[FO] Aftermath

[Darth Carnifex]

"Ah yes, there it is. There is that ferocity I have been led to believe now burns inside of you."

Shadows bubbled out from behind his gown, liquid darkness that coated his naked flesh from his feet up to the nape of his neck and continued to undulate outward like a living organism. Soon the Dark Lord was swaddled in a shroud of lightless night that quickly solidified and took on shape, shrinking in mass until it resembled nothing more than the traditional black robes of the Sith. The room's door, if it was still open, closed shut on its own accord and would not budge no matter how hard anyone tried to pry it loose with their physical strength.

Now it was just the two of them in the same room.

"But I can still feel your fear, it feeds your hatred. In that regard, my dear Doctor, you and I are not so dissimilar."

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Raziel"]

"Let me know when you find the right supply shortage to fill," she said. "I've spent five years buried in a culture of institutionalized inaction that cowers inside the Alliance's shell of self-righteous militancy, and I respect the First Order. I'd happily see the latter benefit at the expense of the former, within reason."

She'd never been one for precise awareness, so far as the Force was concerned, but the spike of primal, shocked, defiant fear had been tough to miss. A Forcer, perhaps, or an untrained potential. It hadn't felt like the existential terror of the wounded. She couldn't guess the reason behind the feeling but it was certainly interesting.

"I think I feel something worth some attention," she said. "Excuse me - or come along if you like."

Off she went, heading for [member="Irajah Ven"] and [member="Darth Carnifex"]. As a significant use of the Force overrode the latter's amulet, she sensed a hint of his old familiar presence. She stretched out her own cold Force signature and quickened her step.

 

[Kuzo]

She had turned her back to him, the sensation of him there, out of sight, making her skin crawl, but she endured. And then the door had closed in her face. Her breath caught in her throat, heart pounding so loudly in her chest that she was certain he could hear it.

Turning back to him just in time to catch his 'transformation,' she curled her hands into fists. The knuckles on her hand turned white, though the cybernetic side did not.

"You're just a walking cliché aren't you?"

The disdain was thick in her voice.

"Your bare ass hanging out of the gown was less embarrassing than how incredibly wrong you are. About me. About anything."

There was a hot fury beneath the words. In that, he wasn't wrong. But there had been that fire already before he had tried to destroy her. It wasn't new, it wasn't anything he could take the credit for. Ferocity, a drive to survive, that she had always held in a part of her core. The only difference now was that it was no longer contained. What he done was hasten the fracturing of those walls, yes. But she would not thank him for that.

She couldn't feel the approach of the others. Not well enough trained yet, and too focused on the very creature that had haunted her nightmares since the day he had broken her body.

"Lay a hand on me and your precious alliance with the First Order is finished, Kaine," it was no idle threat. She had put certain fail safes into place, just in case of a situation such as this. "Open the door. Now."

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Ashin Karrde"] [member="Raziel"]

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He chuckled deep in his throat, "You know that I wouldn't have to lay a hand on you to destroy you, Irajah."

Ultimately, he acquiesced. He hadn't gone through all of this hassle to harm her, that was never his intention. That incident was the catalyst of her rebirth, the breaking of her mold so she could be rebuilt from the ground up into something more appeasing to the Dark.

"And deny it all you want, but ever since you came to Dosuun your life has followed the path we have set for you." He waved his hand and the door opened again, albeit slightly bent and cracking from here it had held strong against its own frame. She was now free to depart whenever she chose, he would not stop her. However; on the other side of the door was a being clad in tattered black medical jacket with a metal mask resembling a crow's beak obscuring its face. The individual gave Irajah the once over glace before muscling past her to enter the room, immediately kneeling before the Dark Lord and bowing its head incredibly low.

"No one can escape fate, Doctor."

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

"You don't have the ability to destroy me, Kaine," she snarled. "And you never will."

Irajah was a fighter- not in the sense of a warrior, but in that she would press herself to her very limits to make that true.

-Wait.

We?

There was still one piece missing from the puzzle of the events that had surrounded her time on Panatha. She still didn't know that [member="Darth Prazutis"] had asked [member="Darth Carnifex"] to do what he had done that night. To physically destroy her, so that she could be rebuilt as Braxus desired. She knew that he had taken advantage of it. But not that it was planned and orchestrated. That connection, that specific intent, was still unknown. That it had not simply been a man who professed to care about her, taking advantage of a situation. But that it had been planned.

A weight, a buzzing in her head a moment before the door creaked open again kept the connection from being made in full in that moment. She grimaced, resisting the urge to pinch the bridge of her nose at the discomfort. What was that? The sensation through the Force was-

She blinked, sidestepped as the masked figure pushed past her. They touched, for an instant, and it was like ice brushing against her. She backed up into the doorway, defensive in a way she hadn't been before, the gut reaction of wrongness in no way similar to anything she had felt before.

Her skin crawled when the figure knelt at his feet. She just didn't know why.

"I don't believe in fate," she growled, backing up into the open doorway now, though she barely noticed she'd done it. "You know nothing of what I will do. I will not do one. Single. Thing. That you wish of me. Ever again. Not only that, but whatever it is you are attempting, I will see it undone. I promise you that"

[member="Raziel"] [member="Ashin Karrde"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Visiting war hospitals was not one of the enumerated duties of the Grand Moff of the First Order. It wasn't written in any handbook or memo that one should. But it was a moral imperative, at least in the eyes of the current occupant of the office. She was lucky to not be in the hospital herself, after her misadventure on Mustafar, but luck seemed to be on her side at the moment. True, her beloved Frontrunner was gone, destroyed in a veritable nova of destruction on the ashflats of Mustafar. And she had taken a walloping, first in the initial crash, then during the battle -- she had gone with the armor-and-stormtrooper regiment that had been cobbled together at the wreck of the Frontrunner to the Mensix Mining Facility. Things had been looking good, but Natasi had been medivac'd following another explosion that had almost certainly given her a concussion.

It was too bad she and [member="Irajah Ven"] had been separated. The Grand Moff could have used her then, although the medical professionals aboard the Concordia were second to none. By the time the Grand Moff's flagship returned to Dosuun, she was feeling better, though with a hideous headache. Word filtered in from Mustafar in pieces and patches -- victories here, defeats there, stalemates and changes of fortune across the planet -- but nothing conclusive. Natasi was as anxious as anyone to hear the outcome, and disappointed as she was that she had been forced to leave the field before the end, she understood that in that state she would have been a liability.

As her speeder stopped at the secured gate to the military hospital, Natasi looked at the stormtroopers manning the gate, and thought back to the armor that she had stored in the corner of her stateroom. It was scorched, stained with soot and cracked. Without it, she'd be dead. She would keep it. But in the meantime, she had changed into a simple officer's uniform, her Grand Moff's rank cylinder and combadge the only adornment. Her hair was pulled back, pinned in a bun, revealing the gash in her forehead and some bruising along one side of her head and face. It would have to do.

When the car stopped, Natasi stepped out of the car and walked inside, returning the salutes given as she entered. She was directed to the wards that held the Mustafar wounded. She was eager to see [member="Pharazon Draken"] again and see how he was doing -- assuming, of course, that he was still alive. The same went for Dr. [member="Irajah Ven"]. But there would be time for that. She walked slowly through the wards, exchanging kind words with the men and women populating the beds. There was very little she could tell them to comfort them, except to say that she and the Supreme Leader would be praying for their recovery. She promised to make sure families knew they were alive, shook hands, and moved along.

She was showed into a large ward and was about halfway down it when Clémence Wallace hurried up and whispered into her ear. Natasi stared at her blankly, as if she hadn't understood clearly, then Clémence pressed a note into her hand. Natasi unfolded it; the note turned out to be a memo from the task force commander of the Mustafar, Barkhesh, and Rutan theaters. She read it once, twice, and a third time:

"Grand Moff Fortan:
Be pleased to inform the Supreme Leader that Galactic Alliance forces are withdrawing from Barkhesh, Mustafar, and Rutan. The First Order flag flies above Mensix and Darth Vader's Castle on Mustafar as well as facilities on Barkhesh and Rutan. Force save the Supreme Leader."

Natasi wanted to run through the halls shouting the news, but she managed to control herself. She shook hands with Clémence and kissed her cheek before returning to the nurse's station, where she was put into the hospital's public announcement system, so that her announcement went across all the rooms. "Ladies and Gentlemen, this is Grand Moff Fortan. I've just arrived back from Mustafar, and I bring with me the following announcement from the task force over-commander: Be pleased to inform the Supreme Leader that Galactic Alliance forces are withdrawing from Barkhesh, Mustafar, and Rutan. The First Order standard flies above Mensix and Darth Vader's castle as well as over facilities on Barkhesh and Rutan. Force save the Supreme Leader. Rest well, soldiers: your efforts -- your sacrifices -- have not been in vain."

 

[Briika Munin]

FO Medical Frigate FIV Halstead​

Somewhere between Mustafar and Dosuun. ​

---​

As the modified S90MAAT decanted to real space after its short hyperspace jump from Mustafar, Briika Tor dared a precious moment to look away from her critical patient. A sigh of relief was uttered from the Mando medic's lips hidden behind her red T-visor as the medevac dropship flying neutral colors banked and made its approach to the hangar of a First Order frigate; a Blackwell-class medical transport. They were lucky the ship had not already made their own jump home.

[Halstead Control, this is Baar'ur One of the Lotus Guard on Medevac Two-Niner. We are coming in hot with one critical. Please have a medical team meet us on deck and surgical standing by. Over.] she advised through her buy'ce's comlink.

The seasoned battle medic began packaging [member="Rolf Amsel"] so that the offload would be as quick as possible. Bree wasn't sure the First Order stormtrooper was going to make it, but here he would at least have a good chance of it now that they had made it to the medical frigate directly some distance away after being diverted from the ground field hospital due to over capacity.

The soldier's white armor and black body glove had been cut away to expose the man's injuries and to allow for interventions and treatment to be made. The unconscious patient probably from a concussion as his helmet was off when found was intubated to protect his airway, and had a chest tube in place to re-inflate the collapsed lung on the right after having to decompress a tension pneumothorax most likely caused from the penetrating trauma to the chest from a blade of some sort slid between the ribs, which now was covered with an occlusive dressing. He also had bits of shrapnel here and there, but nothing life threatening so those wounds were just dressed with bacta patches.

Briika was most worried an artery had been nicked causing a pericardial effusion to develop from the way his vital signs were so labile and him arresting on her twice with ventricular arrhythmias. She had used all the blood products available aboard the ship and topped him off with normal saline through two large bore IV's. The man had been circling the drain as they say in med speak since take off, but he seemed like a fighter or maybe he just had something to fight for that was keeping him in this plane.

After the dropship touched down onto its struts with the engines still idling, the port side cargo bay door slid back and out came the silver-armored Mando medic and a corpsman bringing with them the patient packaged with all its medical gear on a medsled. When the waiting medial team met them along with a security guard detail on the hangar deck, Briika began her report.

[One of your stormtroopers, male, approximately upper twenties, found unconscious in the mining facility on Mustafar with penetrating chest trauma, BP 90 palp, heart rate tacky, 120's... ] Bree announced to the lead doctor in a mechanical voice as she squeezed the ambu bag assisting the patient to breath while walking along side the portable medsled explaining the injuries found and treatments given so far as they headed for the turbolift.

The Tor wasn't so sure the First Order trusted her as the medic's Ripper was taken away by a Storm Guard before stepping into the lift with the medical team. As soon as things got settled, Briika would have to contact her husband, [member="Vilaz Munin"], of her whereabouts. She was sure Mand'alor was getting worried about now where his beloved was since separating from the rest of the Lotus Guard.

 

[Raziel]

[member="Ashin Karrde"]

The alliance was self righteous and morale when it wasn't threatened. Of course Raziel had been spreading his web of information gathering since before the One Sith had started to truly extend their influence across the core. The Alliance infiltrating and bombing Sith facilities seemed a recent memories.

Ashin had turned and moved away. Interesting that her instinct was to get involved. Or was she just heading for a closer look? Raziel's mind moved quickly and he came to the decision that he couldn't resist finding out in a heartbeat.

With his head bowed he turned and followed a good three steps behind the ex-Empress. Dextrous hands stole a blank flimsiplast and clipboard from a table in a flash. People didn't tend to stop you when you walked briskly whilst making notes. In contrast to Ashin his signature demeaned quite hidden.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Irajah Ven"] [member="Raziel"]

"...whatever it is you are attempting, I will see it undone. I promise you that."

Ashin slowed as she came into sight of the unfamiliar voice's owner. A petite brunette doctor, she stood in an open doorway with her back to Ashin. Beyond her stood a gigantic figure, black-robed, part of his face missing. Ashin bared her teeth in a smile, both at the other woman's defiance and at [member="Natasi Fortan"]'s announcement over the hospital intercom.

Without hesitation, she walked up behind the little brunette. "Who's this, Kaine?" she said - her first words to her former vizier in the better part of a decade, and a good five years since she'd spoken to an old associate as herself. Ashin Varanin, after all, had died fighting the One Sith on Lujo, and hadn't been heard from since.

"You're not carrying another one of his by-blows, are you, Doctor?" She eyed [member="Irajah Ven"]'s hips sympathetically. "I hear their birth weight is in the double digits. Royal chunkers, the Zambrano bastards. Weight issues well into middle age."

 

[Darth Carnifex]

He laughed again, "As if you had any choice in the matter."

A woman appeared behind Irajah, and from the familiarity of her words she appeared to be someone that knew him, or had known him, on the first name basis. The face was foreign, but the subtle inflections in her voice and the mannerisms of her speech, such minute details to the average person, gave enough away for Kaine to make an educated guess.

"A curiosity. But not as curious as Lujo or Roche."

A nonsensical phrase to anyone who knew not of the importance of both galactic locations, but he and this woman were not so ignorant. "I don't know whether to think of you as a phoenix or a possum, either way you're quite the trickster. Almost had me fooled this time."

[member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Ashin Karrde"]​

 

[Raziel]

Raziel turned away from the group, placing himself well out of sight of Kaine and hopefully disassociating himself from Ashin in the minds of anyone on this side of the wall. He suddenly became exceptionally interested in his chart and came to an abrupt halt.

Anyone looking carefully might have noticed a faint quiver run across his shoulders. Well this wasn't disappointing.

 

[Progflaw99]

FIV Halstead, Blackwell-class Medical Frigate​

Between Mustafar & Dosuun, First Order Space​

​

The journey from the shattered and blaster scorched hall was little more than a blur of motion and the lingering sensation of pain. Through partially open eyes, Rolf remembered seeing a shadow, then the sensation of movement - overwhelmed by a sharp stab in his chest. How much time had passed? Where was he now? The sharp jolts as he was moved from where he'd fallen were only brief moments of consciousness before he'd once more fade into the nothingness - the darkness of his own mind. His helmet had been removed, he'd done that himself moments before passing unconscious for the first time, or was it the second? There was a time in the shuttle, perhaps several that he recalled awaking in fits of terror. A pressure in his chest burning as if someone had replaced his insides with the coals of a raging inferno, white hot and all consuming. It was as if his body was fighting itself, heart trying to pump blood and oxygen through his body - or out of it, at least until the initial triage had been performed and bandages applied - even so his loss of blood had been severe.

The voices had faded, replaced by a dull pain which carried the First Order trooper into a place between - a place of eternal torment. First pain, then numbness, replaced by cold and then searing. Eventually he'd ceased to distinguish between the two, a final thought consuming his voice, echoing in the infinite space created by the mind. *So this is death* Several times more he woke, eyes snapping open as tubes and tools were used to supply him with fluids, clamp arteries. Once he woke long enough to cough, no doubt further irritating his condition as they intubated him - and then just as before he was pulled back into the depths.

His armor had been wracked by the explosions, by the grenades, and by the weapons of the enemy, the circuitry no doubt fried. To further complicate matters the man's helmet had been discarded in that narrow corridor, to grab refuse discarded on the battlefield hadn't been the priority of those medics - Rolf Amsel, First Order Major was near unidentifiable, nothing more than a John Doe of the First Order Stormtrooper Corps. The only insignia left untouched by blast marks and shattered plating indicated his affiliation to Fortan's Fist, beyond that - nothing.

[member="Briika Tor"] | [member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"]​

 

[Alleycat]

FO Medical Frigate FIV Halstead​

Somewhere between Mustafar and Dosuun.
---


Brask'ari'sabosen quirked up an ebony brow as the female Chiss listened attentively to [member="Briika Tor"] give her report on the patient being handed off. The man was indeed critical and needed much more advanced care than the Mando could possibly give the injured stormtrooper from the back of her medevac dropship. But none the less, the battle medic had done an admiral job stabilizing the patient until he could reach the medical frigate. She would give the woman that.

"You have done well, Baar'ur One. We will take it from here," Karisa nodded curtly to the Mando medic, red eyes glowing confidently, then the blue-skinned near human exited the turbolift with her medical team continuing to fuss over [member="Rolf Amsel"] as they took him straight to the operating suite.

***

After hours of emergent cardio-thoraxic surgery to repair the damage to the soldier's heart and lungs, and the evacuation of a blood clot that had formed on the man's brain from a slow subdural bleed - a surprise finding during a tense moment in surgery, the nameless stormtrooper was taken to the bacta tanks and placed in one to heal the rest of his wounds as the medical frigate made it's way to Dosuun. The duration would be days of treatment. It would be a long haul, if the man survived post op without further complications that is.

Dr. K designated the man as: John Doe 007 as he was the seventh John Doe they had aboard in their care. A shame really that the FO military personnel didn't have microchips inserted into their bodies. It would be most helpful in determining who's who. The CEDF had, and it had been a godsend during times like this.

[member="Irajah Ven"] [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"]

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

she needed a minute, just one to rest herself let her body cool get a ration bar to eat. she found a fallen pillar and sat down as she started unlocking the helmet, she sat the helmet to the side her face drenched in sweat as she reached into a pocket as she took a bar out and started eating it quickly as she laid her head back. however her job wasn't over though the force had pulled back she knew some of the jedi hadn't left. she stood helmet going back on as her sabers flashed on and she closed her eyes as she started back into the castle

a breath out, she felt them hiding, they were in the shadows and further off, like roaches in the dark holding out hope....but no, they would feel the fire that would consume them. she would balance the force as it needed, the light was now blocking the peoples eyes. she rounded one corner and a saber came for her midsection, she quickly blocked as she looked at the blue blade in the jedis hands. the jedi moved back as she felt the fire coming back and her hands caught fire as she rushed it forward, it consumed the jedi who screamed and fell. she walked past the jedi as her blade cut his neck and moved off again

 

[Rexus Wenck]

OPERATION CASSIUS​

​

Mission Objective: Exterminate Alliance Occupants
Location: Several Kicks South Of The Mensix Mining Facility
Status: Arriving Now

​

Rexus Wenck glared out at the bunker complex, rifle in hand as he stormed out of the assault lander. "Come on karkheads, get a move on!" The captain barked, "We don't have all day here!" The stormtrooper watched as dozens of troopers piled out, and began to assault the complex. Built into a hill side, this series of hovels had been transformed into makeshift bunkers. TIE fighters had tracked the retreat of GADF forces and the automatons of HK-36. In the days following the large scale defeat of the Galactic Alliance, High Command debated whether to BDZ the area. It was instead decided that to take the bunker would be more feasible.

The troopers immediately began to take cover behind rocks and the droids and remnant of the defending army fired upon Mustafar's new owners. Rexus ran from the lander, and immediately dove behind an outcrop of charred black stone. The captain peeked out of cover, and fired his rifle at the bunker blindly, trying to dislodge the enemy. "They have a gun!" One private yelled.

Shattergun pellets rained down across the rocks, shattering the cover of one squad. The turret was unrelenting in its focus, "Cover me!" Rexus barked, running out of cover. He began to move towards the next set of cover, firing at where the shattergun was being fired from. He couldn't see it from where he was, but Rexus was sure he'd hit the gunner with that. However his success was short lived, as the gun turned to face Rexus. "Kark me!" Rexus snapped, as the gun slowly turned to face him. Soldiers instinct immediately kicked in, and Rexus dove to the ground, praying he wouldn't be wiped out by the pellets.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Lydia piloted her speeder to the front of the military hospital, following the signs. When she pulled up to the gate, the stormtrooper guard stopped her, hand raised in a stopping motion. "This is a restricted area," he informed her. "Please turn your speeder around and return the way you came."

Lydia drummed her thumbs on the steering yoke of her speeder, biting her bottom lip for a moment before sighing and beginning to dig in her handbag. "I know -- I'm -- here," Lydia said, holding out her identity card. It displayed her security clearance.

The stormtrooper studied it for a few moments, then looked up at her. "You're with the press?"

"That's right," said Lydia. "Authorized by the Ministry of Defense." That was partially true; she was authorized to be in certain restricted areas, but she was entirely unconvinced that this hospital was one of the areas she was authorized to be in. She could plead ignorance if he ejected her, but she wasn't sure that would stop her seeing the inside of a prison cell if this all went wrong.

"And you're doing a story here?" Lydia couldn't tell, with his voice filtered by the mask, whether he was suspicious.

Lydia glanced past him at the hospital in the distance. "Human interest," she replied. "Injured troops flying the flag for Supreme Leader and country, you know?"

He made a non-committal grunt, and then he swiped the card in his reader. Lydia caught her breath, her eyes squeezing shut for a moment as she waited for his response. A moment later, there was a beeping sound from the reader, and then he leaned over and placed his forearms on the open window frame as he handed the card back. "It's an older code, but it checks out. You can park in the structure there. Uh -- no cameras in the hospital. If you need to do a stand up, you can do it on the drive in front." He leaned back and touched the key to open the gate.

Lydia took a breath and took the card back. "Thank you. Thanks." She shifted the speeder into drive and pulled through the now-open gate.

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=11pt]As Pharazon drifted back into unconsciousness his whole body relaxed, and by the time that Irajah slipped her hands from his he was already asleep. Thankfully, his sleep this time was blissfully dreamless and peaceful, the lines of pain and grief easing on his face, even if the redness remained around his eyes. The only slight awareness his mind experienced was warmth, and a release of stress built up over months of combat deployments, killing, and seeing his men die, sent to their deaths by his own hand. His black hair, usually impeccably clean and combed was unkempt and strewn across his face and neck as he lay on the hospital bed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Pharazon was not sure for how long he had been unconscious and sedated as his eyes once again slowly opened. For all he knew it could have been hours, or mere minutes, Pharazon was not sure and cared little. Slowly blinking his eyes open, memory and awareness greater and clear than the first time he had awoken, he took in the room. Sterile white medical equipment and monitors hooked to his body, monitoring and recording his vital readings and the level of various drugs in his system. Vision finally clear, he could also make out various medical staff scurrying about in the corridors outside his room, which he also noted, he was not in a ward but in a private, at least for a hospital, room. Turning his head slowly to look around in more detail, he considered that it may be because of his rank or a favour from someone high in Central Command or… he looked at his right leg, his right thigh more accurately, or because of... that [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]he thought, disturbed, closing his eyes for the instant it took for his legs to move out of his peripherals.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As he looked again out into the corridor, Pharazon saw what appeared to be civilians, family members of the wounded or the dead he supposed. He paused, watching as a woman and two small children walked past, the apparent mother keeping her young son and daughter close, pointedly saying to one of them to no gawk at a patient. She must mean me [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]he thought dejectedly, his mind taking it as evidence of his abnormality, of his irregularity, that he was now a sad spectacle and cautionary tale rather than a man. As they finally passed beyond his limited viewpoint out the doorway, he rested his head back onto the pillow and bed.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Relaxing again, slowly so as to avoid aggravating the plethora of bruises that covered his body, still capable of causing him pain despite the painkillers if he moved too violently. As he placed his head down, a thought came to him No one will visit me like that, my family will not come, by the mists… they don’t even know I am here, I wonder whether they would even care [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]he thought in a mix of angry frustration and surprising sadness. He had thought of his family sparingly in the two years since he had fled Hapes, but the old anger and sadness connected to them was still strong as the feelings descended upon his mind. He pictured each of them in turn, his beloved sister Elenthyia, as beautiful as any Hapan but with a magnificent intelligence and capacity of empathy. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]She was always closest with me even over her full sister… but does she even live? [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Thoughts of her made him even more angry at his current state, cursing his incompetence at allowing himself to be wounded. Then came the visage of his other sister, not so much beloved, Bethelthyia the very picture of a Hapan noblewoman, conceited and viscious yet brutally capable given her training and service in the Chume'doro, the infamous within the Consortium Hapan Royal Guard. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]I am sure if she were here she would shoot me or drag me back to Hapes or one of our family's compounds elsewhere in the Cluster [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]he continued his conceited internal dialogue with himself decisively. There was little love lost between half-brother and sister, there would be a reckoning should the two meet again. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]She will pay for hounding me through the Outer Rim.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]His thoughts then turned to his uncle Lithaldor, his father figure, the man who had effectively raised him and protected him within the cut throat realm of Hapan palace politics. If only he could see me know, squandering everything he put himself through, everything he sacrificed for me [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Pharazon was growing increasingly distressed again, emotions overtaking his rational mind again, eyes welling up once again. Then his mother appeared. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Why mother… [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]was all he could think, any other memories too painful for him to contemplate in such a public place. All he felt were mixed emotions concerning the woman that had born him. He sympathised with but also despised her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Then, suddenly, he found himself pondering his biological father. He had never been able to learn anything of him, not even from his uncle. He only knew that his name was Pharazhar, and even that he only knew because it was a part of his own name, which, according to his uncle, was in the style of his father’s people, whoever they were, which gave sons the middle names of their father and paternal grandfather. I am sure wherever he is in the galaxy, if he is still alive, he doesn’t care, perhaps he doesn’t even know I exist... [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Pharazon’s mind cleared after that thought. He knew dwelling on all the people who would not be coming to see him or care about him was dangerous, and liable to make him furious or anguished, and he had enough of both for a lifetime.[/SIZE]

Perhaps Cain or Sandalphon might be here… Cain and Sandalphon, Mustafar… Do they even still live… Did we carry the day… or am I a survivor of a disaster… [SIZE=11pt]his heart rate increased, he began [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]fidgeting[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] in his bed, sweat began to bead on his face. He opened his mouth, and tried to call someone in, but could only wheeze before he broke into a cough that showed him the futility in trying to say anything above a whisper.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But then a voice came over the hospital intercom, Grand Moff Fortan... she lives [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]he recognised weakly. As he listened to the announcement his heart quieted and he lay back once more. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Victory… the 189th and the rest of the army must have broken through to the mine... but who died under my command when I lost unconsciousness, who in the 189th is in this very hospital [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]his mind grimly pondered. However, there was no way for him to discover answers to any of these questions now, and he knew it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And so he lay back in his hospital bed still, trying to keep his emotions in check, his face was still red and distressed, he still despised himself, but he allowed the news of their victory and his now confirmed knowledge of the survival of [member="Irajah Ven"] and Grand Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"] survival to comfort him. His eyes fluttered, and again he drifted back into sedative induced unconsciousness after emotionally exhausting himself.[/SIZE]

 

[Kuzo]

As if you had a choice.

Who is this?

A curiousity.

Irajah wasn't certain she could be any more angry and disgusted than she already was. Of course, [member="Ashin Karrde"] just had to go and prove her wrong.

Already uncomfortable being between [member="Darth Carnifex"] and a stranger, the look on the other woman's face and then the question itself knocked the wind right out of her sails and sent her mentally stumbling.

"What? You think- GODS NO. No. Absolutely not."

There was no hiding the look of sheer, unadulterated disgust on the doctor's face.

She cast one last look at the masked and cloaked figure at Kaine's feet. A shudder coursed through her body that had nothing to do with the strangers.... insinuations.

"I will send another doctor along to treat you," she said- she tried to make it sound cold, but the gritted teeth gave her away. She had no interest in continuing the conversation- now or ever if she could avoid it. The arrival of the other woman was, in a way, timely. They obviously knew each other and Irajah was perfectly pleased to leave them to their.... weird little reunion. ANYTHING to get out of his vicinity.

Offering a curt nod to Ashin (after all, what do you say to someone who just insinuated you had.... never mind), she turned, heading back down the hallway in the direction she'd come. Back toward [member="Pharazon Draken"]'s room. She didn't know where she was headed, if it was there or somewhere else. Other than anyway it hardly mattered. She moved more stiffly than usual, and the itching feeling of those sulfuric eyes on her back was enough that she didn't really notice [member="Raziel"] where he leaned against the wall as she headed in his direction.

 

[Progflaw99]

FIV Halstead, Blackwell-class Medical Frigate​

Between Mustafar & Dosuun, First Order Space​

​

How much time had passed? He had no idea, everything melded together, the ghostly voices still dropping in every now and then but their words were no longer distinguishable from the low hum of the ship's engines. Or was it the sound of the ocean.. Even as the thought occurred to him the Major found himself blinking, trying to get the saltwater out of his eyes as a large wave broke on the front of the sailboat. Raising a hand to the main, out of instinct he called out.

"Ready to Jibe." A pause. "Jibing, Boom coming across!"​

​

He ducked low as the boom swung overhead, the bow of the boat turning from where it had been off to the side, the wind catching the sail above. He felt the roll of the water below, the craft picking up speed as the sail fluttered and filled. Rolf felt the familiar pang of adrenaline as he held on, the rush of wind against his face creating a grin as the small catamaran sped faster and faster. Standing on the port side of the vessel, his view was blocked. A strange sensation began to grip at his chest. This felt so... familiar. Cutting across the wind, he made the decision to cut back to starboard - farther on down the coast was a narrow straight with a few fun spots to zig zag through, large rocks a challenge to weave between but he'd done it before. Why not, he wasn't in a rush. As he prepared to cut back the other way, he lifted his voice again, more out of habit than anything.

"Ready to tack." Another pause. "Tacking, Boom coming across!"​

​

He wasn't sure what happened just then, but the Major recalled a sound, something he'd heard before but couldn't place it. It was the sound of.. blasters? No, that couldn't be it - mayb -

*CRACK*​

​

The boom. The boom had come across and he'd forgotten to duck, distracted by something. Rolf's body was thrown into the water, the cold shock jolting him hard. Everything spun, waves crashing down on him, the world closing in on him as he tried to orient himself. He could feel his body moving but it felt sluggish, unable to move his arms or legs, fighting against an invisible grasp. As the spinning began to slow he felt his lungs afire, the veins of his arms and legs burning as he tried fruitlessly to move. He could see the surface now but as he tried to push himself onward... he began to sink. A pull on his leg made him look down, frantic as he saw a sea of hands, dark shapes grasping, pulling him deeper and deeper. He looked up, fear welling in his chest, lungs burning from lack of oxygen - and then everything around him faded.

​

​

Outside of the bacta tank, alarms had begun to screech, John Doe 007's body jerking rapidly, arms, legs - almost as if he were having seizures. While his heart rate rose, his oxygen saturation took a dive. His body was burning oxygen faster than it could be replaced - and then all was silent. Mid seize his muscles suddenly relaxed, his eyes ceasing to flicker. His recovery was far from complete, even now a small measure of blood seeped into the bacta tank - he must have reopened a wound - the medical staff aboard the FIV Halstead had their work cut out for them.

[member="Brask'ari'sabosen"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"] | [member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Darth Carnifex"] [member="Raziel"] [member="Irajah Ven"]

Ashin restrained a smile with transparent difficulty, the kind of smile you want people to see. She moved aside to let the petite brunette leave. "I see you haven't lost your famous charm, Kaine," she said, leaning against the doorframe. She'd never have been so casual back in the day, but she'd done a lot of living since then, as a lot of people. "Trickster doesn't fit, no. Trickster would imply I took amusement from surviving betrayal and making a new life for myself, brick by brick. The only satisfaction I gleaned from Roche and Lujo...and Selvaris...came from a sure knowledge that I would outlast the people who've crossed me, and that didn't amuse me at all. I was before them and I will be after them."

She stopped leaning on the doorframe and stood to her full height. It wasn't much next to Kaine's stature, but unlike the brunette who'd just left, she didn't have trouble coming up to his sternum.

"You've built a nice little situation here, Kaine, tucked away in your burrow with powerful friends all around. It must chafe, though, being on their leash."