He sat in a chair at the foot of her bed, watching her sleep. She was young, as young as his niece had been the last time he saw her. Her skin was pale, with almost no coloring. A few primitive tribal tattoos marked her arms and face. Her hair was almost completely shaved off, save for a single short braided scalp lock of black hair.
Her clothes had been filthy, as one might expect from weeks locked away in the bowels of an Imperial ship with only the barest of attention. A female orderly, clucking in a motherly fashion, had removed them earlier and had dressed her in a simple hospital gown for the time being. Her old clothes had been a simple, rough fabric composed of plant fibers. It was crude, but it also appeared to be very resilient, so it had been sent to the laundry to be cleaned.
She'd had other effects as well. Elsewhere in the detention block, the Marines had found a pair of bone-handled knives chipped from volcanic glass. They were both primitive and cunningly ingenious things, composed of the rawest materials yet wickedly sharp. The Imperials had found no large fauna on Dudka-IV, and Ardek didn't even want to think about where the bone came from.
When she had been brought into the infirmary, she had been wearing an amulet. It was a surprisingly intricate thing. It was a single, solid piece of smoky volcanic glass carved into a maze-like pattern. It was quite unlike anything he'd seen before. The pattern was knot like, but angular, and fascinating to look at. Had the colony survived, there might have been much demand for similar items from art collectors. Lost civilizations and nouveau primitivism were very much in style at the moment.
The knives were stored in his cabin. There was no need for those just yet. Ardek turned the amulet over and over in his hands, examining it and admiring its workmanship. It was an interesting focus for concentration. Finally, he waved over an orderly. There was no point in wasting any more time. Keeping her sedated was only a practical solution for so long. It was for him time to wake her up, and introduce himself.
The "orderly" was a 3-PO series protocol droid pressed into service as an attendant. He'd chosen it specifically for two reasons: First, it was humanoid in shape, and therefore probably less threatening. Second, it was a capable translator, something which the logs from the Gauntlet suggested he would need.
The droid waddled stiffly over to the bed in the way that all 3-PO series seemed to. In its hand it held the antidote to the medication that was being used to keep Nisa asleep. It leaned over, and pressed the side of the hypospray to her neck. Ardek heard the hypo make a faint hiss as the medication was administered.
The effect was gradual. The ranking doctor on the ship had suggested a watered-down dose of the antidote, so as not to simply jar her awake. A mild stimulant had been mixed in to get her conscious quickly, but without making her ill.
Nisa opened her eyes to see the chrome-plated face of the droid standing over her. With a strained cross between a groan and a cry she threw out a hand, as though to push the automaton away from her. Her still medication-addled mind hadn't been able to concentrate enough to actually make contact, but suddenly the droid tipped back a bit, overbalancing it. The 3-PO droid, of a series not noted for their dexterity, toppled over into a clattering heap with a startled "Oh, my!'
It wasn't the reaction he'd wanted to start with, and Ardek cursed himself for not using a human orderly. The droid wasn't threatening to him. Unfortunately to someone from a primitive world with no technology, it was a man of metal standing over them, and a potential threat.
Ardek rose out of his chair and walked over to the foot of the bed. The droid began to struggle to its feet. Nisa sat up abruptly, looking to escape, and then collapsed back into the bed, still weak.
As she caught sight of Ardek, whose face was still contorted into a grimace of self-annoyance, she cried out again, and flung out a hand towards him. Ardek grunted as he felt an invisible impact smack against his chest. It wasn't strong enough to hurt, but it still knocked him back a step before he was able to continue onwards. It caught him off guard of a moment, and his eyes widened as he realized he'd just been attacked through use of the force.
Wonderful, he thought to himself. She thinks I'm attacking her.
He held his hands up towards her, hoping to let her see that he wasn't trying to harm her. The amulet hung from his left hand, swinging to and fro, and glinting in the artificial light of the overhead lamps. It seemed to catch her eye, and she held out a hand towards it, obviously wanting it.
Ardek approached slowly, dropping his right hand to his side and holding the amulet out towards her with his left. When he got close enough, her small hand shot out and grabbed on to it, yanking it away from him. He let it go. Nisa clutched the amulet to her chest with both hands, and lay back down on the bed, saying something unintelligible.
"What did she say?" he asked the droid, who had finally managed to regain its feet.
"I'm not sure," it said. "You must understand that this is a highly regionalized dialect of Old Republic basic and that such changes are..."
"What," Ardek repeated, cutting it off mid sentence, "do you THINK she said?"
"I think she said 'my', and then a word which seems to be either "symbol of royalty" or "symbol of godhood," replied the droid. "Possibly both."
"Great," Ardek said to himself, "and my sister thinks HER daughter has an ego problem."