Pain enveloped him, even the idea of opening his eyes seemed too strenuous. Well, the pain did mean that he wasn't dead, and his curiosity to see where he was was beginning to overcome the pain. Slowly, and surely, he opened his eyes.

He was in a bed, a very comfortable one actually. He wasn't used to a comfortable bed, especially one with feathered pillows and clean linens. His finest bedding was the hammock he had aboard the RLS Legacy. The wallpaper was red and gold stripes, there was a wardrobe in one corner of the room, and a table next to bed, where a pitcher and basin sat.

"Oh thank goodness, you've woken up."

He looked towards the door and saw a woman, probably no older than 27, framed in the doorway. She wore a pale, yellow dress with lace trimmings and her blonde hair was tied by a single pink ribbon.

"Where am I?"

The woman closed the door and moved closer to the bed. "In my home. Or rather my parents home. This was my older brother's room, God rest him."

"What...planet?"

"Triss."

"I thought that I had died."

The woman smiled. "I don't blame you. When I had seen you fall from such a height, I thought you a goner. Thankfully, you had landed in a cart of hay. Had that not been there..."

"I fell?"

"Yes, sir. You had."

"Where had I fallen from?"

"It may sound absurd, sir, but...you'd fallen from the sky."

It didn't sound too absurd to him. The last thing he remembered was preparing to kill that damnable Jim Hawkins and then falling, rather floating, through the galaxy towards his death.

When he tried to move, the pain surged through him and he groaned. The woman pushed him gently against the pillow.

"Rest, sir. Your fall was not the only thing that had been broken; so had your right claw and you've also bruised many areas of your body."

It was then that he realized that his right claw was resting in a sling and that his red skin had been darkened slightly with brown and purple bruises.

"Did you treat my injuries?" He asked.

The woman chuckled. "Goodness, no. I've kept vigil, mind you, but I'm much more accustomed to nursing colds and fevers. The only injury I've ever treated is when I've cut my arm. A doctor has come to see you and he set your arm and applied proper medications to your bruises and scrapes."

He shrugged, but was able to make sure he didn't move too much. "Still, you looked over me. I owe you my thanks."

Her eyes narrowed and her cheeks became crimson in color. "Thank you, sir." She lifted her eyes and met his face. "If you don't mind my asking, could you tell me your name?"

"It's Scroop. I'm an orphan since birth, so no cause for a last name."

"You've my sympathies, Mr. Scroop."

"Now, may I ask your name?"

"It's Ophelia. Ophelia Holland."