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Every vod knew Kamino was ruthless and any show of weakness had consequences. The most feared consequence being decoms. Thire had learnt that early on when one of his batchers was killed by the longnecks when they discovered he had a genetic abnormality. He was only two at the time, but he remembered the way ’65 bruised easily and complained about feeling exhausted all the time. Their batch had been monitored closely for signs of any more defects.
Thire had been on his best behaviour during the month-long observation period and ended up having some of the best marks in his batch as he pushed himself past his limits. They had all thought ’65 had been the only one unfortunate enough to have an anomaly. Then he turned five and suddenly his body was rebelling against him. Compared to the rest of his batchers, he knocked his limbs into objects more often and his growing pains seemed worse than everyone else's. His toes and ankles felt like they were sprained constantly from all the physical activity, and his whole body never stopped aching like he'd overworked himself.
He had been scared at first, worried something was wrong with him. But the rest of the batch complained about aches and pains after training too, so maybe he was just more sensitive to pain. Thire did his best to keep up with them and tried not to complain when his knees would click and shift or he felt like every part of him was bruised. Then Yale, his oldest batcher, had asked why he was limping as they went to bed.
“My knee really hurts,” Thire admitted.
Yale frowned. “What? Did you injure it in training yesterday?”
“No, it’s just the normal stuff.”
“Normal stuff?” Pebble chimed in from his pod.
Thire started to feel uneasy. “You know, when your knee doesn’t feel like it’s in the right place but once it pops then it’s fine.”
Pebbles and '70 shifted in their pods to peer down at him.
“That’s not normal,” Yale said slowly. “Right guys?”
“I mean, my knees hurt like crazy when we did all those squats one time,” ’70 offered. “I don’t think that’s the same thing though.”
Yale jumped out of his pod and came over to Thire, looking worried. “Show me your knee.”
Thire shuffled to the edge of his pod and obediently let his brother poke and prod his sore knee, kicking his right leg back and forth.
“I think you should see a medic,” Yale said uncertainly. “Remember when Pebble hurt his shoulder in our fourth cycle? I think it’s like that.”
Thire remembered the pain on Pebble’s face and the way his shoulder had dangled out of its socket limply after he’d needed to quickly stop his rope descent. He stared at his knee dubiously. It didn’t look like the same thing, and he said as much to his oldest batcher.
“Your knee’s really loose though,” Yale insisted. “Maybe it’s a milder form of uh- dislocation? If a medic hasn’t treated it, then it won’t get better.”
Thire didn’t remind him that it came and went all the time. Maybe Yale was right. None of them were in the medic track anyways.
“Maybe,” he agreed. “I’ll go to the medbay tomorrow before flash training. I don’t want to be caught in the halls after dark.”
“Doesn’t it hurt though?” ’70 asked.
Thire shrugged. “I can handle it. It only hurts a lot when I move the wrong way or stand on it.”
“Alright. I’ll come with you though,” Yale said.
“Thank you ori’vod.”
-
Thire had dislocated his patella, according to the trainee that treated him. A partial dislocation of your knee, Pathogen had explained when they looked confused. He’d put it back into place easily and instructed Thire to hold the icepack on it before he went to fetch a senior medic.
“This is Fracture,” Pathogen introduced.
The senior medic nodded at them. “I’ll take it from here vod.”
“Is there something wrong?” Yale asked nervously. “I thought Pathogen just needed to relocate Thire’s knee.”
Fracture shook his head. “He did. There are just some things I want to talk to Thire about before we release him.”
Thire gripped Yale’s hand when the medic looked at him. His mind flashed back to ’65 involuntarily and how he'd had a genetic defect. “There’s something wrong with me, isn’t there?” he asked quietly.
“Yes,” Fracture confirmed. “It’s hard to know precisely what your condition is but the experiences you talked about are consistent with some form of hypermobility disorder.”
Yale paled and clutched Thire’s hand tighter. “What does that mean?”
“It means that Thire’s much more likely to experience dislocations and muscle pain, including the various problems that can occur from that like a trapped nerve,” Fracture explained calmly. “It can affect more than just your joints though. For example, you might feel fatigued a lot or be more prone to bruises and scarring.”
Thire felt sick. “Are they gonna decom me, like ’65?”
Fracture tapped a finger against his pad. “Officially, we only treated you for a subluxation. Anything we’ve just talked about is off record, so the longnecks won’t know about if you're subtle.”
“Okay,” he replied shakily.
“Vode An, vod’ika,” Fracture softened. “Your batchmates will have your back.”
Yale looked determined. “Of course we will! We always will.”
Thire leaned into his ori’vod, trying to forget the way ’65 had looked at them with teary eyes as he’d been taken away from them. If the longnecks came for him, his batchers would have to let him go or risk being reconditioned. He vowed to himself that he would put all his effort into being the perfect soldier so the longnecks would have no reason to suspect anything, even if he had to quietly suffer for it.