Private After the Fyerra

[Trextan Voidstalker]

TREXTAN

Choli Vyn

Trextan sat in the Sunfire's hold as the civilians started to push past. It had been a squeeze.

The ramp was down against the deck of a Republic medical frigate and orderlies were already herding the civilians off in a ragged line. They were calling for stretchers and scanners. One of them thanked him as she passed. He lifted a hand and immediately regretted it.

Two medics broke from the flow and made straight for him.

"Sir, you need to stay seated," the first said, pulling a kit from her belt. "Head and flank. How long have you been bleeding?"

"Since Thyferra spat us out. Er..." He tried for humor and managed only a thin breath. He realised he couldn't think how long it was been. That wasn't a good sign.

Blood had dried in his hair, though it still ran warm down his side where the blast had caught him. The chair beneath him was one of the cargo seats.

He could hear Choli up there in the cockpit shutting systems down. The ship ticked as it cooled.

"Don't put me under," he said as they cut his jacket away from the wound. "Not until I see my cremate."

"Oh no sir, we're going to keep you wide away for now," the first medic said. They knelt down before him and studied his face and response.

The second medic pressed a pad to his temple and another to his ribs. Pain flared, bright and clean. Trextan let it wash over him. He had managed to crawl up the ramp, he could sit through this.

He looked toward the ladder again, waiting for soot-stained boots on the rungs.

"Secure his weapons," someone said.

Trextan glanced up to see a marine hovering over him. For a moment he thought to argue. His temper flared up. Fortunately, this was not his first time suffering head trauma and he recognised it. He stayed still as his blasters were carefully taken away. They were only protecting their medics.

 

[Choli Vyn]

Interacting with: Trextan Voidstalker
Armor- x x x x x | Gear x x x x x x x | Weapons x x x x x

The Sunfire gave one last tired shudder as Choli shut down the engines with a low whine and final shudder. For several seconds, she remained in the pilot's chair staring through the viewport at the Republic medical frigate beyond, her heart hammering in her chest, beads of sweat trailing over her grimy face, forcing herself to work through the adrenaline rush she knew was gonna crash later.

They had made it.

While she had lived through this dozens of times before as a Rogue and Wraith pilot, it had been years since such a high level of intensity in flying had made her blood pump so fast and skyrocketed her stress markers. Well, not including their latest brush with the Knights of Ren and those who had been responsible for her previous POW state.

After a few minutes, Choli climbed out of her chair and the cockpit, soot-stained boots descending the ladder into the hold. Her braid was half undone, grime streaked across her face, and exhaustion had settled deep into every bone.

She had to find Trextan. There was a chrous of voices as she moved and weaved until she finally saw Trextan. The utter relief washed over her as much as the immediate sense of concern reared its head back.

"Chit." she cursed, crossing the hold toward him as her gaze fell to the blood along his side before flicking toward the medics working around him.

"How bad?" Only then did those color-shifting eyes settle upon Trextan.

"You look terrible." A joke really, for the need to make some sort of humor of the situation rose, watching how his long unruly curls had stuck and flopped along his temple and ears in caked blood where he had been injured. She moved closer to get a good look at him.

"Well, more than normal. But I am glad you are alive. " It was easier to tease him than acknowledge just how frightened she had been watching him disappear beneath that explosion. She crouched down beside him, reaching carefully for his hand. They were together. That was the point.

"You did some rather crazy hijinks out there."

 

[Trextan Voidstalker]

Choli Vyn

Choli emerged with braid starting to unravel. He knew what she looked like when she was pretending her heart was not in her throat. The joke came first.

"I have been told," he said.

The medic at his flank pressed a fresh pad against the tear in his side and he sucked air through his teeth. Blood had already soaked the first dressing. It was warm and tacky under the jacket they had cut away.

The second medic worked at his temple with a wipe that smelled of antiseptic and cheap soap. The cut there was shallow. It just looked dramatic because head wounds always did, and because his hair had decided to glue itself to the blood.

He let Choli take his hand. His fingers closed around hers too tightly at first. He eased off when he realised. The cybernetic hand stayed in his lap.

"Not elegant," he said. "The others were in the open. It could have been a shooting gallery."

He looked at her properly then. The colours were shifting through her eyes faster than he could recognise.

"You flew us out," he said. "And I'm alright."

The medic taped the pad down and muttered something about bacta and a proper scan. Trextan looked up at her, floppy hair was plastered in place.

"I'm alright," he repeated again, trying to sound more confident. "And the ship held."

"You look terrible too," he said. He managed to smile.