Love works with interconnecting circles.

- Writings of the Sol Empress, Words of Faith

[Hope]

Hope's mind swirled on the margin of consciousness, drifting in and out of darkness. Eventually, physical sensations came back to her, along with the pain. My head hurts. My whole body hurts. Her eyes fluttered open. Where am I?

She laid in a narrow bed with her head slightly elevated, covered with a thin white blanket and dressed in a simple patterned gown. A small tablet viewer attached to the bed rail beside her drew colorful lines across the screen and gently beeped with each heartbeat. A tattered gray curtain surrounding the bed blocked most of the view beyond it, but her ears made out the murmurs of voices and the periodic passing of footsteps. The area had an antiseptic smell to it. So, some kind of hospital.

Hope took inventory of her body. An IV tube connected to the back of one hand and another tube ran from under the sheets connected to a catheter. A soft bandage circled her head above her ears, matching several more bandages scattered across her upper body. Wow, I am really banged up.

Hazy memories surfaced in her mind — they crashed, people came on hover cycles, they shot Gabriel. Hope called out, "Gabriel? Are you here?" No answer came.

More memories returned — fighting, escaping on a stolen hover cycle, someone shooting at her, a searing pain in a leg, then falling. A strange numbness throbbed in her leg, yet seemed distant and disembodied. Gazing down at her body, Hope lifted her left leg, but the blanket near the foot of the bed did not rise with it. A wave of panic froze her, stealing her breath and twisting her gut. The soft beeps on the monitor sped up, racing. No, no...

Willing her arm to move, she dragged the blanket to the side. It revealed what she feared, the lower portion of her leg, from just below the knee, was missing. White bandages wrapped around the stub.

Hope flopped her head back on the pillow and squeezed her eyes shut. This can't be happening! Anguish gripped her heart — grief for a lost part of herself. As she trembled, a single tear leaked out from the corner of one eye.

I have to find my brother! She called out again, this time louder, "Gabriel!" Hearing no answer, Hope pushed her elbows down and slid across the bed, grimacing from shooting pain in her ribs and the dizziness in her head.

"Steady now. You are in no shape yet to get up by yourself." A man in blue medical scrubs eased her back on the bed.

Hope laid back on the pillow, breathing deeply to chase away the sparkling lights swarming in her vision. "Where am I?"

"The New Hope Shelter in Orin. I am Dr. Stephen Boone. What is your name?" he asked.

"Hope." She studied Dr. Boone. He looked young, less than expected for a physician. Standing tall, he was trim but not skinny, and with well-defined muscles. His mussed sandy-brown hair bordered on unruly, and a two-day stubble grew on an otherwise gentle face. Deep hazel eyes, streaked with moss-green, projected compassion, but also held a hint of mischief.

Stephen grinned. "So then, you are the new Hope at New Hope." The grin faded. "Sorry, perhaps now is not the best time for bad puns."

A small smile spread across Hope's face. "No. Now is the perfect time."

His face took on the neutral expression that healthcare professionals sometimes project. "I see you noticed your leg. I'm sorry, there was nothing else we could do. But fortunately, whatever severed it did so cleanly and cauterized the blood vessels, else you might have bled to death."

Hope mumbled. "Yeah, a plasma bolt will do that."

The doctor raised an eyebrow and continued. "Besides the limb loss, you had a concussion, bruised ribs, and extensive contusions. You've been unconscious for two days."

"Two days?"

He continued, "I was the one who found you at the bottom of that canyon and brought you here. You are fortunate to even be alive. Had I not been looking down at the right time from the bridge, I would not have seen you. If I may ask, what happened?"

Hope considered her words, thinking it best not to reveal herself as the Sol Empress. "My brother and I crash landed on this world. Then, we met an unfriendly group. They stunned my brother and shot me as I tried to escape. The last thing I remember is falling. Now here I am."

"Marauders, an unsavory lot," he said. "So, you are an outsider. That explains the lack of identification implant."

She looked up into his eyes. "Do you know anything about my brother? His name is Gabriel."

"No one else was near when I found you. If the Marauders took him, they may have sold him to the Khan. There is a bounty on trespassers. I will see what I can find out."

A bit of tension released within Hope and a small light flickered in her heart. Then maybe Gab is still alive.

Sitting down beside her on the bed, he asked, "Are you is some sort of trouble, Hope?" As her eyes darted down, he held up a hand. "It's okay, if so. Most people here at the shelter are, in some way."

"We fled here, barely escaping with our lives. Powerful people want my brother and I dead. They already killed our sister." She paused, then turned her eyes back up. "And I must warn you, helping me may put you in danger." A thought brought forth a lightness in her head. "Was my genetic profile entered into a medical database? They might track me with that."

"We did, yes," he answered. "But the Khan restrict outside contact, so it wouldn't be available off-world. I will put a restriction on your records." He stood up. "Someone will come and disconnect you from those tubes so you can get up and move. That is an important part of recovery." The room lights flickered on and off in the room. He sighed. "They still have not fixed the power system."

Hope touched his arm. "Thank you, Doctor. For everything."

His smile warmed her. "Please call me Stephen. We keep things informal around here."

*****

"Besides the clinic, we also have a job training center, community kitchen, childcare, and orphanage," Lissa, the physical therapist, explained. She shook her head, waving a gray-streaked black ponytail back and forth. "So sad about the children. We find them all the time dropped off at our door with only the clothes on their back and a note begging us to care for them."

Suffering people come here. Lost in a melancholy mood for the last day, Hope felt a twinge of guilt in her chest. Buck up, buttercup, Gab would tell me with his stupid grin. Hope said, "The shelter performs a wonderful service. How is it funded?"

"We ask our clients to pay what they can, but nearly all cannot. Most of the funding comes from the Sol Priestess' office."

"I would like to meet the Priestess. It is important that I do."

"That be not possible now. Priestess Sanva was arrested ten days ago, and no one has heard from her."

Hope snapped her head around. "Arrested? Why?"

"I think because she opposed the Khan much too loudly. They have begun to put down dissent." Lissa blew out a puff of air. "The Khan are like a sickness on the land." A smile chased away her grim expression. "But enough of that. Today, you walk."

From a wheeled cart by the door, Lissa lifted a prosthetic leg. Constructed mostly of a dark-gray plas-steel framework, it had a long cuff at one end and a curved blade for a foot.

Sitting at the edge of a chair, Hope's eyes widened. "Am I ready for a prosthetic so soon?"

"The sooner, the better, before your muscles weaken. Doctor Boone thinks you are ready." The therapist kneeled before Hope, slipping the pliable cuff around the bandaged leg stump. With the application of a violet light, the cuff shrank, forming a tight fit to the leg as if a second skin. "It is not the newest bio-mech models, but we are fortunate that it became available at all. How does it feel?"

Hope gulped, pondering the implications of how the prosthesis became available, but chose not to ask. She lifted the artificial leg, bending at the knee. There was a weight to it, but the lack of sensation made it feel oddly displaced, a contradiction between eyes and body. "It feels... strange. But there is no pain."

"Let's try it out." Lissa pulled Hope to standing by her hands. "Try some weight." Hope shifted her stance, wincing at a jolt of pain. "Good!" Lissa nodded, releasing Hope's hands to balance on her own. "The pain will fade as the cuff adjusts to you."

Hope walked back and forth under the therapist's watchful eye, supporting herself on a pair of long bars. An elation bordering on euphoria spread through her. I can do this!

"Looking good," a voice said. Stephen leaned against the doorframe with arms folded. The warmth of his smile produced another kind of euphoria within Hope. He nodded. "You take well to the prosthesis, Hope. Although I could be going out on a limb here."

Hope groaned, clamping her eyes shut. "Oh, that was bad. I'd give you a witty comeback, but I'm stumped."

Now it was Stephen's turn to cringe. "Well, with part of your left leg missing, you are more likely to be right."

Giggling despite herself, Hope said, "Please, no more missing leg puns. I won't stand for it."

"Sweet Creator, spare me..." Lissa grumbled, rolling her eyes. "I think I am done here."

He lifted his eyebrows. "May I take our patient to lunch? The walk might be good for her."

"Fine," Lissa said. She pointed a finger at the doctor and narrowed her eyes. "But watch after her, Stephen. I do not want to be called for a floor extraction."