[center]~| 10:14 - 11:41 GST, Miasa’s quarters |~[/center]

Though Miasa had had fairly free reins with the creation of the new hand for the prisoner Nazca, she did not have such with this new arm for the Sith Lord, Sish. She would have to be careful there. If she were to make it too weak, she would offend the Sith Lord. If she were to make it too powerful, her master, Darth Nyiss, would be angered. Neither of those results were desirable, and she knew well that her pride in doing a good job prevents her from making flawed cybernetics. From the moment she got the message about constructing a cybernetic arm, her thoughts began churning out ideas.

The first step, of course, would be to replace whatever remained of the Sith Lord’s shoulder with a suitable bracket and interface. It would not do to have the flesh begin to fester and rot. She might not approve of Lord Sish’s methods or behavior, but he was still a Sith Lord and thus worthy of a modicum of respect. 

With only a brief knock to announce his presence, Sish entered Miasa’s quarters, still carrying his other arm. He nodded in greeting before moving to his reason for being her. “Miasa. I assume the Darth has already informed you of my punishment and the fact that I’ll be needing a new arm? I’m going to assume she told you not to make it too useful. So no weaponry. Lightsaber resistant, cortosis perhaps, and claws are all I’ll be getting.”

The moment the Sith Lord stepped into her chambers, Miasa composed herself and began to study her patient.

“Lord Sish.” she said, looking him in the eye. If he was in any sort of pain, it did not show.

“I will have to cut into your shoulder to remove the burned flesh and bone before attaching the brackets and interfaces. Do you need anesthetics before I do?”

Sish waved a dismissive hand. “No. Save them for the others. Pain is something I am well acquainted with.” He turned armless shoulder to Miasa for her to begin cutting, dropping his arm on the ground nearby.

“I will not rush the construction of your new arm. You can have a temporary limb attached to the shoulder while I make a proper one, or you can be without one. The temporary limb will have limited functionality and be nothing like the final product. It will not be suitable for combat.”

Sish thought for a moment before making his decision. “No temporary limb. It’d merely get in the way the next time I have to fight.” Though he chafed at the delay of his new arm, he knew a rushed one would merely result in his death. Sish gave a light chuckle as he realized that he was getting the same arm as the apprentice he had killed.

“You do not shy from pain. Good.” Miasa said with a hint of respect as she deftly cut into his shoulder. Though lightsabers cauterized the wounds they made, preventing excessive bleeding, they wreaked havoc upon the tissue in the process. Though the limb had been severed cleanly without removing the shoulder, much of the tissue there was ruined. 

“I will remove much of the shoulder joint. The flesh is ruined.” she said, cutting into it, using a laser scalpel to cut flesh and bone alike. In some ways, it resembled a lightsaber, but it was tiny and much more focused, singeing shut veins and arteries, but not damaging the underlying tissue. If the Sith Lord was in any sort of pain, he did not show it. That alone was an indicator of his self-control while unprovoked. 

“Very well. Ruined flesh is weak and useless anyways.” Sish merely waited as the scalpel began to sear through what remained of his shoulder. Compared to the pain of before, this was nothing.

Once the ruined tissue was gone, Miasa began the real work, isolating nerves, looping veins and arteries, hooking muscle fibers in place. It was a slow process, but it could not be rushed. Rushing meant mistakes. Mistakes meant failure. Failure led to bad things. That process took a good hour, but once finished, the only sign he showed of having been harmed was the ebony-black framework where his shoulder used to be. After the arm was built and attached, she would of course cover that up with proper armor plating, but not before.

“It isss done, Lord Sish. You may depart. Leave the arm. I have use for it.”

After the excruciatingly slow process was done Sish reflexively went to roll his aching shoulder, and merely shook his new framework. “Thank you, Miasa.” He turned to regard the other Sith, nostrils flaring slightly as he took in her scent, nearly hidden by the stench of burned meat. “What use would that be?” He asked, shifting to better face her. He was merely curious. If the Sluissi had wanted to kill him, she would have done so while he had presented his weak side to her. 

“Several.” Miasa answered enigmatically. She had plans for it, and she did not see fit to share them, not even with a Sith Lord. He might not fully approve of all the plans she had in place. She did not care. Her master had given her a task and she would see that task completed, even if it would be in her own fashion.

Sish narrowed his eye at Miasa. “Enlighten me.” That vague answer had put him on the defensive. He wasn’t about to leave his arm with someone who couldn’t answer a simple question directly. She had something to hide, something she didn’t want him to know. And that was never good.

Miasa found his suspicion bothersome, but should have expected it. “In order to accommodate my master's wishes, I have to make sure the claws are the right strength. To do that, I either have to have your arm, or you need to stick around for a long battery of tests.” She waited a moment before continuing, “The other reason is to give your new arm the right shape and girth. Scans and images do not give the same feel.”

Sish stared at Miasa for a few more moments, before giving into her ruthless logic. Even if he still didn’t trust her, Nyiss had commanded them both and he didn’t doubt she could get what she wanted (whether it was indeed what she told him or not) from his arm or himself during tests. “Very well.”

“I will contact you when your new arm isss ready.” 

Sish gave a nod before turning and leaving, wondering who he could find that could make sure his new arm isn’t sabotaged in some way by the Sluissi. That she would do it, the Trandoshan didn’t doubt. He was on a new battlefield, one where actual combat was frowned upon and every battle was fought with shadow blades and poisons.  [i]I hate this ship.[/i]