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Snippet #2374272

located in Star Wars, a part of Star Wars: Return of The Force, one of the many universes on RPG.

Star Wars

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: Jehaa Starcross Character Portrait: Katori Atsa Character Portrait: Karkun Kilbaine Character Portrait: Koda'rai
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"J-....Jehaa.......?"

The Vanguard soldier almost didn't hear Atsa's tiny voice, having cracked open the door enough to press a shoulder against it and scan the shattered room beyond.

When she looks back, he isn't moving, and something in her finds that annoying enough that the emotion actually crosses her face in a hardening around the jaws and eyes. Her own storied past had been rather full of bodies, and for a moment she forgot that the little lizard - while he hadn't had a perfect life - had always known this as a safe place, and these people as untouchable.

"This.... this isn't real. I know it. I know it...... We're still in the tree, we have to be... I *sniffle* I-I think Karkun is over that way.... We'll find him and the others. And then we'll get out of here."

She softens with a smile and nods, waving him over to her and - when he does approach - putting a hand on the scaly shoulder in an act of comfort.

"No worries. Just stick close, yeah? We'll get out of this together. This place doesn't know who it's messing with."

And the corporal flashes a cocky grin she didn't particularly feel, but the façade boosted her own morale, and hopefully might do the same for Atsa. She leans into the door fully, moving the massive construction just enough for two slim bodies to slip through. The noise that the huge stone door makes on the ground, without its advanced hydraulics to smooth the process and probably damaged by the battle-that-didn't-really-happen, is a slow, grating scratch. It echoed through the eerily empty temple halls.

Wincing at the noise, Jehaa beckons Atsa to follow quickly, taking off at a fast trot that burns after her recent life-or-death sprint. Many of the dead around them now aren't even Jedi. Her eyes linger on people she knew. People in Vanguard armor, sprawled with holes burned straight through. Some died at their posts, some died in defensive alcoves. Others died in front of Jedi corpses; vainly trying to shield their charges from whatever unstoppable force had done this.

She considers taking a blaster, but they were probably as much illusion as the bodies themselves. They pass the rooms of the Masters on their way out into the main rooms, and it's then that Koda'rai's presence ripples through. The touch on her bare arm makes her turn sharply, ready to fight, or to admonish Atsa for making her start. But it's neither. Just a cold breeze. Unlike the rest of the wind in this damned place, the chill doesn't make her shiver. It was far from familiar, but for whatever reason, she didn't feel it was hostile.

The turn points Jehaa in the direction of a room with its door pried open. Squinting at it, she approaches. Call it morbid curiosity. Call it checking her flanks. Call it the Force. Whatever it is, she looks in. Again, she spots a familiar face attached to a corpse, and grimaces. The soldier almost turns away, before it catches her eye. This corpse was still breathing.

He was hung up on the wall, skewerd there through the shoulders by two long pieces of metal debris. At his feet, the crumpled body of a Master. His father, actually, if Jehaa placed the face right.

"Karkun!!" Atsa knew him all too well.

Jehaa steps into the room quickly, scowling up at the bars that pin the Padawan, "It might be another trick." she warns the lizard, but all the same points at his ankles, "Grab hold, lift him up. Karkun, if you can hear me, this is going to hurt."

When Atsa takes Karkun's weight off the bars, Jehaa reaches over her head to grip one, plants a foot against the wall slick with his blood, and pulls with all her might. If Atsa wants to lend some Force assistance with the second one, that would be great.

When they get him down, Jehaa uses the holes already in his shirt to rip it properly, getting a good look at the gaping wounds. She fingers the rags, judging how much bandage she can make out of them, when Atsa leans foreward and plants his scaly hands right on the wounded padawan.

"What-"

It's like static charges the air around them, and Jehaa jerks back as the wounded flesh on Karkun stitches together in a steady rhythm. She looks up at Atsa, but the padawan's eyes are a million miles away, and in rapt concentration, so she claps her mouth shut and just watches the spectacle. And what a show it is, as the wounds close from the inside out, repairing tendon, muscle, and finally skin like time was on fast foreward.

When it seems like there's nothing left but pale, new skin sealed over the former holes, Atsa wavers and would have fallen right on top of Karkun if Jehaa didn't act to reach foreward and steady him. She wants to make a smart remark. Something about THAT coming in handy, but frankly, the words fail her, and she can only nod.

After he's taken care of best they can, she sighs. Atsa was way too small to carry the bastard, and they couldn't very well leave him here, or expect him to wake up so soon after that kind of blood loss. If he did, he'd still need a steadying shoulder.

Crouching near him, Jehaa leans his torso across her shoulders, crawling back up with sweat beading her forehead into a Fireman's Carry. Even her small size could carry someone heavier for a while.

"Atsa." She grunts, "You're going to have to lead. Make for the main hall. If anyone else is alive in here, that's where they'll head, right?"