Prologue: Caught
Pain. That was the first thing I remember about waking up. My body hurt in ways I didn't even know were possible. Which is saying something as I have had plenty of close calls in the past, this one must have been bad though I couldn't really remember at the time. Groaning I shut my eyes as tight as I could attempting to block out the intense, burning light that pounded mercilessly against my eyelids, in time with the blood in my head.
"Ms. Suul? You are awake, yes?" came a stern, coarse voice from somewhere to my right.
However, at that moment my body decided that that was the perfect moment to react to the pain it was in. For as I opened my mouth to tell the voice to shove off, my stomach rejected everything I had ever eaten, or so it seemed to me. I rolled to the side away from where the voice had come from, out of some hidden courtesy I didn't even realize I possessed, and heaved until my convulsions were dry and I began to cough. Finally, I was able to lock out the pain and harness my internal sense of calm, and stop my dry vomiting. I cleared my throat, rolled to my back, sat up, opened my eyes and licked my lips. An action I automatically regretted upon completion, as the lingering taste of stomach acid on my lips burnt my tongue. I looked at the man sitting to the right, by the biobed I was on. "Yes. I am awake-unfortunately." The man did not look like a member of the exchange or a pirate, what with his clean shaven face and standard issue clothes, and in conjunction with the well-lit cleanliness of the facility we were in, I knew he either had to be with the Sith or Republic Fleets. "Don'r suppose I have the right to ask what happened or where I am? Do I?
"So you know you are under arrest?"
"Usually, when I wake up somewhere this clean, that's what that means." I shrugged regretting the movement as it sent another wave of pain shooting down my spine and brought another bout of nausea. "So why am I in a cushy place like this, instead of rotting in some prison?"
"The Republic has a proposition for you." He said, not bothering to mask his displeasure at the idea. "As I am sure you are aware," he remarked pompously, "the fleet is in desperate need of recruits and as the Sith continue to their onslaught, we have fewer and fewer planets from which to draw reserves. . ."
"Oh no. I see where this conversation is goin'. Look as much as I would love a: get-out-of-jail-free card. . .surely you can see that I'm not exactly fleet material. I mean, uh, I'm a smuggler for Force sake! And I'm not exactly in top condition right now either- I really doubt any self-respecting officer is going to want a recruit barfing all over their overly shined boots. Plus, don't you have to be like 5'5" or something? I only can pass for 5'3" if I where my dress boots. Not to mention -if the way I feel and the fact that I am here are any indication- I'm guessing my cargo was either stolen or destroyed along with my ship (which was not payed off by the way) which means not only am I going to have a very angry ship dealership on my hands, but also that, if I didn't already, I'm going to have a rather large bounty on my head." I said in one breath pointing out the reasons why this brilliant Republic plan was not going to work.
"Unfortunately Ms. Suul, as much as I agree with you, the fleet could use a person with you . . . talents in these troubling times." he added the last bit grudgingly. "And the Republic is willing to pay off your substantial debts for you."
"Hey look old man! I ain't lookin' to be a Republic charity case, all right? And I ain't no Republic servant. I don't need your job or your credits, so why don't you tell your superiors where the can stick. . ."
"Ms. Suul, I am afraid the only other choice you have is to go to prison. In fact, that is not even a option. This is not a request. Welcome to the Republic Star Fleet. You start your training as you have been properly healed. Don't worry this is not a charity. This is desperation in war times. And believe me. . .If it were up to me, we would have left you in that wreck of a garbage scow you called a ship, to die a slow and painful death. I don't give wamprat's backside if most of your registered offenses were never proven or if they were against the Sith, and not the Republic. You are a criminal. And deserve to reap what you have sewn. However, this matter is not up to me, so I suggest that you leave your attitude and your smart mouth in kolto tank when you come back out, because I don't care if you are a forced recruit, requested by the Jedi Council itself, you are going to find training to be more painful than that explosion if you do shape up. Good day to you, Ms. Suul." And with that he swept from the room, leaving me alone with my dismal thoughts of being trapped and the over-bright lights belonging to, what I now knew to be a medical center, pounding in time with the pulse in my head,
"Well frack." I mumbled. "It's not as if I wanted to be a criminal. Jezz. What a grouch."
