First Reply A Friend In Need

[Amos]

“My scars are sacred. My tattoos are scripture. My hate is written on my flesh for all to see. I hide nothing. I apologize for nothing.”
-Darth Krayt​

????- Unknown Station

Pain.

Pain was a reprieve. A path away from the memories. A way to ignore the galaxy and everything it had brought him. A road away from her. Something to be enjoyed. Something to praise. Something to take onto himself. Anguish was a balm all it's own. The salve which kept him moving forward, what allowed him the next step and the one after that. It had been this way since he'd made his choice.

Now, that truth never seemed more real.

Fingers clutched at his side, blood dripping over his palm as he stumbled forward.

His other hand crashed against the heavy durasteel plate upon the wall. Dragging as he stumbled forward and caught himself. A hiss pulled through his teeth as he marked the pain radiating from his side, drawing on the force to keep walking forward. The tunnel ahead seemed almost endless, the durasteel walls pinned in place by rivets so ancient their makers had been long forgotten.

He'd forgotten how he'd got here. Forgotten how he'd received the wound in his side.

All he remembered was pain.

Sweet pain.

 

[Ives]

That was...did someone hiss in pain?

Ives tossed his cigarette and clipped his tool-kit to his belt. Smoke trailed from his mouth as he turned the corner.

Up ahead, a man was leaning heavily against the corridor walls, struggling to keep himself upright. He stumbled forward, clutching at his side, and left a trail of blood following in his wake.

Instinct told Ives to leave this one be. The light was dimmer where that man was, as though his presence scared it away.

But Ives couldn't just leave someone to bleed out. He'd taken up a code of ethics--in another life--and despite his best efforts, he had a hard time leaving it behind. It was always easy to talk himself out of any misgivings with a medical emergency on his hands.

Ives hurried down the corridor to catch up to the man.

"Hey, wait up, you're bleeding. I can help," Ives called out.

Amos

 

[Amos]

Amos' vision swam as he continued to stumble forward. A trail of blood was left on the wall where he held himself up, the lines of crimson adding an odd decoration atop the graffiti already painted into place.

The voice behind him was barely heard, calling from some distant shore that could never reach.

He tried to call upon the Darkside of the Force. Tried to cloak himself within the shroud of pain and anger which usually kept him safe. It should have flooded his system, should have wrapped itself around him like a blanket and kept him upright. A warm balm in the winters night; yet all he felt was a distant echo.

Panic struck him. A feeling he'd not felt for decades. The rush of fear nearly overwhelming as he felt his legs give out from beneath him. A loud thud echoing out in the hall as he pathetically crashed onto the ground. The trail of blood on the wall flowing to follow as his head turned to finally fall on the figure in the distance.

"Wh-he-" Amos tried to speak, but found his tongue choked by blood or bile, he wasn't sure which.

He spat the crimson mixture onto his chest, the brackish liquid more syrup than blood.

 

[Ives]

The stranger collapsed, and Ives broke into a sprint. He'd pulled a stimpack from his jacket by the time he dropped to slide the final meter. He placed the stim against the man's chest and pulled the injector release. A bright-blue cocktail of bacta and stimulants disappeared into tissue beneath skin. It would begin the process of mending flesh within moments, and keep the stranger awake, if not lucid.

"Stay with me," Ives urged.

Ives spared a brief thought to mourn the dose he'd just wasted. Proper bacta had become hard to come by since the attack on Thyferra. But in the state the stranger was in? He needed every advantage to pull through.

Ives dropped his medkit--a satchel-sized collection of pilfered medical supplies--to the floor and unfurled it. He wiped sweat and grime from his hands with antiseptic cloth, and moved to inspect the worst of the stranger's injuries.

Amos