Private Look for the helpers

[Zee Caromed]

Silk Holding Station in Balmorra System​

There was something bad in the air tonight. Zee didn't care for it.

On his way to Alpheridies, Zee had stopped by Kuat to pick up a few parts. Things he needed for his puddlejumer, things he needed in general. A few laminanium components to test various bits with. Before getting back onto the highway, he'd decided to swing by a Silk Holdings station for some much-needed food that hadn't come from his broken fridge, cooked in something that wasn't a reheater. And also, a shower. The life support in his ship was on the fritz. Again.

Shortly after cleaning up but before getting that much-needed burger, he'd paused by one of the main thuroughfares to consider his options. Take stock. A handful of credits, a long road ahead. His ether board still needed some attention, too - but getting parts for that would mean trading away that burger and fries for freeze-dried karkan ribenes and 'sauce' again. Art was a sacrifice, but how much was he willing to sacrifice? The eternal struggle. But deciding on that didn't distract him nearly as much as the malaise he felt, the charged sensation he'd had since setting foot on the little podunk rest station. The sense that there was something wrong, something coming. If he was honest, Zee was halfway convinced that the feeling had more to do with his steady diet of 'protien' meals and fruit-infused water, and less to do with the Force. He'd never been strong with it, and it'd never jumped to his side that he knew of. Something he could call upon - a little - but not a weapon. Barely a tool. Never armor.

Zee was pondering this right up until he heard an alarmed shout from deeper in the station, followed by the roar of air in an enclosed space being disrupted by an explosion. Heat, noise, POWER roared through the corridor, sending screaming bodies flying hither and yon through the station. Zee landed hard across a bench, splitting his forehead open on the anti-homeless bar across the middle. His vision swam before blood started spilling into his eyes.

Something had happened. An explosion. All it'd taken was one wild second, and it felt like every joint in his body had been filled with hot glass shards. From the sounds of it, the other people in the station weren't doing so hot, either.

The svelte young man forced himself to his feet, pressing his sleeve to his forehead. He took stock of the thurofare around him. A dozen people screaming. A couple who weren't. Assess. Act. Zalke pulled a green coarseweave sash out of his bag and tied it around his waist, a symbol of his affiliation with the Mandalorian Life-Bearers, and got to work tending the injured - starting with those in the most immediate danger. He moved with the confidence and grim efficiency of a trained combat medic, directing those who could stand and weren't shell-shocked to fetch as many first-aid kits and the like as possible.

Farther away, deeper in the station, he could hear the sound of yelling and what sounded like a lightsaber - he sincerely hoped not, though. And if so, he hoped they stayed far away.


Braze
​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Zee Caromed

Braze had only stopped to refuel, just passing through, one foot still in transit between systems, when chaos erupted across the Silk Holdings station. There was no hesitaton as years of muscle memory took over as alarms blared and smoke began to rise. In the wake of the Empire's brutal campaign to crush rebellious systems like Balmorra, civilian hubs like this one had become prime targets for sabotage, misinformation, or outright terrorism.

Braze was a known rebel sympathizer, and clearly a problem, as far as the Empire was concerned.
Which meant wherever things got loud… trouble had a way of finding him.

In a blur of motion, he surged through the panicked crowd, weaving between bodies and debris with terrifying speed as he launched into combat against any who posed a threat. The Entropite crystal in his weapon allowed him him to cut through opponents with fluid grace, incapacitating them without harm. Each strike was clean, efficient, and unervingly controlled. He moved like wind leaving no trail but the collapse of those left stunned in his wake.

As smoke still curled in the corridors and the scent of scorched durasteel filled the air, Braze pivoted from his last strike. Another would-be attacker crumpled harmlessly, the Entropite crystal shimmering soft blue in the low light. His jade green gaze snapped to movement ahead.

A figure in green was crouched over a wounded man, hands stained with blood, breath quick but steady.

Braze stepped forward, cautiously
"Are you alright?"

 

[Zee Caromed]

In this situation, with the limited tools at his disposal, there was only so much Zee could do. An explosion in a contained space like this could have been much more deadly, and for that he was thankful - but there were likely injuries here that Zee could do nothing about. Organ damage, brain damage, injuries to joints and spines from being thrown around. It was all he could do to stabilize the people he could recognize as immediately in danger of dying, directing those who could be directed towards the people with needs they could address.

He didn't have the stature or the voice to shout commands over increasingly panicked civilians, though. Zee feared he could go his entire life and never be good at crowd work.

The snap-hiss and thrum of lightsabers drew closer. Zee saw the glow of blue over his shoulder first, and he couldn't help but tense up. Lightsabers made him anxious, the way somebody drawing a gun did. A lightsaber escalated a situation, it turned a situation one might've walked away from into one with amputations at the very least, and more commonly worse than that. Though it was a relief that the saber was blue and not red, he was still apprehensive as he turned to get a look at who it belonged to.

Zee found himself meeting the eyes of one of the most beautiful men he'd ever seen, entirely unprepared for such an event. The Jedi was radiant, his striking white hair and breathtaking eyes perfectly highlighted by the soft blue glow of his lightsaber. Moreover, Zee could see past the Jedi, as the man he'd just cut in half simply collapsed - un-bisected.

A non-lethal lightsaber. A gorgeous knight with a non-lethal lightsaber. An angel had descended.

Gobsmacked as he was, Zee didn't forget for a moment that he was applying pressure to a heavily bleeding wound. The Nemoidian beneath his hands had caught a shard of metal to the shoulder, ripping open a long cut across her neck. She was insensate - gasping quietly for air. Zee was stained up to the elbows in the poor woman's blood.

She was wearing a wedding bangle with three stones in it. He'd seen such things used to honor the births of children.

"I need help." Zee replied desperately, glancing back up to the Jedi. "Cloth. Clean cloth, for bandages - there's some in my bag over there." He replied, nodding to his discarded armorweave bag. "I'm out of sealant. There might be some nearby. Please." Zee begged. "She doesn't have much time, and if I move-"

​