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“I don’t like this test,” Omega says quietly, stopping short of the door, resisting the hand that presses against her back between her shoulder blades.
“Growth is rarely comfortable, Omega,” Nala Se says. “It is only forty-eight standard hours. You will be fine.”
Omega can’t seem to make herself move, staring at the windowless door to the windowless room. She has grown to dread it with a deep seeded fear she cannot quite grasp. Omega stumbles when Nala Se gives her a firm push, but the Kaminoan’s hand moves to grip Omega’s shoulder, keeping her upright.
“What does it do?” Omega asks, stalling. “What does this test prove?”
“That is classified,” Nala Se tells her.
Another push, and the door slides open with an airy swish of movement. Another push, and Omega is standing inside.
“I don’t want to do this,” Omega pleads, spinning around to face the scientist. “Don’t make me do this, please?”
Nala Se blinks. “It will be over soon,” she replies, and the door closes with silent finality.
Omega is left alone with the roaring silence.