Codename Fulcrum

Chapter 9: Melon Water

This time around, waking up was surprisingly refreshing. So, maybe Rayha doesn't know everything, he mused. As he sat up on the bunk in the medbay, he was mildly disappointed to not see the friendly face of the Jedi General. One of the medical assistant droids buzzed over on its repulsors, scrolling through a data pad and muttering to itself.

"How long have I been out?" Kallus asked the droid as he took the man's vitals.

"Your session in the bacta tank lasted 18.23 hours, and you have been unconscious for 16.56 hours," the droid chirped. "Your vitals look good," it added, sweeping around his bunk. "It is recommended that you stay for at least a few hours to regain your senses, but it is mostly up to you. The room is available for another 10.11 hours. Your clothes are sitting on the guest chair," the droid motioned towards the opposite side of the room. "You will not be requiring another session to heal, as everything looks like it has healed completely. Though, you may still experience headaches due to your concussion."

"Thanks," Kallus responded. A bit more hesitantly, he added, "Do you know where the, uh, General went?"

After a brief moment, presumably to look her up on the data pad, the droid started spouting off medical information. "General Rayha Sallaros, age 24, homeworld unknown, fema-"

"Yes, but where did she go?" Kallus asked, stressing the where part.

"The General received a personal transmission and left soon after you went under. Where she is now, I do not know."

Trying not to let his disappointment show, he thanked the droid as it left the room. As much as he wanted to get up and start moving, he figured a few hours' rest would do him good while he figured out what path lay ahead of him. That is, until something the droid said stuck out to him. Apparently, the Empire weren't the only ones who didn't know where Rayha's homeworld was. Wondering if it was because she didn't know, or if it was more that she was reluctant to share, Kallus made a mental note to ask the next time he saw her.

With a sigh, he settled back into the bed. He really needed to figure out his next step, and push away- or, at the very least, lock up- all his anxiety regarding his change of heart. For the most part, it seemed that those who knew who he was had accepted him, or were at least trying to. Zeb, Rex, and Rayha had all been kind, cracking jokes and smiling. He was mostly hoping that now, without his ISB uniform, the other rebels on the base wouldn't give him a second look. Step One is going to be 'stop thinking everyone hates you and get over yourself', and Step Two can be 'make friends', he thought with amusement. Hopefully it'll be that easy.

As far as the broad overview for the past few days and the foreseeable future goes, he had decided upon one goal: fit in. Kallus had never been keen on changing himself to blend in, but he figured that in this case it was the optimum choice, at least for the time being. He assumed it would mostly consist of keeping his ideas to himself. Although, he did have an extensive amount of insider knowledge concerning the Empire and its strategies. He'd be a great asset to the Rebellion... All things Alexsandr was just going to have to get a feel for over the next few days. Who knows, maybe if his Imperial insight was able to help, he could come to embrace being an ex-Imperial. It was a nice pipe dream.

He glanced at the chrono, and was surprised at how long he had been laying there attempting to figure out his plan of action. He carefully got up, expecting the pain that had become commonplace over the past few days, but was pleasantly surprised that he felt normal. He walked to where his clothes were awaiting him and peeled off the med gown. Looking over his body, Alexsandr was impressed that there wasn't much bruising left. His wrists were clean, as was his face. Where he had sustained a black eye was still a bit sore to the touch, but other than that, he felt good to go.