Private Breath Between Stone

[Lumiya Dara]

The canyon did not welcome them. Instead it loomed; vast and indifferent, it's jagged walls rising like the ribs of some ancient, long-dead beast. Wind moved through it in uneven currents, not constant but pulsing; like breath drawn and released by something unseen. Dust whispered along the stone, catching in the fractured remains of the transport where it had carved its way down into the depths.

The descent had not been natural. Lumiya became aware of that before she became aware of anything else. Not through sight. Not through sound. But through absence. Consciousness returned to her in measured increments: controlled and deliberate. Pain followed, distant and catalogued rather than felt. The sharp edge of it dulled beneath discipline, filed neatly into something manageable, something irrelevant. She did not move immediately. Instead, she listened.

The transport groaned around her, it's ruined frame settling in slow, reluctant shifts. Somewhere nearby, a system sparked; irregular and unstable. Beyond that, the wind....though even that seemed inconsistent. It rose, then fell, not with any natural rhythm that she could place.

Her eyes fluttered open. Smoke drifted through the fractured interior, thin and wavering, pulled toward the broken hull where light bled in from above. The angle of it told her enough. They were deep - far deeper than any controlled descent would have allowed.

Memory soon followed. A stable flight. Clear trajectory. No external interference. And then - A pause. Not in the engines. But in the Force. The recollection settled into place with quiet precision. The pilot had faltered - yes. Slumped forward, life slipping without warning. But that alone did not account for the way the moment had felt. The subtle disruption. The absence where there should have been presence. As though something had….withdrawn.

Or been taken.

Lumiya exhaled slowly, her breath steady despite the lingering haze. Now, she moved. Metal protested softly as she shifted, extricating herself from the contorted remnants of her surroundings. Each motion was efficient, economical and untouched by panic. There was no place for it here. Only assessment. Only control.

Beyond the fractured hull, the canyon stretched in both directions. It was endless, uneven, and exposed. No immediate path upward. No clear signal of rescue. Isolation, then. But not emptiness.

Her gaze lifted slightly, not searching the wreckage now; but the space beyond it. The unseen. The intangible. That same absence lingered at the edges of her awareness. It was faint. Elusive. And wrong.

For a moment, she stilled completely. Then, almost imperceptibly she reached for it.
Somewhere within the shattered transport, a faint sound broke the stillness. Movement.

Survivors...

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Vorr'kath. The Iridonian word bubbled to the surface of Xuko's consciousness a few moments after the unpleasant sensation first registered on his senses.

Xuko was no stranger to pain- the various scars on different parts of his body spoke to his resilience- but usually he had some say in the matter; some failure that led to a wound and with it, a lesson. The crash he'd just survived offered no such lessons, other than reminding him that in a contest of ship vs. ground, the ground always wins. Groaning softly, Xuko unbuckled himself from his seat and staggered towards the cockpit to give the pilot a piece of his mind. Nothing major was broken, as far as he could tell, but he was bleeding badly from a gash on his forehead and his ribs protested whenever he breathed too deeply.

Although he could vouch for it personally, his trip offered more evidence that this crash had been a particularly brutal one. Just as well that there'd been the prompt to buckle in for atmospheric reentry and landing prior to the crash. Twisted metal, the severe angle of the ship, and occasional showers of sparks from destroyed systems greeted him as he navigated the crashed transport.

Xuko didn't encounter any others on his way to the cockpit, but that was hardly surprising. The Zabrak wasn't entirely certain how many had been on board. Himself, the pilot, and... maybe others? He'd been one of the first onboard the transport and had spent most of the trip either meditating or practicing saber cadences in one of the back cargo holds. Even if he had come across other survivors, Xuko knew that he wouldn't be in a position to help them. Healing was not something that he was proficient in.

Having finally made it to the cockpit, Xuko found the pilot slumped over in his chair. A quick check for a pulse confirmed what Xuko suspected; the pilot was dead. So much for telling him off. But as he was turning to leave the cockpit, the Zabrak's eyes zeroed in on the reason for the pilot's demise; a small hole, perhaps a centimeter in diameter, burned through the viewport and roughly equal with the pilot's chair.

A blaster bolt.

Some pieces fell into place even as more questions arose. The ship, a few dozen miles away from its destination and presumably in safe territory, wouldn't have had its defense shields activated. And because it was a transport, it was not designed to defend against high-powered weaponry such as the sniper rifle that had pierced the cockpit. And if someone had been furnished with the transport's flight plan...

What Xuko didn't know was who was after the contents of this transport, or why. The Zabrak certainly hadn't been made aware of any precious cargo, but then again, not all precious cargo was material goods. That, at least, lent credence to the idea that there were others besides him and the pilot on the transport. It also lent a sense of urgency to Xuko's search as he realized that whomever had downed the transport was likely headed this way; either to steal the cargo...

....or to find their target and finish the job, if needed.

Slipping slightly on the sloped steel of the ship, Xuko found his way to an exit, his hopes sinking as their predicament became clearer. First he heard the low murmur of voices mixed with sobs of shock as a small group of survivors clustered around a young woman about his age who seemed to be functioning as a healer. A healer was good. Their current location was not.

"We need to move" Xuko said, glancing around the group of survivors before finally resting his eyes on the healer. "Can everyone walk?"

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The sound of approaching movement drew her attention before his voice did. It was not abrupt. Nor panicked. But measured. Deliberate enough to belong to someone still in control of themselves. Lumiya’s focus shifted from the unseen to the immediate, her awareness narrowing as the figure emerged through the fractured interior. His presence altered the space; not forcefully, but distinctly. Where the others had gathered in uncertainty, he moved with purpose.

And he was bleeding.

Her gaze caught it without meaning to; the line of red at his brow, too stark against skin, too fresh to ignore. The reaction was immediate. Subtle, but real all the same. A tightening in her chest. A faint pull of dizziness that threatened at the edges of her awareness before she steadied it, drawing in a slow, controlled breath. Not now.

Her hand moved before she had quite decided to act, fingers slipping into her medical kit and retrieving a small bandage that was both simple and practical. The motion was quiet. Automatic. She stepped forward only to falter immediately. Not physically. But in thought. The others. Her gaze flickered past him again; to the injured, the ones who had not risen, the ones who could not. The bandage remained in her hand. Unplaced.

His words settled. We need to move. The instinct to answer did not come. Not immediately. Instead, her gaze lowered briefly - to the bandage she still held - before lifting again, returning to him with a quiet, searching uncertainty. “They can’t all walk.” It was not a refusal. Nor an agreement. It was just truth. A small pause followed, her gaze flickering once more toward the group gathered behind her. “There are fractures,” she continued, softer now, more precise. “Shock. Internal injuries that we can’t see yet.”

Her fingers tightened slightly around the bandage, the edges crumpling faintly under the pressure. Moving them would help. But moving them could also make things worse. Another breath was carefully taken. “If we move too quickly…” she added, the words trailing just slightly before she steadied them, “…we may lose more than we save.” Her eyes lowered again just for a moment before lifting, this time with something quieter in them. Something closer to apology than doubt. “I don’t know where we are yet,” Lumiya admitted. “Or what’s coming.” A pause before she continued softer with: “But I can’t leave them like this.”

Only then did her hand shift slightly, the bandage still there, as though she had not yet decided whether to offer it or keep it for someone who might need it more.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Fractures? Internal injuries? Xuko was confident that his current state had been described fairly accurately, and yet here he was; upright and moving. Despite the healer's words, Xuko decided to push the matter- partly to gauge the healer's backbone, and partly to determine if this was a case of the other passengers don't want to move or they truly can't move.

That said, he didn't want to make this a public argument, especially in front of the other survivors. Seeing an opportunity in the half-committed bandage, Xuko wordlessly gestured towards his head wound and walked a few paces away from the others, waiting until Lumiya joined him before beginning. The wound itself wasn't bothering him, but at least they had the appearance of privacy for a quick conversation.

"I'll tell you what's coming" he said, his voice low and steady. He wasn't threatening her, just sharing his guess. If she was to make the best decision for her patients then she needed all the information. "The same people who killed the pilot and caused us to crash. They're after something- or someone- on this transport." A pause to let that sink in. "It is a choice of trying to save some rather than none. Are you sure that they cannot be moved?"

Two hasty plans were beginning to form in Xuko's mind; if they could move, then they'd seek out a cave or other shelter within the canyon, as far away as they could get from the wreckage. If travel was not an option, then they'd have to hole up within the wreckage of the transport and make a stand there.

Neither option was particularly tempting.

"My name is Xuko, by the way."

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

She followed when he gestured. Not immediately; but without resistance. The bandage remained in her hand as she stepped away from the others, her awareness splitting in two: one part present with him, the other still tethered to the injured behind her. The distance did not feel like separation. Only responsibility stretched thinner.

When he spoke, she listened. Fully. Her gaze did not waver from him, though it softened. Not in ease, but in understanding as his words settled into place. Someone had done this. It was not accident. It was not failure of the transport itself. It was intent.

Her fingers tightened slightly around the bandage. Trying to save some rather than none. The phrasing lingered. It was not wrong. But not complete. “They can move,” Lumiya said at last, her voice quiet, but steadier now. “Some of them.” A small pause followed. “Others can’t. Not without making it worse.”

Her eyes lowered briefly - not in avoidance, but in thought - before lifting again, more focused now. “If we force them to keep up, we’ll lose them,” she continued. “Not later. But on the way.” The words came more easily now; not because she was certain, but because she understood what was at stake.

Her hand shifted slightly, and this time she did not hesitate. She stepped closer; but just enough, and reached up, the bandage finally finding it's purpose as she pressed it gently, and carefully, against the wound at his brow. Her touch was light. Efficient. Grounded in something steadier than the moment around them. “You’re right,” Lumiya said softly as she worked. “We don’t have time to stay here.”

A thoughtful breath was taken before she continued “But we don’t have time to lose them either.” She withdrew her hand, though her gaze lingered a moment longer, as if confirming the bandage would hold. “We move the ones who can,” she said, quieter now, but clearer. “And we make it possible for the others to survive until we can move them too.” A pause. Not with uncertainty, but with consideration. “There’s cover in the wreckage,” Lumiya added. “And shade along the canyon walls. It’s not enough, but it’s something.”

Only then did she step back slightly, the space between them returning; but changed now. Less uncertain. Yet still fragile. “My name is Lumiya,” she said, almost as an afterthought; but not an unimportant one.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko pursed his lips in thought as he processed what Lumiya had told him. Due to the injuries of some of the other survivors, they were truly at the mercy of whomever was coming to finish the job. Splitting further- between the ones who could move and the ones who couldn't- wouldn't solve that problem, nor was waiting for rescue an option. Having crashed inside a canyon, they would be difficult to find for all but those who knew where to start looking. Presumably their absence would be noticed eventually, but how long before a search party could be mustered?

The Zabrak came to a decision; the best, he thought, of several bad options. "There is still some safety in the wreck of the ship" he said, agreeing with her assessment. It would provide adequate cover, as well as shelter from small arms fire. Its corridors would limit entry, while the canyon itself served as a natural chokepoint limiting larger vehicles. Perhaps the cargo that they'd been carrying might have some utility. Food, water, or even medicinal supplies... but then again, it just as easily could be action figures.. "Best to keep the survivors sheltered there, where I can try to defend them." The singular "I" was not a boast, or a self-glorifying statement; for all he knew, he was the only trained fighter onboard, as well as the only one to possess a weapon.

Xuko nodded his thanks as she finished up bandaging him. "Thank you, Lumiya" he said, before his ears pricked up; the distant whine of speeders echoing down the canyon.

"Zhaqexik." Xuko swore in his native tongue, already striding towards the direction from where the speeders would appear in a minute or two. "We have company."

Despite his aches, part of him welcomed the possibility of imminent conflict. It might help burn off some of his frustration surroudning their present circumstances...

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The sound reached her a heartbeat after it reached him. Faint at first. Then unmistakable. Lumiya’s breath stilled. Not in fear, but in recognition. They were not alone.

Her gaze shifted; not toward the sound, but back toward the wreckage behind her. Toward the others. Toward what would be left unguarded if she hesitated. Xuko was already moving. Of course he was. Her instinct, both brief and fragile pulled toward him. Toward the direction of the approaching threat. Toward the part of her that knew she should be afraid of what he was walking into.

But she didn’t follow. She couldn’t. “…be careful,” Lumiya said softly; not loud enough to stop him, not strong enough to command it. Just enough that the words existed between them before he moved too far to hear them.

Then she turned fully. The shift was small, but complete. The wreckage loomed ahead of her once more, no longer aftermath; but shelter. Fragile. Incomplete. But all they had. “We need to move,” she called; not loudly, but with a clarity that carried further than her voice usually did. Not panic. Not force. But something steadier. “Those who can stand; come with me.”

She did not wait to see if they obeyed. Instead, she moved into the wreckage again, her presence becoming the anchor they could follow rather than the voice that demanded it. “Stay low,” she added, softer now, as she reached the nearest of the injured. “Use the walls. Don’t spread out.” Her hands moved as she spoke; checking, guiding, helping one to their feet, steadying another who faltered under their own weight.

The canyon answered in the distance. The rising whine of engines grew sharper, louder - no longer a question of if, but when. Then they appeared. Two speeders first, cutting through the narrow spine of the canyon with aggressive precision, engines snarling against the stone as they banked low. Dust and sand tore up in their wake, obscuring the path behind them. A third followed more slowly.

Deliberate. Watching. Figures clad in mismatched armor and hardened gear rode them. Not soldiers in formation, but something looser. Opportunistic. Armed. Hunting. One of them raised a hand, signaling as the lead speeder slowed, circling once before angling toward the wreck. They knew exactly where to look.

Back within the broken hull, Lumiya felt the shift in the air more than she saw it. Time was narrowing. Space was shrinking. Her hands paused only once; just long enough to steady her breath as the weight of it pressed in. Then she continued. “They’re here,” she said quietly; not to alarm them, but because truth, in her mind, was kinder than false comfort. Her gaze lifted briefly; toward the direction Xuko had gone. Then back to the people in front of her. “They won’t reach you first.” It was not certainty. Not quite. But something that she chose to believe.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

"Be careful." Xuko didn't visibly acknowledge the words as he walked out to confront the approaching speeders, but Lumiya's reminder would prove fateful. Behind him, Xuko could sense the frightened, hushed movements of the injured passengers as Lumiya worked to get them into safer positions.

He could also sense an inclement battle, and his blood began to stir in him. Working through a quick breathing exercise- helping calm feelings of both excitement and fear- Xuko assessed the situation. He wanted this over with as quickly as possible, but it wouldn't do to take unnecessary risks.

Lumiya had told him to be careful.

Three speeders in total navigated the canyon floor, each with an armed figure navigating them. Xuko took in their hodgepodge armor and variety of weapons; if they were military, they weren't currently serving.

For his part, Xuko betrayed no hint that he was a Jedi. His right hand, clasping his lightsaber, was pressed against his torso as though injured, and it didn't take any acting skill to let the discomfort he was feeling show in his posture. All the same, the speeders approached warily before coming to a halt some 20 meters away. Two humans and a Rodian, with the more muscular of the two humans appearing to be the one in charge.

Alarm bells went off in Xuko's brain; something wasn't right about this. The three pirates were approaching as if to parlay, when Xuko was doing his best to make this look like the most inviting 3v1 he could. It was as if they wanted him to stand out here and talk with them. It wasn't until he realized that the pirates had approached from the rear of the downed transport that the reason for the pirate's calculated approach dawned on him. The pirates had been furnished with more information than just the flight plan, judging by the way they were treating him.

And the sniper was still unaccounted for.

Another trap Xuko thought, feeling completely outmaneuvered. And whether or not I am their ultimate target, I have played right into their hands. He could practically picture the setup; three pirates down in the canyon would approach, drawing out the lone Jedi guarding the ship while the sniper, taking a position from the lip of the canyon, moved the crosshairs of their scope over his head...

A single pebble tumbled down the side of the canyon, its sound all but lost to the universe but its significance not lost on Xuko. Without thinking the Zabrak threw himself to the left in a desperate dive as the sound of a high-powered sniper rifle rent the canyon air...

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The sound did not belong to the speeders. It cut through everything else. Cleaner, sharper, and wrong in a way that her body understood before her mind could name it.

Lumiya flinched. Not from fear. But from recognition. Her gaze snapped upward toward the canyon walls, not the ground below. Too high. Too distant. The realization settled all at once. “They’re above us,” she said, the words quieter than the moment demanded; but clearer than anything she had spoken before. No hesitation followed. “Down,” Lumiya urged, moving immediately, her hand finding the nearest shoulder and guiding them lower against the interior frame. “Closer to the inner hull. Stay beneath the metal.” Her voice did not rise. But it carried.

The survivors responded; not out of discipline, but because something in her tone had changed. The softness remained. The uncertainty did not.

Another sharp crack echoed through the canyon. Closer this time.

Lumiya’s breath tightened as her gaze flickered toward the opening of the wreck; toward the space Xuko had moved into only moments before. For a fraction of a second....she almost moved toward it. The instinct surged fast and unguarded. Then stopped.

Her fingers curled slightly, grounding herself against it. He had chosen his place. This was hers.

“Stay with me,” she murmured; not just to them, but to herself as well, as she shifted further inward, pulling the group toward the thicker sections of the wreckage where the metal might hold against a glancing shot. Her hands moved quickly now; no longer just tending, but positioning. Turning bodies. Lowering profiles. Keeping them from clustering where a single shot could do the most harm. “Keep your heads down,” she added softly. “Don’t look out. Just stay low.”

The canyon answered again; rifle fire echoing against stone, the sound fracturing and multiplying until direction became difficult to track.

Lumiya forced herself not to follow it. Not to look for him. Instead, she focused on the space immediately around her. On breath. On movement. On the fragile, human rhythm that still existed in the middle of it all. “They won’t reach you first,” she repeated, quieter now. Not because she knew it was true. But because someone needed to.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko's desperate dive temporarily thwarted the lethal ambush, but the sniper's bolt still impacted his right thigh. Xuko landed painfully behind a pile of small boulders, grasping at his newest injury and rolling out of the way of another shot from above.

Now on his back and staring upwards, Xuko could now see the sniper silhouetted against the sky as they leaned over the edge of the canyon to finish him off. Still grasping his lightsaber, Xuko ignited it as the sniper fired again. The brilliant blue blade sprang to life just in time to redirect the sniper's bolt back into their chest; and with a cry the sniper's lifeless body tumbled into the canyon a moment after their weapon.

For a moment, everything was silent except for Xuko's heart pounding in his chest. Then, the canyon lit up with laserfire as the three pirates on the ground began blasting away at the rocks where Xuko hid. Small rocks and shrapnel showered him as the Zabrak desperately tried to think of a plan. He was pinned in place, with the pirates moving in; laying down covering fire as they advanced to finish him off

Gritting his teeth against the pain blossoming in his right thigh, Xuko hauled himself to a half crouch, half-kneel. He gripped his lightsaber, preparing to sell his life dearly...

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The silence didn’t last. It broke under the weight of returning fire. Lumiya felt it before she fully understood it; the shift from a single, distant threat to something closer. Sustained. Focused. Closing in.

Her breath caught. Not from the sound. But from what it meant. He was still alive. But he wouldn’t be for long if nothing changed. For a fraction of a second, her attention pulled outward again; toward the canyon mouth, toward the direction of the fighting.Toward him.

Her hand stilled where it rested against the shoulder of one of the injured. Go. The thought came fast. Unsteady. And wrong. Her fingers tightened slightly, then released. No. Not like that. Lumiya exhaled slowly, forcing the instinct down; not to ignore it, but to reshape it into something she could use.

Her gaze shifted instead to the structure around them. The fractured interior, the angles of the hull, the narrow points of entry where the metal still held thickest. “They’re moving in,” she said quietly, her voice threading through the group. It was not alarmed, but precise. “We can’t stay where we are.”

She moved immediately. Not toward the fight, but deeper into the wreck. “There,” she guided, motioning toward a tighter corridor formed by collapsed bulkhead plating. “One at a time. Stay low. Use the frame.” Her hands worked as she spoke; lifting, steadying, repositioning, her touch gentle, but no longer hesitant. She didn’t wait for them to decide. She placed them where they needed to be. “Closer together,” she added softly. “Not in the open.”

Another burst of blaster fire echoed through the canyon. Closer. Her jaw tightened just slightly. Then she reached for something she did not often use this way. Not outward. Not forceful. But quiet. Subtle. The Force answered her not as power; but as awareness. A thread. A presence that was both fractured and strained, but still there. Her eyes closed briefly as she followed it. “…hold on,” she whispered. Not to the people beside her. To him.

Her hand lifted slightly, fingers trembling; not from fear, but from the effort of reaching without fully knowing how far she could go. Not to move anything. Not to fight. Just to steady. To push something fragile and unseen toward him. Not strength. Not command. But clarity and focus. The kind that kept hands from shaking. The kind that bought seconds.

Her breath faltered. Then steadied again. Her eyes opened. “Stay down,” Lumiya murmured to the survivors, her voice returning to them even as part of her attention remained stretched thin. “Don’t move unless I tell you.” Another breath was taken before she added quieter still: “…please be careful.”

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Not here. Not now. Not this way.

Xuko felt an unpleasant emotion welling up inside of him as the pirates approached; fear. There was nowhere- and no way- to run, and only a few seconds more before the pirates would get a clear line of sight on him. From then it would only be a matter of time before their weight of fire brought him down for good.

Maybe he would be lucky and one of their shots would find a critical spot early, and he would be dead before he hit the ground. Maybe he'd take a dozen more wounds to succumb, prolonging a painful affair...

Xuko grit his teeth, pushing the morbid thoughts away as a new emotion flooded in to join his fear; anger.

Not here. Not now.

Not.

This.

Way.

At that moment, the larger of the two humans- the leader- and the Rodian came into sight a few meters away, aiming smoking blasters in his direction. Xuko let loose a guttural cry, extending his hand and pushing out with the Force; not at the pirates, but at the sandy floor of the canyon. Both of the pirates, momentarily blinded by the sudden wave of swirling sand, staggered back while scrubbing furiously at their eyes.

Xuko hobbled forward as fast as he could to take advantage of the opening, which ended up not being very fast. The human managed to clear their eyes first and, seeing the Zabrak's determined charge, decided to withdraw. The sound of boots pounding on the canyon floor heralded his retreat back towards where the speeders were parked.

The Rodian, on the other hand, was not so lucky. Its bulbous eyes, sans the protection offered by their riding goggles, were ill-suited for the onslaught of fine sand; and as a result the alien was still flat-footed when Xuko got to within lightsaber range. With a cry of anger, pain, and triumph, Xuko lunged with his lightsaber, and a moment later the Rodian's lifeless body dropped to the ground. Breathing heavily from the effort, Xuko swung his head in the direction that the human had gone, just in time to see the dust trail rise as they piloted their speeder in retreat.

Two accounted for Xuko thought to himself. But where is the third? The smaller of the two humans was nowhere to be seen, and their speeder was still parked nearby. A cold certainty settled in Xuko's stomach; a different kind of fear.

The third pirate had gone to complete the mission- ensuring the death of one of the passengers- and was nowhere to be seen.

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The shift came like a fracture in the current she was holding. Not loud. Not obvious. But wrong. Lumiya felt it the same way she had felt him before; threaded, strained, but present. And then something changed. The pressure outside surged; first sharp, then chaotic and then split. One force receded. Another….moved. Not away. Towards them.

Her breath caught. This time, she didn’t close her eyes. She didn’t need to. “…someone’s coming,” she said quietly, the words landing with a clarity that cut through the fear gathering in the space around them. Her gaze lifted - not to the canyon, not to the fight - but to the fractured openings of the wreck itself. To the places where metal had failed. Where something could enter. “Stay down,” she added immediately, softer, but firmer than before. “Don’t move. Don’t speak.”

Her hands moved again, faster now; but not rushed. She adjusted their positions; pulling one further behind a support strut, lowering another closer to the sand, guiding them out of the most direct lines of sight. No wasted motion. No hesitation. But this time she didn’t retreat with them.

When the last of them were as concealed as she could manage, Lumiya stilled. Just for a moment. Her fingers hovered near her side near the place where her lightsaber rested. She didn’t reach for it. But she didn’t ignore it either. Her breath came slower now. Measured. Intentional. The fear was still there. It hadn’t gone anywhere. But it no longer dictated where she stood.

Lumiya stepped forward instead. Not far. Just enough to place herself between the survivors and the opening. Her posture remained small. Unassuming. But it no longer withdrew. It held. Her attention narrowed, senses stretching; not outward in panic, but inward, gathering what little clarity she could maintain. “…please don’t come any closer,” she murmured under her breath. Not a command. Not yet. But no longer just a hope.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko's pursuit of the final pirate into the wreckage of the ship was not at all stealthy or particularly fast. The Zabrak stumbled along, leaning heavily against walls or any other support he could find for his injured leg; forcing himself to withstand the pain even as his body rebelled against him.

More than once his leg buckled underneath him, and more than once he made it back to his feet; sometimes crawling, sometimes hopping. As he made his way deeper into the wreck of the ship, Xuko kept his ears open for sounds of combat, hoping against hope that he'd reach the pirate before the pirate reached whomever their target was.

White-hot anger spiked through Xuko as a barrage of blasterfire reached his ears; clearly he had been too slow, and now the helpless passengers, such as Lumiya the healer, had paid the price. Letting out a string of curses in his native Iridonian, Xuko forged on toward, redoubling his efforts as anger flowed through him. The all-too-sudden silence that had fallen over the ship seemingly indicated that the mercenary's bloody work was done...


Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The silence didn’t settle cleanly. It arrived in pieces; after the blasterfire, after the echoes had finished tearing themselves apart against the canyon walls, after the last sound of struggle had simply….stopped.

Lumiya stood where she had taken her place. She had not advanced. She had not fled. But she had moved. Only enough.

The narrow corridor beyond the fractured opening bore the marks of what had just occurred; scoring along the metal, the sharp scent of discharged energy still lingering in the air. A body lay crumpled further within, armor scorched, weapon fallen just out of reach where it had slipped from lifeless fingers. Not the survivors. Not one of hers.

Lumiya’s hand remained wrapped loosely around the hilt at her side. The lightsaber had been drawn, but not ignited. Not used. It rested there still, angled slightly downward, as though even now she was uncertain whether it even belonged in her hand at all.

A few steps beyond the fallen attacker, another figure remained. Breathing. Shaken, but upright. The would-be quarry. Lumiya’s gaze lingered on them only briefly; long enough to confirm what mattered most. Alive. Then it shifted again, returning to the space between them and the others hidden deeper within the wreck. Holding that line. Her shoulders rose with a slow breath, then fell again just as carefully.

When Xuko finally reached the opening, the scene would not match what he had expected. There was no massacre waiting for him. No scattered bodies. No helpless dead. Just stillness.

And her.

Lumiya turned her head slightly at the sound of his approach. It was subtle, but enough to acknowledge him without breaking what she was holding together. There was no relief in her expression. Not yet. Only a quiet steadiness that had been hard-won. “…they’re safe,” she said softly. Her voice carried, but only just. Meant for him. Not for the others.

A pause followed, her gaze flickering briefly toward the fallen pirate before returning to Xuko. “He didn’t reach them.” Not I stopped him. Not I fought. Just the truth, as she understood it. Her grip on the hilt loosened slightly, though she did not put it away. Not yet.

Behind her, the survivors remained where she had placed them; hidden, breathing, waiting. And for the first time since the fighting began, nothing moved.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko arrived a few seconds later, scouring the room for the pirate that he expected to have brutally murdered the civilians hiding within the ship. Instead, he found Lumyia; very much alive and very much holding a lightsaber.

"That would have been nice to know earlier" he said, a slight nod indicating the weapon she carried. Even so, he thought, he couldn't blame her for concealing that. Perhaps she was the target, or had assumed that he'd known. Whatever the case, the pirate was dead and nobody else was.

Relief, exhaustion, and pain started to rush in to replace the adrenaline and battle fever. Xuko sagged against the closest wall, taking a second look at Lumiya. She was quiet and composed, but out of necessity; putting on the carefully-crafted facade of one who spent too much of their time telling others that everything was going to be okay while knowing full well that it wouldn't be. As a healer, she'd have seen the worst of the worst, and have been asked to fox unsolvable problems. Small wonder Lumiya had only taken up her blade as a last resort; her strengths lay elsewhere. Perhaps she'd even taken a promise to avoid taking a life, and now this would-be assassin had forced her hand...

"Are you all right?" he asked, his voice sounding hollow in the heaviness of the moment. Not all wounds, he'd come to realize, were physical.

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

The words reached her, and for a moment, she didn’t understand them. Not fully. Her gaze dropped just slightly to the hilt still resting in her hand, as though seeing it the way he did for the first time. There was no defensiveness in the look. No attempt to explain. Only a quiet recognition. “I didn’t…” she began softly, then stopped. The sentence didn’t need finishing.

Her fingers loosened around the hilt, and this time she did let it fall back to her side. Not discarded, but no longer held in readiness. Just carried again. As it had always been.

Her attention lifted back to him. Xuko didn’t look steady. The shift in him was immediate and unmistakable now that the moment had passed; the way his weight leaned too heavily into the wall, the way the strength that had carried him forward was no longer being forced to hold. Lumiya stepped toward him without thinking. Not quickly. Not abruptly. But without hesitation. “You’re hurt,” she said quietly, the words settling with more certainty than anything she had said since he arrived. Not a question. Not concern alone. But recognition.

Her hand lifted - careful, giving him time to refuse if he needed to - but when no resistance came, she closed the remaining distance. Her touch was light as it found his arm first, steadying rather than restraining, before her attention shifted lower, toward the injury she could already sense in the way he held himself.

Only then did his question reach her. Are you all right? Lumiya paused. Not because she didn’t hear him. But because she did. Her hands stilled for just a fraction of a second where they hovered near his side, her breath catching; not sharply, not dramatically, but enough that the answer didn’t come immediately. Her gaze lowered, not to avoid him, but to find something solid to anchor to. Something real. “They’re alive,” she said softly. It wasn’t an answer. Not exactly. But it was the truth she could hold onto.

A small breath followed. Then another. Her hands resumed their movement, more deliberate now as she began to assess the wound at his leg, careful and practiced despite the faint tremor that lingered beneath the surface. “…and you’re still here,” she added, quieter still. This time, it came closer. Not as certainty. But something she was choosing to believe. Her touch steadied as she worked; checking, adjusting, preparing to treat what he had pushed through for their sake. The fear hadn’t vanished. The weight of what had almost happened still lingered just beneath her composure. But it no longer stopped her hands. “…I’m going to help you,” Lumiya murmured, her voice returning fully to its familiar, gentle cadence. “Just stay still for me.” And this time she didn’t falter.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko eased his way down the wall so that he was sitting, grunting softly in relief as he reached the floor and allowed his muscles to fully relax as Lumiya examined his wound. He would thank her in due time for tending to him a second time, but the Zabrak was initially more focused on listening to his fellow Jedi.

Sometimes what someone didn't say was more telling than what they did.

Still, Xuko took a moment to ponder what she did say. Lumiya's response had centered around the survivors and him; not herself. Her answer wasn't a deflection as much as it was a refocusing, similar to her near-immediate transition back to Healing Mode, that indicated that the action she'd taken in weighed heavily on her. In the moment it was as if she'd changed back into a comfortable set of robes, having found a different outfit not to her liking.

Xuko could relate, although he was now the one trying on different robes- trying to talk about feelings after a battle. Part of him wanted to be satisfied with her redirection, but he was also asking out of a sense of necessity; should the mercenary leader come back with reinforcements, he needed to know to what extent he could count on Lumiya to pick up her blade again.

Xuko reached out and gently took both of Lumiya's hands, pausing her work on the wound in his leg. "You did not answer the question" he said. There was no accusation in his tone; just an invitation to answer again if she wished.

Lumiya Dara

 

[Lumiya Dara]

Lumiya’s hands stilled beneath his. Not pulled away. Not resisted. Just….paused. And for a brief moment, she didn’t look at him. Her gaze remained lowered, resting somewhere between them; as though the space itself offered something steadier than the weight of the question. His touch was not forceful. It didn’t demand. That, more than anything, was what made it difficult to move past.

Her breath came in quietly, then left her just as slowly. “…I know,” she said softly. The admission was gentle. Not defensive. Not avoiding. Just honest.

Only then did her gaze lift, meeting his properly this time. There was no façade in it now; no careful shaping of reassurance for someone else’s sake. Just the quiet truth of where she stood within the moment. “I’m not hurt,” Lumiya continued, her voice calm, but softer than before. “Not like this.” Her eyes flickered briefly toward his leg, then back again; anchoring the distinction without needing to say more. A small pause followed to allow for a soft exhale. “I’m….unsettled,” she admitted. The word came without ornament. No attempt to soften it or hide it behind something more composed. It simply was. Her fingers shifted slightly within his hold, not to pull away; but to rest there more naturally, as though accepting the stillness he had given her.

“I don’t like needing it,” she added, quieter now. Her gaze dipped just slightly; not in shame, but in reflection. “The blade.” A breath followed, steadier this time. “But I understand why it was there.” Her eyes lifted again, meeting his with something clearer now. Not certainty. But acceptance. “And I will use it,” she said softly. Not as a declaration of strength. Not as defiance. Just truth. “If it means that they stay alive.”

For a moment, nothing else moved. Then, gently, she eased her hands from his; not pulling away from him, but returning them to where they were needed. One settled again near his leg, the other reaching for her kit. “They need us to be steady,” Lumiya murmured, her voice slipping back into that familiar, grounding cadence; but something of what she had just said remained within it. “All of them.” Her touch resumed; both careful and precise, as she began properly tending the wound he had fought through. “And so do you,” she added quietly, almost as an afterthought; though her attention did not waver from her work.

Tag: Xuko Pagoi

 

[Xuko Pagoi]

Xuko's respect for Lumiya grew as she voiced her feelings as best she could. No deflection, and no attempt at bravado- just honesty, or at least as much as she dared to share in the moment. Briefly. the Zabrak wondered if he shouldn't be feeling more conflicted about having taken two lives just now, but the logic he now employed with Lumiya quashed any guilt he might have felt.

"It was him or you" Xuko said, giving Lumyia her hands back. "Even though it may not have been easy, you did what was needed to protect yourself and the others." He needed her to understand that, both for her conscience and also so that she didn't hesitate the next time a similar situation presented itself. Second-guessing got you hurt, or killed.

Xuko lapsed into silence as Lumiya resumed her work on his wound, waiting until her signal to move again. To his surprise, his leg bore weight quite well, even if some discomfort remained. He was beginning to suspect that Lumiya's skill as a healer extended beyond bandages; it was as if he'd had a couple days to heal instead of a couple minutes. "Thank you" he said, hoping that the gratitude in his tone would make up for other words he could have said in addition.

The time she'd spent fixing him up had given Xuko time to think; but even so, he hesitated to voice his thoughts. However, pragmatism finally won out as he decided to share them with his fellow Jedi. "There may be more on the way" he said, explaining how the apparent leader had fled. The problem they faced was twofold; one, the injuries sustained by some of the other passengers made them sitting ducks. And two, except for their attackers nobody knew they were here. Xuko did not know much about communications, but being inside a canyon like this probably blocked signals from any personal devices. "We will need to send out a distress signal and communicate our location somehow."

Serious brown eyes fixed his found Lumiya's. "Do you have any ideas?" He had one, but it very much felt like a Plan B. Or even Plan C.

Lumiya Dara