Chapter Text
Neevels stared at Ezra with growing unease in his gut, "Are you sure this is safe?"
Ezra made an unconvincing face, "Mostly. I know if done right, you'll be fine." That did not boost Neevel's confidence at all.
"You want us to commit to brain surgery without any explanation, and all you have to assure us with is 'you should be fine?'" Spider repeated skeptically.
"I'm not really good at explaining, okay?" Ezra gave a half heart shrug, "I can assure you this is important though."
Neevels sighed heavily and looked quickly away from Ezra's ad'vod akk eyes. Ezra had asked them all to the Temple, and now they were all sitting in the medical wing of the Temple as Ezra tried to talk them into brain surgery with very little reason as to why.
"Okay," Neevels tried, "Let's start from the beginning. Can you give us a justifiable reason to do this?" He held up his hand when Ezra opened his mouth, "Not what you think you need to say or even the truth. We trust you." He looked around at his brothers, who all nodded slowly. Trusting him but still unsure. Not that Neevels could blame them; Ezra, he , was asking a lot. Neevels met Ezra's gaze, "What reasonable story could you give us that justifies what you're asking?"
Ezra hesitated, clearly trying to compute what was being asked. Trying to come up with a believable lie. Neevels knew Ezra couldn't come out and sat the truth. Not here. Not now. It wasn't secure. It wasn't safe. And Neevels had seen the fear in Ezra's eyes that night he'd explained who he was and what he knew. This was a real and present threat. But it could not be spoken aloud.
"There are concerns about a virus affecting clones' brains. We need to take samples from all of you to run tests to see if we can't find a cure." A new voice made them all look up. A stern-looking woman in a different style of Jedi robe than Neevels had ever seen stared back at them firmly.
"Yeah, that works." Ezra nodded slowly, rubbing his neck, "Thanks, Master Che!"
The woman, Jedi Master Vokara Che, Neevels recalled, head of the Jedi medical wing, snorted drily, "I see trying to coach you on the correct words to use is still failing."
"It's not my fault I'm bad at persuasion! And you all won't let me flat-out lie!" Ezra threw his hands up in the air in a huff as the Jedi staff rolled Mirage, who was out cold but otherwise fine save for the bandage on his temple, back into the room.
"We can tell when something is not true." Che chastised lightly as she typed up Mirage's info into a datapad, "To trick a force user the words must taste enough like truth."
Ezra groaned theatrically, "Why can't it be dark enough for me to lie?"
"Kid." Spider said, lips tugging in a smirk, "You are seriously concerning."
Ezra squawked in fake offense, and Neevels snorted as Che tutted. "I am inclined to agree. Captain Neevels, you're next."
Neevels nodded, squaring his shoulders as he rose, "Alright."
"See you soon, Captain," Spider said supportively.
"You'll be fine!" Ezra beamed, "Probably."
Neevels shoved the man as he passed, making his vode laugh, and followed the Jedi healers farther back to the surgical suite.
They had him lie down and close his eyes. He did so as they moved around him, preparing, and tried to relax. In a few minutes, the threat he hadn't even known existed would all be over. The command chip in his head gone. Freedom.
Neevels wasn't sure he knew what that word meant. He thought he knew. But had he ever been free?
Sleep tugged on his mind suddenly, and he tried not to resist. This was the drugs taking hold.
What was freedom? Fighting a war? Endless green fields? Quiet nights with his brothers?
Neevels wasn't sure, but for the first time, he had a shot of finding out.