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Post by Whill Shaman Xixo on Feb 27, 2013 16:34:08 GMT -8
*By Human standards, it was a pleasant world with a mixture of climates, including plains, hills, and forests. The Dressellians first evolved on the sub-equatorial grasslands of the main continent, Breehara. The planet has slightly lower than standard gravity and a population just over three billion.*
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syla
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Post by syla on Apr 28, 2013 16:27:35 GMT -8
*The pain was astonishing, but welcomed. It was what had cept her awake througout the entire ordeal. She held Josh around the waist with her right arm and had slid the left under his left armpit, and then over his neck as he sat in her lap. This would not have been hurtfull if she had not used her neural implants to lock her muscles into invigurating tension. Basically, she made herself into a seatbelt for him. if not, the turbulance and the landing would have nocked his frail flesh and bone body into every console and metal piece of ship interior possible, ending him in a mush. But she payed a high price. Even a couple seconds of such tension could end in muscle spasms. She had held onto him for several minutes.
Visibility was null. The interior of the small fighter was filled with both smoke and the white powder that was used as extinglisher. Not toxic per say, erm... at shorter intervals, but lets just say it was not govermnent approved, cheap and easy to come by in the circles she moved in an older life. She had no idea what was going on either, LEGO had disconnected her with a cryptic message about "Sorry mom, you fly like a *donkey*" although he used a different word for said animal. The jack was still in her neck but she felt nothing coming from him. She feared the worst.
She let go of josh while she was still able, feeling the immense tension in her arms and chest building to the most bisarr spasm she will soon feel ever, punching a small button covered in glass to her upper right. The glass shattered against her hand and cut it bleeding. She felt the acidy burning in her eyes from the smoke and the white cloud. She acted on pure instinct, knowing her ship like the back of her hand, since she built every inch of it, and now she was scared she had lost it. She felt something hot behind her, wich was either the aftermath heat of a fire or a still raging and growing inferno that will end them all once and for all. Tears came from her eyes, false ones erected by the foul air.
Hissing, hydraulics letting go, emergency opening of the canopy after her strike at the above mentioned button. The smoke around them sucked out and air coming in but too little too late, she was allready drowning in the gray and white that surrounded her, only seeing a bright light shooting through the grayness. The Sun. Crap, she was never an envirodouche... but seeing the sun felt good. Wichever sun it was.
She manadged to state the obvious with just a little air, just enough to put the thought to sound and leave a little air for herself.*
"Go."
*Then she started to fumble for her own belt, wich held her in place. She reached the central connector for the seatbelt over her belly and just as she was about to press the two buttons (child safety buttons) her hands started to cramp, muscle spasming. The fingers pulled back, as if she would be clawing at nothing and the rest of her arms followed. Syla let go of the rest of her air in a near silent scream as her body started to burn, every muscle in her upper body rejecting commands and deciding it was "Kriff you day", tensing again, locking... she was a sitting duck.
At least the canopy was open, josh could escape. At least the message was sent. At least she had done something good with her life.
She took a big breath to scream again, the smoke hurting her lungs but it was nothing compared to what her muscles did to her.
She was ready to die with a good conscience.*
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Joshua
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Post by Joshua on Apr 29, 2013 0:53:27 GMT -8
Reaching halfway across the galaxy while plummeting in a burning ship probably not one of the best idea's he'd ever had. He certainly wouldn't recommend it. His connection to the Force was deep enough that he'd totally lost all perspective of is physical body and, given the jarring return to normality, his body wracked with pain from the ordeals of the past twenty four hours, the transition was disconcerting to say the least. He had vague recollections of the clouds tearing past the viewport, of Syla's arms tightening around him then...
He spluttered and came awake, coughing out smoke and bloody. Blood? Oh that wasn't good. His eyes flickered open, already burning from the chemicals, and flickered around wildly. How long he'd been out he couldn't even begin to guess but, by the static nature of the ship, they were planetside. A sharp crack sounded from somewhere nearby and the canopy opened grudgingly, spilling some of the smoke into the outside air. A choked sound escaped from behind him. It sounded vaguely like a "go" but he couldn't be sure. He struggled to take a breath, his surely broke ribs and the dense smoke making it all but impossible, the lack of air causing a surge of panic to rise.
Almost like a reflex, an instinct ingrained over the years, he reached out to the Force and found its extended hand waiting, seeking only his desire to connect with what would always be there and ready for him to embrace. The power came flooding into him like hot lead, seeping in through his pores, saturating his bones. With a negligent flick of said power he was up and launched out of the small cockpit, turning in the air to land in a crouch in front of the stricken ship. With the power came the awareness and he could feel Syla's distress. The pain of his ribs and shoulder, the latter from a blaster wound suffered on Algara, faded into the background as the Force sustained him, enabling him to do what needed to be done. As he landed his right hand extended out, the invisible hands of the Force grasping Syla as gently as they could and levitating her out of the cockpit to the ground in front of the Jedi Knight.
Swaying slightly from the effort Joshua looked down as Syla's pale and smoke-stained face for a moment, peering intently through the Force for any sign of serious injury. She appeared beat up but not dangerously so. The smoke intake was the most damaging and she seemed to be on the verge of cardiac arrest.
Placing his hands on her chest he let the Force flow, using him as a conduit to connect with Syla and accelerate he body's own healing. Force Healing was by no means the specialty of Joshua, a Jedi Sentinel at heart, but he knew enough to effectively employ it.
As the warm, soothing currents of the lightside flowed through him he chanted softly under his breath.
"Breathe, Syla, breath..."
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syla
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Post by syla on Apr 29, 2013 3:37:08 GMT -8
*As she was lifted out of the cockpit, and that unhealthy cloud, it was clear that she was not there anymore. Her body was shaking, arms swinging about, some kind of foam exiting her mouth. It looked like some kind of OD, although she seemed to handle the exidentally inhaled drugs earlyer so that should not be it. As she was laid on the ground and the wacky jedi hands laying healing thing started the shaking ended. She did not move though.
Looking at the ship, she might have ended the same. Done for.*
*Now, nearly all versions of this in movies are the ideal ones, the well trained dude in the red boxers and the german name saves the girl out of the water, gives her some "chest and mouth play" and then she wakes up choughing a little bit and they live their lives just as it had been before the unforunate incident. This was the case here too, in ways. All of a sudden Syla was awakened by her choking on something, she oppened her eyes and choughed hard, choughed for her life and she was able to clear her throat of black phleghm and blood. Unfortunetley, the usual movie-like romantic scene was excluded from this, as most of this phleghm flew straigt at joshuas face.
She grabbed her own throat as she choughed more, but she manadged to do it in an other direction. Even survival had an etiquette, at least when you know that you are out of the woods. She turned away from him to clear the rest of the muckus pulling her leggs up and ending in foster position, panting. Finally, she spoke.
Now was the time for survival romance...*
"Dude... chough... You tottaly owe me... chough... three to one man... I... saved us twice up there once down here... you just manadged this one..."
*She turned towards him with a grinn in that pierced face.*
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Joshua
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Post by Joshua on Apr 29, 2013 13:00:36 GMT -8
A slight tilt of the head, angled left, was all it took for Joshua to dodge the incoming phlegm. Jedi reflexes FTW. It flew past over his shoulder as he sat back on his haunches, leaving Syla to sort herself out. His eyes flickered skywards, narrowed intently as a slight tingle ran through the Force.
He waved a hand patiently as Syla spluttered out words, eyes searching the skyline. They were coming and the smoke rising from LEGO wouuld draw them here like Moths to the flame. He had no idea whether the crazy robotic pilots in orbit had whittled down the numbers of their pursuers. Hell, he'd been that deep into the Force that he had no idea who those defending ships were. Just that they had come to their aid. Or had they? Perhaps they were trying to destroy them too. They were spraying ordinance every-kriffing-where so it had been hard to tell. The week he'd been having he wouldn't be surprised if the Vienna boys choir were trying to perforate him with blaster bolts!
Heaving out a heavy sigh he rose from his crouching position, a wince of pain marring his features, and extended a hand to Syla.
"Yeah yeah. We'll settle up at the end..."
He continued to scan the sky and continued, just as the howl of approaching fighters, punctuated by the occasional clap of a sonic boom, drifted to them from the south.
"We need to get away from here now!"
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Post by Deleted on Apr 29, 2013 13:04:04 GMT -8
On any planet owned by Eralam, frequent crashes, explosions, and other calamities are an unfortunate part of life. This isn't necessarily his fault, mind. Oh sure, he can mess things up with the best of them, but the sort of folks that end up on his planets tend to fall into the category of "the best of them." Therefore, things blow up. Ships crash. Life goes on, except for when it doesn't.
Naturally, this has received mixed reactions from the Dresselians. The younger generation tended to love Eralam and the financial prosperity he brought to the planet with the Market. Under the previous ruler, Dressel had been one hell of a backwater planet, with months in between the arrival of new ships. The older segment of the population, towards the upper 10% in age, frowned upon all the action and adventure and missed the days when life was boring and peaceful. The middle aged folks generally fell somewhere in between the two on the scale of public opinion.
One of the side effects of the constant calamity was an award-winning emergency response system. There wasn't a single spot on Dressel that couldn't be reached within 10 minutes of the initial incident, and most places the wait was far shorter. Such jobs paid well and were popular among thrill seekers. One thing Eralam understood perfectly is that there is not a police, rescue, or military force in the galaxy that can perform its duties if they have to call back to base every five minutes to request permission to do this or that, so he made absolutely sure that everyone hired in all three departments were able to think under pressure and possessed the ability to make snap decisions. On top of that, there were a minimum of useless rules and regulations of the variety that plague most civil services, and on an emergency, they took priority above all else.
Because of this, it was only a few minutes that the first responders arrived at the scene. They had actually been en route before the thing ever hit the ground, as the ATC noted that it was set to impact and had a best guess as to where.
As the heavily, heavily modified Lambda-class shuttle hovered over the crash site, 4 Dressellian paramedics fast-roped out of the doors and down to the site, ready to assist as needed. In the event that the inhabitants were overtly hostile, a Shard gunner on the shuttle had control of a wide variety of lethal and less than lethal weaponry at its disposal, ready to incapacitate, or as a last resort kill, the most violent representatives of nearly every known species in the galaxy.
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syla
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Post by syla on Apr 30, 2013 1:46:55 GMT -8
*Queesy and with no hand on balance whatsoever she
manadged to sit up, finnishing the chaughing and smearing what landed on
her hand in the grass beside her. Hearing the words she would NOT
accept in any ways she reacted.*
"Dude! I am not leaving him! He is hurt, lonely, and proppably in standbymode."
*She got to her feet with the elegance of Bambi, and stomped her way back to the cockpit taking a huge breath of air. For a moment, sylas upper half was immersed in the dicipating smoke and when she returned she held her toolbelt and the DC-15 interchangable weaponsistem of awesome slaughter. Donning the belt, still feeling weak in her upper body, tense, she had the mothers instinct in her of a montain lion. That was the only thing driving her on, well, beside the fact that she would be sad if Josh also died...*
"Dude, your ally is the force and mine is huge ammounts of balls. We made it this far together, we will freaking make it togehter, all three of us... eh... and someday we will get your ship back too."
*Under her breath she whispered:*
"Yeah like I will risk my neck for a factory made prop..."
*Syla walked a good twenty meters away from the ship as she added the AP attachment and ammo to her rifle and got down to one knee, scanning the sky. It was surprising how quick the response came, but she wasnt sure if she liked it. She was happy it was not a Bessie, but still, most imperials and Sith governments used the Lambda class as their main way of transportation. She had no idea what leadership Dressel had, and seeing a lambda gave her a fight or flight feeling. She had to think up something on the run or loose LEGO.*
*And she pointed the gun at him, as the lambda landed. A red cross. Red is usually a Sith colour. She had no idea what a cross was in this part of the galaxy... She just wanted to play it safe... well, for LEGO. She got rather confused when unarmed guys with medical bags roped down from the hovering ship above and looked all helpfull like. At that point she realised she was more then happy for their arrival. She needed a good nights sleep and some governmetally accepted and legal medical drug abuse. Was a loooong day. Looking at josh, he seemed to be in that seat too. She just hoped these people were friendly.*
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Joshua
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Post by Joshua on May 3, 2013 16:20:03 GMT -8
He was injured, exasperated and tired. Tired of dodging these interruptions. As Syla went about her initial inspection of LEGO he closed his eyes and immersed himself in the Force for a moment. Things were moving way passed his control, that much he could tell. He guessed that his delay here had cost his friends a much needed warning... unless his message to Dav had got through. The Mando's had struck, or would strike, and he was stuck here with no ship and a half-crazed spacer that may or may not be high.
His eyes snapped open as the rescue craft hove into view, depositing its crew quickly and efficiently. His eyes took in the gunner before sweeping the sky to the south. He could feel aggression and intent. They were coming.
Syla's suggestion met with a sneer, an unusual reaction from Joshua these days.
"What's the point. It'll just delay us more."
He scooped his lightsaber off his belt and glanced around. Tree's to the west offered cover but they were too far to reach before he estimated their antagonist would appear. He contemplated taking the shuttle for a moment but the jump was a bit of a reach even for him. He started moving towards Syla slowly, keeping his eyes on the gunner of the shuttle.
"We need to go, Syla. You have to leave him. He'll be okay."
That he was referring to the ship as a person, as well as the fact he knew she would leave without it, made him scowl in annoyance. The medics appeared to mean no harm but he certainly wasn't going to yield before he knew their allegiance.
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Post by Deleted on May 3, 2013 17:50:55 GMT -8
The lead medic pulled out a portable scanner, one specifically designed to be as nonthreatening as possible to as wide a range of beings as possible.
"I've got two life forms, both humanoid. One possibly a cyborg. Get the parts bag, just in case."
Space crashes were always a little tricky. The occupants were often easily spooked, as they usually crashed as the result of someone shooting at them. The first thing that the first responders always did before attempting a rescue was to announce their intent over a loudspeaker.
"This is Dressel Fire and Rescue. We are here to help. We are not representatives of any law enforcement agency, and you are not in danger of being arrested. Again, we are here to help!"
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syla
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Post by syla on May 4, 2013 7:35:30 GMT -8
*The moment she lowered the weapon and put it on the ground she became aware of how incredibly tired and releaved she is. Her body ached, hands shook and she had been on the run for what now? two, three days? She just sat on her knees and yelled as much as she could (wasnt that loud).*
"And your help is welcome! We wont hurt anybody!"
*She started to slowly crawl over to Josh, and away from the gun. It was then the realisation hit her when she had time to think on anything else but survival.
LEGO is totalled.
Her beloved ship looked like it was really done for this time. Lacked a wing, most of the scanners and other measuring equipment were ripped off by the crash. Actually, the hull of the TIE was tottaly cleaned of anything it might have had on, ranging from bumperstickers to paint coating. The canopy was cracked and the other wing took a beating, was half ripped off that too. And that god damned smoke was coming out still.
She hoped the people of Dressel housed good mech shops because she will need every material known to sentient spicies to be able to rebuild her beloved baby...*
"Dude, Lego is tottaled man... my baby is dieing."
*More like a statement from someone in shock rather then words of sorrow.*
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Corr
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Post by Corr on May 4, 2013 8:18:10 GMT -8
The Mandalorian ships came streaking out of the skies having finally negotiated the delays in orbit. The crazed defenders had caused them myriad problems, costing them the lives of two of their number, but the remaining vessels, joined by a heavily armoured Tra'Kad, had made their way towards the crash site.
Three Bes'uliik starfighters escorted the ungainly looking craft, protecting the Mandalorian troopers inside from any aggression. It didn't take them long to find the crash site, the smoke rising into the sky a beacon upon which they could close. There was still some debate on the comm channels as to the procedure with which the Mando's should be seeking to go about their mission here and their leader, a grizzled veteran of many a campaign, growled threats from his Bessie.
The Jedi fugitives are to be handed over to our custody immediately or this planet will face the full wrath of the Mandalorian Empire...
This was uttered over an open comm as the ships did a flyby over the crash site. They were careful to keep their distance on the first pass and the Tra'Kad drifted to the ground several hundred meters away. The Bessies kept the high ground, circling above the troop ship and looking menacing.
Our troops will reclaim them and we will be on our way. Tehre will be no need for civilian interference.
Faceless troops were soon disembarking the Tra'Kad and making their way cautiously towards the LEGO, weapons raised and at the ready. There were ten of them and they spread out into a loose half-circle before advancing.
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Joshua
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Post by Joshua on May 4, 2013 8:51:14 GMT -8
And there they were...
Joshua's eyes followed the Mando ships as they arced over head, the aggression and anger blazing forth from the pilots and soldiers contained therein. Regret and loss coated the negative emotions and the young Jedi felt a pang of sorrow himself that they had lost friends this day. Enemies or not, the loss of life was always a day of sorrow yet Joshua did not mourn. They had become one with the Force, or in this case the Manda, and that was an event to be celebrated. It was not the death that saddened him but the way in which the darkside could blossom in the hearts of me due to such an occurrence.
It was ignorance that saddened him, he suddenly realised as he looked to Syla, drawn to her by her own grief.
"It'll be alright, Syla..."
The words were quietly spoken yet the strenghth behind them as the Force flowed from him was louder than any shout, suffusing her with hope and patience. His gaze turned back to the landing Tra'Kad, which looked like a flying tank rather than a starship, eyes narrowed intently, and addressed the medics
"I don't think our pursuers are going to let you treat us, friend."
He addressed the medic that had spoken, waving his unlit lightsaber towards where the soldiers were fanning out.
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Post by Deleted on May 4, 2013 15:15:14 GMT -8
The medic smiled at the Jedi. This was not the sort of smile that brought reassurance and comfort to those in pain. This was the smile of a man who knew he could die at any moment and was enjoying every minute of it. He keyed up his loudspeaker.
"To the representatives of the Mandalorian Empire: These individuals will be taken to Breehara for medical treatment. If they have committed crimes against the empire, you are more than welcome to submit a claim through the embassy. Be adivsed: this planet is under the control and protection of Eralam of Tython. If you fire so much as a single blaster bolt without his permission, you will be killed to a man. No quarter will be given. If it is determined that your actions have been officially sanctioned by the Mandalorian Empire, Eralam will retaliate with any and all means necessary."
That speech was one of a few contingencies memorized by all medics. Swap out the name of the government with pretty much any other, and it could resolve a lot of problems. Most armed incursions turned around at this point, but it really didn't matter if the Mandalorians did or not. While the one shuttle could inflict serious casualties, the crew had no illusions as to their chances of survival if it dropped in the pot. All they had to do, however, was hold off for a few minutes. The distress beacon was active. Help was on the way.
"Gentlemen," the medic continued, "I would suggest you leave now and let the governments figure this one out. There's no need to start a war, especially not one against that crazy bastard Eralam. I can promise you that if you don't leave, regardless of what happens to us, your people will come to regret this day."
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syla
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Post by syla on May 5, 2013 5:01:49 GMT -8
"W T fracking F."
*Syla was mad.
She was tired, hurt, and in fear of her beloved creation. Just when she saw the finnishline, just when she really believed this ordeal had an end and she could get some really good painmeds and sleep, the mandalorians showed up.
Again.
Kriff this shit.
Kriff em all. Kriff em to the end, Kriff em till they cant be kriffed anymore.
She grabbed the DC, and using the smoke from lego as a cover she started a sprint for her beloved ship. She had no idea what Josh was doing, she just knew that she could do this all, she was awesome, the destroyer of worlds, champion of Gorgas Crab Shack (ate 34 crabs in one go), admin of sistems, bane of metaldetectors. She got such sudden hit of hope siding with insane rage, he just wanted to go at them with her "bare" hands. Thtere was a voice in her head, siding with the medics words over the comm, a voice highly discouriging her from doing aggression and pain, but that voice was silenced by the sheer smell of LEGO-s smoke.
Getting back to lego she crouched and moved still in cover to its side. The cargo space here, more like the trunk of a car was unhurt, besides some buckles on the hull. She opened it, and got the combat west out. Some fragmantation granades, a smoke granade, extra ammo, chowsticks, canteen of water, batteries, and a gasmask. She donned the gasmask and let the antennas on her head open.
She will hold, and she will destroy.
The lead mandalorian was using his comm. Bad idea.
triangulating his position based on his transmission, she established a connection and set a hacking algorytm to hack the ships firewall. Then, she set up two more. She needed to get it done before the medic and the mando stopped talking because then he might close the comm device. If she manadged to get in, she had a whole myriad of viruses ready to fill his sistems, and one in perticular.
She was going to infect the target finder of the mandalorians missiles, fire all of them, and let them fly towards that ugly flying fortress. Hows that for a distraction?
Hope and anger. Mix for the presently brave and soon to be dead.*
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Corr
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Post by Corr on May 5, 2013 7:26:49 GMT -8
The lead Mando snorted a quick laugh as he held up his hand in a fist. The ten warriors stopped around fifteen meters away, still formed in a loose half-circle, weapons trained and ready. Their visors negated the smoke in which the girl had attempted to hide herself, her heat signature revealing her easily, making any attempt at cover moot, and blaster still remained zero'ed in on her position.
The leader tilted his head toward the medic who spoke, finding it a bit ridiculous that this backwater planet would offer them any resistance should they push their hand.
Are you kidding, cyar'ika? Your boss would pit this puny world against the might of Mandayaim over two pathetic Jedi?
Still, with the attack on the Jedi underway it was unlikely that his superiors would want another front on which to wage war. Not that these clowns would know they were commit elsewhere. Any delay here would suffice in delaying any warning though so perhaps he should play this carefully for a moment.
Perhaps you should call your boss and find out whether you really want a war with Mandalore, yes?
His visored gaze found Joshua.
What about you, Jedi? Care to come quietly and spare this world our wrath? Not very Jedi-like putting using innocents as a shield for your crimes.
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2013 11:54:50 GMT -8
I'd really appreciate it if you didn't call my world puny.
The voice that crackled over the commlinks was masculine, mechanical, and carried more than a hint of madness. In other words, it was Eralam. Any distress beacon automatically contacts the head robot, and the head robot had the option to contact back.
You come to my planet, have a goddamn shootout in orbit, and now you want to threaten us with the "might" of the Mandalorian Empire. Listen closely, chucklefuck, because I'm only going to say this once: get lost. If you harm my medics or their patients, I will personally Base Delta Zero that entire quadrant if that's what it'll take to send you and your little cronies to hell. The Mandalorian Empire has a stake in the market. They aren't going to care much if little old you gets turned into stray atoms on the wind.
For those not familiar with the term "Base Delta Zero," it refers to the process of using sustained turbolaser fire or similar destructive methods to render a planet or an area of a planet lifeless. The crash was in an uninhabited portion of the planet, so Eralam had no qualms what so ever about turning the whole area into a smoking crater of fused glass.
The lead medic, his death's head grin gleaming in the fading light, turned to the leader of the Mandalorians one last time.
"Still wanna try for these guys?"
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Corr
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Post by Corr on May 5, 2013 14:08:43 GMT -8
The Mandalorians stared at the medics and the medics stared right back. An impasse it seemed. The madness in the voice from the comm left little doubt that the threat was real and, though none of the vode would hesitate to put their lives on the line, there was actually little to be gained by forcing the issue. The leader of the squad chewed his lip behind his visor, a frown of annoyance marring his brow as he weighed up his options. With the Jedi's ship all but destroyed there was no chance that they could effectively warn Yavin of an attack, especially of an attack that was likely already underway. No. It would be better to play it safe for now and try work an opportunity later on to reclaim their prize. After all, there was a bounty on this Jedi aside from the usual reward of gaining recognition by Mand'alor Ashrah. Five hundred kay, was it? He couldn't quite recall if it was that much, but was sure there was at least one on the Solo kid of around that figure...
With a glance sideways, and a muttered word over their closed comm, the troopers began to fall back to the Tra'Kad. Nodding his head to the lead medic the leader shouldered his rifle.
Very well, aruetti. We will let you see to your duty.
He raised his voice a little, hoping that it would carry to whatever comm device the leader of this planet was listening in on.
But be assured we will be waiting her for you to see sense. There is little to be gained in making Mandalore an enemy of your world, especially over two Jedi criminals. It was them that brought combat to your homes. Them that sought to cause strife between our two peoples. It is them you should look upon with distrust and accusation.
He began to walk backwards towards the flying tank, as its engines warmed up prior to take off. The Bessies circled like hungry vultures overhead, irked at the feast that was being robbed from them this day.
The visor turned towards the Jedi, faceless mask managing to look menacing.
This isn't then end, Jetti. One day you turn around, I'll be there.
With that he turned and jogged up the ramp which closed behind him. The Tra'Kad rose ponderously into the air and, flanked once again by the Bes'uliik, disappeared over the horizon.
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2013 15:14:16 GMT -8
Now that the bucketheads were gone, the medics approached the two survivors of the crash. An initial scan showed mostly superficial injuries, but some things wouldn't show up on the handheld scanner. They would both need a more thorough examination and probably a spell in a bacta tank to boot.
"Alright, let's get you two out of here before they change their minds. We'll get you to a hospital ASAP. I've never met Eralam personally, but I imagine that he'll want to know why the Mandalorians were willing to go to war over you folks."
Now that the LZ was clear, the shuttle dropped the last ten meters or so to the ground. The pilot was ready to bug out as soon as the patients were loaded.
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syla
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Post by syla on May 8, 2013 12:55:23 GMT -8
*The moment she realised the Mandalorians will be pulling back she quit every hacking program she had ran at the lead mandos comm. She DID want a war. It was a logical decision on her part. They hurt her baby, they hurt the people she cared for, and they were planning on hurting the WRONG people. The jedi took to their lifes goal to protect everyone and anyone by the rules of justice and peace. So it felt more then right and just if the jedi were to be attacked, everyone else should stand up and protect the protectors.
It was a naive idea, but she loved it. Being all real and near earth all her life (while trying to escape reality through recreational medication) the notion of something so fablelike as a knight with shining sword protecting the weak against the wicked was what she really needed and wanted. It was the idea she had fell in love with, it was the idea wich for she accepted this mission, and any other mission. She had become an idealist in her later years, it was one of the reasons she was trying to become a better person.
A jedi.
And this is the reason she felt bad for what she was about to do. She was about to bring war on a planet wich had none of it. Even if she felt it would be just to bring Dressel into the war by destroying a Trakad, and thus angering the mandalorians against dressel and bringing them into the fold. She did not think. For a moment, she did not mind the death of thousands or millions from a war between the Dresselians and mandalorians, and she decided to keep this wrongdoing silent while they are on dressel.
The mandalorians were not the only ones seeing through smoke. She was watching them as they came closer. She saw that she was aimed at too, and she was ready to defend herself against blasterbolts, and return fire with the armourpiercing round from the DC. She wated for them to leave before she walked out of the now slowly dieing smoke. Removing the gasmask to seem a bit friendlier (just a bit, she was still a pierced pale faced punk with dark shades under her eyes) she shouldered the gun by its strap and waved for the medics as she started towards them.*
"Hey guys, I am Syla Ulfsdottir, and I dont have health insurance."
*A cyberpunk with antennas out of her head and one red eye in studded leather jacket and pants walked up and used that line. I can immagine the shock.*
"And I am ready for you to do all the kinds of lab experiments you just wanna, as soon as you can assure me you guys can barge my ship into a mech shop.
Yes.
I am serious.
No, it didnt look a lot nice before it crashed."
*She answered all their questions about the smoking ruin behind her without them asking it... and then added the one thing she kinda forgot..*
"And... thanks for the help. If there is anything I can do, I will to repay your protection."
*She meant it.*
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Joshua
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Posts: 30
Affiliation: Jedi Praxeum of Yavin IV
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Post by Joshua on May 10, 2013 14:00:00 GMT -8
Joshua started towards the shuttle, allowing two of the medics to approach and support him on either side. His shoulder burned from the blaster wound, his ribs stabbed painfully into his side, and his breath whistled shrilly as he sucked in through gritted teeth. The last forty eight hours had taken their toll he thought wryly, noticing for the first time that he was limping from an injury he had no recollection of receiving.
He continued on, the medics guiding him like some invalid towards the ramp, turning his head to the right to take in Syla.
"It'll be alright, Syla..."
The Mando's wouldn't give up that easily but, with them stranded here, they had in effect neutralised them. The stirrings coming to him through the Force smacked of action and intent. Something was happening out their, the oppressive weight of war and turmoil staining the edges of his vision red. His head swam and his breath came in gasps, nothing to do with his physical injuries.
"I'm sure these people have some sort of recovery service..."
He glanced at the nearest medic, eyes tired and old beyond his years.
"Right?"
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Corr Vhett - puts the "Laughter" in "Manslaughter".....