Started playing an Edge of the Empire RPG with some friends. It's my first real RPG so I'm excited and nervous. Not used to the whole being in character thing. Anyways, we all came up with origin stories, as you do, and I'm putting mine up just in case somebody might like it. I'm quite proud; I like what I came up with.
Anyways, I hope you like it. Let me know what you think!
The comlink went off several times before Cazil could bring himself to answer it. He'd only been asleep for an hour, according to his chronometer, and his body protested accordingly. He lay on the cot and sighed before deciding he'd better see what the emergency was. Crossing to the small table that served as a desk, he picked up the portable thumb-sized unit and turned it on.
"Doctor Cazil. What's the problem?"
"Emergency situtation." It was Hanover, Cazil's assistant. "Patient to arrive in ten minutes, badly wounded. Report says blaster wounds. They want the best."
"Of course they do. Unfortunately, they only have me. I'll be right there."
He reached for his boots.
xXx
Cazil had been expecting severe injuries, but he hadn't prepared for a barely breathing corpse. It took a few moments to even identify the patient as male. After a very detailed investigation, Cazil was able to determine that the man was middle-aged, 1.7 meters tall, and was wearing civilian clothes. It did not take a detailed investigation to determine that he had been shot at. Excessively.
As the medical orderlies pushed in the patient, Cazil saw a familiar figure in a black Imperial uniform.
"Commander Notter," Cazil greeted loudly. "How nice to see you. Lurking in the background as usual, I see."
"Doctor," replied Notter, stiffly ignoring Cazil's jibe.
"Couldn't get a human doctor?"
Notter straightened as if insulted. "You know very well I appreciate your talents."
Cazil snorted. "Just don't interfere, and I'll see to it your man survives."
"I certainly hope so," Notter replied. "I wouldn't want to see your reputation tarnished."
"Doctor, his vitals are weakening..." Hanover said.
Whirling around, Cazil pointed at the patient's black, charred leg. "Elevate that, and grab some wet towels. We have a long night ahead of us."
xXx
It was dawn by the time Cazil and Hanover were able to get the patient stabilized. Exhausted, Cazil leaned on the sink rim, stretching his back and legs. Shear adrenaline and focus had kept him going, but his one hour of sleep was catching up to him.
"It doesn't seem all that long ago I could be in major surgery all night and still have enough energy for a morning shift. Now, I can't even think. Give me some caf, or I'm going to collapse on the floor."
"Already ahead of you, Doc," Hanover said, handing over a steaming mug. "Just finished brewing."
"I'm going to write you the best recommendation ever for this." Cazil raised the mug to his lips and closed his eyes in weary appreciation.
"I've seen you fix up people I thought were dead, but I have to say you impressed me again this time."
"Get a few more years on you, and you'll be less easily impressed."
"If you say so," Hanover replied. "Hey, what's he still doing here?"
Cazil glanced up at the observation window overlooking the surgery area. Commander Notter was standing stiffly, staring down at the patient who was wrapped up in bandages and hooked up to a steadily beeping machine.
"Odd. He usually does that to me."
"Maybe even he is impressed."
"Not likely. I'm going to go have a chat. Someone with that kind of authority typically has a good reason to stare."
xXx
"Enjoying the show, Commander?"
Notter turned slightly. "Will he live?"
"I can't say for sure. It should be clear in the next day or so, if he responds to treatment, which he seems to be so far. At the very least, he'll have permanent damage and will lose a considerable amount of motor function."
Notter turned back to the window. "That won't be a concern," he muttered.
"Sorry?"
"It is not your concern. See to it that he receives the best treatment available."
"Of course," Cazil replied. "I always do."
xXx
"I can't believe he's still here. It's been three days and he's still hanging around. I don't get it."
"I told you, he has a vested interest in our patient. Once he recovers enough they can move him, he'll leave again. I expect another day and I can authorize his transfer." Cazil tossed down a card.
Hanover threw down his hand. "Seriously. I don't know why I try. I'm tired anyways. I'll turn in, if you don't mind. Wake me if you need anything."
"I'll be up for a while. If you can't sleep, I suggest reading up on your debridement techniques. Your knowledge seemed lacking."
"Of course, Doctor. Do try to get some sleep. You did most of the work." Cazil waved him off and Hanover left shaking his head.
When he was gone, the room fell silent. In the background was the patient's vital monitor, beeping quietly and consistently. Cazil could tell by the frequency that the heart rate was weak, but steady. Playing idly with the cards, he half-listened to the beeps, trusting his subconscious to alert him to any changes. After he lost interest in the cards, he grabbed a datapad that had the latest research journals.
He had been reading for an hour when a second beeping started. Deeply engrossed in an article on the latest Drakñahr Syndrome trial medications, it took his mind a moment to register that the new sound was not from his medical equipment but was the computer, signaling he'd received a message. Sliding the chair to the computer, he brought up the new message. It was short and unsigned.
You are in danger. Leave immediately.
Cazil frowned. A brief investigation found a very recent timestamp and must have been sent from inside the base. If the base was in danger, there would be a loud alert, not a text message. A mistake? He wrote a reply.
Who are you?
Irrelevant. You are in danger. Leave immediately.
Okay, message of danger was repeated, so not an accident.
Why?
The burn victim is an Imperial spy. All who have contact will be eliminated. Leave immediately.
His breath froze in his lungs. Could it be true? It was certainly plausible, but in a backwater Imperial outpost?
The door opened and Cazil shut off the computer.
It was Commander Notter.
"Still awake, I see?"
"Keeping an eye on the patient in case he turns critical again."
"Very good."
Remembering the message, Cazil eyed Notter. His breathing was steady, his stature as stiff as usual. No clear differences from the dozens of times they'd spoken.
"What happened to him? That many blaster wounds are hard to come by."
"No one of consequence. Doctor," Notter called as Cazil turned to leave. "Has he said anything yet?" Notter turned to look at Cazil. Their eyes met. For a brief moment, Cazil saw cunning, ruthlessness, and strength.
"No, no he hasn't. He's been unconscious since he arrived."
"Good. I expect his transfer orders by morning." The bureaucratic commander returned and he turned back to look at the patient.
"Yes, Commander," Cazil heard his voice say.
xXx
The first time Cazil had felt fear, true fear, had been when he'd been separated from his parents on the surface of Csilla. The icy winds seemed harmless enough standing at his parents' side, but the blowing snow clouded his vision and he thought he'd die alone on the ice. The second time had been after his first posting on an Imperial base. He had found out quickly that aliens were often despised by humans, and he had almost been shot by an Imperial merely for being Chiss. His years of service among humans had taught him independence and to ignore the glares of the Imperials. Nothing had prepared him for this.
Cazil was convinced that the message was plausible and that possibility frightened him. Getting up, he exited the medical bay and headed towards the crew quarters. It was late, and the hallways were eerily quiet. Turning the corner, he saw Hanover's door. Nervously, he activated the chime. A few long seconds passed. He rang it again. Still nothing. Maybe he's just exhausted and not awake yet. Cazil tried again for five minutes until he was certain Hanover was not in there. There were three logical conclusions that could be drawn from this information; Hanover had been called out on an emergency since Cazil was occupied with the alleged spy, he was at the mess hall (unlikely, considering how exhausted he'd been and they had eaten not long before), and the third was too outrageous and terrifying to consider.
He took a different route back to the medical bay, both to clear his mind and to see how the rest of the base was acting. Just in case.
A pair of stormtroopers nearly knocked him over, coming around a corner.
"This is a restricted area. Move along."
"I'm looking for my assistant, Hanover. I require him in the medical bay."
"All non-essential personnel are to return to their quarters until instructed otherwise. Where's your identification?"
Cazil produced it. The trooper glanced at it and handed it back.
"Return to the medical bay until instructed otherwise."
"But where is Hanover?"
"Not your concern. Leave this area or you will be removed."
Cazil considered pressing the issue, but realized it would gain him nothing except probably some injuries and a guaranteed prison stay. Holding his hands up in a non-threatening manner, he backed away and retreated back to the medical bay. All the way his heart beat loudly in his chest. They'd gotten to Hanover. His assistant had been there during the entire surgery and had nearly as much contact with the patient as Cazil did. Why hadn't they come for him yet? The transfer order. In order to make all this legitimate, they needed a Doctor's transfer order. Turning to the computer in the medical bay, he turned it on and found the messages from earlier.
How do I leave?
He waited. There was no answer. Cazil felt the onset of fast breathing and rapid heart rate that signaled a panic attack. He shook his head, clearing his mind. He was a doctor. He didn't succumb to such silly physical ailments. He inhaled slowly, then exhaled through pursed lips. Two more times and he felt calmer.
Clearly he had to get off the base. That would be difficult on an outpost, as he'd have to have proof of permission to leave. Subterfuge wasn't exactly a specialty of his, and he didn't know the architecture enough to find another way out. He didn't believe in blind luck; his only hope was whoever had sent him the warning. He glanced at the chronometer. It was early morning; in a few hours he expected Commander Notter would demand his transfer. He didn't want to think what would happen afterwards. He'd have to do something. Being imprisoned simply for healing a wounded man was ludicrous and he wouldn't give them the satisfaction of an easy victory. He shook his head again. No point in worrying. It wouldn't help. He glanced at the computer screen.
Cargo Bay 47A
Cazil leaned forward in disbelief. Then, slapping the power, he turned off the computer and exited the medical bay. He was so focused on his mission that the pair of stormtroopers outside surprised him, and he stepped back, startled.
"You are required to remain in the Medical Bay."
Cazil thought fast. "Medical emergency in the mess hall."
"The mess hall was evacuated."
"Tell that to the man with the amputated arm."
The trooper stared at him for a moment. Cazil's heart was beating too loud; he needed to calm his breathing. Finally, he was waved through.
"Return to the Medical Bay when finished."
"Where else would I go?" Cazil muttered, hoping the helmet cams weren't too sensitive. He swept past, walking quickly and with purpose, and he was generally left alone. He regretted not carrying a medkit to substantiate his story.
The hallways remained quiet, but he could hear movement down some hallways, and saw a few stormtroopers in the distance. It definitely seemed like something was going on.
No guards stood in front of the cargo bay. Cazil avoided pausing, in case someone was watching, but there was no sign anyone was in the area. It was dark when he entered, but he heard a faint sound. A dim light appeared in the corner, behind a pile of crates. Cazil crept towards it, avoiding bumping into anything. The light was coming from a small hand-held lantern. Illuminated by the lantern was a small comlink. Cazil hesitated, but he could almost hear the footsteps of approaching stormtroopers. He picked up the comlink and turned it on.
"I'm here."
"Find the maintenance shaft in front of you." The voice was mechanical but Cazil detected breathing, so not a droid.
Cazil found a maintenance panel in the back corner. He crawled. And crawled. His knees began to protest. He crawled. His shoulders began to ache. Finally he ran into a hatchway. Opening it carefully, he saw the shaft had led him to the shuttle bay. His heart pounding in terror, he glanced around, hoping he hadn't alerted a patrol. There were a few stormtroopers surrounding a large shuttle, but the hatchway in which he crouched was protected from direct view by a pile of crates.
"I'm in the shuttlebay," Cazil whispered into the comlink.
"Leave the compound."
"You're kidding."
"If you wish to escape, you must leave the compound."
"I'm a doctor. I don't know how to distract ten Imperial stormtroopers."
"Observe them. You will find an opportunity."
Cazil rolled his eyes and tucked the comlink back into his belt. Fine. He'd gone too far to go back now; Notter would have his hide. Looking back at the stormtroopers, he watched them carefully. Two were guarding the tramp to the shuttle while the rest were wandering in pairs around the enormous perimeter of the bay. After a minute or so, he noticed that they were actually walking a patrol route. He saw another pile of crates along the wall and beyond that a large deactivated loader droid. When one pair of stormtroopers passed him, he crept along and when each armored head was pointed away, he sprinted, making it behind the crates with an agility that surprised himself. It took another two minutes, but another opportunity presented itself and he made it to the loader droid. Beyond that, there was a long stretch of empty space, then the edge of the shuttlebay. Beyond that was the naturally forested environment of the planet, full of plenty of places to hide.
His heart pounded in his chest again as he struggled to find another break, but the timing wasn't long enough for him to run past without alerting attention to himself. He waited. The stormtroopers passed by him a second time without him moving. There was no chance. A distraction would be the only way, but he was in no position to bring attention to anything but himself. He had nothing on him but that comlink. He considered throwing it across the room, hoping they'd follow the sound as it hit the ground, but that was a stupid idea and they'd be onto him in seconds. Blood pounded in his ears.
Suddenly, the intercom buzzed.
"Unauthorized access detected in Section 110C. All units converge."
The stormtroopers paused, and grabbing their blaster rifles, jogged into a tight formation and marched out of the door on the opposite side of the bay. Cazil stared in amazement. The only ones that remained were the two guarding the shuttle, and they had their backs to him. Shaking his head, Cazil ran out of the shuttle bay, careful his boot heels didn't make any sound on the hard floor. Feeling the breeze from the outside forest on his face, he exited the building and into the sunlight. Immediately ducking to the right, he was no longer in sight of anyone in the shuttle bay. Relief caused his blood pressure to decrease and he felt his chest heave with the air he'd been holding in his lungs. Reality jerked him back as he reminded himself that he still wasn't safe.
Cazil activated the comlink. "I'm outside."
"Proceed north for one kilometer. You will find a supply shed."
"Can you tell me if there's any patrols or anything?"
"There are."
"Were you the one who called away all those troopers?"
"Find the supply shed."
Cazil sighed, finally realizing he'd never get a straight answer out of this guy.
The midmorning temperatures were higher than Cazil's personal preference, but he felt better knowing he was surrounded by large trees that offered far more protection than the compound. He saw glimpses of stormtroopers, easily spotted in the dark browns and greens of vegetation. Keeping his head down and his footsteps silent, he kept his distance and avoided them completely. The supply shed was surprisingly easy to find. As Cazil approached, he noticed the door was open. Almost barging in, Cazil checked himself and pulled out the comlink instead.
"I'm at the shed. Are you inside?"
"Yes. It is safe."
Wishing he had a firearm or something, Cazil crept towards the shed door and hoped that he wasn't walking into a trap.
It was dark inside and Cazil blinked, letting his eyes adjust. A moment later, he saw a dark robed figure in the back.
"You are the one helping me?"
"Come," the figure said. The voice seemed male, but was definitely mechanized. The figure shifted and Cazil caught sight of a metallic mask where his mouth should be. He seemed humanoid, as Cazil had originally suspected.
"There are speeder bikes here. We will take them to a ship that will get you off the planet." Out of his robes the figure pulled out a holdout blaster and tossed it to Cazil. "You can use one of these?"
"Enough," Cazil replied, feeling the weight of it in his hand.
"This is the last opportunity for you to remain here. If you agree to my terms, you will be safely transported out of Imperial hands."
Cazil felt his chest tighten. "Tell me your terms."
"You will owe me a debt; many credits. I expect to be compensated."
"Debt? Credits? Why are you doing this? Why me? There are dozens of people who had contact with that man. Why save me? Why not Hanover?"
"I cannot use Hanover."
Narrowing his eyes, Cazil opened his mouth...but closed it. He felt a pang for Hanover. The young man had been starting a very promising career and it wasn't fair that Cazil had been the one to escape Notter's clutches. He couldn't help Hanover. There was only one course of action left.
"I have nothing but what I carry. I will not be a slave, but I will pay whatever debt you require."
"That is enough. Follow me."
The hooded figure led Cazil to a cluster of speeder bikes. Grabbing one, Cazil activated it and followed his rescuer through the doors opening doors in the opposite side of the building. The doorway led to a tunnel that descended underground in what Cazil realized was a sort of escape route or way to outmaneuver an attacking force by moving troops behind enemy lines. Being a doctor, Cazil was sure he was wrong, but it seemed to fit.
The figure led him through the forest for a long time. Cazil relaxed somewhat, feeling safe now that he had an ally. Not that he was really an ally, though. The issue of holding a debt-a substantial debt, it seemed-disturbed him. Cazil didn't like to owe anyone and always preferred things to be straight-forward, rather than this secretive plotting that had thrown his life into chaos.
Their destination at first appeared to be a plain mountainside, but as they got closer, small caves could be seen. As they approached even closer, the small caves grew and Cazil realized that they were actually quite large. Some even seemed larger than most shuttles. The figure took them through one of them. Once again plunged into darkness, Cazil's alien eyesight adjusted quickly and he saw his observation had been more than correct. There was a small ship parked just inside the mouth of the cave, away from glints of sunlight that could reflect off and alert patrolling ships.
The man parked his bike to the side and Cazil did the same. They walked towards the ship, the ramp descending as they approached. Silently, the figure walked to the cockpit and Cazil followed, afraid to say anything. He took a seat in the navigator's chair and watched the mysterious man fly the ship out of the cave and into the atmosphere without a single communication from the Imperial outpost. The blackness of space felt almost liberating. He slid out of the way as his rescuer punched in a set of coordinates and resettled in the pilot's seat as the ship went into hyperspace.
"Now would be a good time to get some rest. Your escape is complete, but your journey is not."
Knowing better than to inquire further, Cazil followed his advice and found a bunk in the back. He slept hard, exhausted from the absurdly long day that started with one severely injured patient. Medicine wasn't what it used to be.
He woke an indeterminate number of hours later feeling no less exhausted. Coincidentally, as he sat up, he felt the ship drop out of hyperspace. Returning to the cockpit, he saw they were entering orbit into an unfamiliar yellow planet with five moons.
"Where are we?"
"Ryloth."
"What's here?"
"This is where your journey begins. I cannot take you further. I must leave you here for you to make your own way."
"You're dumping me on a random planet?"
"It is not random. You can find work here. Remember the Imperials are not looking for you but if they learn who you are, you may be arrested or worse."
His chest pounded. "So I start over."
"You have useful skills. It will not be hard."
"I don't know what I was expecting, but I suppose it could be worse. I don't suppose I could trouble you for a few credits? I didn't have any on me when I had to run for my life."
"Here," said the man, digging into a pocket and holding out a gloved fist. Into Cazil's outstretched palm he deposited a handful of credits. "You can start a new life with this. This is not a gift; I expect to be repaid in full."
"I understand," Cazil replied, putting the credits in his own pocket. "Look, I know you're not doing this for sentimental reasons. You made that quite clear. Thank you, anyways. I will repay my debt in full."
"That is good."
"How will I find you again?"
"That will not be necessary. I will find you."
"Again, not sure what I was expecting."
-/-
The day was hot. In the streets, only occasional animals were seen in direct sunlight, the shade occupied exclusively by the town's occupants. There was nothing to do in such heat but move as little as possible and wait.
In the distance, a figure could be seen walking down the middle of the street. The Twi'leks smirked silently. Only fools and idiots were out at this hour. As the figure approached, condescension turned to sympathy as they saw the dirt-stained clothes, the stooped shoulders and the arms slack with exhaustion. Through the dust, blue skin and red eyes scanned the doorways along the street. He turned into the entrance of the local med clinic. Everyone sighed with sympathy, then promptly forgot about him.
"Can I help you?" asked the young green-skinned Twi'lek female cheerfully, despite the dirt collecting on the console and the patients moaning in the background.
"I'm looking for work."
"I'm sorry, but you'll have to seek employment elsewhere. The employment office is down the street..."
"I have extensive medical training. I served as a doctor for many years." The man slid a datapad forward with a blue-skinned hand. The young woman accepted it reluctantly, but glanced over it. Eyes scanned the text for quite a while, then reached for a button on the console in front of her.
"Doctor Ima'det, please come to the front desk."
"Is that satisfactory?" asked the man.
"This is...well, this is impressive. Your training and experience...there are about five people on all of Ryloth who might have similar skills."
A paler green Twi'lek appeared from the back room, and after reading the datapad shoved into his hands, Doctor Ima'det's eyes widened and grabbed Cazil's hand, shaking it vigorously.
"We would be honored if you would help us. We are sorely understaffed and your talents are gravely needed. If you can start now, we have some injuries that I'm sure you can take care of. Thank you so much, Doctor..."
"Call me Selic," the Chiss said. "And I expect to be compensated."