Star Wars: Scars

Part 1 - 6

It took several minutes before 90 became aware of the fact that he wasn't dead and someone was speaking to him in softer tones. He tried weakly to gasp for air but his lungs were burning and it felt as if he could get nothing into them. There was a heavy pressure inside his chest and he didn't know what it was until reflex took over and he started coughing up the water in his lungs. It hurt, every spasm of his chest feeling like something was ripping through his lungs, but he could take in air again. He started gasping, gulping down large breaths of cold dry air.

It took a few more minutes for the oxygen to reach his head and clear his mind. When it did, though, he became more aware of the voice talking to him and weakly cracked open his eyes to see who it was.

"Hey, there, lad," Haze's voice came through as 90 slowly made out the older man's form. 90 felt a gentle hand brush over his forehead and slick back some of his wet hair from his face. He coughed roughly and tried to answer, but his response came as a strangled croak and he started coughing again.

This time Haze sat him up a little and 90 relaxed as the older man's gentle hand rubbed over his back. The chilly air of the room was starting to get to him, though, and 90 feebly attempted to curl up, shivering.

"You cold?" Haze asked, shifting to sit beside 90 on the bed and pulling 90 up close to him as he kept rubbing over his back.

Nodding, 90 relaxed back against Haze, blinking his eyes as a wave of exhaustion washed over his sore body. He tried to pick up his arm to rub at his eyes but the dull throb that he'd failed to notice before turned into a spike of pain as he moved his arm and he yelped, dropping his arm back again.

Haze started some at that and bent over a little, still holding 90 close as he gingerly picked up 90's arm. 90 almost screamed when Haze touched his arm, let alone tried to move it and desperately tried to jerk it away, but only elicited more pain from the injury. 90 bit down hard on his lip to keep from crying but he felt Haze release his arm as well and carefully shift him back to the bed on his own.

"90, what happened to your arm?" Haze asked gently as he got up and 90 watched him gather a blanket and scanner into his arms. 90 then looked down at his arm, seeing how purple and swollen it was around his elbow.

"I-I..." he stuttered, his voice still hoarse, "I-I d-dunno...49 and 67 t-twisted it t-too far..."

Haze sat back beside him, facing him with a serious look. Not a patronizing look, like he was talking to a three-year-old, simply a look of concern and worry.

"Can you move your arm?" Haze asked.

90 looked at his arm but he swallowed hard, not wanting to try so he simply shook his head. Haze nodded and keyed on the scanner, moving it slowly as the blue scanner played over 90's arm, identifying the problem. After a moment it bleeped softly and 90 watched Haze looked over the reading with concern.

"Okay, lad, you've got a pretty serious broken arm. I can set it here, but you'll need to go back to the medbay on your side and get it in a cast," he said, setting the scanner aside and now leaning forward to wrap a blanket around 90's shoulder to keep him warm. He shifted to get up again and 90 gripped the blanket around himself tighter.

"W-What about fighting? I-I can't fight with one arm," 90 suddenly stammered, looking up at Haze in fear. If he couldn't fight, there was no way he was going to pass the next test, let alone survive more than five minutes in it. He couldn't lose now, not when he was just starting to prove himself.

Haze came back over with a few items and looked at him with a bit of a frown, but there wasn't any hopelessness in his eyes. "Well, it'll be hard...why do you ask? Can't you get a few days off to recover?"