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A cadet comes in for a torn muscle, scowling and clutching his arm. He looks embarrassed, as clones unlucky enough to go to the medbay often do, so Mij doesn’t bother with any pleasantries.
He gets the cadet propped up on a cot, and briskly grabs a bacta shot, injecting him without any further fuss.
“You’ll be healed up in about an hour,” he says, already turning away. “You’re free to stay here until then, or head back to your—”
A terrible choking noise cuts him off, and Mij whirls back around, caught off-guard.
The cadet is choking, clutching at his throat as color blooms in his face, and Mij moves quickly, training kicking in without even thinking about it.
He grabs another hypo, injecting it as he grips the cadet’s arm, moving him into a better position to try and increase the airflow.
Mij busily takes scans, calculating probabilities in his head, and he pauses, dumbstruck, as he registers the treatment he just gave.
An antihistamine.
It worked, clearly—the cadet is already looking better, heaving big, gasping breaths, but…
“Oh,” Mij says, the realization washing over him. It is not a pleasant sensation. “You’re allergic. To bacta.”
The cadet doesn’t reply, still too busy catching his breath, but Mij doesn’t need it. He turns away, pacing back and forth along the medical cot as he tries to collect his thoughts.
Over the years of his service on Kamino, Mij has seen plenty of clones with issues. Many of them could be fixed, or dealt with in some productive way (now, whether the Kaminoans cared enough to take that opportunity was besides the point), but some problems were permanent.
An allergy to bacta, of all things, cannot be fixed.
There are alternatives. Herbal remedies, different forms of treatment that wouldn’t result in the cadet’s throat closing up.
But who would waste those resources on a clone? Mij has a hard enough time convincing the Kaminoans not to recycle a clone with a speech impediment, and it was hardly like Jango would bother to speak up about it. He barely interacted with the clones if he could help it, and Mij preferred it that way. Less blood for him to mop up in the aftermath.
“What’s your designation?” he snaps, mind racing a mile a minute.
There’s a pregnant pause as the cadet swallows heavily, and then answers.
“CC-1010, sir,” comes the hoarse reply. He sounds awful. This isn’t a mild reaction.
“CC-1010, you’re to remain here for observation overnight, are we clear?” Mij says briskly.
“Yes sir.” CC-1010 bows his head, and lays back down, looking rather grateful for the chance to rest.
Mij fiddles around with the equipment by his cot for a moment longer before he can no longer distract himself, and retreats back to his office.
There’s a one-way window in here, giving him a view of the whole medbay.
Mij sits at his desk, and watches CC-1010 sleep.
The kindest thing to do would be to kill him. Mij could make sure it wouldn’t hurt. A mercy, imparted while he sleeps. The cadet would never even know what was happening.
If Mij doesn’t do it, and this defect gets discovered, Mij has no doubt that the Kaminoans would pick CC-1010 apart, piece by piece, to see exactly where they went wrong. It would probably doom the rest of his batchmates too, just in case they had signs of the same issue. And even if they didn’t, scientists like the Kaminoans would want the data for comparison.
He sits there for hours, contemplating.
It would be easier. It would be safer.
But would it be better?
By the next morning, he’s made his decision.
They aren’t alone in the medbay when it’s time for CC-1010 to be dismissed, but Mij is able to hide his actions in the hustle and bustle of the area as droids and clones stream around him.
“Do not get hurt,” he murmurs into CC-1010’s ear, as he helps the cadet off the cot. It’s an impossible ask, but it’s the best he can do. “Or if you do, don’t use bacta. Don’t go to a med-droid. Anyone other than me will report you, do you understand? Survive until graduation. Find a good medic. Make it work. Do you understand?”
“Yes sir,” CC-1010 says, face grim, but his arm is healed and his throat is clear, so he heads out of the medbay with no further trouble.
Mij watches him go.
Maybe that wasn’t the right decision. Maybe all he’s doing is setting that kid up for failure.
But this is the only decision he can live with.