|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jul 25, 2017 20:40:12 GMT -8
Na'an hit the stones hard, a lump of helpless flesh now only bound by the clothes it wore. She rolled, gagged, coughed shallowly against the loosening grip on her windpipe, sensible of only the slow trickle or air into her lungs, of oxygen into her blood. Dimly, she heard the muffled thump of more flesh against stone, but could not place it. All she could focus on was air--dear gods, air! Even without Rutil's power at her throat, It had been years since she'd pushed herself this far. How long had Babylon been on before the overdose this time? Ten minutes? More? She'd never been able to do more than eight and a half before her lungs would---
Na'an gagged again, furiously willing herself to breathe. It couldn't be that bad, could it? It was in her head, she knew; Leigh had explained it after the first time. Too much adrenaline did funny things to the brain. If she could only focus, calm down enough to get a proper breath...her head seemed to be splitting along the seam where her ear used to be. She reached up to feel along the side of her head, and her hand came away wet and sticky. It hurt, but the hurt was muffled, miles beneath everything else.
It didn't matter. She'd deal with it later. For now, she had to breathe. How did it work again? Someone had told her, once. Leigh? Adelle? ...Master? That couldn't be right, could it? Master would never have known about Babylon...She decided that didn't matter now, either. What mattered was the process.
What was the process again...
....
Focus. Take a deep breath.
In.
Out.
Feel the lungs fill, slowly. Will them to accept it.
Accept what has happened to you. Accept that it will hurt. Hurt more than anything.
It hurts because you're alive.
And if you're alive, then you can breathe.
In.
And out again.
Feel the lungs again, deeper this time. Force your chest to expand.
Ignore the tightness in your throat.
Do not listen to your body screaming that it can't breathe.
Your body is nothing. It is just a tool.
If fights. It kills. It survives.
And if it wants to keep surviving, it obeys orders.
In.
Out, forcefully.
This isn't even the first time you've been hurt. And it likely won't be the last.
Or the worst.
No one will do this for you. You have to save yourself. You chose this. So accept the consequences.
Accept them and breathe.
In.
Out.
In.
...
Na'an did not count the time until her body started to breathe without being told to do so--shallowly, and not without pain, but that was the least she could ask for at the moment. She sat up, her good eye half-closed against the migraine already well underway. In time, she stood, although her balance was...unsteady. The exertion of walking seemed to make her bones ache, so she did not go far. Only a few feet. Her opponent--her teacher--her friend--Rutil was lying in a heap on the far end of the courtyard. His face, illuminated by the blue light of his saber, looked almost purple against the setting sun. He made no sound; indeed, there seemed to be no sound anywhere but the faint electrical hum of plasma. His eyes, tinted green by the same blue light, were already starting to glaze over in death. Standing over him, Na'an thought that this thing barely looked like the Rutil Iorek she knew, discolored and still as the stones beneath him. He looked like a stone, himself. But he wasn't a stone. He wasn't even Rutil Iorek, anymore. What Rutil was, whatever he had been in the end, that was gone into that place that right now Na'an couldn't even feel. This was a corpse, lying in the garden. A nothing. A broken tool. A sack of empty flesh.
Na'an bent slowly over the body, an old woman's movement full of rust. The sound the saber made when she deactivated it was oddly wet, a thick sizzle like hot durasteel dipped in blood, and it left a hole that she could only briefly regard. The hilt was warm in her hand, her fingers fitting easily into the grooves left by decades of victories, and she slid it into her belt with only a little fumbling--an accomplishment, given her shaking hands. She then turned her back on the body and tottered away. In this condition, it would take her longer to get back to the Medical Center than it took to get here.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jun 21, 2017 18:00:50 GMT -8
Na'an's body, once propelled by the unnatural power holding her in its grip, jolted to a stop only feet from her teacher's saber. She rattled in place briefly, as if hitting low wall that wasn't there, then twisted wildly as she realized where Rutil had actually clamped down.
She couldn't breathe. She couldn't breathe, dear gods she couldn't breathe, this wasn't just the effects of Babylon anymore she couldn't breathe. Her body had been lifted by the throat, toes just barely scraping the earth, an invisible hand closing around her windpipe in a way that was strangely, terribly familiar... She could feel pressure building like heat, like a fire behind her eyes, her implant spinning crazily in an attempt to identify the threat, dilating fully to catch the light....
Oh, gods, she'd been here before, the light, so much fire and light...where was she? She couldn't breathe, dear gods, where was she, where was the enemy, where was the air, she couldn't breathe, where had the years gone? Had she dreamed it all, in a slowly dying mind being starved of air in the wilds of Tattooine? Who was killing her--the Zabrak, or the machine?
Did it matter? She was dying either way. Dying in fire and light.
Except...there was something beeping. Dying didn't beep.
Attention: due to detected oxygen shortage, Babylon protocols can no longer be sustained. Deactivating adrenal stimulation in 3...2...1...
No. No, she remembered this part. That voice. Her implant.
Leigh.
Leigh was waiting. She was protecting Adelle and...Aherk, and waiting. Leigh had asked her not to die.
It didn't matter who was killing her. She couldn't die here. Not when Leigh was waiting.
No no no no no no NO!
Na'an let her arms relax to her sides, and for only a moment she hung suspended by the power at her throat. She scrabbled for the last vestiges of power Babylon still gave, those massive arms of Force, forcing herself to believe that they really had existed, that they were more than just some dying wish for life. And there they were, sure as anything--huge and waiting, only just starting to dwindle now that the adrenaline was gone. She didn't plan an attack; she just flailed outwards with those arms, letting her mind grab onto the first things she felt, then flung EVERYTHING at her attacker in one wild swing.
In her greying vision, she saw the world seemingly ripping itself apart in response.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 24, 2017 18:12:23 GMT -8
Na'an saw it too--a flash of silver to her right, nestled in a stand of brightly-colored fungus. Rutil's lightsaber must have been flung loose when she had hurled him as far as she had. It had landed between the two of them; if they both ran for it, she'd reach it first, or else reach her teacher before he could attack. He wouldn't be able to put up a counter in time. The panic lancing out of him through the Force told her as much. Rutil Iorek was no longer in control of this fight, and he would not have control of it again.
She sucked in a breath, the air as thick as syrup in her throat, and the sensation caught her momentarily by surprise. How long had it been since she had activated Babylon? How long? In this state it was sometimes hard to tell--each second seemed to extend outwards for years. It wasn't painful, either; merely strange, like something that should be painful felt only through a shroud. But if breathing felt like this already...then she couldn't stay like this for much longer.
This fight had to end.
Na'an inhaled a little deeper, ignoring the discomfort, and rocketed for Rutil's saber, her shoto already alight. She would destroy it--or him--in a single swipe.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on May 23, 2017 18:52:06 GMT -8
"Terminate current processes. New protocols are as follows--"
Leigh's voice showed no emotion; if anything, the slight digital edge it carried sharpened. The Centre's computer has not responded with a name; only a status report of the current protocols. If this was an AI, then, it was an exceedingly limited one, only capable of intelligence where the designated task was concerned. And the current designated task was the death of her partner, with no other considerations.
Unacceptable.
There was no negotiating with such a simple program. Reprogramming would be simpler, and far less damaging to key intelligence. She put her hand to the console, internally composing a script to render the Strategy Centre neutralized and inaccessible to the remaining cultists---and then her comlink connection beeped.
Something must have have happened on the Med Center Side...and Adelle and her patient were her responsibility. Leigh's plans altered themselves in a microsecond to reflect the new command, shuffling through options that would still allow her to neutralize the threat to Na'an quickly. Her hand lifted from the console, replaced by the tip of her cannon, which whirred slightly as she changed the weapon's settings. The tip glowed blue, humming as she charged the high-density laser. "If you live," she said as the charge completed itself. "Make your case for your survival. You have five seconds."
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Apr 17, 2017 15:50:44 GMT -8
Na'an stopped, skidding several inches and pivoting as Rutil arced over her head. Both of her eyes--one a pinpoint of light, the other a grey as sharp as silver--met his as he came down, and there was no thought in them. Only feeling. Only the now, as it stretched out into space and time. She could see what he was planning: He'd use his superior weight and the Force to bear downwards until she or her shoto broke. He'd grasp for power, reaching into the dark place that had set his Jedi heart to burning, and use it to contend directly against Babylon.
His saber was a superior weapon compared to hers--in a prolonged lock, the shoto would fail first. But Rutil Iorek still thought that he was stronger in the Force...and he still thought that he'd seen every trick she knew.
Her saber arm rose to block the coming blow, but with her free hand she could feel that strange, near-infinite arm of the Force scraping and scratching against the earth, feeling every inch of sky. She flexed it and thrust upwards, sending it to meet Rutil, and found herself absurdly wondering what it would feel like to hold his body in her hand.
Or to Throw it.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Apr 17, 2017 15:28:07 GMT -8
She did not top typing, or visibly acknowledge the voice at first. Inwardly, though, the remainder of Leigh's protocols rapidly split their attention between two wildly different, but equally unexpected phenomena--the explosion, and the sudden announcement that the Strategy Centre knew her name.
The explosion was not large enough to cause structural damage to the chamber she was currently in, or the Medical Center where Adelle was locking down, but was still troubling. The map she had uploaded indicated that sound seemed to originate several levels up, near the opening of the Archives. This was the troubling part--Jedi Archives held data, rather than anything that could cause a detonation of that size. Had Iorek found something in there worth weaponizing? A task force would likely be deployed to this location after she and her partner had left it-- if not to neutralize the radicals Iorek had gathered around himself, then surely to recover what little data would be left undestroyed. Leigh flagged this conclusion to be acted on later, most likely from orbit.
The voice, however, was more immediate. Leigh had spent some time in this Temple before it had been abandoned--the jungles of Yavin IV, after all, were where she and Na'an had first met. It was possible that the Masters had left some residual data concerning her before they had left this place behind, some kind of incident report with basic specs, but by no means would a mere report be sufficient to enable the Strategy Center computers to identify her. She had no fingerprints or organic signatures to trigger an automatic welcome, and no serial number to register her as property of a Jedi. The system should have identified her merely as an unknown user. This reasoning was only true, however, if the system was the same as it was when Leigh had interfaced with it in the past. If the response was unexpected, then the system had been altered somehow. Either Rutil Iorek had provided sufficient data for the Yavin Temple systems to ID her...
Or these were not the normal Yavin Temple systems.
This conclusion had provided a course of action in microseconds. This action did not require her to abandon the ThreatCon Delta that was her first priority. It only required her to speak.
"Hello. Overview core systems, if you please. Identify current operating protocols."
After all, she reasoned, it was only polite to get the name of someone who knew your own.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Mar 6, 2017 17:53:21 GMT -8
Na'an flowed effortlessly away from where the saber dropped, rolling into the earth behind Rutil without releasing her grip on her shoto. She could feel the deaths of those inside the Temple as well, as sharply as if each one were a needle slipping between layers of skin. Their cries of anger and agony and confusion, all saying different things but sounding so alike despite the words, all leading farther and farther out. A mass of individuals, all with names and stories and homes they would never return to--gone. Like before. And like before, they weren't just dying incidentally, a side effect of the explosion--they were being eradicated, and in huge numbers. It couldn't have been Leigh doing it, or Adelle--there were too many dying, too quickly and too far apart. Something had gone terribly wrong inside the Temple, and her friends were caught inside it just as surely as Rutil's followers. If anyone was going to survive and escape this ruin, this fight had to end.
Rutil had just landed in front of her, and still had yet to adjust for the fact that she was now behind him. From her crouched position, Na'an yanked her arm in and across her body, Pulling and manipulating the weapon easily. The shoto finally shook loose of where it had been buried and rocketed towards them, spinning wildly to smack into her hand. She flicked the activation stud, and the scarlet blade seemed to roar as it sprung to life across her body. The Force coiled in her leg muscles, hot and wild and familiar...
Na'an released the power and sprang, aiming squarely for Rutil's back. Kill him, cripple him, merely make him stop; there would be time to think about that later.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Feb 16, 2017 21:00:30 GMT -8
Leigh no longer needed the map to reach the Strategy Center. Instead, she focused processing power on monitoring the comm frequency she had given to Adelle, and maneuvering in a way that prevented her bulk from attracting too much attention. It would not do to be diverted from initiating the ThreatCon Delta because a few cultists had an idea to stop her themselves. She needn't have worried. As she thundered the hallways, the only cultists she saw were the ones she had already dispatched; the Muun was alive, but incapacitated to the point that she had no doubt he would not be standing for a while. The absence seemed unlikely, due to the disturbance they had already caused. Leigh noted it, considered the probabilities, then decided that for the moment, the lack of cultists was a strategic advantage that needed to be utilized. The mystery of where the cultists were was, at the moment, less of a priority. She stepped over him again into the Center proper, heading for the closest nearby monitor that was not blocked by the KR-04 unit. As she activated the screen, she noted that the droid's presence was not accounted for either by Rutil's activities or Aherk's. Unless there were more units somehow hiding in the Temple, the data was not currently relevant--but worth investigating nonetheless. It meant, at the very least, that Aherk had made more than one KR-04 unit--and that both, barring additional data, had had reason to somehow find them.
The console was designed for organic use, and one with more than a single hand at least. Nevertheless, Leigh began to quickly scan through the console's programs, looking for the trigger that would activate the ThreatCon Delta on Yavin IV.
That was when the explosion went off.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Feb 16, 2017 20:16:15 GMT -8
Na'an had lost all sense of time. The second it took for her to stand felt like minutes--hours--to move through them was to cut through the air with a fluidity rarely present in waking life. Rutil seemed to rush at her in slow motion, the gleam of his eyes now more yellow than even firelight could excuse; the flames behind him moved like strange ghosts. She could feel their heat and his anger, radiating so similarly; she could feel the trees and the fungi, reacting with primitive revulsion; she could feel the pulse of all the life around her as strongly as the pulsing as her own blood.
Deep inside her brain, Babylon had torn down the barriers between her and the Force that was always there, always waiting, right at her fingertips--if only for a time.
Nothing could touch her now.
She moved minimally, not dodging his strike so much as sidestepping it to let to blade pass. It was easier to remember his tells like this, to read them in his body--how his weight shifted for a forward blow, how his foot would pivot before his lightsaber followed its path, how his shoulders tilted to prepare for a thrust. At another time, she might have found herself giggling at the change, at how effortless it was to use memories she could have sworn she'd forgotten, how simple it seemed to dance circles around Rutil Iorek himself, how good it made every cell in her flesh feel...
Beyond them, somewhere in the Temple itself, a boom shook the air and the earth, rattled the courtyard stones. Na'an felt it on her skin, half-turning towards the sound as she dodged a coming strike to see a plume of smoke rise from where the Archives would have been. From inside the building, the lives of strangers were being blown out like candles--some with the explosion, but more and more on their own. "Your flock is dying, Rutil Iorek," she said sadly. "You shouldn't have called me here."
Her arms felt miles long at her sides, huge, as if she could reach out and pluck one of the moon's sister satellites out of the sky. But that was ridiculous; she knew, if dimly, that there were still limits to what she could do like this. Instead, Na'an simply twitched her hand as she dodged again, already feeling the grip of her buried shoto in ghostly non-fingers, and Pulled.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Feb 7, 2017 19:50:04 GMT -8
Na'an had pulled herself to her hands and knees, and was crawling shakily away from the path when Rutil ripped his way through the flaming tree. She'd managed to get half to her feet to speed her way, only to trip, stagger, land halfway against a soft fungal growth. Beyond she could see the wall of the courtyard, a door leading back into the Temple, a few scrubby bushes, a stand of soft fungi that would never support her weight. Behind her, she could feel Rutil looming, framed once again in red light, his face darkly expressionless. Where was her saber? Her good ear was ringing with a strange, discordant tone; her skull still throbbed from the burns that had ruined her other ear. The smell of smoke and burnt meat still clung to the air around her, and Na'an knew with a clarity that highlighted all her former confusion that she wouldn't be able to leave his shadow like this. She'd hesitated. Indeed, she'd never stopped hesitating. She'd been unsure of this fight from the very beginning, because she never wanted to hurt Rutil Iorek. And Rutil had known exactly how to use that to bring her to her knees. She'd been a fool to let Leigh leave her behind.
But no. She hadn't been so foolish, not really. She'd said it back in the corridors--Adelle was the priority. Adelle, and Leigh, and oddly enough Aherk, now. If Na'an died in this garden, there would be few if any left who would mourn her, but Adelle had people to go back to. Leigh had her workshop on Dantooine, and her sister on Felucia, and a mind the galaxy couldn't afford to lose. And Aherk...well, one never knew with Aherk, did they. She'd sent Leigh away to protect them.
"E--" she coughed one more time, finally expelling something thick and black with inhaled smoke. If she couldn't get herself going, couldn't stop Rutil Iork here and now, she'd be responsible. Once and for all, she'd be guilty of something actually meriting death--Adelle's death, and Leigh's, and Aherk's, and whoever else her former teacher murdered once he cut himself loose from this planet. He'd call it justice as he loomed over them too, raising the blade for a killing blow they, at least, did not deserve.
She couldn't let this Zabrak have his justice.
There was only one way to keep him from having it.
She turned to face Rutil, still backing around the growth towards the courtyard. If she couldn't find her weapon, couldn't keep her head clear from his dominance, she'd have to sidestep it entirely. "E...Execute Babylon pr--protocol."
The beep was immediate, the tinny little voice jarringly calm in her head. Babylon protocol executed. Specify duration.
"Fuck duration, just leave it on."
There was a pause. Warning, the little voice said, prolonged hormone elevation may lead to permanent neural damage. It is recommended that a duration of no more than--
"I said leave it on!"
Another pause. For a second Na'an was grateful; Leigh hadn't programmed the damned thing to be argumentative. ...Duration override activated. Activating adrenal stimulation in 3...
Na'an kept moving, even as the countdown started. She needed as much distance as she could get from her teacher before the program went off, and she could already feel he was only steps behind her. She swallowed a yelp as her foot barked against a root, and she found herself once again on her knees.
2...
Rutil had recovered his lightsaber, and was scoring a path through the stones like a boy trailing a stick. The sound of it was loud in her remaining ear, a bright sizzling sound like fireworks on steel. Through the riot of light and shadow on his face, she thought she could see him smiling. He was toying with her, as surely as any full Sith would, which for once was fine. All she needed as a few seconds.
1.
The final wait was agonizing--an eternity of waiting. When the spasm struck, nearly throwing her facefirst into the earth, Na'an welcomed it with something like relief.
In the space between moments, it had finally happened. And the burns did not hurt anymore.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 28, 2017 10:27:05 GMT -8
It happened so fast. One second, Na'an was lunging at Rutil with her shoto, and the next both blades were burning through the tree behind her, their humming blades overhead like a guillotine. The tree was old and dry, nearly dead from neglect, and Rutil had not made a clean cut through the trunk as she had. Fire was already starting to spread from the place the sabers had lodged themselves.
In a moment of terror she felt what her teacher would do just before he did it. The Force flexed around him, strong, stronger than she could have prepared for without drastic measures, and her brace against the trunk broke as the tree started to topple forward. He was aiming to crush her, bury her with the weight and the fire, and if that did not kill her the sabers slicing through the trunk certainly would. Na'an ducked to the side, tried to roll out of the way, but the tree was too large to escape entirely. While the trunk missed her by inches, she was suddenly engulfed in a cloud of branches and leaves as they crashed to the earth. Na'an tried to push her way through, to get some distance between her and her teacher that she felt was just out of sight, already closing in. The fire was, however, faster then either of them, and was already doing its work. If she pushed a limb to the side, it only revealed a net that was already starting to kindle into a blaze; if she ducked to catch her breath she only rose to more smoking leaves; If she took the easy path out she would only be launching herself right into Rutil's grip. Her only way was to get her saber back and cut her way out in the opposite direction. She reached for the saber, tracing the black scar it had left through the trunk and peering through the Force to find the handle. It was so close--she could see Rutil's blue blade even through the fire--she could almost reach it--
Above her, through providence or design, a substantial limb was already burning merrily. The flames had eaten through it quickly, racing from the trunk down its length and setting even the few green leaves it struggled to support ablaze. As Na'an reached out for her saber below, the branch cracked--broke--came swinging down, stopping only when it met flesh-- For a moment all Na'an could smell was smoke--the acrid scent of burning hair--the sickly sweetness of cooking meat--she thrashed wildly, no longer caring about the direction or whether the wail she was hearing was her own--
and then she was loose, rolling away through the grass and swatting at the side of her head in an attempt to untangle herself from the branch that had struck her. She managed to Push it away, but the agony, the stink didn't subside, and the flesh under her hand was raw and sticky feeling. Her ear felt--oh, gods, was that her ear? it felt like it had melted. What had happened to her?
"Ba--" the word caught like bile in her throat, and she coughed violently, trying to force herself to breathe well enough to speak.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 28, 2017 7:31:04 GMT -8
"If Na'an requires assistance, I will know it," Leigh straightened, looming over the man now on the table as she considered the options Adelle had presented. "And I believe you will as well. As it stands my priority is your safety--and his."
She scanned her memory for information on the two codes, noting that both were uncommon in the Jedi lexicon and one only used by those who worked in Medical. Adelle had provided two valid option, but both presented risks. A ThreatCon Delta would create an immediate alert of possible violent action in the area, diverting nearby forces to the Strategy Center rather than to their location. Adelle would be safe to perform any medical procedure she deemed necessary, as well as leave the Center if a threat presented itself, while defense would fall solely to her--as long as the Medical Center stayed off the cultists' radar. There was also the possibility that the signal would be broadcast outside of the Praxeum, alerting possible allies to the situation. On the other hand, a Code Black would lock down the Medical Center in a defensive position under the assumption that it was being threatened. Adelle and Aherk would be equally safe, and Leigh would be there to defend them directly, but the code was explicitly medical--it would alert anyone in the facility to their location, making it difficult at best to leave. If the situation with her partner changed, Leigh would likely be unable to reach her.
Leigh regarded the man on the table for a moment. Aherk was breathing shallowly, the gurgling sound high in his chest indicating critical fluid buildup. In the sterile light of the Medical Center, she could see the grey, clammy tinge of his skin. Adelle was only marginally more healthy--her respiration was equally labored, her body barely standing up under the injuries the droid had inflicted on her. If the cultists arrived armed, the probability that either would be able to defend themselves was miniscule.
"I will go to the Strategy Center," she said finally, "but on a condition. You must keep my comm frequency on hand at all times during your work. If you are threatened, you initiate the Code Black immediately and contact me so that I can extract you."
She did not leave space for disagreement, but went directly to work. A few taps of the comm system detached a small beacon keyed directly to her frequency, which she placed next to Aherk on the medical table. Leigh then checked her live-fire settings, dialing down the power to allow for more rapid fire, and went for the door. "If you do not hear from either of us in an hour, do what you must to escape alone."
The door slid open, then shut behind the droid.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 14, 2017 19:14:40 GMT -8
Na'an had backed against the tree as the Force seemed to recede from her fingertips with every pulse, her heart seeming to hammer at her ribs with increasing urgency. Her teacher, already larger than she by at least half a foot, seemed to loom over her with each word, the power of his anger throbbing around him like an open wound. She tried to block out his voice, his words, but they were inside her, grabbing at the bones of her skull with every accusation.
He understood her so well. He knew how to drag out the worst of her life and throw it in her face, how to expose every part of her soul she had grown to hate. Her weakness of will, her lack of ambition, her submission to her own feelings, her willingness to let evil slide because it would mean accountability...Hell, it could be that the fact that she refused to kill Aherk was just the worst of her faults again, playing at righteousness to mask her own selfishness. Maybe Rutil was right, and her survival was only making the galaxy darker, despite her best effort. Maybe the universe would be better off if Vidalu Na'an died tonight.
Then Rutil Iorek mentioned Adelle. At her name, Na'an reacted without thinking.
"Don't you dare make this about anyone else!" Her saber came up, and she stutter-stepped again into a Makashi maneuver, one hand bracing the loose tree at her back. "You're fighting me--" she blurted, and she leveled the shoto at him, thrusting at his heart...
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 9, 2017 19:58:52 GMT -8
Unlike the organics, Leigh did not waste time in conversing. She had already started forward the second she saw the fight end, her scanner already taking note of Adelle's injuries: dislocated shoulder, crush damage to the chest cavity, a possible skull fracture, multiple minor injuries to one leg. The skull fracture was most alarming, but considering that Adelle was still able to speak and maintain an adequate enough idea of her situation to demand medical attention it was not as severe as it had looked.
The droid kneeled and moved slowly in to cradle the Healer's head against her shoulder joint, easing her to swing one arm over her cannon. The position would not be comfortable, but it also would not exacerbate the shoulder injury. In addition, the sturdy build of the cannon arm would keep Adelle upright as Leigh helped her walk to the Medical Center. She brought up the map again in her internal systems, tracing her path back and around towards the desired sector. Fortunately, it was not far--even encumbered with two organics, Leigh could make it there in minutes. It was with the slightest groan of her joints that she lifted herself to her full height and began the trek.
Almost immediately, she came across a minor problem. A Muun--one of the cultists, judging by the mark on his expansive forehead--must have heard the scuffle between the droid, the Barabel and the Arkanian, and decided to come to their aid. The tall being was wielding a blaster rifle of his own, half-cocked as he goggled at the sight of his compatriots on the ground. "Hey," he said querulously, "What're you--"
Leigh couldn't let the Muun get his bearings. Without either dropping her cargo or slowing her pace, the droid bore down on him until she was close enough to him to reach out and touch her. In an uncharacteristic maneuver, she stepped into his space and thrust her knee upwards and deep into his midsection. The Muun dropped like the sack of flesh that he was, his nose cracking as he landed face-first on the marble floor. Leigh only stopped to readjust her balance, then stepped over him and continued--perhaps a touch faster than would be comfortable for the organices in her care.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 9, 2017 19:25:02 GMT -8
Make JvS Great Again?
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Jan 4, 2017 19:30:27 GMT -8
Na'an was already moving by the time he closed the gap, and his blade met hers in a shower of sparks. In the following flurry of blows, her feet only rarely touched the ground. Instead, she danced in and out of his range at multiple angles, often only missing injury by millimeters. She sidled past his blade, feeling rather than seeing the crackle of ozone as it whipped past her face; a fierce lower strike forced her into a leap, bounding off nearby trunks to change directions; she thrust at his side, only to be deflected and thrust downwards into the dirt. Na'an had only a breath to return to her feet before Rutil was on her again, throwing his entire weight into a stroke she only just managed to block. Their blades locked, and with them her knees, keeping her upright while her entire focus lasered in on keeping them from inching towards her throat.
"You don't..." she said, breathing hard into the lock. "You don't get to preach to me!" The words were bravado--Na'an knew that as well as Rutil did. Her mastery of Ataru was in large part because of him, and while she had the advantage in territory, his knowledge of her was far deeper and more intimate. He was playing with her head, making her sloppy and unsure and uncreative, and he never seemed to tire. She was dodging him by the skin of her teeth like this, and if she didn't make some kind of break from what he'd expect she'd only get more predictable.
What would Leigh do? She'd get some distance, start using different types of shot to corner him. What would Adelle do? There was no way of knowing--Na'an had never seen her fight--but she'd be able to play his mental games better than Na'an could, at least. Both of them would be better suited to fighting her teacher, but they weren't here to save her. She had to save herself again.
At least in that, she had some practice.
She couldn't force the lock to break her way this time; instead, Na'an let her arms loosen as she ducked, his blade passing overhead as she scuttled backwards towards the trees. Once separated, she had the space to change her stance. Her sword hand shifted on the grip into a classic Makashi hold, while her left gripped the pommel of the shoto briefly, feeling the warm pulse of her saber crystal seep into her flesh. It felt like, she realized in an odd moment of clarity, the pounding of her own heart. It was in one of those pulses that a sudden flash of inspiration came, and Na'an spun, slicing deep not into her opponent, but into the trunk of a nearby tree. The rifle fire was a good idea, but too small. This would be far bigger.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Dec 28, 2016 18:35:39 GMT -8
Her teacher was playing dirty. Na'an had to all but stuff her fist in her mouth to keep from making a sound; her face felt too hot, as if she were about to cry. Here he was, hunting her down, looking to hurt her like Aherk had, like the Shans had, like all of them had, and he had the gall to taunt her with it. According to him, it was only a matter of time before she was in this exact same position again: pursued by someone she'd dared to trust. Would it be Leigh next time? Adelle? Who, then? For a moment, Na'an could feel her heart accelerate, already imagining the droid or the woman with their faces twisted with hate, weapons raised, aiming for her head or her heart...
No. No, she couldn't think of that now. Na'an shook her head, trying to clear it and return to the moment. Rutil was the issue now. She had to make sure she survived Rutil before anything else. That meant not responding to his goading--he knew her too well for her to engage on that level, and he'd proven willing to be cruel--and focusing on what was in front of her. The path, the trees, the disabled rifle still sizzling in the opposite tree, and the man reaching out for her through the Force. In moments he would find her, and take the advantage, and she couldn't let him if she hoped to leave the Garden alive.
Before his tendrils of thought could reach her again, she released her focus and yanked hard with the Force. The rifle rustled the needles around it at it came rocketing out of the tree, aiming at Rutil's head. At the same moment, Na'an launched herself from her perch, igniting her shoto to slice branches out of her path and thrust at Rutil from the other side.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Dec 27, 2016 16:06:43 GMT -8
Na'an was desperately trying not to breathe too hard as she watched the Zabrak enter the garden. He had the slow, confident pace she remembered, from all their years in the practice combat; now that their fight was no longer practice, it was easier to see it as the lope of a predator who had never been beaten. Meanwhile, she had adapted the tactics of a prey animal once again--hide and misdirect and make an opening. What, then, did that say about her?
Well, that might be it, if pups could climb trees. She was sitting half-crouched, masked in the needles of one of the thick firs overhanging the path. One fist, shoto in hand, was clutched against her heart, as if willing it not to beat too loudly and give away her positio. The other was stretched out, reaching out carefully for the rifle carefully propped in the tree opposite her. If she closed her eyes, she could feel the trigger as surely as if the weapon were still in her hands. Her eyes fluttered closed, then open again often--there was only so much she could manage when suppressing herself in the Force like this, and she had to make sure she kept an eye on Rutil.
I'm not stalling, she said. I just want to live.
He was getting closer now, still in that measured step that meant he was looking for her rather than directly on the attack. Only five meters more and he would be within range of the blaster...three meters....her hand on her chest slid up, clamping against her mouth until she was almost biting down on her shoto. She couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe, couldn't breathe until he was just a little bit closer. One meter...half a meter...only steps now...
There!
He was almost exactly between the two trees. Na'an squeezed with the Force, and the rifle exploded into a stream of laserfire.
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Dec 22, 2016 19:40:11 GMT -8
Vulgar
|
|
|
Post by Vidalu Na'an on Dec 22, 2016 19:38:55 GMT -8
The sky of Yavin IV was full dark by the time Na'an made it to the Temple Gardens. She skidded out of the corridor and stopped against a tree next to the path, breathing hard from the sprint there. The rapidly-cooling air chased away the sick, metallic smell that had clung to the air inside the Temple. Out here, the Force was still relatively untainted, cool and clean like the air filling her lungs. The Gardens had been slightly overgrown in the time since it had been abandoned; the grass of the maintained areas had grown long and tangled, while the jungle portions had begun to invade even the paths through them. Some kind of mossy ivy had begun to climb the walls, leaving the stones green and slippery where they hadn't begun to fall. The cultists that Rutil had brought into the Temple had clearly not prioritized the place and in its neglect she could finally start to see the age of the place.
Glancing around, Na'an rapidly started to start calculating her next move. She had minutes, maybe, before Rutil found her again. She could already sense him searching for her, trying to pin down where she had went. It was in those few minutes, then, that she had to make a survival plan. An attack plan, to be more precise, but Na'an had barely been able to process her own rebellion against her Master, let alone started to accept it. Survival was all she could manage at the moment, and so she planned how to survive Rutil Iorek.
Rutil had the Temple--the entire Temple, with all its weaponry and technology and knowledge. He had years of experience and inches of height and tens of pounds of weight. He had an army of sorts, any of whom could be coming into the Garden. He had all the knowledge of her that being her teacher could give. And he had--she finally had to admit--the rage that had seemingly, suddenly, tilted him headfirst into the Dark Side.
What did Na'an have? She had her shoto. She had her rifle, strapped to her back. She had Leigh and Adelle somewhere in the Temple, although she could not count on them. She had the time away from him, teaching her tricks he did not know she had. She had the terrain--varied, lots of cover. She had her trump card, if she needed it.
And she had the Force.
It was not much, not against someone like Rutil. But she had won fights for her life with fewer weapons. Na'an took a deep breath, filling her lungs again with the sweet jungle air, then swung her rifle down to rest against her hip. "Help me," she said, almost as a prayer, then reached for a nearby branch and began to climb. She had a move in mind.
|
|