Head trauma has a funny way of messing with your sense of time. I've been knocked out twice before this, once during a little league game when I was young and again a few years ago while I was celebrating my twenty-seventh birthday. Just three beers was enough to help a simple slip turn into a tumble down the stairs.

Being unconscious is like a deep sleep, one that you sometimes snap out of immediately, coming to after a few seconds. Sometimes, though, it likes to hang around. Your consciousness starts getting slippery, and it becomes really hard to stay awake for very long. Usually, getting knocked out and staying out is a really bad sign.

I slowly woke up with a slamming headache terrible enough that I could feel my stomach roiling from it. Thankfully I managed to hold on to my last meal because I wasn't nearly lucid enough to run to the nearest vomit-safe receptacle.

I slowly pieced together what was going on, struggling through what was probably a pretty severe concussion that I was probably fortunate to be waking up from. I remembered being shot, and the sensation of being lifted, carried around, and laid back down. I remember shouting, and the whine of blaster fire as well. I struggled to put everything together, but every thought was difficult to grasp, like trying to grab a melting ice cube with already numb fingers.

When my brain refused to cooperate, I decided to try and slowly sit up and open my eyes, gasping and collapsing backward when my chest and stomach muscles immediately failed, a deep, dull, aching pain radiating into my body. It was the deepest pain I had ever felt, grinding down on me. I could feel my brain trying to protect itself by swallowing me back into unconsciousness when something grabbed my hand, squeezing it.

"Deacon——self——need——yourself!"

The voice was washed out by the pain that wracked my body, but the grip on my hand gave me something to focus on. I gripped it back and tried to focus, my eyes seeing nothing but darkness, despite the fact that I could feel that they were open.

"Deacon! Heal——self!" The familiar voice said again. "YOU NEED——HEAL YOURSELF!"

Part of my brain reacted to the shouting without any extra input. Somehow, even with the pain and slippery thoughts, the familiar matrix of the novice-level healing spell formed in my palm. A cool, gentle sensation radiated downward from my hand, sinking into my body. I used all of my mana to hold the spell for as long as possible. The spell failed when I was out of magicka, but I could already feel it slowly refilling.

When it was full again, I raised my hands slightly, and whoever was gripping my right hand let it go. I struggled to dual cast the healing spell, failing twice before getting it right, creating a much more intense flow of healing energy. I did my best to focus it into my head, the slamming headache receding slightly, even as I used up my magicka much more quickly.

I repeated the process a few more times before finally opening my eyes to see the cargo bay roof of the ship we had just stolen. My head was feeling considerably better, though I could still feel the pain in my stomach as my muscles occasionally twitched, turning a dull, deep ache in a split second of shooting sharp pain.

I turned to see Miru, who was kneeling down next to me, with a watery smile on her face, tears dripping down her face.

"Hey, what I miss?" I asked, my voice scratchy and rough.

The pink-skinned Twi'lek almost jumped at me to give me a hug, but luckily Tatnia, who was standing just behind her, caught her in time.

"Woah there, kiddo, not quite fixed yet," I explained. "I was focusing on my head…"

I could see Tatnia wince when I mentioned my head injury while Miru kneeled back down. I realized that I was lying down on one of our cots, which they must have set up in the cargo hold. From both of their expressions, my injuries must have been pretty bad.

"You hit your head pretty hard," Tatnia explained, picking up on my own expression. "None of us are doctors, and we really couldn't stick around. There were some medical supplies and we did what we could but…"

"It's alright, I get it," I assured her, starting another dual healing spell, this time focused on my stomach. "How did my stomach look?"

"It could have been worse," She said. "You have some pretty bad burns around your stomach and a bit higher up, but we were pretty sure nothing important got cooked. The armor that Nal got us saved your life."

"Should have been wearing a helmet," I said, shaking my head. "I had him buy them for a reason."

"Thank you," Miru said suddenly, gripping my hand again. "You… I just froze and...."

"Hey, don't worry about it," I said with a supportive smile, giving her hand a squeeze. "I'm the boss, right? I gotta take care of our mechanic."

This time Tatnia didn't stop her in time, the younger girl wrapping me up in a tight hug. I did my best to grin and bear it for her sake.

It took about thirty minutes of on-and-off healing before I could finally sit up on the edge of the cot. I switched to a one-handed healing spell as I looked around the cargo bay. It was very cramped, the small storage area was filled with our own supplies, as well as the supplies that were already in the cargo bay when we took the ship. I could just make out the MRV-3 speeder, against the opposite wall, the one with the thick cargo bay door. Tatnia was sitting on a crate a few feet away while Miru went back to what she was doing, which looked like taking inventory.

"So, what did I miss?"

"Not much," She admitted with a shrug. "When you were out, we brought you inside, and Nal did some basic first aid. The rest of us took everything from the A5 and moved it in here. We just managed to leave before more guards showed up, but they didn't have anything that could punch through the shields."

"Where are we going?" I asked, feeling the strangely familiar hum of hyperspace through my feet.

"Well… We weren't sure if you would wake up on your own, and even if you did, we didn't know what state you would be in," She explained. "Nevue said that his people might be able to help, so we plotted a course to the last place he knew they were."

"His people?"

"He is with the Rebels," She explained, "They-"

"Fuuuuuuuuuuck," I groaned, hanging my head for a second before gesturing to Tatnia. "Sorry, continue."

"He says he isn't sure if anyone will be at his old meeting places. Apparently, they've been pretty busy the last few months," She explained, and I snorted at her understatement. "But he knows where he can get in contact with people, find out where they are, and if they are willing to help.."

I frowned, having a pretty good idea where some of his friends were, at least. After the battle of Yavin and the destruction of the first Death Star, the Empire blockaded the entire system, preventing large transports from leaving the solar system, never mind Yavin 4. Most of the rebel fleet was already around the galaxy, and there were several small rebel bases already set up, waiting for the rest of the alliance to escape Yavin 4. At least, that's what happened as far as I knew. This whole time period was a little murky even before the split between the Legend canon and the Disney canon.

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"Well… since this is just a temporary ship, then there really isn't any harm being around the Rebels," I eventually said, slowly standing up. "So we can drop him off and negotiate a deal for this ship, then head out to buy our own."

"Don't like this one?" She asked with a smirk.

"It's a bit small. Have you guys been sleeping in shifts or…?"

"No, there are two beds, a cot, and the couch," She responded with a shrug. "It's not exactly the most comfortable place to sleep so we switch back and forth between that."

Once I was sure my legs weren't going to give out, I started making my way through the cargo bay, peeking into the crates and containers. My eyes went wide when I realized the second container I opened was all blaster pistols.

"Did we steal an arms dealer's ship?" I asked as I looked in another crate to find a heavy repeating blaster cannon like they had set up in the hangar. "Holy hell!"

"It seemed to be a delivery of weapons, but it's also got some general supplies," Tatnia responded. "Nevue already said that if we sell it at a discount to wherever Rebel group we find, he will consider that his payment."

"There's gotta be another twenty thousand credits here."

"More like twelve or thirteen. It's not all blasters and weapons," Tatnia said. "We should probably end up keeping some of the food that's in those crates over there."

I continued to explore the smaller cargo bay before arriving at the ladder. I had been healing myself pretty much non-stop since I woke up, so I confidently put a hand on the ladder before stopping and turning to Tatnia.

"How long was I out anyway?"

"Was wondering when you would ask that. Just over a day and a half," She answered. "We've already been to one empty base, Nevue was hoping that his team would be there, but it was cleaned out to the bedrock."

"Damn…" I trailed off, eventually shaking my thoughts clear. "Has anyone gone through our money? Just to count it and make sure there aren't any more hidden surprises?"

"We did, and there weren't," She explained, laughing when he gestured emphatically for her to spit it out. "We have just over sixty-one thousand credits. Not including the twenty thousand we got from selling the first ship."

"Holy… we need to be careful," I said, my heart thumping in my chest like a kick drum. "That's… a lot of money. Someone is going to come looking for that."

"We are in the wind for now," She responded with a shrug. "Eventually, we will be able to handle it anyway."

I nodded and started to climb the ladder to the main deck, climbing out into the lounge area. There were no pools of blood or anything, though there were a few suspiciously clean spots where there had been pools of blood. I made my way forward, stepping back down into the descended cockpit area. Nal turned to greet me, smiling and nodding.

"Good to see you awake," He said, gesturing to one of two empty seats, which I happily sat in. "How do you feel?"

"Better. I've been down there healing myself for a while."

"We heard. Miru was shouting pretty loudly when you started waking up," Nevue said, focused on the ship controls in front of him.

The cockpit was a wash of panels filled with buttons, switches, and levers. There were a pair of flight controls in front of Nal and Nevue, though both of them were tilted forward and out of the way, probably disengaged because we were in hyperspace. I mentally made a note to find an excuse to ask why some ships had sleek, futuristic controls and some had the Cold War-era look. Past the control panels and joysticks, through the viewport, were the brilliant streaking lights of hyperspace. It was a riveting view, almost hypnotic to watch, though part of my implanted knowledge said that staring at it was a bad idea. I wasn't sure if that was superstition or not, so I tore my eyes away and focused back on Nal and Nevue.

"Why are you guys stuck here?" I asked, leaning back in my chair and casting another heal on myself, trying to fix the last bit of soreness. "Isn't it kind of set it and forget it for hyperspace?"

"For an unfamiliar ship?" Nevue asked with a scoff. "There are easier ways to get yourself killed."

"Never know what quality ship might be," Nal said, explaining it a bit better. "Engine could fail suddenly, or a stabilizer might come loose. Fine if caught, lethal if it's not. Only trust a ship you know, maintained by crew you trust. Besides, you can enjoy entertainment."

He lifted up a datapad I had missed, wiggling it a bit before putting it down. We were quiet for a few minutes, the two pilots switching between looking at their datapads and the consoles around them. I could see that Nevue was playing Sabbac, while Nal was reading what looked like a technical manual.

"So… A Rebel huh?" I asked finally, when my magic was full. "Guess that explains your experience."

"Yeah, that's not going to be a problem, is it?" The Zabrak responded after a long moment, turning his chair to look at me.

"No. I mean, I rather you weren't, but not because I have a problem with the rebellion," I assured him. "Just makes things more complicated. I do appreciate you trying to get me to a doctor."

"I would still be rotting on that karking cesspit of a planet if you hadn't come along," He responded with a shrug. "I'm willing to extend a bit of trust. I should warn you, it's going to be a little tense when we eventually get somewhere with people."

"They won't just blow us out of the sky, will they?"

"No, definitely not. They don't have the resources to just blow ships out of the sky just cause it's suspicious," Nevue assured me. "I'm just going to have to prove I am who I am first. I can't imagine everything is going smoothly after what happened to Alderaan. Not to mention blowing up the Death Star."

"That actually happened?" Miru asked, stepping into the cockpit, catching me off guard for a second. "Weren't you… already caught by that point?"

"Yes, but I had access to the Holonet, and I know which news brokers can be trusted," He explained, staring out past the cockpit window. "I honestly wish it wasn't true, two billion people lived on Alderaan."

The cockpit was quiet for a lot longer this time. I looked over at Miru, who seemed unsure if the news of the Empire destroying a planet with a moon-sized space station, then that station getting blown up by a rag-tag group of freedom fighters, could really be true. Eventually, I couldn't take the silence.

"What do you do for the Alliance?"

"... my team and I were asset acquisition," He explained after a long moment. "We make deals for weapons, food, supplies. We also raid Imperial depots and supply deliveries. Nothing much bigger than this ship, and that was very rare. Usually, we just stuck to stealing food and supplies."

"Explains why you were so ready to rob the slavers," Miru said, the rebel nodding without looking away from his sabbac game.

"Let's just hope at least some of my team survived," He responded. "They should have records of who I am, but it will be a lot easier if they have someone on hand to back me up."