This scene doesn’t quite fit with the others, as I wrote it before tying up the story arc in the last scene. I’m still fond of its timing, though.
Author’s Note
Kellaro stared hard at his big toe and attempted to move it. He thought the light shifted, just a little, where it reflected off his toenail, but he couldn’t be sure. He slammed his head back on the baseboard irritably and stared up at the ceiling.
“Seetwo? What time is it?”
“Approximately 0436 hours, sir,” said the protocol droid standing by the bedroom door. “Exactly 1 minute and 57 seconds since last you asked.”
“Ugh!” Kellaro tried to roll over on his side, but that hurt, and he was left to straining with one arm to reach the datapad on his bedside table. Vette had cleverly left it just out of reach, to encourage him to rest, but instead it was probably the most stretching Kellaro had done since he had made it back to Odessen.
“Droid? What time is it now?”
“Approximately 0437 hours, sir. Exactly 30 seconds–”
“Nevermind!” Kellaro shouted, and he slumped to stare at the ceiling.
“Master, you have a visitor,” said Seetwo suddenly.
“At this hour? Do you know what time it is?”
“It is approximately 0439 hours, sir. Exactly–”
“Shut up or deactivate!”
“Of course, Master, but… what do you want me to do with the visitor?”
“Let him in,” Kellaro grumbled.
The door wooshed softly, and Brant stepped in, his robes open at the front, revealing a bare, sweaty chest. He looked around and spied Kellaro looking up at him. “I thought I heard something. What are you doing awake?”
“Same to you,” muttered Kellaro.
“What am I doing awake? I was training,” said Brant and sat down on the foot of the bed. Kellaro stared hard at his leg, willing it to move away, or to raise up, or to kick Brant, or to do something, but it just sat there.
Brant seemed to sense the object of his ire. “You had an entire walker fall on you, Kellaro. You can’t expect perfect health just a month out.”
“I at least would’ve expected movement,” said Kellaro glumly, and then he closed his eyes, tight.
Brant said nothing as the tension of Kellaro’s fear stretched tight.
“What if it never gets better?” Kellaro said suddenly. “What if I’m always going to be stuck here like this?”
“You won’t be stuck here forever,” said Brant. “Sooner or later, they’d have to tip your corpse into the incinerator.”
“Oh, ha ha. Not funny.”
Brant shrugged. “Prosthetics exist. You’ll be fine.”
“You can’t have a leg for prosthetics to work, Brant.”
Brant met his gaze. “I know.”
Kellaro slapped his cheek on the pillow, suddenly not wanting to broach the subject anymore. “What’s the rest of the crew up to?”
“Following Jorgan’s orders, as they should be.”
“And you?”
“Ticking off the others, as is natural.”
Kellaro sighed. Brant couldn’t help a chuckle.
“I’m joking. We’re getting along fine. Something about saving their major’s stupid head warmed them up to me.”
“That’s good for you, at least,” Kellaro muttered. He turned his head backward and forward, but the view of the ceiling hadn’t changed, nor had the walls. “Oh, come on, man! I need details. I’ve been stuck in here for days, and no one tells me anything. They just keep saying I should rest. Well, I’ve rested so much I think I’ll lose my mind if I have to stare at the ceiling for even one more second.”
“Honestly, there’s not much to tell,” said Brant. “Bracca was a lost cause even before we arrived, and Father’s pulling his troops out of the system. The Emperor’s starting to catch on to our guerilla tactics, so it looks like strike forces like ours will be on the back burner until Dad’s spy network comes up with another plan. We’d be stuck here even if you weren’t wounded.”
“So I’m doubly useless.”
“I wouldn’t go that far.”
“Come off it. You know the truth. We were all useless from the start. The Emperor’s got more Skytroopers than there are stars in the sky, and even if we blew up all of them we’d still have to deal with the Eternal Fleet. The Alliance is just a small thorn in his side.”
“Mmh, so I’ve been telling you from the beginning.” Brant pulled his knees up under his chin and wrapped his arms loosely about them. “I don’t think this war is going to be won with military might, Kellaro. The Emperor is a Force-user. Even with the Skytroopers and the Fleet gone, he’d still be a force to reckon with.”
“So why do we even try?”
Brant tweaked his big toe, and Kellaro jumped. “That hurt!”
“Good. Means it still works.”
Kellaro glared at him. Brant sighed at him.
“Why do we try doing anything, Kellaro? It’s not like there’s some big card-counter in the sky who can tell us exactly how all the sabacc will play out. Honestly, I think nearly getting your legs blown off is getting to you.”
“Doesn’t exactly take a mastermind to figure that one out,” Kellaro said, and he blinked several times to keep his eyes clear.
Brant watched him. “Maybe not,” he conceded.
“Well, never mind. Go back to your training or whatever. At least it’s something useful to do.”
Brant said nothing, but he didn’t leave either. Kellaro finally turned halfway over to give him a kick with his good foot, which Brant caught and calmly set back down on the bed again.
“Channel that into getting better,” the Sith said, and, giving Kellaro’s knee a final pat, he left.
“…Seetwo? What time is it?”
“I’m sorry, Master, but you threatened me with deactivation last time I told you, so I’m not entirely sure if telling you now would be advisable.”
“Ugh!” And Kellaro pulled his pillow over his head.