Robert winced. He remember too well. That wild chase and the desperate last run for the planet, then darkness as his pod plummeted into the atmosphere...blinking once to clear his vision, he chose to keep it short.
"Das Wilde surprise attack. In the middle of zoner controlled space. The implications are...unsettling."
he leaned back on his bed, he really wasn't up to form yet.
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Doc just nodded in understanding and concern.
"We haven't had many Das Wilde reports in our system but the Zoners in other parts of Sirius have had skirmishes with them as well, some of them giving their lives," explained Doc. "I know of a fighter captain on Lanzerate that survived such an attack after being jumped buy two of them in bombers. Neither could destroy the other and they let him go to spread the word of what they intend to do."
He then put a conerning hand on his arm, "Easy, Robert, don't push yourself. You have much resting to do."
After a short pause, he continued, "I took the liberty of notifying Order command of your whereabout and condition. As to whether or not they show I have no clue. But for now, just rest."
Robert frowned. "Whether they show or not is no longer relevant."
He eased back in his bed. "Thank you, Senor, for saving my life. Hopefully I'll be able to repay you one day".
He smiled for a little, then his eyelids dropped and he drifted off to sleep.
Three weeks later....
Robert slowly worked the muscles in his legs as he paced around the room. Holiday had done an amazing job. From the brink of death to nearly as well as ever. He would need a couple of weeks more to be really back up to full strength, but it would do.
For now, he awaited the man who had saved him, for a last talk. He had thought and made up his mind.
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Doc entered the room of D'Souza and watched him walking, "I guess that artificial knee is working perfectly." As he stood with him, he began going over him with his scanner.
"Do me a favor, Senor, and don't drink so hard when you leave here," Doc requested, "not everyone can give you a new liver on demand ya know! I'm just glad that all is well internally."
"For now," he continued, "keep working on your strength. I'll feel better with you able to hold your own before you leave here."
"All's fine, Doctor. And I'm too addicted to just quit drinking, as you probably gathered from my old liver...I'll try, nonetheless."
He walked around a little more, testing his strength.
"I feel as good as likely to be, Doctor. I think it's time to leave."
His expression slowly became grim.
"There's a job to be done. The Nomads are still out there, and I'll have to find a new way to counter them...The Order can no longer hold them back, I saw that personally. I'll find a way, somehow. There's only that to be done."
He grasped Holiday's hand and shook it warmly.
"I thank you, for saving my life. Maybe I'll be able to repay you someday, by ensuring a safer life for you and your family...Until then, I must bid you farewell."
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Doc could only listen as he shook D'Souza's hand and nodded his understanding. Once he finished speaking, Doc himself spoke.
"Some time ago, there was a doctor in the Order. His name was never revealed. He simply went by "The Doctor." He dedicated his life to the study of the Nomads and just....disappeared."
Doc continued, "I know the Order fights them. I can respect that. I, however, to a small degree, wish to research them....to seek a way to communicate peacefully if that is possible. However, I will not interfere in your work. I can only hope that mine doesn't either."
He let his hand go, "Senor, it has been an honor to save you. Hopefully I won't have to again but if you need my help, please ask."
As D'Souza was at the door, Doc stopped him, "Robert, if ever you want to repay me, make peace with your family." Doc shook his head as he spoke, "there is nothing more valuable than family."
With that, he watched D'Souza leave. Doc himself resumed his rounds with other patients.
Once outside, D'Souza shook his head. He missed his family terribly, but they would not, could not understand that duty came first.
He walked slowly, limping slightly. Funny thing was, he had no place to go, except back to Toledo, and he had no intentions to go there, as Doc had thought.
Limping to a public terminal, he accessed a secret account that he had maintained, for an emergency. It did not have much, but it'd get him off the ground. A quick visit to a used ship dealer got him a decrepit Eagle, about to fall apart. He had his fair share of experience with ships, though, so it wouldn't, not after he fixed it up a little.
Now he just needed to start from scratch, find someone who would help. That was the toughest part. Most of the people who would help him were in the Corsairs, or The Order, neither were an option. He racked his brain for any spare scrap of information that would help.
Need someone to pick up a stray...Ah.
He patched himself in his Eagle, opened a comm channel and fired a message. It was a very long shot, but better that than no shots at all.
I could use some shots myself... He thought wryly as the Eagle launched into space.
Robert looked around at his cubbyhole in distaste. he'd asked for a small room, and he had got a small room. Still, it had a bed, a toilet and the most important thing, a terminal.
Getting up, he winced at the slight pain in his leg, the hurts had not disappeared yet. Mastering it, he limped slightly to the terminal, and began thinking of encryption chains in his head, figuring out which would be the most suitable. Discovery at this stage would not be fruitful. it could be disastrous.
Do I even have anyone left I can trust?, He thought. Rummaging in his mind brought no results. His friends had died or disappeared. The newer recruits hadn't known the erstwhile fleet admiral that well. Stretching out his legs, he continued to think.
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