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His understanding of the Wookiee language was rudimentary on a good day.

He could understand "Yes" or "No," and a few other medical responses to questions like "On a scale of one to ten, how much does it hurt?" but he wasn't going to be having any deep philosophical discussions with the big furry biped. Fortunately, he didn't have to. He gestured to C-4ME-0, who was filling a nearby bacta tank with fluid. The droid wheeled over, ready to translate.

"Good day," Uli said to the Wookiee. "How are you?"

"Wyaaaaaa. Ruh ruh?" The droid's dulcet tones made the snarls and moans of Wookiee-speak oddly pleasing to the ear.

The patient moaned a response, which 4ME-0 translated as, "For you, maybe."

The old Wook had kept his sense of humor, even though he was obviously still feeling pretty bad. Uli was glad to see that: a willingness to fight was the single most important aspect of the healing process, no matter the species.

"We're going to try something new," he continued. "We think maybe you have some kind of parasite. Probably been dormant in your system for years, and the immunosuppressives somehow triggered it. The internal medicine team has a broad-spectrum medication,