Awake and Alone

[James Prent]

I was slowly healing - my hands and my legs from my knees down were still wrapped in gauze, but all things considered, I was ahead of schedule. At least, that's what the doctors said.

Sanis, my newly discovered half-brother, had taken Layla and left. I'd been on my own a week, and let me tell you - life with the Rebel Alliance isn't very exciting. I'd been resting for days. Supposedly I wasn't healed up enough to start physical therapy yet.

So I lay around in the med ward which was mostly deserted except for the droids, and worried about scars. The med droid had assured me that the chances of me being scarred for life were very low, especially considering what they could do with skin grafts these days.

Yeah, that was reassuring.

I turned over another sabbac card with my bandaged hand, playing a complicated game of solitaire on my lap.

[Dasquian Belargic]

The medical droid that had been idling in the ward suddenly whirred to life, awakened by the sound of approached footsteps. A familiar face appeared in the doorway. If the droid could have sighed, it would have. “Master Belargic... what have you done now?”

“Just a sprained wrist, I think, Too-Onebee,” Dasquian replied, as he twisted his hand back and forth, flexing his fingertips. In one corner, he saw James Prent and smiled as she looked up from her card game.

“ Another scuffle with Miss Van-Derveld?”

Belargic gave an unapologetic shrug, and took a seat on one of the many empty beds. The droid gave a distinctly disapproving hum as it followed after the Director. “I don't know why I bother – you'll be back in here tomorrow, complaining of something else. Would you like a full check-up while you're here?”

Dasquian stifled a laugh, holding up his hands in defense. “No, no thank you, Onebee.”

The droid muttered to himself as he handed an icepack to Dasquian. He gave instructions that it should be held in place until the swelling went down, after which a bandage could be applied, and then scuttled away, apparently having far more important things to attend to. Dasquian shook his head. “Such a pleasant bed-side manner.”

Up on his feet, he wandered down the ward towards the only other patient present.

“Solitaire? Ouch,” he feigned a wince. “You must be bored. Onebee isn't the best of company, is he?”

[James Prent]

I flicked another card face up, and scowled as I went bust. With a melodramatic sigh, I looked up at my visitor, "He doesn't play games. They aren't in his programming."

I leaned back against the pillows that were helping me sit up, adding, "And he keeps calling me 'Master' James. Which is my name - that last bit, that is - but..." I trailed off, embarrassed at my sudden talkativeness. "Anyway. I'm not allowed out of bed because of my feet."

I moved the offending limbs a tad, the blanket covering my legs and feet moving slightly.

[Dasquian Belargic]

Dasquian gave a nod and sat back against the bed next to James'.Considering the condition that she had arrived in, it was wonderful to see her up and active, even if she was confined to the med ward for the time being.

“How are you feeling? It's a slow process... but the droids seem to think you're ahead of schedule, that you'll be tackling physio' in no time.”

[James Prent]

"Eh, I'm all right. Considering." I looked at him out of the corners of my eyes while I scooped the cards all into a pile on my lap. I didn't really feel like confessing how I really felt, but I had the feeling he could tell. What with being a spy and all, he could probably read body language like other people read datapads.

"You're Dasquian, right? Agent Belargic?" I was having difficulty with the sabbac cards due to the gauze on my hands, but I gamely kept trying to get the deck together.

[Dasquian Belargic]

“That's right.” Dasquian was surprised that she could remember his name. Perhaps one of her shipmates had brought her up to date since her recovery. He watched as she fumbled with the sabacc deck. “Want me to give you a hand with those?” he asked, nodding to the cards. “I'm a little bit rusty but if you'd like someone to play against... I think can I just about remember the rules for Corellian Gambit.”

[James Prent]

I took my hands away from the cards and let him retrieve them from my lap. "Sounds good. I'm not all that great at it - my friends and I used to play some on Nar Shaddaa, but I usually lost."

I pressed the button on the side of the bed that directed mechanical arm to provide me with a solid surface for eating. Settling back in the pillows again, I added, "And, I'm broke, of course."

[Dasquian Belargic]

Putting his ice-pack on the cabinet beside James' bed, Dasquian set about shuffling the cards and found it more difficult than he had anticipated. With her hands bandaged, and one of his swollen, they only had one good hand between them. Smiling to himself at the thought, Dasquian hoped the same could not be said for their cards. As he dealt, Dasquian remarked: “Growing up on Nar Shaddaa must have been interesting.”

[James Prent]

I laughed, somewhat bitterly. "You could say that. Yeah, interesting."

He dealt out the cards, three a piece, and placed them in my hands, facing me. "No peeking," I pulled them in close to my chest with a wry smile. "Anyway, I am very grateful for the care I've been given here. It has been... an overwhelming last two weeks, that is all."

[Dasquian Belargic]

“I hope you haven't found your stay too dull. There's usually enough going on around the base to keep us all entertained.” Dasquian smiled then looked down at his hand: the six of coins, the two of flasks and the three of staves. He picked up another card – the Idiot – and frowned. “I heard that the group you were traveling with has left already... the Captain seemed eager to get away.”

[James Prent]

I sighed, "Yeah..." I tried to be in good spirits about it, but it had hurt me. I knew that he needed to keep moving, keep money coming in. But frell it, we just found out we were blood relations. And Lok - well I hadn't expected her to stay either.

But that was a lie, and I busied myself trying to rearrange my cards as Daquian picked up another one for me. He handed it to me, and I grinned lopsidedly. "I'm just fumble-fingers today, sorry."

[Dasquian Belargic]

“Don't worry about it,” said the Rebel, as he rearranged his cards. The pain in his hand didn't feel quite so bad when he thought about how James must have ached. “If you don't mind me asking, James... what is it that you do for a living?” he asked, picking up another card – the two of sabres, this time. It was better than The Idiot, at least.

[James Prent]

"Er..." I frowned at my cards, and tried to count the values in my head. My brain, however, was refusing to cooperate. "I was a waitress at a diner on Nar Shaddaa. Was taking some classes during the day - galactic history, that sort of thing, trying to get a degree. Not that a degree from the one university on the Smuggler's Moon means anything anywhere else, but still."

I sighed, "I'm sorry, I really can't get into this game." I laid my cards down, face up. "I think I bust already anyway."