Work Text:
Doctor Erix Wetziil was working late in his office when he heard an odd sort of noise, as though someone was crawling through the vents to his clinic in the next room. Maybe multiple someones, considering how much thumping there was… It was probably just the cleaning droids, he thought - it wasn't like there was a huge resale market for large and heavy pieces of optical diagnostic equipment, after all, and it wasn't that late - but as the stomping continued, he found himself wondering.
The security cam footage was of no help whatsoever - it simply showed the cleaner droid, moving about as usual - but there was something just a little bit off about the whole thing.
There was another noise, almost sounding like a crash, and Wetziil decided that maybe he would go check on all that expensive diagnostic equipment, just to be on the safe side.
Of all of the things he had expected to find upon entering his exam room, four heavily armed figures in full tactical combat gear lying in a heap on the floor had not made it onto the list.
"Can I help you?" Wetziil asked, frowning at them ever so slightly. They looked sort of like Clone Troopers in their white armour with coloured accents, but they were larger, somehow, with different helmets than Wetziil had seen on the holos. Also, the one on the top seemed to have a bloody handprint on his, which certainly wasn't helping to put Wetziil at ease.
"I told you this was a terrible idea," the one with the green armour muttered, squirming to try and get free of the others.
"It's a bit late to bail on the mission now, Four-Oh," the yellow and grey one said from the bottom of the pile.
Wetziil coughed awkwardly, trying to see if anything in the room had been broken with the clones' sudden arrival.
"Are you the… eye doctor?" The orange one said, rising to offer Wetziil an armoured gauntlet as the rest untangled themselves. "We were hoping you could help us out."
"I do have an appointment calendar and a receptionist," Wetziil said drily, although he did accept the offered handshake.
"We were actually planning on sneaking in and out without you ever knowing we'd been here," the yellow one said cheerfully, "but we'll keep that in mind for next time."
"There won't be a next time, di'kut," the green one hissed.
"Anyway," the orange one - who, in Wetziil's opinion, seemed to be the leader - said, "you do prescribe corrective lenses and all that, right?"
"Yes..?" Wetziil said cautiously. He was pretty sure that all of the clones were supposed to have been genetically engineered to have perfect vision, but he was also fairly certain they weren't supposed to be breaking into random clinics after hours, so it was hard to say.
"Great," the one with the blood armour said, shoving the green one forward. "Have at 'im."
Wetziil looked the armoured clone up and down, contemplating his options. It wasn't like he had anything else planned for the evening, he supposed, and this was definitely more interesting than the bolo-ball playoffs.
"All right, uh…"
"Delta RC-1140, sir," Green said, making absolutely no move to take off his helmet. "But you may call me Four-Oh if it's easier."
"I do have some caf and other refreshments upstairs," Wetziil said with a nod, before shooting a pointed look at the others, "if you would like to wait up there..?"
"Up to you, Four-Oh," Orange said, bumping Four-Oh's shoulder affectionately. "I'll keep these two out of trouble if you'd prefer."
Four-Oh glanced at the others, weighing his options. "You call giving Six-Two caf keeping him out of trouble?"
"Hey now-"
"You can go," Four-Oh said eventually. "I can handle myself."
Now that he was getting a better look at his surprise patient without his helmet on, Wetziil was struck by just how young the other man looked. Under the scars and layers of battle-hardened scowl, there were still traces of childhood in his features, capped off with a head of curls that had to be well beyond regulation length. Four-Oh couldn't have been much older than Ansylm was, and somehow, that made Wetziil all the more determined to help him out.
"I assume you have a specific reason for coming here?" Wetziil asked, putting on his best professional smile. "Not just a crazy idea from your friends?"
"My brothers did… strongly encourage me to come," Four-Oh admitted, "but yes. I seem to have developed a myopia that I can no longer adequately compensate for."
"Family can be like that," Wetziil said, giving him a small smile as he set up the autorefractor. "I have a nibling about your age-"
"You have a ten year old.. fish?" Four-Oh guessed, confusion clouding his expression.
"Child of my sister," Wetziil said awkwardly. "How do you feel about sunglasses?"
"It rains on my homeworld for 97.6% of the year," Four-Oh replied, narrowing his eyes. "Why?"
"I'll need to dilate your pupils for this, and it will suck a lot less if you have sunglasses for afterwards," Wetziil explained.
"Respectfully, sir," Four-Oh said, "I will take any amount of sucking in order to be free of Six-Two's questionable piloting skills."
Wetziil coughed awkwardly, suddenly very interested in his datapad. "That's uh…which one is Six-Two?"
"The loud one."
"In the yellow and grey?" Wetziil guessed. "Hold this over your left eye, please."
"That's him," Four-Oh said drily, carefully holding the cover as directed.
"I need you to read the smallest line of letters you can," Wetziil explained, gesturing to the chart. "Give it your best go and-"
"Esk," Four-Oh said, a note of finality in his voice.
Wetziil waited for a moment to see if he would continue. When he didn't, Wetziil made a note on his datapad, circling the word myopic several times just for good measure. "And with the other eye?"
Four-Oh frowned, moving the cover to his right eye. "The same."
"Well," Wetziil said, "the good news is you were correct!"
Four-Oh looked at him skeptically. "And?"
"The bad news is it looks like you're legally blind without corrective lenses," Wetziil said, frowning apologetically.
"I'm legally an object," Four-Oh said, "so I don't think that applies to me."
"Can I ask you something?" Wetziil asked.
"If it's 'how do you intend to pay for this'," Four-Oh replied, "I was planning on skimming it off the top of the account of a shady politician or perhaps your least favourite relative. Untraceable transactions through shell companies and spacecoin, of course, I'm not stupid."
Wetziil blinked several times. "Actually I was asking how you and your brothers had planned to do this if I hadn't caught you, but now I'm far more interested in the financial crimes you've just offered to commit."
Four-Oh shrugged casually. "It's not a crime if you're not a real person."
"Right," Wetziil said. "Okay. Well, uh… I'm going to do the drops now, so the autorefractor can gauge your prescription."
Four-Oh nodded. "Proceed."
"Do you have any other concerns?" Wetziil asked, "while we wait for the drops to take effect?"
"About my vision? Or in general?"
"Either, I suppose. But I can probably only help with the vision issues."
"I have been trying to work out whether a four-dimensional topographical sphere can have two or more inequivalent smooth structures, but so far I haven't had much success."
Wetziil blinked again. "Does that come up often in your line of work?"
"You would be surprised," Four-Oh replied. "Shall we proceed?"
Now equipped with a temporary pair of lenses and a pair of sunshades on top, Four-Oh followed Wetziil up the stairs to rejoin with his brothers.
"Well?" Six-Two said as they entered the waiting room, "What's the verdict, Doctor? Is he going to make it?"
All three of them had taken off their helmets, Wetziil noted, and they had amassed a small pile of trial frames on the table in front of them.
"No," Four-Oh said flatly before Wetziil could speak, "I won't. But as a parting gift, I'll give you half of my torrented holo collection."
"Only half?" Six-Two said, sounding offended. "Who gets the other half???"
"Three-Eight."
"Mir'osik," the red one - presumably not Three-Eight, although Wetziil wasn't entirely sure - muttered under his breath. "After we brought you all the way here?"
"We didn't even blow anything up!" Six-Two added helpfully.
"Which I do appreciate," Wetziil put in, "but no, your brother should be all right once we get him some glasses. I see you've selected some possible frame options?"
"We figured we could save you some time," the orange one said. "Since we have the same features and all."
Four-Oh shot him A Look. "You think I should trust these two with that kind of responsibility?"
"At least we can see," the red one said pointedly. "I think that puts us ahead of you."
"I don't need to see to know there's no way I would ever wear these," Four-Oh said, grabbing a heart-shaped pair off the table.
"But Fiiiiiiiix-"
"How about these?" the orange one interrupted, holding out a set of square frames. "They're durable and fit okay under my buy'ce."
Four-Oh shrugged. "And neither of these di'kut picked them?"
"I did."
"Great." He turned, handing the frames to Wetziil. "These ones."
"It'll take a day or two until they're ready, so if you want to come back-"
At the sight of Six-Two's growing grin, Wetziil added, "if you want to come back during business hours, I can help you with the final fitting."
"I think I can manage that," Four-Oh said. "It will give you some time to decide which sister you want to pay for this service."