EPISODE I - TWENTY-ONE: Above and Below
Paloame awoke in the Brudall medical center with a flexpoly bacta cast around her arm. The pain had diminished significantly, but it had been replaced by an odd, tingling sensation that caused her to feel like her arm wasn't altogether attached to her shoulder. It wasn't unpleasant, but it simply felt foreign. Sitting in the nearby corner was Jai. He'd grabbed a takeaway box of fral and ootoowergs that he could consume while keeping vigil over Pal. Their comrades remained in the café, discussing the ins and outs of their newly pilfered First Order ships.
Pal was groggy but was champing at the bit to get back to Aporoth. She wanted to rub her arm, but with the engorged flexpoly chambers standing between her arm and her free hand, she acknowledged the act would be futile. She would just have to wait for the sensation to diminish on its own.
"Welcome back, sleepyhead," Jai called out from his corner.
Pal blinked. "I'm glad you guys waited for me to wake up before you headed out to play."
Pal smiled back. "Yeah, it's helping a little. I should be fine to climb into..." She thought for a moment and wondered what it was that she'd be flying. They got here in stolen fighters and four fighters wouldn't really be much of a match against the numbers the First Order might unleash from their sentry ships. "...so, what exactly is the plan and how long was I out?"
"I dunno and just a few hours. We'll have to catch up with Browhar and the others to see what brilliant strategy they've devised. I have no doubts that we'll be just as prepared as we always are!"
"That certainly doesn't put a lot of confidence in me. Maybe we should find them and get up to speed."
Jai flagged down one of the medical droids and got up from his chair. "Listen," he began as he looked into the droid's flashing photoreceptors. "We need to get out of here. I have to find out how she's doing and how quickly that arm's going to be functioning."
The droid adjusted its head to mimic a pose suggesting curiosity. "She should be healed in a few hours. I don't suggest any strenuous activity as the skeletal weave is still rather fresh."
Paloame got out of bed and headed for a divider curtain and began to change out of her hospital gown and back into the civilian clothing that she was wearing on Aporoth. She was glad that the sleeves on her tunic were loose and accommodated the cast around her arm. She mused to herself, at least something went right today.
"Okay, okay," Jai pushed back. "Will she at least be able to pilot a starfighter? We--uh... we're New Republic pilots and we're trying to get back home to the Hosnian System."
"Will she have a droid?" queried the medical droid.
"A droid? Yeah, yeah... she'll have a droid. What's that got to do with it?"
"If she has a droid who will be able to help her pilot her craft, it should be able to help her greatly."
"She's got a droid. We're good," Jai asserted. He glanced over to the blind the moment Pal stepped out from behind it. He smiled again. He had a good feeling about this.
* * * * * * * * * * * *
Back on Aporoth, Balagon grabbed a couple hours of sleep at the insistence of the other three. He curled up in the opposite corner of the little room and covered his eyes with his officer's cap, but managed to catch bits and pieces of conversations going on during his nap. The Ansons were up and explaining to Adria some of their assignments in the works and about the history of the collector and the buildings that surrounded it. They knew a good number of workers in their sector and might be able to call on them if help was needed. Most of them, at least the ones above the age of forty standard years, had very little love for the First Order or their presence on the planet.
The facility began construction three years earlier and was quickly built by worker droids, supply drones and contracted workers who worked alongside other laborers who were brought in from off-world. The collection unit was switched on only eight months ago, but the local workforce was sent into the facility five months earlier for training and the powering up of the various processing sectors. According to Etler, it seemed like some of the areas were hastily cobbled together in anticipation of Benemer Strim's arrival. Irie agreed and indicated there were likely some huge flaws that they might be able to exploit. Again, Almeida's thoughts returned to her parents and the similar conversations they had. She was glad the Ansons were along for the mission because it all seemed familiar and safe.
Dex unfolded himself and stretched. It was time to go. They were all pretty damned lucky that no one attempted to enter the maintenance closet during their time in it. Their luck was probably about to run out. He had that feeling again.
"I see you've already helped yourself to the tech fatigues from the locker," observed Dex.
Adria walked over and extended a hand to help him up. "We've also repacked our gear in more tech appropriate packs, so we're ready to go whenever you are."
"We could use a weapons locker, but we'll have to allow one present itself to us. Or we'll just need to grab some ammo cartridges off of anyone we hit," he said, examining his Glie-43 Optum's charge indicator.
"I doubt we'll find one that will fit that thing, but I'm pretty sure we can grab you one of those nifty white rifles Irie and Etler got."
"Yeah, you're probably right. I call dibs on the next one. How's your charge, Adria?" he asked.
She picked up her pack and lifted it up to him. "I've got one in case this one runs out."
"That's good. It appears your blaster rifle's got a bit more accuracy and punch than those. We'll need that." Balagon knew it was a bad idea, but he loved his sling pack, so he fastened it across his chest and headed for the door. "Everyone ready?"
With a round of nods, he slid the door open ever so slightly to make sure the coast was clear. It was. The foursome exited the closet and ditched their discarded garments and packs down the nearest trash chute before finding their way up to the next level.
