree?"
"Yes but on one condition." Omen raised one finger. "You will train with me."
Dia involuntarily shivered. "I don't think that's a good idea. You're still recovering. Besides, Sarah will kill me if I..."
"This is too important to wait." Omen said in a forceful tone that brooked no argument. "And don't worry about Sarah. She will understand."
"Understand what?" Right on cue, Sarah's face peered around the door.
They both turned to look at her.
"Sorry. I didn't mean to intrude." Sarah looked uncomfortable under their scrutiny.
"What is it?" Omen asked in a brusque tone.
Sarah's gaze shifted to Dia. "Someone wants to talk to you."
Dia frowned. "Someone? Who?"
Sarah made a disgusted face. "Our lodger downstairs."
Dia frowned harder. It took her a while to figure out Sarah was talking about Fanning.
"Did he say what it was about?"
Sarah shook her head. "No, not exactly. He just said that he knows what we are looking for."
Omen and Dia traded a look.
"How?" She asked.
Sarah shrugged. "You'll have to ask him yourself."
Dia looked at Omen. "I suppose I should hear what he has to say."
Omen nodded slowly. "That seems like a good idea."
Dia followed Sarah into the turbolift and then down to the brig. Along the way, neither of them spoke. The atmosphere between them was so tense that when they finally reached the brig, Dia breathed a sigh of relief.
She reached for the door and was about to enter when Sarah said, "Hang on, Dia." When Dia gave her a questioning look, Sarah's expression became complicated. "I want to apologize for before. I shouldn't have behaved like that."
Dia sighed. "Sarah, you don't need to apologize. I was wrong too. I shouldn't have mentioned Omen."
"No, you shouldn't have," Sarah's gaze grew sharp, though her voice remained soft as silk. "but that doesn't change the fact that you were right. Omen will not pull back. He can't."
"He has his reasons." Dia found herself defending him.
"Of course." Sarah said softly. "By the way, have you talked to him about the Chair?"
Dia's gaze became guarded. "Why are you asking?"
Sarah gave a tiny shrug. "I just want help. As you said, we need the Chair."
Dia's wariness went up a notch. "I thought you were against it."
"I was. But then I thought about it and realized that someone will have to use the Chair. If that's the case, better you than Omen." She admitted.
She spoke so candidly, Dia was caught off guard for a second.
"So? Do you want my help?"
"Thanks for the thought," Dia said, a bit of sarcasm leaking into her voice, "but it's no longer necessary."
Sarah looked surprised. "Don't tell me he...agreed to it?"
"Yes." Dia couldn't help but gloat a bit, and added, "Actually he agreed quite easily."
Sarah looked at her with suspicion. "How did you do it?"
"I can be very convincing." Dia answered evasively, then quickly changed the subject before Sarah could ask more questions. "By the way, Omen looks healthy enough to me. Is he really unable to use the Chair?"
Sarah's eyes became two slits. "Why? Do you think I'm lying?"
"No, but" Dia hesitated, searching for the right words. She knew she had to tread carefully on the issue. "maybe you're being a tad overprotective."
"Perhaps." Sarah answered mildly. "But let me ask you a question. Do you remember what happened when you first arrived on Daxum?"
Dia blinked in confusion. "Are you talking about when the junkies ambushed us?"
Sarah nodded. "More specifically, I'm talking about what happened to Omen."
"He was injured," Dia regarded her, puzzled. "but you know that already."
"Do you remember how he was injured?"
"He was charging at a junkie when..." Dia paused and looked at her sharply. "wait...where are you going with this?"
"Humor me for a moment." Sarah said. "When Gibson kidnapped you, do you remember what Omen's reaction was?"
Dia scrunched her face. The fact Omen had abandoned her was like an open wound. "He chased after Gibson."
"The mechs were invading the Undercity, there were junkies everywhere, and he decided to go after Gibson. Alone." Sarah said, the words carefully, deliberately pronounced. "And what about what happened at the station? He could have retreated but instead, he charged alone against who knows how many droids. Don't you see a pattern here?"
"He was trying to save me, Sarah." Dia said in a flat tone. "He was brave."
"Yes, he was, but he was also reckless. He behaved as he always does, without regard for his own safety." Sarah looked pained for a moment, "Almost like..."
"...he has a death wish." Despite herself, Dia found herself saying.
Sarah nodded gravely.
"I see where you're going with this but...that's impossible. Omen can't be suicidal. He just can't." She shook her head, refusing to believe it.
"And why is that?"
"Because every imperial soldier has to undergo a psych evaluation at least once a month."
"Omen spent months undercover." Sarah reminded her. "Besides, I think you're forgetting about his advanced mental conditioning. Trust me when I say it's basically impossible to make a mental health assessment of an ISS' operative."
Dia had to fight back the impulse to immediately dispute her assertion. Unfortunately, although she believed Sarah was exaggerating the size of the problem, she had to admit that there was some truth in her words.
Dia's lips pressed together in a grimace, "Why are you telling me this?"
"Because I want you to keep an eye on him."
Dia let out a sigh. "I will do what I can. That's all I can promise."
"That's all I ask." Sarah looked quite satisfied with her answer like a great weight had been lifted off her shoulders. She pushed the button, opening the door, but she didn't enter. "And Dia?Thank you." The doctor said with heartfelt sincerity.
Then she disappeared into the adjoining room, leaving her alone.
"Damn you, Sarah." She muttered as she stood in the empty corridor. "I really wish you hadn't told me."