The last thing he remembered was Alythra grabbing the yoke and trying to wrestle it away from him. Under certain circumstances that might have been fun, but not while flying at high speeds through Coruscant traffic. He doesn’t not remembered shouting something like “let go you crazy bitch” and considering backhanding her, and then they nearly hit an oncoming speeder, and then...<br/><br/>And then?<br/><br/>They must have spun out and crashed. He couldn’t remember. Just snippets of pain and impressions of being dragged. Bad as his chest had hurt, blacking out had been a mercy. But now consciousness was returning. Consciousness, and a peculiar numbness and construction on his chest that spoke of bandages, and a fuzziness in his skull that spoke of anesthesia. Must have been a bad crash.<br/><br/>“Vape I missed you.”  The words were spoken low and soft.<br/><br/>“Aim... for the... center of mass...  next time...” he croaked. With an effort he cracked open his eyes, learning he was in a small white-walled room with some sort of droid standing over him. Nearby, a Twi’lek was wrapped around the crimson figure of Alythra.  Blinking a few times, he wished he felt well enough to properly appreciate the scene.  Only then did he register the bacta wrap on his bare chest.<br/><br/>“Ladies,” he finally said. “It appears I am in your debt. My thanks.”