Private Let's Get Down to Business

[Sion Lorray]

EMPRESS TETA
CINNEGAR
Cordé Sabo

Some time passed since Osarla Ridor rescued him from that dreadful camp. His dreams were still filled with hot pitched pain and fear. His waking days? Different. She became his Master, perhaps out of a sense of obligation or because she truly saw potential in him. Sion doubted the latter, but she seemed rather honest about it. No matter the reason Sion was fixated on showing he could pull his weight.

That she didn't make a mistake pulling him out of the camp.

Or to make him her Padawan.

Cinnegar itself was still a smoldering mess from the invasion. It was a sad look and he was once again struck with the desire for reveng- No, that was not the Jedi way. Instead Osarla had sent him into the capital to help support the refugees. Those who were lost and wounded and couldn't get out on their own. He was a Padawan, but Togruta held faith in him. Then again with the Maw gone... well.

There was little threat left.

He promised to be careful and that was that.

Fifteen minutes ago Sion finished helping a family onto a transport that would fly them up above the planet. A relief station in place to help spread the refugees around Alliance territory to spread the weight of burden. Now? He was picking through the rubble. Trying to make his way. His escort had gone back to the security point. Apparently this was a risk area, but that was exactly why Sion was here.

They couldn't or wouldn't help, but he would.

That was the way of the Jedi.

He'd make his Master proud.

Suddenly a rapid flurry of sounds cut through the dreary silence. A fight? His hand went to the lightsaber, but didn't unclip it nor ignite it. The first objective should be de-escalation. If you bring your saber straight into the fight, that's all it would ever be, a fight. Perhaps he could reason with these people... or maybe it wasn't a fight. Maybe he was just mishearing things. Carefully Sion crouched down and made his way to the source of the commotion.

It was time to prove himself.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

CLASSIFICATION: PRIORITY FIVE; ONITH STRATEGIC INTELLIGENCE AGENCY //..transmission Designate: YSALAMIRI[​ PILOT OPERATION: DIVINE RETRIBUTION | TZY LOCATION: EMPRESS TETA, CINNEGAR, IRON CITAGEL AND SURROUNDING AREA BRIEF: SWEEP THE AREA. FIND AND DESTROY REMNANTS OF SITH ARTIFACTS OR CULTS. LICENSE TO KILL: GRANTED ON ALL SITH-RELATED PRACTITIONERS AND PERSONNEL. Mission ongoing.

Cinnegar was smouldering beneath the not fully black sky.

It had been hours since Task Force Y had been deployed and began broadcasting their mission to the senate back on Coruscant. The whole thing hadn't sat well with Cordé, but they'd done their part, proven themselves, and now the cameras were off.

Which was a bit of a shame because this showdown probably would have been a great nailbiter to the suits at home.

She'd gotten too close, and the Sith had cleaved through the barrel of her particle gun. Leaving it melted and useless. She'd immediately dropped it and run for cover to devise a backup plan.

I can sense your fear. The Sith beckoned cruelly through its sneer.

Meanwhile, crouched behind the fallen angle of what had previously been an impressive archway, Cordé was working furiously to conceal herself while trying to rummage through her pack. Viles and potions rattled against her fingers, but it wasn't the bomb she was —— ah, there it was.

Cordé worked through the dials necessary to arm the bomb that would disconnect the Sith from its mystical powers. One click, two clicks, three clicks. On the fourth, she launched upward from her position, revealing where she'd been hiding, and tossed the orb in the direction of the lingering Mawite.

The throw never came, and the click of the detonator never made it. Some horrible, horrible invisible grip wrenched her wrist and immobilized the gesture. Worse still, her throat was burning, like invisible claws were curling against her trachea to crush it.

Her one free hand desperately clawed at her throat.

You think you stand any chance against the darkside? It laughed at the incredulity of the suggestion. Pathetic hubris.


Sion Lorray

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

You think you stand any chance against the darkside? It laughed at the incredulity of the suggestion. Pathetic hubris.

Well, that wasn't great.

He was crouching behind a wall overlooking the fight. Over there the woman was in a fight of her life, but where the kriff was the Sith? You usually needed line-of-sight to do a Force Choke like that. But Sion couldn't make out any dark-cloaked figure. Anywhere. The situation was worsening too and Sion wasn't sure how long the woman had before-

There.

It wasn't a cloaked figure stately killing someone with glee.

There was a prone figure, obscured by dust, but with a clear hand outstretched towards Cordé. At first glance he assumed it was a victim of the war, dead, but no... those eyes were open.

And they were full of hate.

What do, what do?? And then he pulled out a brick stone, crumbling slightly in his hand, and threw it between them. As it flew through the air he used the Force to make it burst. The dust concrete spread through the air and broke the eye contact between Kovacs and the Sith. That would immediately release their hold over the medic's neck.

As she was cut off the view, he snuck up around.

"Hey, hey- you okay?" Hands up, to show he wasn't a threat.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

The air that had struggled to flow and never came suddenly came all at once. In a woosh, it travelled through her lungs and back redistribution. But now, she couldn't swallow. The contractions of her throat were slow to work after being compressed, and she gagged on the thick, ashy taste.

It was pathetic, and through the dread alarms, she knew exactly which parts of her body were unresponsive. She tried to concentrate on her breathing, to steady it so she could feel stable and whole again.

What had happened? How was she...?

She dropped to her knees, limp and dragging her hands through the grit of the floor. The bomb rolled from her hands, picking up speed with its distance. She flattened to her stomach, stretching to try and reach it, desperate to finish the job. This Sith couldn't live.

"Hey, hey- you okay?"

Bleary-eyed, she tensed. Anxiousness was a numbness in her hands and legs and she pushed herself forward in her stretch to try and get the rolling orb back in her grip. Scrambling through the dust, Cordé coughed her way to recovery.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"Hey, it's-"

Oh, dear.

She really was struggling, wasn't she? He crept closer, his hand on her shoulder gentle right as she reached for the bomb. "Let me help you." Not realizing what she was after. Sion wasn't a soldier after all. He was barely a Jedi at that. But there were instincts and they told him that if a person was in need?

You had to help them.

His eyes closed.

Before she could squeeze her hand shut around the bomb he touched the Lightside of the Force. Its healing forces surged through his hand into her shoulder and seeped deeper into her.

It was great and all.

But that would definitely distract her a bunch from grabbing the bomb that would kill the Sith. Not that Sion was aware of this. He was way too focused on trying to heal the damage or at least soften it a bit. For now the Sith was still struggling his way, the Padawan could feel him now. Faintly. There was still time to rescue this woman.

"Better?" Asked carefully as he glanced up, to try and pierce the veil of dust. Difficult... impossible.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Suddenly her crawling was stopped; her hand stayed outstretched and woefully empty.

"What are you —" Was the beginning of her protest, and then she fell into another series of coughs. Rough at first, but the deep, overwhelming sensation of warmth smoothed out the cacophonous bursts. The itching knives in her throat melted away, and the bruising she'd felt seemed to fade entirely.

"S—stop! What're you —" She murmured and was pleasantly surprised that it didn't hurt to speak. She twisted and with the hand that wasn't going after the bomb, lifted to grab his and yank it away from her. The first rule of healing or medicine that she'd learned, was consent.

And then sedation.

"Better?"

But who was this guy?

"Yes, but no, can you just —"

A Jedi?

Her heart pounded angrily in its ribcage and her competitive spirit spiked. And now, just out of her reach, the bomb ticked away. Blinking its red count down with happy chimes that gave them minutes to detonation.

"You're getting in the way." She glared, and shoved away from him. Her motions were smoother now that she was healed, and she no longer had to stretch like a beached whale. It was more of a sweeping lunge now to intercept the blinking bomb and lob it away from them. Or turn it off. She just had to get to it first.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

Jedi didn't have much truck with concepts like 'consent'.

After all, didn't they yank little kids out of homes to teach them the ways of the Force? Right. And the sanctity of life was a pretty important guideline too. Which meant you couldn't stop and ask every wounded creature if they wanted to be saved. They all deserved to be saved. Even if they didn't want to be saved.

It was a rather strange orthodoxy, Sion had to agree, but he was a mere Padawan. What did he know about the complexities of dead-or-alive philosophies?

"Ma'am, just a moment ago you were chokin-" And then his eyes followed the trajectory of the.... BOMB. "Holy feth, is that a bomb?"

Before Kovacs could reach it, the ground began to shake.

Apparently the Sith realized that if he couldn't see them the next best option was an area of effect attack. Something that would take everything out in the block. That was safer than to try and get closer. Either way. It ripped open a crack in the ground, which send the bomb sliding away from her outstretched hand.

Sion's hand thrust out.

Trying to pull at the bomb with the Force... and yet... couldn't actually... find it with the Force.

"What the hell is it? I can't grab it with the Force?"

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Cordé didn't gratify the stupid question of what was a bomb and what wasn't with an answer. She was too focused on trying to get said bomb. The metal brushed against her fingertips — yes! —and the ground began to quake before she could apply enough pressure to pinch it back to her.

Any footing she'd gained was discombobulated by the cement's rupture beneath her feet, and she staggered to keep her balance.

At least she knew the technology was working enough for it to elude the Jedi. And felt an inkling of gratitude that Sion Lorray was actually trying to help properly.

Now she just had to make sure the Sith got the bad end of the bomb too. It wouldn't cause an explosion so much as negate the environment's life force around the Sith. Consuming metaphysical energy with enough efficiency to leave the Sith void of its powers and give Cordé the chance to end them.

"It's a void detonator," Cordé responded as if that would answer the question. She lunged again, scrambling enough to snatch up the bomb in her hand. The ground never stopped shaking, and the rumbling stonework cracked and fissured all beneath her feet until she dropped on her butt again.

But this time, she was able to press the detonator.

It didn't arm itself.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"Oh, yes, of course it is!" He retorted after Kovacs answered as if it said everything it needed to say.

What was a void detonator?

Why did they need one?

Why the nether was it not possible to grab hold of it with the Force?

These were only some of the questions that Sion felt in that moment.

Luckily for all of them Sion wouldn't have the opportunity to ask more annoying questions. The earth shattering caused him to stumble, yes, but as Kovacs dropped on her ass? Sion's attention was on the Force. It was the only reason he felt the huge surge in power. He didn't know what it was, wasn't sure what it would be.

All he knew? He skidded to his knees and almost crashed into Kovacs.

Before she could ask what the kriff he was doing, he snapped a Force Bubble around them. Right in time too because half the wreckage of a speeder rammed itself into the protection at that exact moment. "Go hide with... your... whatever." Staring at the detonator, before detaching himself from Kovacs and pulling out his lightsaber.

Then he disappeared into the dusty veil.

The snap-hiss and the blue illumination was all the signs of the Jedi before they too vanished.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

The unresponsive detonator was enough for her to go pallid. Distantly, she was aware of the unsettling feeling that came when panic tried to creep in. Her muscles were tensing up, and her awareness was starting to hyperfocus on the bomb in her hands. A piece of technology that was failing her right when she needed it.

With panic came doubt, the horrible sensation that reminded her that she was a medic and not a soldier first. Without her toys, no matter how brightly her zeal burned, she was —

— "Ah!" The shock whooshed through her, and she flung her arm over her face. Hiding in the crook of her elbow, drawing her knees in, and turning away too late, she barely saw what was about to happen before the Jedi jumped in. A hulk of metal that would have shattered their bodies shimmered out spiderwebs of sparks and debris against the gossamer crescent that bubbled out of the Jedi's hand.

She drew in a sharp breath and suddenly felt nauseous.

"W—" The not-even-half-beckon never fully formed, and she twisted to all fours to watch through the dust cloud while the speeder smouldered and burned nearby. The burning metal was a sharp smell of fire chewing through rust and steel. "Hide?!" Her ego deflated, puffing out in a gasp, and she turned to look at what Sion Lorray had called a whatever.

"You stupid, stupid thing." Cordé growled at the bomb, turning back over to her knees and twisting the sphere counterclockwise, then clockwise, looking for any sign of where it had gone faulty. The technology was rarely used, and maybe it hadn't been updated recently?

Panic's creep accelerated, and she couldn't help but look over her shoulder into the dust to see what happened to that blue glow rod.

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

Blue glow phased in and out of the smoke as the particles obscured its presence.

Then?

It met red glow.

Quite viscerally as the movements quickened aggressively. Sparks flowing as the two lightsabers dashed against one another. Faster and faster. This was accompanied by cries of battle, grunts, the triumphant scream of the Sith Lord and the rebellious bellow of the Padawan. In a normal situation this would have been a quick battle ending with Sion decapacitated or worse.

Lucky for him the Lord wasn't at his prime. Tired, wounded, he had barely any emotions left in him to draw from.

It still was too close.

Until a cry of pain sounded sharp through the dust. It wasn't clear who it belonged to... until the red saber dropped down to the ground. Where it extinguished itself after a moment or two.

"Ma'am? You still there?" Sion's familiar voice through the dust. "It's safe now. You can come out."

Sion limped to where he had seen her next. Now with several burns through his arm and chest. He was sweating, in pain, but... oddly satisfied too. In a grim way. The extinguishing of life was never something to be pleased about, but he had managed it. Proved himself, hadn't he? Showed to his Master that he was worth a damn.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

A quiet, defeated-sounding white puffed out of the centre of the bomb. And, if possible, the little orb seemed to sag in her palm.

"No." She whispered and shook it.

Several meters away, through the dust, a conflict was happening that she wasn't a part of. And it gnawed at her. She should have been completing her mission, Operation Divine Retribution, and been the one responsible for the wins against the Sith.

"Ma'am? You still there?"
"It's safe now. You can come out."

Cordé had been wrestling with trying to get the detonator to work longer than she thought. She'd lost track of time, disassociated from the present, and was only pulled back by the smell of ash and the Jedi's voice.

"I'm not hiding." The Bastion native sneered and glared at the emerging silhouette. Grey film clung to his clothes, and he looked the same colour as the floor they stood on. Maybe it was her training, but she looked beyond the dull grime and immediately hyperfocused on the burns and indicators of wounds.

Her first reaction was to reach for the comprehensive medical pack strapped to her back, but she paused halfway through the gesture.

Maybe she was still a little offended by the do-it-all-boy-wonder. He'd healed her and killed her Sith.

"What do you mean, safe. You killed it?"

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"I did not say you were hiding." A bit defensive of a tone, because he had certainly implied it. "I was just trying to say... that... well..." Now awkward, because if that hadn't been his point, than what had been?

"That... it is safe now?"

He sighed and rubbed his brow. The sweat and dust was clinging to his skin, he was tired and Sion was reasonably sure he had almost been killed about four or five times there. Just luck... sheer silly luck that kept him alive. This was a bit disheartening. How long would it be, until he'd actually be useful in a fight?

They didn't have time for him to 'learn' and be patient.

Now or never.

"Yes, I killed him." It? Such a strange way to disassociate. "I tried to take him in alive. Taking lives is never a good option... but... he left me no choice and he was clearly a threat to the sanctity of life."

Sion suddenly found his head spinning.

Was the ground coming closer?

Unless Cordé helped, he'd certainly fall on his ass from exhaustion, dehydration and the wounds inflicted on him.

 

[Cordé Sabo]

Cordé's ego was bruised, and she resented the entire situation they were in. A Jedi swooped in and completed her mission. A Jedi was spouting off about the importance of all life and how a Jedi mustn't resort to killing. She finished rolling her eyes just as Sion Lorray seemed to be losing his footing.

His face went pallid, and his posture appeared sapped as though his spine was, vertebrae by vertebrae, going soft.

"Oh." She puffed, and moved to quickly close the distance. Her shoulder shoved against his torso, under his arm, and looped her one arm around him. Like a one-sided hug that focused on keeping him upright.

"Hey, you okay?" He probably wasn't. But if he could engage in dialogue, give her an answer, he could keep his consciousness a little longer. This close, she could see the sweat gathering through the dust on his brow.

"Let's..let's lower your centre of gravity." She instructed. The pettiness she'd felt earlier was quickly shoved out of the way by her duty to medicine. If she could get him to sit, rest, it would be easier for her to reach into her pack rather than trying to keep him balanced.

"Think you can do that healing thing you did on me, on yourself?"

 

[Sion Lorray]

Cordé Sabo

"Oh... yeah... just fine. Bit dizzy." But his voice was growing lethargic. Like it had to travel from somewhere deeper and his eyes grew unfocused.

"Yes... sure."

Hesitant as Sion allowed her to help him sit down. Allow was a big word, of course. She could have done anything she wanted with him in that moment and Sion would have been hard-pressed to stop her. Up to and including slapping him in the face for taking her opportunity away from her. "Nooo, doesn't work like that."

The hand she had used to steady him by his side?

It came off wet from blood.

"Can only... hear others. Oh.. Force, I think I am going to... thr-" He quickly looked away from her, angling his body too, so she wouldn't have to see. But it wouldn't shield the sounds of him throwing up in such an undignified manner.

"Oh gods. Master is going to be so disappointed..." Such a defeated tone as Sion started to slump. "...why am I not stronger?"

After a moment Cordé would realize he had passed out.

So much for the hero.