Josh stepped down the gangway from the freighter's hold, his kitbag over his shoulder, his weapon belt hanging from his left hand. He almost regretted that last when he saw the motley quartet waiting for them.
The first one that registered was a Wookiee, a webwork of white stripes in his fur denoting where he had been scarred long ago, clasping a mammoth blaster rifle. There was also a massive bipedal reptile, similarly armed, its carnivore's teeth exposed in a horrid grin. The third was a bulky human with obvious cybernetic replacements for his arms, holding an identical weapon to the other two.
The fourth member of the quartet was the odd one out - an unassuming human male, dressed in a grey jumpsuit, completely unarmed. Nonetheless, he seemed utterly at ease in front of the ferocious-looking three behind him.
Then, as one, they snapped to attention and saluted.
Josh blinked, and realised that the three armed people were all wearing the uniform of the New Republic Infantry, with rank patches of private. A moment longer, and he returned the salute. "At ease," he said, and the grunts visibly relaxed, grins spreading over their faces - in the reptile's case, his grin relaxed a little.
The man in grey smiled pleasantly and walked over to Josh, hand extended. "Captain Nolan," he said in a strong baritone, "Welcome to Perdition Base." Josh took the offered hand and shook it, and the man in grey continued, "I'm Warrant Officer Randel Nax. I'm your assigned psych technician." He grinned. "Go ahead and look around shiftily, if you like - I'm used to it."
Josh caught himself mid-glance. "People do that a lot?"
Nax smiled. "Even my wife, when she remembers. Oh, by the way, we like to keep things around here fairly informal, so please call me Randel."
"Informal? When the doctor meets me on the pad? I'm shocked," Josh replied, a smile on his face mirroring Randel's. "I'm Josh. Some people call me Crispy."
"Which do you prefer?"
"Josh, truth be told. I answer to Crispy, though."
"Josh it is, then. Come on, we'll get you settled." Randel turned to leave.
Josh cleared his throat. "I know we're being informal, but what's with the goon squad?"
"They're not for you," said Randel apologetically, turning back towards Josh. "You see, we've a reputation as a monstrous interrogation facility to uphold, so we like to greet prisoners with as ugly a reception as we can."
"We got here a little early," said the cyborg cheerily. "We kind of like hazing duty."
Josh bit back a sudden surge of - not anger, but intense disapproval - at the private's breach of discipline. Not only had he spoken out of turn, he had neglected to address his superiors correctly. With some effort, Josh grinned instead, and said, "You guys could probably make them wet themselves just with a mean look."
"We try, zzzir," replied the reptile.
"Anyway, Josh," said Randel, "We should probably get you on your way before Lt. Coghlan brings the prisoners out."
"Lead on, Macduff," said Josh, gesturing grandiosely with his left hand. The motion brought his weapon belt back into his field of view, and he paused. "I suppose you want these."
Randel nodded, suddenly grave. "I was going to wait for the security checkpoint to ask." He reached out his hand and lifted the belt from Josh's grip. "Thank you."
A true soldier is a weapon, and cannot be disarmed muttered a voice at the back of Josh's mind.; Fighting through the sudden chill down his spine, Josh forced a smile at Randel. "I won't be needing them, right?"
Randel gave a lopsided grin. "Your job here's to heal, not to harm. Feeling up to it?"
Josh glanced bak to the freighter, his thoughts leaping to the medbay where Sylvana lay. "God, I hope so."
"Tell me about your homeworld," Randel asked a short while after they passed the security checkpoint. "It's all right - I'm cleared up the wazoo. You have to be, to be a head-doc at this place. I'm interested to know how all this must seem to someone of your background."
"To be honest, I try not to think about it," Josh replied. "I mean, we have a lot of the same kind of stuff - things that fly, things that you shoot people with, things you store and transmit data with - and you can sort of avoid thinking there are vehicles not much larger than our groundcars that can take off from one planet and land on another in less time than one of our aircraft can cross an ocean." He drew in a breath, and looked around. "No, the biggest culture shock for me was non-humans. Some you can almost pretend are humans in funny suits, but then they say or do something which really rubs in that they're not of the same species."
Randel grinned. "We, all of us, are forged on different gravities and under different stars. In my line of work, you get to meet some humans that are far more alien than mere non-humans." He leaned closer, and whispered, "Don't tell anyone I talked like that - I could get in trouble."
Josh looked at him in puzzlement.
Randel shrugged. "High brass don't like to hear about the distinction between humans and non-humans - never mind that the same sorts of things could be said of MonCals or non-MonCals, Wookiees or non-Wookieees. We're supposed to be the same as everyone else, but they're allowed to be diffferent." He stopped, chuckled to himself, and shook his head. "Listen to me," he said with a grin, "Bitching about the brass. I've been in the forces too long."
"How long's that?" Josh asked curiously, surprised at how much he was warming to the unassuming doctor.
"My parents joined the Rebellion when I was nine. I was twelve on Hoth - I fought in the trenches there." Randel looked distant for a moment, then took a breath. "I was a mess after that. But when the psychs helped me... well, I knew what I wanted to be."
Josh smiled broadly. "Someone who doesn't get shot at?"
Randel laughed. "Yeah, that too. Though this job's not without its risks, either."
Just then, Randel stopped in front of a nondescript door. "This'll be your quarters," he said, gesturing to the door with a flourish. "Just stick your hand on the plate, it'll open."
Josh did so, then started in surprise at what lay behind. He'd expected a somewhat spartan setup, but there was a luxuriously large bed, what looked to be a holoprojector, a separate bathroom - with what looked to be an actual bath.
"Wha -" he managed, indicating the room.
Randel glanced inside, then smiled at Josh. "This place isn't always easy on a person's mind," he explained, "With some of the digging we sometimes need to do, it can be downright hellish. So having a nice safe place to unwind is helpful."
Josh nodded, seeing the wisdom of it. "So how closely is it monitored?"
Randel looked vaguely embarrassed. "Droids monitor you around the clock, and we keep tabs on your vital signs. You understand we can't give you the full rundown..."
Josh nodded again. "This is a psych hospital, and I'm nuts. I know."
"That's a little strong, you know. You've got a problem, and it's my job to work with you to solve it.." Randel nodded towards the quarters. "Go on, get settled. My comlink code's on the speed-dial, so call me if you need anything."
Josh nodded in understanding. "Thanks, by the way."
"For what?"
"For not treating me like an idiot."
"You're NRI. You wouldn't be if you were dumb. Go on, unpack, and if you want I'll give you a tour of Perdition."
Josh smiled. "Yeah. I'd like that."