Chapter 10

Consciousness returned to Tilyer in a haze that gradually lifted like a predawn mist that fades with the rising sun. In fact, a soft golden radiance streamed in from a window across from the hospital bed in which he lay. He was clothed in some sort of hospital gown, yet his bed and sheets were not the same shade of antiseptic white common to clinics and hospitals around the galaxy. The rest of the room too seemed to bask in a robust glow of earthy colors. There was an overstuffed chair in the corner, a pair of real wooden chairs, and even a few holograms hanging on the yellowish walls. There was a strange feeling to the room, as if it was old, yes, but there was something else about it. Tilyer couldn't put his finger on it, but this place certainly didn't feel like any hospital he had ever been in. It just seemed too inviting.

He stirred slightly, testing his ribs that had hurt so painfully the last time. Better, but still tender,he finally decided. His left knee, on the other hand, was encased in some weird contraption with a variety of pins and wires coming in and out of it.

Wherever this place was, it wasn't any Imperial hospital. It couldn't be. His mind briefly struggled to recall what had happened before it all came back in a tide of remembrance: the dogfight with the X-wings, then tearing through Belsavis' atmosphere with the ground rushing up to greet him. He vaguely remembered engaging the repulserlifts on the dying craft to slow its descent, and then nothing. If this wasn't an imperial facility, then what happened to the Enforcer? If it survived, they would have searched for him. They had to know he was alive . . . unless they were all dead.

Tilyer sighed and closed his eyes. What if he was the last one left alive? What if the captain, Linia, Lieutenant Del'Goren, Gabel, what if they were all dead? What was he supposed to do? He had to get word to fleet command, that's what he had to do. They had to know that rebels were operating out of Belsavis, that they had destroyed the Enforcer. He had to get out of here, wherever this was. It could have been a rebel hospital, and maybe they just didn't expect him to wake up so soon. He had to get escape.

He groaned and tried to sit up, but the position of his body coupled with his still-tender ribs, made the actual act considerably harder than the proposition. Finally he managed to lever himself into a sitting position. He was about to examine the device on his knee when the room's only door slid open. Framed in the doorway stood a square-shouldered humanoid dressed in a white lab coat. Thin wispy orange hair wreathed its head and chin, but its gray face was dominated by two pairs of bulbous black eyes and a pair of inwardly pointing tusks that descended over its mouth: an Aqualish.

Its fleshy jowls twitched upward in the Aqualish version of a smile. "Glad to see you've finally awakened, Flight Officer Raan," it said in a gravelly, yet familiar, voice

Tilyer grimaced, fighting down his revulsion at the repulsive alien. He stared at the creature for a long moment before speaking. "I was awake before—And how do you know my name? Just who the hell are you?"

"Well," the Aqualish said, moving out of the doorway, "Your name was on your flight suit—or what was left of it, and my name is Dr. Vorst. As for your first statement, your sedative began to wear off before the treatment was over."

"Treatment? You mean this damn thing on my leg?" he said, gesturing to the device encasing his knee.

"Yes, you were rather banged up after your crash-landing. In all honesty, the treatment is not complete yet, but close enough. I apologize, but we don't have a full bacta tank here, otherwise it would have taken less time. Anyway, you managed to dislocate your shoulder, break two ribs, and tear some ligaments and cartilage in your knee. I set your shoulder, and some bacta injections worked pretty well on your ribs, but that knee is proving quite difficult." He punctuated his remark by tapping the device with a single taloned finger.

Tilyer lay back on his bed, anxious to further the difference between him and the approaching alien.

"You see, bacta may be able to mend bone and flesh quite easily, but when the treatment involves ligaments and tendons, as in your case, the cure is somewhat more tedious. But never fear, within a day or so you will be as good as new." The Aqualish flashed him that unsettling grin once more.

When Tilyer didn't respond immediately, the alien pressed on. "You're quite lucky Tana discovered you when she did. I doubt you would have survived more than a few hours out on the ice plains."

"Tana?

"Oh yes, I'm forgetting my manners. You must feel quite disoriented, given the circumstances."

Tilyer seemed disinclined to respond, so Dr. Vorst pressed on in that annoyingly pleasant voice.

"Tana was the young lady who found you after your ship crashed out on the plains. Your craft was quite a mess, but obviously she managed to drag you back here for medical treatment—I'm sure it's not what you're used to back on your ship, but it is still effective nonetheless."

"Where is 'here,' anyway?" Tilyer asked.

"Well, we tend to call it home, but its official designation is Green X."

"Who else lives here? More ali—err, people like you?"

"If by 'people like me' you mean fellow entrepreneurial colonists, then yes." He smiled, "There are some people you should meet, by the way."

He turned toward the door, "Tana, Oltan, you can come in now."

The two young humans, both male and female, that ventured through the doorway looked somehow related with the same blonde hair, same brown eyes, and same slight build. They even dressed alike with their rugged overalls and tool belts. The man bore an intimidating scowl on his otherwise handsome face as he leaned against the wall, but the girl offered a slight smile as she approached Dr. Vorst's side.

"Allow me to introduce Tana and Oltan Yin'Baara," said the Aqualish doctor.

"Nice to meet you," said Tana with a crooked grin.

Oltan merely nodded stoically.

"Oltan and Tana are the children of the Yin'Baara family, one of the several families that own this plantation. As you know, Tana was the one who found your ship, and Oltan here has been appointed to look after you while you're here."

Oltan gave Tilyer a cold nod, one that made it perfectly clear how he felt about that duty and the man it encompassed.

"So I'm a prisoner here," Tilyer said, more of a statement than a question.

The Aqualish chortled a laugh and made a dismissive gesture, "Good heavens no, it's nothing like that. This may be a civilized colony, but the silk jungles are still quite wild. We can't have you wandering off into who knows what without proper supervision, now can we?"

Tilyer fidgeted uncomfortably. He wasn't very convinced by the explanation, but he wasn't in a position to press the subject. "So how long have I been here? And what about the Enforcer? Why haven't you contacted them?"

The Aqualish smiled, "You've been here approximately three days, and as for your ship, which is what I assume the Enforcer is, we have been unable to contact it since your arrival."

Tilyer was crestfallen, all his fears confirmed. "So then that's it then. They're all gone . . . "

"On the contrary."

"Huh?"

"It's still up there as far as we can tell, but all communications are down," Tana quickly supplied.

"Yes," Dr. Vorst explained, "The ships you were so embattled with evidently didn't want word getting out about their activities."

Tilyer made a quizzical expression.

"They blasted the planetary communication satellite," Oltan growled. "We can't even get messages to the other domes thanks to your little skirmish."

Vorst nodded sagely, "And evidently your ship sustained some battle damage as well, since it hasn't moved from its orbit since your arrival. They must be trying to effect some kind of repairs."

"So what now? I just wait?"

The doctor shrugged, "So far that seems to be the only course of action left."

"Sorry to interrupt," Tana interjected, "but I really need to get back to work." She flashed Tilyer a smile, "We don't get many visitors out here, so I just wanted to say hi. I'll be back later when I don't have as much stuff to do." She gave him another grin, then slipped through the door and disappeared down the hall.

Dr. Vorst smiled apologetically, or whatever the equivalent was for his species. "I too have other duties I must attend to. If you need anything of a medical nature, there is a commlink mounted on the wall next to your bed you can use to get in contact with me, but otherwise Oltan should be able to see to all of your needs. I will be back to check on you in a few hours. Until then, rest up." He again patted Tilyer's leg and headed out the door.

Oltan sat down in one of the chairs and fixed Tilyer with a wordless stare, as if daring him to say or do anything.

Tilyer just lay back in his bed and tried to make himself as comfortable as possible, but the growing sense of unease fermenting in the back of his mind made that simple comfort an elusive prospect.


He did it. The conniving, back-stabbing bastard actually did it. There was no doubt in Lieutenant Del'Goren's mind, but there was also no blasted way to prove it. There was no other way to explain it, but there was no irrefutable evidence to link Venka to Captain Ygra's death.

Del'Goren pounded his fist on the console in frustration. He almost didn't want to believe it, but the evidence was sitting right in front of him. In the empty security station, he had accessed the sick bay surveillance recordings to put his suspicions to rest, but what he found only confirmed what he feared. Actually it wasn't what he found; it was the lack of what he found. Two whole minutes of footage from the surveillance recordings of the ship's infirmary were missing from the data logs. Even the backups had been cleanly wiped from the system. It could have easily been passed off as a simple glitch, and no one would have noticed it without knowing exactly what to look for, but there it was. It wouldn't prove anything in a military court, but it proved enough to Del'Goren.

He hit the console again, even though his hand was still smarting from the last time. He had to do something, but he couldn't prove anything other than 2 minutes of footage were missing from the logs and Venka had "coincidentally" been in sickbay with the Captain at the time.

He bent forward, massaging his temples as he tried to figure out what to do. The first thing that came to mind was just putting a blaster to the bastard's head and blowing him away; give him the same chance he gave the captain. But no, that would get him nowhere. He would feel a lot better, but he would only pay the price Venka should have.

No, he would just have to wait. It made his skin crawl to think that Venka would get away with such a heinous crime, that he would get the best of Del'Goren and every decent Imperial officer, but there was no way around it. He would have to bide his time and wait.