Monitors bore silent witness to the patient lying in the bed. They had been observed around the clock by medical droids and a pair of doctors. A tall cloaked figure loomed over the proceedings with an aura of menace. Locks of snow white hair and predatory eyes were visible from under the hood.

It had been a tense week of watching and waiting. The cloaked figure had brought the patient in under strange circumstances. The male Twi'lek had presented with several wounds, the chief of which was a blaster wound in the upper right abdomen. The lung was collapsed and filled with fluid. Life Signs were weak but still detectable.

This part confused the doctor on staff at the time. Examining the extent of the injuries told her that the patient should have been dead. Yet, he clung to life as if something was holding him there. An indefinable and sickly green mist seemed to cling to the wounds. The intangible stuff swirled around the hands and instruments of the examining doctor.

Doctor Zurana said, “What happened?”

“He was shot,” was the only answer given.

She rolled her eyes and said, “Yes, I got that. Why did…” She looked at the figure’s stern face with mismatched eyes. Those eyes were transfixed on the wounds. “Alright fine, what is this green stuff?” She tried waving it away only to have it swirl back around where it was.

The figure snarled, "Look. I'm holding him together but I'm out of supplies. Either get to work or get out of my way so I can do it!" The doctor opened her mouth again and was cut off. The cloaked woman interrupted with a detailed listing of injuries and treatments so far.

Zurana instantly recognized the medical expertise and followed along both mentally and visually. The scanners showed massive damage, but the skin was whole. “I don’t understand what is going on here. The treatments you described couldn’t possibly account for what I’m seeing and scanning here.”

The cloaked woman repeated, “I am holding him together so he doesn’t die.” Again she said, “Get to work and fix him or get out of my way so I can.” The brown and yellow eyes turned from their point of fixation to bore into the doctor. The doctor flinched away from the malice in them. Then she noticed the skin on the Twi’lek. It began to deteriorate and split over the wound. The cloaked woman turned her attention back to the patient’s chest and the skin closed up again.

“How… How is that happening?”

The cloaked woman’s hand shot out to grab Zurana by the front of her scrubs and jerked her near. She snarled, “I am doing it. Ask one more question not related to treating him and I will kill you. Do you understand?" She held up a hand and suddenly sparks danced between her fingertips. The doctor just about jumped out of her skin at the revelation. A Sith Lord. Here in the middle of nowhere. It wasn’t entirely unheard of. Just very rare.

The rest of the treatment process was a similar experience. As he stabilized, she disappeared. She reappeared several hours later looking less haggard. Finally the Twi’lek was stable enough to be moved and floated in a tank of Kolto. The Sith surprised Zurana by presenting two crates of Bacta. They drained half of the Kolto and replaced it with the Bacta. She had heard of mixing the two for added effectiveness, but had never been able to try. Now was a golden opportunity to observe the outcome.

The facemask was firmly affixed to the patient’s face before dunking him and his life signs were monitored closely. The Sith woman monitored them so closely that she got in the way of normal staff. No one objected after a display of power when a medical droid had angered her. The lightning bolts had been so intense that the torso started melting.

At the beginning of the third day she had disappeared again. The assumption was that she was sleeping somewhere. There was quiet discussion among the staff though no one was brave enough to go looking. That hair trigger temper kept everyone at bay. Roughly thirty six hours later she reappeared.

No longer in shabby clothes and cloak, she was resplendent in a deep red cloak with a black lining. Beneath that could be seen jet black armor. A satchel was hung on one side of the belt and a lightsaber on the other. The predatory eyes were both yellowish now. They resided above chiseled features and framed by wisps of white hair. All of this was shadowed by the hood of her cloak. The menace emanating from her seemed somehow enhanced now.

She immediately went to the tank and examined all readings and charts. The woman noted that the droids were preparing his removal from the tank and nodded in approval. The combination of Bacta and Kolto worked beyond her wildest imagination in healing. His progress was off the charts for this type of treatment. It should have been at least two more days before he was ready for release.

Normally she would have been able to greatly speed up the process using the Force. However, she’d been exhausted by maintaining his injuries until they got to proper medical facilities. If they’d been much longer her strength would have failed and he would have suffocated in his own fluids. It had been all she could do to produce a small spark when she threatened the doctor. Only an iron will kept her from dropping on the floor at that moment.

The apprentice had quietly left the hospital and stumbled her way to a quiet spot. She didn’t remember getting there. She didn’t remember if she laid down or had fallen. She only knew that she woke up in a locked closet with the lights out. She was still tired but she had endured far worse. Movement brought her out of her reverie as the droids removed Qet’al from the tank.

Moments later he was dried off and dressed in hospital garments. Resting in a comfortable bed with warm blankets over him, he was moved to his own room. Normal practice was to have him in the medical bay with the rest of the patients. However, Zurana had decided it best to keep them segregated for the safety of the staff. Sith were notorious for being dangerous and she was no exception. Best not to take chances.

His breathing was the slow and steady of deep slumber. She checked his vitals one more time and then sat in the chair opposite. Knowing it could be a while she meditated on the Force. Her thoughts ranged far and wide as she searched for answers to questions in her mind. Her primary focus was on what her master would decide to do next.

She had reported the results of this latest mission. Neither of them had foreseen anything of the kind and he was troubled by it. This concern overrode his anger at the mission failure. She had survived another crucible with none of her customary tools, thus proving her worth. She had omitted the part of having taken the Twi’lek with her. She did not care to incur his wrath, or even disappointment as either could prove fatal.

It was better to leave him with a knotty problem to deliberate on. His devious mind was no doubt already working on a new and more subtle plan. A change in the sound of breathing caught her attention. She opened her eyes in time to see him stretch and yawn. The scar on his jaw caused the process to look a little odd, with it being less pliable than the rest of the skin.

He rolled over to his side facing away from where she was sitting and settled down to sleeping again. She watched his life signs on the scanners and saw they were consistent. Perhaps a little weak, but that was to be expected so soon after massive injuries. Back to meditation it was. She was aware of him rolling around a bit more as he slept. She knew it would now be soon for him to wake.

His eyes fluttered open briefly then closed. A moment later he was partially awake and becoming aware of his surroundings. The lighting in the room was dim and the sounds were muted. They reminded him of medical equipment. His eyes wandered to take in the room and realized that they were, in fact, medical scanners. Why was he in a ward?

Wandering eyes settled on a dark figure to his right. Dressed all in red and black, the face was shadowed in the gloom. The slight frame said female. The armor said run away. The lack of movement suggested sleep, but her posture spoke of alertness. The word defining her condition escaped him in the haze of waking.

The thought occurred to him that he had not the slightest idea who she was or why she was in his room. Was she a guard? Was he in custody for something? He looked down his own body and saw no restraints. Perhaps he needed to be protected from something? Again he wondered why he was in a hospital. Why did his side ache? Glimpses of activity flashed through his mind but they made no sense.

Sith yellow eyes snapped open while he was reflecting on the images dancing in his head. She watched him try to puzzle through what he was seeing. She reached out with the Force to try and discern his thoughts. Her observation of him went unnoticed for a moment or two before he returned from his reverie.

When he looked at her again and the ferocious eyes arrested his full attention. He had just seen their like in those flashes of memory. It was all awash in haze, but those eyes. Though he remembered them being mismatched. One dark and one bright. His brow furrowed in concentration, trying to find the answers. She watched impassively while he struggled. Finally he spoke, “I know you.”

The darkness under her hood made it hard to see any reaction out of her. She raised an eyebrow at his comment but said nothing. She reminded him of a bird of prey perched on the limb of a tree, staring down at a soon to be victim. He was put off by this, yet he was not afraid. He tried again, “How do I know you? I can’t see your face, but your eyes are in my dreams. Except there was only one that was yellow like that. I don’t understand.”

After what seemed an eternity of silence, she finally moved. Gauntleted hands raised to lower the hood. Her sharp features came into focus and he gasped. Hawk like eyes stood out against almond colored skin. High cheekbones made her face angular and dangerous looking. An aura of strength emanated from her. He studied her and couldn’t quite reconcile the images in his head.

“Didn’t you have dark hair? And skin?” He looked away while he searched his memories and said, “Tadola? T’ro…” He growled in frustration,”It’s right there! Why can’t I grasp it?” She leaned forward a bit and cocked her head to one side. The movement brought him back to the moment and he gasped.

Visions of her leaning over him in erratically flashing lights exploded into his mind’s eye. “I was wrong before.” She tilted her head a little more in curiosity. He continued, “About you being pretty.” Her eyes narrowed slightly at the comment. “I was so wrong. Not merely pretty, you are beautiful!”

She suddenly laughed and a smile spread across her face. She broke her silence saying, “You think so?” At his nod she said, “And what else do you remember, captain?”

It was his turn to chuckle. “I told you that? I never tell anyone that.” He shook his head as his gaze wandered around the room again. “I remember… Shooting. Lots of it. Explosions.” His brow furrowed again as he tried to sort through the jumble of memories. “You tore a door off its hinges I think? But you never touched it?” He looked openly confused by this. “Then there was… An electrical short or something. I saw security forces being electrocuted in a hallway. Seemed like an awful way to go.”

“Or something,” she said. He shot her a confused look which caused her smile to widen. “Is that all you can recall?”

A moment's thought brought forth a nod from him. “Everything is a jumble. The last thing I remember clearly was going to work for the day. After that… It’s all scattered.”

The smile lessened to a smirk while she considered her next question. Her words came slowly, “What would you say if I told you that station is no longer safe for you? If I told you that all your friends there are dead?”

Qet’al looked inward again to reflect upon this information. “I would say that I am not as surprised as I think I should be at this news. It seems right though, considering what I can remember.” He said in a hollow voice, “Everyone is gone?”

She shrugged slightly and said, “It would seem so. They were rounding everyone up and killing them from what I saw.”

His eyes narrowed as his body bristled. “They just… Slaughtered everyone? Why? Who?” His hands began to clench while he hoped she would fill him in.

Observing his reaction she said, "Everyone. Why, I don't know exactly. Survival was all I cared about." Unsure of his intentions, he didn't need to know that she was ultimately responsible right now.

"Fair enough. Do you at least know who it was?”

The slight smirk on her face completely disappeared as her eyes drilled into his. She could sense his growing anger and pain. “You said it was a faction called the Hand of Thyferra.” Incredulity spread across his face as this sank in. “Not the answer you expected?”

The Twi’lek sounded thunderstruck when he answered. “No. It… It was the Hand? Why would they do such a thing? There has always been competition between the three factions for control, but it’s rarely been deadly. Hostile, yes but not deadly. I’ve never heard of something like this here.”

The apprentice spoke again in a slightly softer voice, “What do you intend to do now, captain?”

His clenched fists began to shake in his lap. All the tension left his body as he said, “What can I do? For all my skills, I am just one Twi’lek.”

“What skills are those? You said you were infantry. Delta.”

“Why?”

The smirk returned as she said, “Humor me.”

“Alright, fine. I was a commando in the Republic Special Forces division. I went on countless covert ops as a heavy arms and explosives expert. Hand to hand expert. Proficient in; vibroblades, short and long. Field survival, hacking and various other things. Again, why?”

“What would you do with those skills?”

He let out a frustrated sigh. “What do you want from me?”

“I want you to answer the question.”

“I want to kill them! Is that what you want to hear? I want to kill every last one of those mother kriffers! I want to tear them to little tiny pieces. It would take an army and I… I have nothing. No money to hire an army. Not even a fire team." He sputtered out after that.

"My, my. Such talk from an officer of the Republic." She shook her head dramatically.

"Don't give me that crap. I learned a long time ago that fat cat politician's don't give a Hutt's ass about the little guy. I put my life on the line countless times and for what? A pat on the head? A medal? Does that bring my dead friends back? Does that reattach lost limbs? Did we even get danger pay? Hell no!

"All we get is 'Great job soldier. Now here's your next job.' Meanwhile, my friends get a flag draped box to be discarded like trash. Kriff those bastards!" He didn't realize that he'd been shouting until he heard the echo reverberated back at him.

Talo'ra had watched him closely throughout his tirade. Her terse reply was simply, "I see."

He sipped some water after his outburst. It allowed him to get himself under control as well as soothe a now sore throat. “Look. I’ve answered your questions. All of them and then some. Would you please answer mine? What happened? Why does my side hurt? Who are you? Were you disguised there? Or are you disguised now?”

“As you wish.” The young woman recited the narrative of their adventure in the station and skirted around why she was there in the first place. News of his injury explained the ache and fatigue he felt. He was assured that both will pass in time. She admitted that he had saved her life several times that day. She felt that she needed to return the favor for which he thanked her.

“Wait,” he prompted. “How exactly did you open those doors?” His brain was trying to absorb all the information she was piling on him. It finally caught up to the current point in the story. “And what about the circuit overload? How did we get through all those Hands?”

Amusement showed on her face at the questions. She raised a hand and suddenly it was alive with electricity dancing around it. His eyes grew wide in shock. The sparks stopped but he couldn’t stop watching her hand. The Twi’lek slowly shifted his eyes to hers and then it all came together in his mind. He paled at the thought of what he’d just said moments ago.

“You’re a Jedi. And I…”

Laughter interrupted his train of thought. Talo’Ra started to hold her stomach after a couple minutes. She wiped a tear away as she tried to get herself under control. Between giggles she managed, “Of all the things - been accused of.. Oh! A Je....” Uncontrollable laughter followed. Thoroughly off put by this reaction Qet’al couldn’t help but join in. She took a deep breath and tried to reign it in. “A Jedi. Wow! That’s a new one!”

Infectious mirth kept them both occupied for several moments until he finally said “If not a Jedi, then what? A Sith?” She reached to her side and drew her lightsaber. Activating the blade it erupted to life with a flash and hummed with a guttural thrum. The black core of the blade had a blue aura around it. She held the weapon aloft while they both admired it.

“A Sith indeed. And you,” she angled the blade slightly his way, “want revenge. Do you not?” He hesitated a moment and nodded. “As it happens, there is a plan for that. Do you want in?”