Volar's Story - part 01 The beginning of another beautiful littim (one local day light period, or about four standard hours; one Lazaveltian day is about eight hours long -translator) finds an average looking man walking to work. He is one among many walking under the canopy of trees covering the walkway. To his left, a medical supply store. To his right, the rescue service garage. He smiles when he sees the rescue van's gleaming chrome. Having worked the first three tentims (a tentim is a local month, 1/10th of the local year or about fifty-five standard days -translator) of his internship in the rescue van, he knows it is packed with every medical tool possible. It's powerful inducted fan makes this hovercraft fast and maneuverable. It can be anywhere in the city in five tipas (one tipa is 1/100th of one littim or about 2.5 standard minutes -translator). The smells of numerous types of flowers and shrubbery decorating every building is carried over the crowd by a warm breeze. This, combined with the sounds of a hundred people talking and laughing as they walk to work , convinces Volar, our average man, that the city planners did their job well. The short walk from the maglev was always invigorating. Rounding the corner, he comes to his destination: Humana Hospital - the best medical facility on the planet. Today, he will be assisting Rechaet the Healer in the urgent care room. This means if anyone comes today, Volar will have to use everything Rechaet has taught him. Volar feels he is prepared for the three or four patients which routinely arrive at the hospital's urgent care room each littim. Fifteen tipas after arriving, while Rechat the Healer and Volar were reviewing standardized medication dosages, the first injured person comes in. A small boy has broken his arm when he crashed his bicycle. The boy's parents formally commend him into the care of the healers. As the mother stands at the side of the table the father sits in the hospital's temple room praying. With Rechat watching him, Volar inspects the nuerosupresser which the rescue technicians had put on, then lightly touches the boy's arm and closes his eyes. He can feel the break and damaged tissues around it. Opening his eyes, he washes the laceration with a sterile solution, aligns the bones and fuses them with a hand laser. After closing the wound, Volar concentrates upon his gift. Reaching out with his feelings and subtly directed the boy's natural healing ability to the broken arm, Volar can feel the warmth as the healing process accelerates. He finishes by placing the boy's arm in an inflatable splint. He had done it. All that was left was to send the boy to a room where he could rest and be observed for three littims. By then, the arm should be healed and the boy released. The family was shown to a small comfortable room where the boy could recover. "Excellent!" commended Rechat. After some words of reassurance with the family, they oversaw the assistant's clean up, then retired to the healer's room. "Remember, we treat the injured, not the injury." admonished Rechat once they were alone. "You should have reassured the boy more than you did. Your words and manners were acceptable for an adult, but insufficient for a child." Volar spoke quietly "Yes, Sir. I did consider it, but using the gift tires me so quickly, I have to concentrate on it. It is difficult to heal and talk at the same time." Rechat revealed "It will become easier the more you practice with it. Other than that, you did well. Now, to continue our lessons; Let us assume you are faced with an unconscious man; he is showing signs of..." Volar sometimes thought his teacher's continual questioning even when he was exhausted was a bit extreme. But, Rechat was THE Healer. The best on the planet according to the Job Administrators. Who was he to question Rechaet's methods? But a nap sounded so good. Ten tipas later a woman arrived at the urgent care door. She was very sick. It was going to be a long littim. Eventually, the sun set. Looking out the window of the maglev as it whooshed silently through the city on it's elevated track, Volar reflected on his day. He had helped three people, reviewed standardized medication dosage tables and learned how to use the hand held magnetic imager. He was so tired, he was trying to block out the excitement around him. He sunk into the soft padding of the seats and his half open eyes traced the decorative trim around the passenger car. He was only dimly aware that today Lazavelt's first faster than light space ship in 500 years was due to return. He didn't have much time after his studies for anything as removed from daily life as the return to space. So the ship was coming home. That was good. So the hyper-whatevers had functioned perfectly. Well, if they hadn't thought they would, they wouldn't have gone to the nearest star - what was it's name? Somebody who cared (and wasn't exhausted) knew. So Volar wasn't watching the overhead public vidscreen as the other riders were. He didn't see the image Moon City was sending of a huge unknown triangular ship approaching in silence. Source: Mark Nielipinski These pages are in no way endorsed or sponsored by Lucasfilm Ltd or West End Games. ®, TM & © Lucasfilm Ltd. (LFL). All rights reserved. Trademarks of LFL used by West End Games under authorization.