Carth:

            I couldn't believe the luck I had.  Not only did I find an abandoned apartment to hide out in, but the building's janitor was kind enough to unlock the door for me.

            I guess I must have been one hell of a sight, though.  Wearing soiled clothes with a huge knot on my forehead and a bloodied woman in my arms.  The poor guy probably just didn't want us bleeding on his floors.

            As soon as I was through the door I set the girl down on the bed.  She didn't look very good.  The color had drained substantially from her face and she stopped drifting in and out of consciousness.  Her jaw was clenched tightly around words that refused to form past incomprehensible whimpers.

            The apartment was as well equipped as any second rate motel.  Fresh towels, and bed sheets and glasses for water.  In the top drawer of the bureau there was a sewing kit.  The place even came equipped with a workbench. 

            She had a nasty wound on the back of her head that was my first priority.  Blood droplets already browned the stark white pillowcase.  I couldn't find any bacta patches or kolto, so I'd have to tend to the wound the old fashioned way.

            I filled a glass with water and soaked a small towel.  She had rolled on her side, most likely to remove pressure from her injury, and I wasn't arguing.  I pulled a stool over to the side of the bed and sat down to work.

            As soon as I started to clean the gash, her arms shot up.  I had tried to be gentle, but I'm sure it hurt like hell regardless.  She moaned and slapped at me weakly.  Her skin was hot and clammy, feverish.  Batting her hands away, I pulled out the sewing kit.

            With one hand pinning her head down, I began to work.  The noises she started to make made me hate myself, but there wasn't much else I could do.  When I finished, she was exhausted and defeated.  I took another damp towel and placed it on her forehead.

            There wasn't anything that I could do after that.  I didn't want to scout Taris just yet, not if that meant risking coming back to a dead woman.  I could have tried to find a doctor, but at that point, it looked like all she needed was someone to keep her blanketed and make sure that there was always a fresh cloth on her forehead.

            So I sat there and waited.  Between her thrashing and brief lapses into consciousness, I entered her fingerprints into my datapad.  Rian Vega.  A strangely masculine name for such a pretty girl, but that wasn't the oddest thing about her record.  Age 26, a last minute addition to the crew specifically requested by Bastila Shan, but that was all the information available.  If I had looked my name up it would have had my military rank, how many years I had served, any honors I had received, any violations to the law I may have committed and so on.  Why wasn't I able to even access what planet she hailed from?  So, Rian Vega, age 26, I wondered, just who are you?