Fame and Fortune

Fame and Fortune Prologue and Chapter One

Fame and Fortune

Prologue

The man entered awareness quickly, like a light suddenly flicking on overhead. His eyes snapped open, and he stared at the stark white ceiling for long minutes before his thoughts became a bit more coherent. Slowly, he turned his head to the right, taking in the austere bedroom. White walls. Brown dresser and chair. Tan carpet on the floor. With great effort, he turned his head to the left. Two shut doors.

He pushed the tan blanket off his chest, and sat up. His head spun with that small motion, and he swallowed a wave of nausea down as he stared down at his lanky body, wearing nothing but baggy gray shorts. He managed to stand up, but his legs trembled, as if they were unaccustomed to bearing his weight. Carefully, he took one unsteady step, then another, until he staggered against the wall, gasping.

The door on the right did not open, but the other door obeyed the 'open' command when the small button was pressed. Inside was a refresher, clean and just as glaringly white as the rest of the .... apartment? Perhaps this wasn't an apartment at all, the man suddenly wondered, as it occurred to him there were no windows. Perhaps it was a prison. Was he a criminal?

A sudden, startling realization came over him. He had no idea if he was a criminal, although, in the back of his mind the thought niggled at him that he operated outside legal boundaries. He stepped inside the refresher, cautiously raising his gaze to the small mirror, and his heart sank further. The deep blue eyes staring back at him were not familiar in the slightest. Nor was the black, shaggy hair. He ran fingers over his unlined facial features, noting his perfect, straight nose, lining up symmetrically over full lips. I'm young... twenty? he thought in surprise. At least he was good-looking, although for some bizarre reason he felt a stirring of jealousy over that fact. Who am I? How did I get here? There were no answers for the stranger in the mirror.

After taking a long shower, and testing the locked door dozens of times, the man finally slept again, more out of boredom than tiredness. Images battered his dreams. A battered ship. A chestnut colored Wookiee. A petite dark-haired young woman. When he awoke, he felt frustration welling up. He should know names to put with those images, and he sat up, grinding his teeth over his mind's refusal to cooperate.

A second later, a bald, older man entered through the previously locked door. His face was heavily lined with age and his portly form dressed in standard medical professional clothing. He was pushing a cart filled with several covered items.

"Good morning," he drawled out cheerfully. "How are we feeling this fine morning?"

The young man eyed the cart warily. "I don't know about you, but I'm feeling lousy." He stood, putting distance between himself and this stranger. "Who are you?" It was more than disconcerting to hear his own voice, which while deep and masculine sounding, was as foreign to him as his face. And even more surprising, it came with an accent, the same accent as the old man and one that he could recall was considered outlier Corellian, an accent not from the populated cities but rather the rural, agricultural areas.

The man grinned broadly. "Of course. We were never properly introduced, were we? My name is Doctor Nik Belvolus. Well, Nik is my nickname, haha. My actual first name is Nikiittorit. But you can call me Doctor Nik."

"Doctor Nik," the younger man repeated blankly. "Where am I? Who am I?"

The doctor rubbed his narrow chin, frowning. "Memory loss. I didn't consider that, actually. But I guess it shouldn't be too surprising. Hopefully, it's just temporary." He stepped closer, squinting up at the much taller man. "Do you recall anything?"