Moving Forward

[Adron Malvern]

Location: The Silent Winter, CIS Space | Objective: Travel to Enos | Tags: [member="Alessandra Creed"] | Post: I

A bead of sweat fell to the polished floors of the training room as Adron was forced down to a knee. He drew in deep labored breaths hoping to replenish the air he had spent in his last assault. The training room was drenched in a fog of darkness, yet three sets of lights gave off a faint hue to allow some semblance of illumination. These lights came from the PROXY droids that were slowly encircling the young Sith. He had been facing the droids for the majority of the morning and while he had been able to defeat them, he could not. His goal was not to beat an opponent of equal skill, but instead it was to last against an enemy of unyielding stamina.

The first hour had been simple and almost tedious, yet as he moved into the second and third hour he began to feel the result of the droid's onslaught. His reserves long since spent he was now drawing his strength purely from the Dark Side of the Force.

"Peace is a lie." He muttered, his hair sticking to his brow as he took his place back on his feet. The first line of the Sith mantra often gave him a boost in resolve. Yet whether it was truly him finally gaining a solid understanding of the Dark Side or merely a mental stimulant he did not know.

One of the PROXY droids crossed in front of his path, holding an inactive lightsaber in his right hand. His metallic voice was an interesting mixture of condescendence and instruction. "Yes, Master. Peace is a lie. There is only passion. Through passion I gain strength."

From behind him he heard the droid's voice again, this time spoken from it's brother unit that watched Adron's back. "Through strength I gain power."

The final droid spoke the next line of the Sith Code, yet his voice was lost in the shadows of the training hall and Adron had even lost sight of the dim lights spread over his body. "Through power I gain victory."

"Through victory my chains are broken." This time it was Adron who spoke a line from the code. Having gained a much needed moment to gather himself he could feel The Force flowing through his veins, prepared to grant him the strength to continue on once again.

There was a subtle shift in the room as the PROXY droid's lights flickered off. Darkness completely swallowed Adron and he clenched his hands around his lightsaber's hilt as he prepared for the inevitable.

A snap-hiss sounded....and another.....and another. The blood red hue that fell over Adron caused him to narrow his eyes. The PROXY droid's had taken on their combat forms and were poised to attack. A pale imitation of flesh and blood surrounded him, nothing more than advanced holoprojectors to fool someone into believing they were facing a true opponent. The dark robed men held their lightsabers close to their bodies, slowly starting their predator-like encirclement of their opponent.

The Force shall free me.

Two rapid snap-hisses erupted from Adron as a lightsaber blade sprang from each of his hands. Wielding two blades, one violet and the other a sunburnt shade of orange, he held them to either side of his waist as his eyes shifted from one droid to another.

There was a rhythm to it all. The droid's were experts with their blades but they were painfully predictable. When his eyes became locked on the droid In front of him the PROXY droid behind him lept into the air. His lightsaber gave off a menacing hum as he brought it up in a wide arc, crashing down on his target. Rather than get intertwined with the droid, Adron turned his body so the blade narrowly passed by his chest. He could feel the blade pass over his face, yet he kept his mind focused, the sequence wasn't over just yet. Another blade was aimed for his back, hoping to pierce his torso and end the conflict. This time Adron's violet blade would come up as he leaned to his left. The crimson blade was batted out the way, almost harmlessly, as Adron strafed back from the two droids. Like clockwork, both droids swiped their lightsabers in sync with Adron's movement. Each blade barely missed his midsection as he retreated from the automatons.

What ensued next was a rapid series of parries as the droid's continued to wear down Adron's defenses. As blade clashed with blade, his near impenetrable defense was beginning to show the cracks of exhaustion. Where he had been fast he was growing sluggish.

They continued to back him into the wall and he felt his breath grow thin once again.

The loud shock of lightsaber on lightsaber continued until Adron was almost near the rearmost wall. He knew what happened next.

The third droid, which had steered clear of he engagement until now, dropped down behind the Sith closing off his ability to retreat. Adron stood amidst the droids as their blades fell upon him, each swipe of his sabers growing more and more sluggish until finally it happened.

A fast maneuver from one of the PROXY droids left him with a hot rush to his left thigh. Adron winced, and the pain from the first strike caused his defense to falter once again as another shallow cut traced along the line of his shoulders.

Enough.

Drawing on the Dark Side of the Force, Adron pooled his anger into a single devastating burst. His limbs forgot their strain and the pain that had plagued his body had momentarily subsided. With stunning speed, Adron batted the droid's lightsaber's away in an almost perfect unison. With a rather daring spin, his blades slammed over the chest pieces of each droid, destroying the small shields that they hosted. With their shields destroyed, each droid immediately deactivated his lightsaber and took a step back from Adron.

The droids had been programmed to end their attacks only if their opponent dealt a blow that could kill an unshielded being.

"Simulation ended. Congratulations Master, your total combat time has improved by thirty two minutes."

Too occupied with the damage done to his thigh, Adron ignored the droid's praise.

"What time is it?" He demanded, his own lightsaber blade's retreating back into their emitter's. The PROXY droid's spoke in an annoying unison that caused Adron to scowl at each of them individually. "It is eight in the morning Master." Eight O'clock. He had actually spent a bit longer in the training room than he originally intended. "Fine. Go power down." He ordered with a dismissing wave of his hand. While the droid's made their way to the charging bays Adron turned towards the room's exit.

Exiting the shadowy training room, Adron's eyes were forced to readjust as the pristine interior nearly blinded him. Clipping his lightsabers to his belt he made his way to his room on the ship.

"Eight." He muttered, a scoff erupting from him as he walked down the hall. The agitation was born from the realization that Alessandra was likely already awake. The Minister of War wanted to be showered and ready for the day by the time she rose. He paused for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose as he realized how smitten he was with the woman. Rather than focus on the thoughts he merely continued down to his room, eager to remove the layer of sweat he had earned from his training,

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: The Silent Winter [CIS Space] | Objective: Travel to Enos | Wearing: XXX | Tags: [member="Adron Malvern"] | Post: I


The Minister of Commerce had spent her morning as she usually did. A few simple techniques in clearing her mind along with a few basic stretching exercises to make up for having been in space for so long. On Geonosis, she was constantly on the move. Constantly headed from one place to the next she scarcely had time to get a cup of caf let alone to spare time for real training sessions. Most of which she practiced was muscle memory. Or a habit. Her days of striving for an abundance of strength in the Force had subsided with her desire to succeed in other arenas.

That didn’t mean that she wasn’t formidable. In no way, shape, or form should the Creed woman ever be underestimated.

From there she took a long, effortless, and luxurious shower. It was the best part of the day. Alessandra didn’t mind being trapped in a tin can, hurling through space, just as long as the water was still hot. The company wasn’t half bad either. [member="Adron Malvern"] had become somewhat of a fixture in her life. From the moment they’d first met, officially, during some CSA trading venture there had been some sort of pull. A draw. They attended event after event together…

But that was normal—wasn’t it? She’d attended events with the Minister of Science when the time called for it.

Rather than dwell on the connection she held to the Minister of War she got dressed for the day. The indulgence that the Silent Winter allowed was no less extravagant than her own everyday living. Alessandra could do without serving droids and modern conveniences, however, she didn’t see a need to. All of the clothing, the shoes, and the jewelry made a persona that she aimed to keep. It was just as important as the crimson lipstick she favored. It was startling, striking, and made it abundantly clear who was in charge.

When she was on her own, however, or in the presence of someone she trusted she tended to tone it down a little. Her raven hair, touched with hints of red, had been brushed until it turned to silk under the artificial lights. She left it down and it fell in gentle waves, flowed over slender shoulders, down to the middle of her back. She was dressed in a red, thick knit sweater dress that dropped to mid-thigh, with a pair of soft black boots that went up over her knee. It was warm, comfortable, and casual. At least, for Alessandra. She didn’t intend on walking around the ship all the time in a pair of stilettos.

She was a little surprised not to see Adron as she made her morning walk through the transport. It was a pretty big ship though. Made for at least thirty passengers—there were only two. About seventeen crew members, mostly droids, made up the rest of the faces she’d seen. “Ma’am.”, the organics greeted, often, getting out of her way in a hurry. Alessandra merely nodded her head and passed on a nigh-unreadable smile. It was neither cruel not kind.

The amethyst crystal that she always wore dangled freely about her neck as she walked into the dining hall. She sat in the same booth every day. It was circular with a perfect view of the stars. Alessandra ordered a cup of caf, a bowl of cream porridge, and a few blue biscuits. A data pad was brought to her and she began to flip through it, reading the best, and the worst of current trading prices as well as keeping up on current events. The Holo-Net was a cesspool sometimes, but, it had its uses.

She would be found there for quite some time, nursing a cup of hot caf, with her trademark lipstick leaving a faint half a kiss mark on the rim of the spotless white porcelain. The sweater was tugged low, wrapping around chilly hands, with the hem smoothed out over her lap. Alessandra carried the scent of blackberry and vanilla almost everywhere she went, and this morning, it would be no different. Mostly because she hadn’t brought anything else.

“May I top you off Minister?”, questioned the servant droid, holding a freshly brewed, steaming pot aloft.

“Please.”, she responded, setting the glass down, reluctant to let it go. Sometimes some parts of her got so cold on this ship. Other times it was the exact opposite. But, it was the same way in her office. Often she found herself freezing while her staff complained they were roasting. “Has Minister Malvern awoken?”

“Yes. He has been in the training area all morning and has recently retired to his quarters. Shall I send for him?”

Alessandra paused before shaking her head. No. As much as she would have wanted his company she didn’t want to interrupt. When it came to men like Adron, especially, men with something to prove she didn't want to interfere with his day to day routine. They’d been together nearly every day on the Silent Winter. And nearly every day before that. Perhaps he needed his space.

“Thank you.”

Her words were a sign of dismissal and the droid took a hint. It Adron wanted to come find her—he would.

 

[Adron Malvern]

The final rush of cool water fell over Adron’s back as his hand fell over the switch in the refresher’s shower. The water came to a gradual stop as a few stray beads fell over the top of his back. He despised the feeling of being covered in a thick layer of sweat, so now that he was free of that unclean feeling Adron let out a very relaxed sigh. Even when the air from the room hit him in cool rush he was entirely content. Having grown up in the cold he was most comfortable when his body had a decent chill to it, anything more than that was moving too close to hot for the Minister’s comfort.

He had spent a good bit of time in the shower, yet even more so preparing for the day to come. He saw to the continuation of his personal hygiene as he always did, in the same droid-like sequence that he followed each day. Like his counterpart he had become a bit more relaxed during the travel to Enos. Of course relaxed was an extremely relative term when it came to the pair.

For the day Adron was dressed in something more focused towards comfort, however it was no less regal than his usual clothing. Rather than take on one of the many expensive suits that he generally wore, the man pulled on a pair of dark blue trousers. The trousers bordered on being black, especially in the darkness of Adron’s room. Above the pants he wore a matching tunic that fell down to his knees. The middle of the tunic was fastened together with silver buttons which led into an ornate design covering the garments neck and shoulders. Even the sleeves to the tunic we're adorned in a similar design.

This morning Adron did not entirely fix his hair back as he normally did. He allowed a small bit of it to remain in its natural state which made him appear slightly older than usual.

Before leaving his room, Adron grabbed a small metallic case and his datapad. Stuffing the metal case in his pocket, he made his way out into the hall. The ship was still silent, which he approved of. As he strode through the halls he made his way to the dining hall. Alessandra and Adron had shared more than a few meals since the beginning of their trip, and he would not mind another.

Two of the metallic servant passed Adron and perhaps they offered some greeting, one that was largely ignored by the Minister. He did not have time for droids and their shallow greetings, it would have simply been a waste of time to acknowledge them.

Adron passed through the threshold leading into the dining hall. As expected Alessandra sat silently, her own attention connected to the datapad before her. Tucking the book he held underneath his arm, he made his way over to her. He held that same smile that he offered only to her. Oddly enough it was never one bred from enjoyment or some jaded sense of happiness. Instead it was one of fulfilment and satisfaction, something far more important to him. He eyes the raven haired beauty as he approached her and even anticipated the sweet scent that spilled from her presence.

He approached her, yet he did not speak until he finally stood over her. “We have a few more days until we reach Enos.” He stated, opening conversation before setting his book down on the table beside them. “Which means you get to enjoy a few more days of my company.”

Adron would move around Alessandra, making his way for the seat that sat on the corner beside her. His hand was partially outstretched as he sat down. There was an all too subtle shift in The Force as his book was lifted from the table and willed towards the man’s hand. “Speaking of company. We never did get to finish the evening we shared on Haseria.” The two had been enjoying quite an evening before it had been severely interrupted by an assassination attempt on Adron.

[member="Alessandra Creed"]

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: The Silent Winter [CIS Space] | Objective: Travel to Enos | Wearing: XXX | Tags: [member="Adron Malvern"] | Post: 2

Speak of the devil. It wasn’t more than twenty minutes later that she could feel a tang in the air that spoke of fluctuating energy. It was familiar, hardly overpowering, but still very much so drawing on the allure of the dark side. Adron was the only other person on the ship that held any sort of tangible power. Basic deduction told her he was walking through the arched doorway to the dining hall, but truly, she couldn’t have mistaken him in a room full of Force Users. He was different. His signature was different, and unlike her own, unhidden. “Good morning, Minister.”

Her voice was feathery and light as her eyes remained glued to her datapad. He spoke of the length of her trip and she nodded her head slowly. The Silent Winter was fast, that was true, but Geonosis was a fair distance from Enos. In lieu of making unnecessary hyperspace jumps, they simply enjoyed the trip. It had been too long since either one of them had completely separated business from their day to day routine. Taking the scenic route ensured that they had a few days to breathe. A vacation of sorts.

Alessandra still couldn’t help herself when it came to checking on the state of intergalactic finances but for the most part she tried not to keep her nose buried in work. The Minister of Commerce had trained her staff well. They could survive without her tendency to micro-manage for a little while. At least, they’d better, or heaven help them when she got back. No one would be safe if she had to follow after them with a dustpan like a mother chasing unruly children. “I think you mean that you get to enjoy a few more days of my company.”, she responded, clearly teasing, as the right corner of her crimson lips tilted upward. His smile was one of the few things she found herself content to enjoy without reproach.

The caramel-skinned woman moved some of her things out of the way so that he could sit comfortably. Adron brought up their ruined picnic on Haseria and something unspeakable in her eyes flickered. Alessandra was still a little unclear on who had suddenly decided to assassinate Adron—but she was far from happy about it. Her ire was an easy thing to light and the man that had tried shoot at them with extremely poisonous darts was lucky to be breathing. The only reason she’d refrained from intervening lay in the fact that the attempt was abruptly halted. Apparently, Mandalorians on any planet were gun-happy and territorial.

They hadn’t liked someone interrupting their party to try and kill a guest.

Realizing that her temper was rising just thinking about it the Creed woman pushed it to the back of her mind. Adron would still know that something was wrong. She’d been too silent, too long, and he knew her better than she wanted to admit.

“I wasn’t aware you wanted to.”

Alessandra set her datapad down and shifted her form toward his. A small shiver ran through her when she made contact with his warmth and she curled close. Her hand fell to his chest, as it often did, and her head came to rest delicately against his shoulder. “There.”, she intoned with a faint smirk, her right leg crossing neatly over her left, so that she could angle her body toward his. “Just like Haseria.”

Only no one was trying to kill them. Close enough.

Slender fingers played with the designs on the front of his clothing. For the first time in ages she felt as if she had chosen the wrong outfit. His hair was different, but, he was still every bit as formal as he ever was. Her mother was a Baroness on Brentaal IV and her father was considered the Lord of House Creed but they had never raised their children with that mindset. They were raised to be strong, responsible, and to never break. Adron was a Count. An actual royal. The differences in their breeding often showed. “I feel underdressed. Should I change?”

Again, she teased. No man with blood in his veins would ever tell her to change. Even though the red sweater dress was simple the way she wore it made it seem like something entirely different. The exposed areas of supple skin between the hem and the tops of her boots were minimal but there was something to be said for the allure of what couldn’t be seen.

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

A subtle mixture of pride and amusement flashed over Adron’s expression as he looked to the woman who sat beside him. “That's exactly what I said.” He teased her in return, a habit the two had formed and grown tired of.

His mentioning of Haseria had changed something. It was vague, yet noticeable for the man who prided himself in staying perceptive on what occurred around him. The silence was brief but it was ultimately broken when Adron felt Alessandra’s subtle touch upon his chest. It pulled him from a moment of inquiry his mind had gone into, thoughts of Haseria were mostly washed away as he looked over the woman who sat beside him.

Like a sweet melody her voice filled his ears and he was all too happy to drink it in. His eyes fell to the wardrobe she had taken on. It was a bit more casual than the level Adron would normally dress in, but he was not going to complain, much less request her change. His hand rose and his fingers gingerly pressed against her chin, almost as if analyzing the subtle features that marked her unmistakable beauty. “I see no faults.” His response was simple and left little to be said.

His hand fell and it came over her own before he eyed the woman closely, as if something was yet a miss. “No… “ he muttered. Adron glanced over Alessandra’s form before leaning forward to the point where their lips we're but inches from each other. He took a soft inhale, drinking in her scent as his eyes fell over. “There… Now it's just like Haseria.” He did not speak another word, instead he would close the distance between them, allowing their lips to meet.
[member="Alessandra Creed"]

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: The Silent Winter [CIS Space] | Objective: Travel to Enos | Wearing: XXX | Tags: @Adron Malvern | Post: 3

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”, she replied nonchalantly, curling closer, as her cheek nestled against him. Alessandra breathed in the subtle scent of him, earthen tones, and found the freshly showered notes grounding. Their endless banter had become somewhat of a staple and it really wouldn’t feel like the day had started without it.

There was a layer of something else beneath it all. Contentment. It was startling to realize. Alessandra had always thought herself happy so long as she maintained a busy schedule. She buried herself in numbers, contracts, and meetings. It never occurred to her that she might need something more than chance human interaction. She could feel him move, feel his fingers beneath her chin, tilting her head upward and she allowed it. He had never harmed her. Adron claimed not to see any faults and she laughed lightly when his hand fell away. “You’re just not looking close enough.”

As if on cue his gaze seemed to become more focused, filled with intent, versus stoic refinement. His hand fell over her own and Alessandra remained where she was. She breathed his air and felt unexpectedly light-headed as the expansive dining hall suddenly seemed infinitely smaller. She forgot about the droid that would no doubt return momentarily and a soft purr began to form in the back of her throat.

She should have hesitated. There should have been some sort of professional barrier that caused her to pull politely away. She couldn’t find it. Alessandra leaned forward and tilted her head to respond, breaking away from the close-mouthed, schoolyard kiss, to something far more divine. She wasn’t in the habit of lying to herself. Which meant, in the end, she couldn’t deny the attraction that was rather obvious to anyone who saw them together. Haseria had been almost perfect. Every pair had their moment, their time, and in some small way she’d wondered if that was it. If some random assassination attempt had blown it and the pedantic reminder of their duties kept them in line.

They’d been together near constantly—but not like this.

Alessandra moved just enough so that she could free her left hand and she reached up to touch his cheek. It was soft, fleeting, but filled with purpose. Her fingertips ran down, along his jaw, before sweeping up the back of his neck. Her hand flattened in a delicate caress before her nails drew down through his hair, teasing the top of his spine, before the high-necked collar of his shirt got in the way.

“Ministers—would you like a muffin? A cup of caf?”

 

[Adron Malvern]

Adron’s lips met Alessandra's and the Minister felt something that had been missing for many years, a connection. It was as if even The Force had parted to allow their connection to deepen into something more, something the man did not quite understand. His hand rose to wrap around the back of her neck, the soft impact of their lips drawing him far from the ship they had flown on. Her warm hand had pressed against his cheek as she drew from him, causing his eyes to examine every feature that crossed over her. Perhaps it was the moment they had shared, but now she seemed to glow in his eyes. They shared the gaze for a fleeting moment before it was broken by a metallic voice.




[SIZE=12pt]Though the droid spoke, Adron’s eyes never turned from the woman sitting next to him. However, the intrusion had obviously agitated the man, past the point of inaction. His ethereal hands dipped into The Force, commanding it to force it's weight upon the metallic being across the room. The droid let out an echoing wail as The Force bared down on him in a rapid impact. The force was too much, even for the refined metals that the droid was composed of. Before the Minister had barely blinked once again, the droid was replaced with a crude metallic ball.[/SIZE]


[SIZE=12pt]“I hate droids.” His tone was playful, yet there was no mistaking the frustration that occurred from the broken moment. Adron’s hand lingered upon her cheek before finally he released his touch. It was barely the next moment that all through the luxury starship a violent pull occurred. The starship had been unexpectedly and violently ripped from Hyperspace causing the entire ship to quake unnaturally. Adron, who had been edging closer to Alessandra, was nearly thrown away from his seat. Were it not for his grip on the Booth, he surely would have been thrown to the ground. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“What the hell?!” He demanded, his eyes narrowing as a loud alarm rang through the inner workings of the ship. The mindset of war never adjusted, for the ship to have such a violent shift could only mean one thing, an interdictor field. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]A snap-hiss erupted in the room as Adron’s violet blade had found itself taken from it's place under his garb. Immediately the man held a hand to the intercom beside him, calling up to the pilot’s cockpit. “This is Minister Malvern. What is going on?” Adron asked, his eyes locked on the doorway beside him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]There was a noticeable break before the intercom sounded off, the metallic voice of the pilot echoing through the room. “Sir. We were ripped out of Hyperspace and are headed for an uncharted pl-” The pilot’s voice was cut off as the lights within the ship began to flicker violently. The ship, which had a noticeable pull before noe, had given off the slightest hint of slowing down. Adron knew this could only mean one thing, they were entering the atmosphere. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt][member="Alessandra Creed"][/SIZE]

 

[Alessandra Creed]

Location: The Silent Winter [CIS Space] | Objective: Travel to Enos | Wearing: XXX | Tags: [member="Adron Malvern"] | Post: 4

It was comforting to realize that the Minister of War was just as bemused as she was. She could feel him in a way she hadn’t previously. Not a Force Bond, but, something new. As if for just a little while their self-imposed walls came down and they could simply exist as they were. A man and a woman on a ship, traveling, and reveling in one another’s company. His eyes fell to her own, perfect blue, bleeding into that of molten chocolate. So focused on the subtle details of his face, so tempted by his lips, she didn’t realize that the droid had returned until it spoke.

Alessandra could hear Adron taking out his frustration on the droid but didn’t bother looking away. Instead, she kissed him again, and again, each brush of crimson lips sweeter than the last. She wanted to pull him back into the flawless little world they’d created for themselves. “Forget about the droid--”

It was then that the ship shook and Alessandra was pushed away from the Serenno man and none too gently into the edge of the table. Pleasure had turned to pain in an instant as her ribs made contact and she hissed under her breath in lieu of issuing a curse that dangled on her tongue. “We’re not in hyperspace anymore.”, she murmured, her hand falling back to her side, absent-mindedly, trying to rub the discomfort away.

It didn’t take a genius too that they had entered real space. One look out the viewport told that story. Alessandra had come to the same conclusion as Adron—Interdictor. A planet pulling a ship out of hyperspace was so very, very rare. As the dining hall began to shake, almost unbearably, the raven-haired woman tapped into the Force to provide some stability to their situation. She kept herself glued to the booth and kept anything from flying in their faces.

She listened to Adron converse with the pilot and focused on the upraised lightsaber. It didn’t seem that they were being attacked. Could it really be just an accident? A dry laugh rolled in her throat despite the situation. Every time they kissed, or got close, something terrible happened. “If I were the superstitious type I would think that something doesn’t want us near each other…”

Realizing that the booth had emergency crash webbing behind the seats she sat back and pulled it free, wrapping it carefully around her form, before nodding to the Minister beside her. “You should strap in. Just in case.”

If the pilot couldn’t guide them out of the planet's gravity at their current speed it wasn’t likely there would be anything they could do about it. They just needed to prepare for a potentially bumpy ride and subsequent landing.

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

​How does this happen? The thoughts spilled into his mind as if released from some hellish floodgates. Was it sabotage? Someone reprogramming their pilot droid? It could even have been dumb luck to pull them from the safety of Hyperspace, however that was unlikely. The Minister's had traveled absent an escort or even anything to reveal them as a Confederate envoy, no one could know they where they were.

​Time did not permit musings on what had led them into the hands of this disaster, it had not even permitted a moment to look out of the viewport. His lightsaber receded back into it's host while the man moved quickly back to Alessandra's side. Clipping his lightsaber to his belt, he sat down beside her and pulled the safety webbing around his body much as she did. Adron did not speak, he was too busy focusing The Force around him and Alessandra, creating a protective cocoon to defend from the impending crash they were sure to suffer. Wishing he could at least anticipate the crash, his eyes were locked on the wall in front of him, only one thought finally coming to form words. "Someone is going to die for this."

​The impact was far worse than the man had expected. What had been the subtle press of gravity weighing the man against his seat had been traded in for an outright jerk forward, threatening to pull the man's neck from his spine. A horrid grinding sound screamed over the ship, drowning out all others, yet still it was nearly unheard by the Minister as his body was thrown into a moment of shock and confusion. His head rocked violently, and were it not for the shield of the Force he had casted over him, it would likely have come into contact with any of the superfluous items that had been thrown about the cabin. Whole cabinets were nearly ripped from their walls and several panels had come unhinged in what felt like some type of maelstrom. Though it felt like the crash had lasted for hours, in but a few minutes a sense of stillness was restored.

​A loud creak echoed through the ship, reaching from the deck all the way down the once pristine halls. Alarms and sirens went off through out the ship, and in many areas loose wiring gave off wild arcs, creating a continual snapping sound. The seat Adron and Alessandra had sat in had even come unhinged, yet to their luck it remained bolted to the ship's floor. Though the two sat at an awkward slant, it was quickly apparent they had survived.

​The Minister placed a hand on his head as an odd taste filled his mouth. He could not describe it, nor did he care to, his blood seemed to churn at a speed even a podracer would envy, drawing him away from any pain he may or may not have felt. His eyes fell to Alessandra and when he tried to speak it came out as a rather hoarse croak, quickly reverting to it's natural tone. "Al- Alessandra....?" He called out, his eyes struggling to refocus on the room around them. He grabbed the netting that had pressed into his body, leaving a series of intricate bruises, and after a few moments the netting had freed the man. A half step, half jump led the man to the uneven ground. His legs were unnaturally strong for how weak his torso had felt only a moment ago, yet that too was fading. The force was slowly washing over his pains and bringing his mind to a place of focus.

​The room was dimly lit due to most of the lights being ripped or broken in the crash. All that remained was a series of dimly lit hazard/emergency lights which painted the room in a tainting yellow. "We have to get out of here. If the fuel tanks are compromised they could leak right into the reactor." He said, turning back to Alessandra and holding a hand out to the woman. "Are you ok?" He asked, his eyes moving about the corridor, wary of whatever else could have been planned to follow their crash.
​[member="Alessandra Creed"]

​

 

[Alessandra Creed]

​

[member="Adron Malvern"]​

She could feel her head bouncing repeatedly off the back of the seat and her teeth smacked together hard enough that she thought they may have cracked. Alessandra didn’t feel sick but she did feel as if she might shake apart with the ship. Everything was spinning, the lights flickering, and to her credit, she swallowed a shout when they hit terra firma. The Minister of Commerce was left gasping for air that she couldn’t quite find. The crash webbing was too tight, pulled back by how the seat had come free from the wall, and it was digging into her flesh hard enough that it bled where her sweater didn’t protect her.

Her hands fumbled against the clasps when they stopped moving. She wheezed. The dark-haired woman could hear Adron but she couldn’t respond. She couldn’t draw enough breath to speak. So intent of freeing herself she didn’t pay any mind to anything else that hurt. Once victorious, her body fell limply, in a less than dignified heap. At first, she didn’t move. Then she coughed. Coughed, and coughed, until clots of red spattered up from her lungs. Chit.

Epicanthix bones were stronger than most but that didn’t do a thing against this kind of impact. Pressing her form up, with both palms on the glass littered floor, she tried to move. Her side felt like it was on fire. Moving her hand she found something strange and had to move painfully into a sitting position to actually gauge what was giving her such trouble. At first, chocolate eyes, flecked with cinnamon didn’t know what to make of it. She was too battered to understand.

Was that a…”—Butter knife?”

Did she seriously have a butter knife sticking out of her lower left quadrant? Son of a—

The ship creaked and the tanned Creed woman braced herself where she sat on the floor. Chit. A million unsightly curse words poured sluggishly through her skull. “Adron…”, she stuttered out through clenched teeth, before she reached up and took his hand, biting her tongue. He was right. Through the fog, she knew he was right. But the blast radius from the ship with the fuel hitting the reactor would be impossible to escape from on foot. “We need to get to cargo if it’s still there. E-Emergency vehicles. We don’t know where we are or what’s out there. Without supplies, comms, and a way to move quickly we’re already dead. T-There's also the crew...”

The luxury transport didn’t typically carry additional vessels such as small starships but it was made primarily for enjoyment. There would be large transports, landspeeders, for exploration stocked and ready for use. The ship had heavy shields. It was fast. Perhaps the shields would have protected the ship enough to leave it mostly intact upon impact. Was it possible that the damage looked worse than it actually was? Alessandra wasn’t sure.

The typically composed and svelte woman composed herself. She could deal with pain. She could deal with fear. She embraced both out of necessity. There would be no simple fix for the wound in her side, unless, the Minister of War had mastered some sort of healing ability. It was something that Alessandra had never been able to perform on herself and had only vague results when trying to treat others. Her strengths wrapped around more explosive abilities and mentalism. Fire. Illusions. Mayhem. None that which could possibly aid her here.

Wrapping her hand around the handle of the thin, dull bladed knife, she wrenched it free. Pain lanced through her being and she stiffened with her hand still wrapped around Adron’s. He would feel as if she were trying to cut off his circulation, perhaps, as if she might break his bones. Alessandra hadn’t been joking on Haseria. She was stronger than most humans, simply, because she wasn’t entirely human. There was a scream in her throat but she was too proud to let it free and instead she seemed to become stone. Blood darkened the red material of her sweater rapidly. She moved forward and yanked down a panel of silken fabric that was tattered from the crash.

It was dirty, but, it would do the trick. She released the Serenno man momentarily to wrap the material around her waist tightly, binding the small injury, before she began to head down the corridor. The floor was marked with colored lines that would lead them to the right place.

A few steps later would find her hand searching for Adron again. She wasn’t scared. The daughter of Gunther Creed did not fear anything this mundane. But, she held his hand nonetheless.

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

When Adron saw the knife protruding from Alessandra’s side he gave off a shallow glare, directed at the small metallic utensil. He had tried to protect them from any items flowing through the cabin, but his focus had been compromised many times during the crash. As Alessandra spoke, Adron nodded at her words, finding the sense behind them without any reason to disagree “Yes, and medical supplies.”

Alessandra took hold of the knife and her grip on his hand tightened, almost to the point where Adron felt the blood in his hand become trapped. Once she had dressed up the wound with an improvised bandage the two began to make their way down the halls of the ship. It was obvious the ship was not resting on it’s belly, instead it had landed at some awkward angle that made moving from hall to hall a little more difficult. Pulling his commlink from his belt, there was a noticeable breeze that seemed to fill the hall.

“The ship must be compromised. Maybe we can get a view of the terrain.”

The commlink in his hand remained dim, showing that there was no communications line for if to feed off of. The ships communications tower must have been damaged. “I'm not getting any comms. The relay was at the back of the ship near the cargo bay, if we can get it working we-” The turn from one hall to the next caused Adron to pause, his frustrations growing as the metal hallway was replaced with a large, almost breathtaking view. The front portion of the ship had been literally ripped from the rest of their transport, leaving a gaping hole where they stood.

“Of course.” He hissed, narrowing his eyes before glancing over to Alessandra. It appeared that their portion of the transport had landed on some form of mountain range. From their raised view, he could see the rear of the ship in the far distance, or at least he could see the smoking bellowing from it. Realizing there would be no risk of explosion, Adron gestured back down the hall. “Let’s go find you a medical kit.”
[member="Alessandra Creed"]

 

[Alessandra Creed]

​

[member="Adron Malvern"]​

Alessandra couldn’t respond to Adron for a few long moments. She agreed with what he’d said, but, she just couldn't. It took everything she had to keep from swaying on her feet. She hadn’t lost a lot of blood, it seemed, but enough to make her feel awful. Or perhaps it was the crash itself? Hitting her head off the back of the seat so much? A concussion? Bone bruising? She really didn’t know anything else save for the fact that she was both heavier and more durable than most near-humans. Heavier.

They really couldn’t afford for her to faint. She would slow Adron down. So, she would use the pain to stay awake. Every now and again she would twist the cloth wrapped around her midsection, pulling it tighter, as if it needed to be adjusted. It was a temporary solution. Very, temporary.

Some of her hopes were dashed when his comm remained dead. The planet that they had crashed one was a sight to behold. Full of beautiful colors and exotic flora and fauna. She was well-versed in the geography of many planets due to the efforts of her Father in educating her mind but this one didn’t ring a bell. There shouldn’t have been a planet here that was capable of pulling them out of their hyperspace route—but here it was. There was no evidence of an attack. Just a crash.

“It’s like nothing I’ve ever s-seen.”

Her voice was quiet. Softer than it usually was. The typically warm, velvet purr, lacked some of its sinful allure and was instead replaced with exhaustion. It was unsteady as it never was. When he turned to head back into their portion of the ship she stumbled over a piece of debris but managed to stay upright. Waves of dark hair hid her expression. “The g-galley might have s-something. Or the staff quarters. There m-might be other survivors.”

If they’d managed to strap in before the worst of it. Inertia alone could have killed most of them. They’d been spared, mostly, because they’d been using the Force to try and protect themselves. To try and keep the ship from shaking apart. Or crushing completely into the ground, immediately, upon impact. They could do many things with their abilities, yet, they could not keep their starship from breaking apart. How ironic. They’d survived so much only to land in this backwater waste.

Her teeth began to chatter as they walked every now and again. Alessandra knew without the aid of any instruments that her temperature was dropping. Both from shock and blood loss. Her mind flickered through possibilities. It depended on what the medkits had in them? Hopefully a stabilizing agent and new-skin without bacta. But, that would be a miracle.

“I could also use a c-change of clothes. I think the uniforms are stored nearby. N-Need something to get around in and t-this won’t work for long.”

Through the distressed ship they went. It was in shambles resting oddly, but, it seemed mostly intact. The staff quarters were depressingly empty. Bloody fingers searched the more obvious places for the med kit and eventually, she saw the white pack with the bright red plus sign on it. It was lucky, but, she didn’t feel at all relieved. She sank down to the ground, with her back against one of the sideways bunks, and just closed her eyes for a minute. Just…

Breathing in deeply she forced herself to wakefulness by pressing her hand against the knot the drapes made against her wound. That woke her. “Try and find something in my size. There were a few female crew members o-on board. S-Something sensible while I…start d-dealing with this. A monkey could use the s-scanner…”

The posh sweater-dress that she’d been wearing was in tatters now. More than that she would either have to cut through it, pull it up, or pull it down. Alessandra had undergarments beneath it, but, she was still cognizant enough to be stubborn. If Adron was ever to see her like this—She didn’t intend for there to be a gaping hole in her side. The Creed woman opened the pack and pulled out the diagnostic scanner. The screen was a little cracked but it still seemed to work.

She read the user-friendly interface and swore under her breath. The blunt knife had gone straight between the cartilage of several broken ribs. Thankfully, it hadn’t punctured a lung, and the angle was at a downward slant. A pneumothorax was not something they were equipped to handle. No hollow viscera damage, no enzymes leaking, no risk of septicemia…But there was decent sized laceration on her liver with massive bruising. She was lucky it had been a butter knife. A real knife would have gone clear through. The diagnostic device was calculated for a human. Not a hybrid. It started beeping, shrilly, as the treatment plan spilled across the screen.

Chit.

Bacta injections or immediate surgical repair. Alessandra swallowed hard as her jaw tightened. The chances of suturing the wound and leaving the laceration to heal on its own left her with a thirty-nine percent survivability rating. It would be a slow death, according to the notes. A slow, sluggish, internal bleed. With bacta and bacta salve atop the wound, it was raised to over ninety-eight percent. There was only one problem.

Alessandra was highly allergic to bacta in all forms. It was like poison in her veins that sent her into anaphylactic shock so quickly that she’d nearly died as a child. She’d broken her arm and naturally, a bacta sling had been placed on her injury to repair it. It was what most wealthy parents did. Gingerly, she started searching through the rest of the kit and found several shots of concentrated adrenaline and epinephrine. It made sense. Tourists and diplomats traveling to foreign worlds could react negatively to their surroundings…

The Minister of Commerce was at a loss. It was possible to use what they had but she didn’t know what the best step forward was. The diagnostic device could only help so much. “Adron…”, she murmured his name, before realizing that her voice was barely a whisper. Her throat was dry. Eyes, tired. Head so very heavy.

~…Adron…~

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

[member="Alessandra Creed"]​

​

The halls were growing more and more silent. The stray crackling of electricity was beginning to die out and the ship itself had begun to settle against the mountain it had crashed into. While the ship itself still maintained an odd angle it had not shown any signs of sliding or rocking, which meant they were solidly planted. At least they were for the moment, Alessandra spoke as they moved down the halls. Her tone had lost some of it's honeyed accent and instead was far more basic, not lacking it's natural allure yet noticeably straight forward. In some time they found the staff's quarters and the two searched for anything of use, namely medical supplies for their injuries. Adron had begun to notice a pressure bearing down on his chest. It was something he would have to ignore for now, he doubted there would be anything to help that.

Turning to Alessandra he saw she had slumped onto the ground, her back braced against one of the crew bunks. He noticed her zone out for the briefest of moments and his eyes narrowed at her as he approached her, kneeling by her side.

When Alessandra asked for Adron to find something for her to wear, he nodded before eyeing her for the briefest of moments. "Fine, I'm sure there are a few uniforms in your size. Ships like this usually keep plenty of spares anyway."

Making his way over to a nearby wall locker that had been turned on it's side, he opened the door and noticed several uniforms clumped into a messy pile on the bottom of the locker. It took Adron a moment but he finally found both a shirt and pair of pants that should fit Alessandra. It was made of rough, uncomfortable materials but it would be better than running around in the nude. Besides, it would likely be better for moving about in general, especially if they had to leave the ship.

When Adron glanced back over to Alessandra it was because he believed he had heard the woman call his name. "Ale-"

Kark!

Adron dropped the clothes and turned back to the woman, his voice rising to shock her out of her stupor. "Wake up! Alessandra!" He looked to the scanner in her hands, taking it into his own and reading the diagnosis closely.

"Oh hell...." He muttered, before glancing around. Adron was knowledgeable to the woman's fatal allergy. In the past he had mused over the extreme difficulty it would be to treat the woman outside of civilization due to it's massive overdependency on bacta solutions. There was not time to search for an alternative kit, nor were their any healers on board the ship. Adron took the medical kit into his hand, all the while keeping his eyes on the shallow rise and fall of Alessandra's chest. "Still alive."

From the kit, Adron produced an epi needle hoping to get her heart rate back up. The injection was fast and ill-calculated, yet he knew time was of the essence. As he injected the epinephrine into the woman, his voice called out to her. "Alessandra! Get up, now!"

 

[Alessandra Creed]

​

[member="Adron Malvern"]​

“Find me something not ugly.”

The Minister feigned a response that would have been typical. She hoped that it would reassure him. Adron was looking at her too long, too closely, and she could see his concern. The results of the diagnostic scanner were clear. She felt it slipping from her fingers but he was suddenly there, calling her name, telling her to wake up. “I’m awake. I’m here.”

She was drifting still. Alessandra tried to focus and felt frustration when she couldn’t. She reached for the scanner and her fingers touched the edges but fell away. Her expression was soft. Distressed. She didn’t know how to mitigate this and pain plus blood loss was clouding her judgment. Part of her wanted to forget the device, treatment, or whatever it was that was required. She had things that she needed to tell him. He needed to hear. “A-Adron I…”

The raven-haired beauty began to slip again. She jerked back to wakefulness when the Minister of War jammed a needle into her body and the solution surged through her veins like fire. She gasped, feeling as if her lungs were too large and her vision fluttered. Her head tilted to the side. The epinephrine or adrenaline, whichever had been used, would keep her conscious for a little bit longer. “Y-You can try the bacta injections…They’ll heal the w-wound. But I won’t be able to breathe. Time the others…U-Use them afterward when it seems like I stop b-breathing…”

“It might w-work.”

She would also be sick, weakened, for a long time afterward. Alessandra would be a burden to him while stranded on an unknown world. She didn’t know what else to do if she actually wanted to live. The thought of bringing him down, of making him look after her, was just as awful. More than anything she just wanted the pain to stop. The longer she stayed there the worse it seemed to get. From a dull ache to a searing throb with every beat of her heart. “I-I can’t heal.”

She couldn’t. She’d tried. On others, she could mend small injuries through Dark Transfer but she couldn’t help herself. It just wasn’t a skill she possessed. She could make fireballs all day. She could blow a starship into millions of pieces. But she couldn’t stitch flesh together.

Alessandra reached for the bacta injections. The scanner said she would need at least two. The raven-haired woman was pale, her breathing shallow, but still mostly alert. She reached for Adron and wrapped his hand around the injections. Her eyes found his and her expression softened immeasurably. They followed the lines of his face. It wasn’t the first time she’d seen him…But there was something about him now that left her feeling almost guilty. For an allergy that she couldn’t help. “O-Or…You can wait and see…T-Thirty-nine percent is s-still a chance.”

“I-I trust you.”

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

[member="Alessandra Creed"]​

​

Even in the face of death Alessandra had lost none of her whit. When finally she responded to Adron the man exhaled in relief. There had been a momentary worry as the woman seemed to slip from consciousness. Yet the shot of adrenaline (which is what he totally gave her) had worked and now the two were tasked with dealing with the woman's wounds once again. As Alessandra began to speak again Adron contorted his face when she said he could use the bacta on her. "Have you lost your mind?" He asked, before cursing and looking down to the medical kit once again.

"Might...." He repeated, taking the contents out of the medical kit and tossing it on the ground to his side. Adron thought to his own abilities to heal and quickly shook the thought away. In the past Adron had shown he had very capable abilities when it came to saving a waning life, however it was a power he had no capacity to control. For years the man had attempted to master the technique and each time had failed worse than the last. Through the Force he could see wounds as they existed in the nether of the Dark Side, able to bend and break these connections to heal himself and others. However, many times he had shattered a connection and nearly killed someone, sometimes himself.

"Alessandra..." He said, watching as she took the bacta injection into her hands. Her allergy to the medicine was possibly the most inconvenient thing about their situation. Were it not a factor, she would likely already be on the road to recovery, but this was a step they could not skip. She placed the bacta into his hand, and with it a weight that was somehow far more than any he felt he had ever shouldered.

His heart skipped wildly as she spoke and the man was unsure of what to do. "Alessandra....I....you're going to be fine. I'm going to fix you, I promise." He swore, leaning forward and allowing his lips to meet hers for the briefest of moments. "Ok. I'm going to inject you with the bacta....Just relax." He told her, pulling on the bit of cloth she had fashioned into a bandage. Once the wound was exposed, Adron took a moment to look at Alessandra before the needle slid into the wound. "Nothing is going take you...." He muttered, feeling an all too grim sense of nostalgia. He felt as if something was pulling at his life, threatening to take a piece of him with it.

"Not again."

Adron injected the bacta, watching the woman closely and preparing the first Epinephrine pen. He knew that he had to be precise in his time with the medicine, or else they could run out and she would die. The only catch was there was no guarantee there would be enough Epinephrine to begin with, Force knows.

"Not again..." Adron repeated, silently to himself.

 

[Alessandra Creed]

[member="Adron Malvern"]​

Adron asked if she’d lost her mind and she laughed before it turned into a cough, and her expression became a delicate grimace. It was clear that she was trying to not show how much pain she was actually in. From the jokes about clothing to her flippant attitude, she was trying to appear normal. Eventually, that façade would fade. She simply didn’t have the presence of mind to keep pretending. “I-I’m being practical Adron. You know it’s t-true.”

She wished she could keep her breath from hitching. That she could keep her voice from shaking. Alessandra hated this weakness. Especially, before this man, whom until now, she had always appeared perfect in the eyes of. Now he knew she was flawed. Truly. He eyes closed as she swallowed a combination of pain and humiliation. Out of all of the things in the galaxy that could have killed her she was furious that it was something so plebian. A butter knife?

Sure the ship had crashed. Sure, items were flying around at an extremely high velocity…But seriously? A blunt, dull, butter knife? Embarrassing.

“It’s a-alright…”, she murmured, feeling the change, as the gravity of the situation sunk in. The way he spoke her name made her eyes sting. Tears refused to fall. A Creed did not cry. Not for anything. If the bacta killed her she would not tarnish her family in the process. “Don’t make promises you m-might not be able to keep…”

He kissed her. If it were any other time or any other moment she would have leaned into him in a heartbeat. Alessandra would have wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him down to the floor with her. Instead…Her lips were soft when she kissed him back, as best she could, knowing what would come next. It took everything she had not to pull away from the bacta injection. It was poison.

Her eyes closed so she wouldn’t see it. Wouldn’t know when it was coming. Her teeth ground together as she felt the needle and her hands shook at her sides. Adron promised her again. This time that nothing would take her. She wished she could believe it. “I’m sorry.”

What was she sorry for? There wasn’t time to explain. Her form went rigid and her eyes rolled back. Searing fire, or what felt like flame, emanated from her side. It pulsed outward and she tried to hold on as long as she could. She tried to stay aware as long as she could but minutes after the bacta was injected her lungs seemed to seize. She gasped, but she couldn’t draw in any air, and her hand came up reflexively to claw at her throat.

Adron would have to watch as she choked on what seemed to be nothing.

She hoped there was enough of the epinephrine or adrenaline to keep her going. Enough to restart her heart if needed. Eventually, her senses started to fail. She couldn’t see, couldn’t hear, and couldn’t feel anything but the bacta rolling and burning through her insides. When she passed out, without access to a proper medical bay, or any real anesthetics, it was a cross between pain and an inability to breathe that did her in.

The world went dark. It was up to Adron, now.

[Feel free to skip ahead….]

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

[member="Alessandra Creed"]​​

​

It felt as if Adron was in a never-ending cycle of hell. The first few hours after Alessandra had been injected were the worst. Most of her time was spent convulsing and going into flashes where she appeared unable to breath. These bouts were handled with rationed injections of epinephrine but it did not make the time pass any faster or relieve Adron's mind. He had moved Alessandra to one of the ships bunks and covered her in a thin, warm blanket as the night time air flowed through out the ship. He had taken a few moments to go and search nearby cabins for rations or more medical supplies. In the end all he had found was a small box with a few packets of jerky and some spare water bottles in what was left of the training hall. Aside from his exploration there was not a moment when he was away from Alessandra.

Sitting with his back to a nearby bunk Adron looked to Alessandra with a slightly tired expression on his face. He looked down to the medical kit that sat empty near his feet. It had been almost a whole day since Adron injected Alessandra yet they ran out of medicine some time ago. He was able to preserve Ale's stability using The Force in a manner he was far from used to, of course this led to a sense of exhaustion that was starting to push over the man.

Rather than wait to drift into sleep Adron stood up and looked over the small pile of supplies he had found. There were a few packets with white tablets within them. Adron looked to the packets for a longing moment before tearing one open and taking the tablet inside. Simple caf pills meant to give soldiers an extra boost. Nothing that would invigorate him but it would be good enough for now. "Things always seem to go bad." He muttered, looking around the room and taking in their situation. Although they had been on this planet almost an entire day they were no closer to knowing where the hell they had crashed much less how to get off the world.

Running a hand over his hair he felt a few stray strands that would not rest to the crown of his head like the rest of his hair. He plucked a few of the stray strands out and looked down at them. The first two were as he expected and a deep raven black, yet the third one caused him to stare at it as if it was progressively growing a head. The third hair was a streaked silver that actually managed in making Adron's day a bit worse. Kark.

Tossing the hairs on the floor, Adron moved back to Alessandra and placed a soft hand on her cheek to gauge her bodies temperature. Some of the color in her skin seemed to be returning, though she was far from well. Her breathing, still a bit ragged, was holding up which meant the bacta was beginning to be purged from her systems. Of course there was no telling the long term effects this could have on the woman or if she would not have another relapse. Adron truly hoped not, he knew he could only keep death from her door for so long. With the little bit of medical experience he had there was no more he could do but sit and wait.

 

[Alessandra Creed]

[member="Adron Malvern"]​

Blissful dark was the only thing Alessandra knew for what felt like forever. She had moments of lucidity but it blessedly rarely lasted. The entirety of her body ached. She felt as if she had been trampled by a full herd of four-legged creatures and left for dead. It was the feeling of something warm on her cheek that roused her from the murky depths of emptiness. She hadn’t dreamed. She couldn’t really remember the rise and fall of the sun. She couldn’t remember the air growing cold. A small sound escaped her, not a whimper, but more of a gentle groan. “………”

If she said something it was completely lost in the silence of the cabin. Slowly but surely she stirred beneath the blanket that had been tucked carefully around her form. Her hand caught Adron’s when he checked her temperature and she pressed it back against her cheek. There was a rattling in her breathing that didn’t sound entirely natural, a distinct wheezing, but her eyes did flutter open briefly. Chocolate orbs focused on the face of the Minister of War and a pale smile tugged at the edges of her lips. She tried for humor. It didn’t entirely sound right. “Don’t look so sad…”

Her eyes closed as she kept his and nuzzled into it. He was so warm. She felt so cold. Alessandra didn’t bother trying to move any more than she already had. Adron was one of the few things that she kept close. Everything else, her day to day routine, revolved around work or looking after her particularly wayward newfound sibling. Her body shuddered, not a seizure, just an involuntary twitch of muscles that caused her to wince. She felt like chit. Absolutely, chit.

“H-How long…How long was I out?”

From the glimpse, she’d made to their surroundings they were still in the not entirely destroyed crew quarters. Adron must have flipped and adjusted one of the bunks so that it was usable. Irritation flooded her as the memory of the crash returned. It didn’t make any sense. Slowly, she tried to sit up as much as she could. Her midsection still burned and ached, but, it was far from the blinding agony she had felt before.

She was still wearing the red sweater that was caked in dried blood and she made a face. The raven-haired woman reached through the hole that had been left behind and sighed quietly when she felt mostly smooth skin. The bacta hadn’t been able to completely erase all signs of the injury but it had closed the wound. Her free hand moved and it pulled the diagnostic scanner from the floor. It telekinesis was uncharacteristically weak. The unit dragged, versus lifting, and she almost scowled at it.

Eventually, she would have to wait for Adron to lift it for her or grab it herself. It was the internal tearing and bleeding that had been the true problem. So long as she had been able to survive the bacta enough for that to repair itself, in theory, she should heal the rest of the way on her own. Alessandra only wished that her limbs didn’t feel like uncooked pasta. “Have you found anyone else?”

The question was practical. To her credit, her voice remained steady, and the small victory pleased her. Alessandra didn’t want to think about how things could still go south. She was awake, moving, but that didn’t mean her bacta allergy wouldn’t creep back up on her. Only time would tell.

The diagnostic device, cracked screen and all, went through several modes before it began to scan per person again. It took a moment but the results were surprisingly favorable as far as the wound itself went. The rest of her bodily systems were another story. Her immune system was compromised, white blood cell count was extremely high, and she had definite signs of exhaustion. Alessandra set the scanner down in her lap and leaned back against the wall tiredly. She’d slept for so long but it didn’t feel like she’d gotten any rest at all.

Regardless, she was stable. That meant she needed to get cleaned up and they needed to move. They’d already wasted enough time. Once again, she reached for Adron, and her fingers found his collar. She tugged him close and rest her cheek against his shoulder. Just for a second.

Just a few seconds of warmth, of feeling him close, so that she could find her center. He grounded her in ways he didn't realize. She drew in a deep breath before releasing it slowly. Soon...Very soon they needed to begin trying to figure out where the hell they’d crash landed and how to get off this rock.

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

[member="Alessandra Creed"]​

​

Just as Adron started to pull his hand back he felt a cool hand wrap around it. Looking back to Alessandra he saw that she had taken hold of his hand. Watching as her eyelids parted to reveal those beautiful eyes he had come accustomed to a tired smile came to his face. She still held a bit of her whit, taking a bit of edge off of the conversation. Moving closer to her he spoke, he cleared his throat hoping to bring a bit of moisture back into it. "You should be focused on getting better, not talking." When Alessandra asked how long she had been out he took a moment and glanced into the hall. He could see the flecks of light that were spilling into the hall and turned back to her.

"About a day." He told her, not having too much distress in his voice.

He watched as she pulled at her sweater, noticing that it had a small crusting of dried blood covering it near the wound. "We'll get you changed soon. I found you some clothes. Not quite your standard, but they seem warm." He told her gesturing to a duffel bag that held a few sets of clothes. He had found another set that was Alessandra's size as well as a set for himself in case his own garb got to be destroyed or in need of replacing. When she asked about any others Adron glanced over to the hall, he had found about ten people thus far and their status was far worse than Alessandra's. "Bodies, here and there. None of the droids are even functioning right." He huffed, before leaning down to grab the diagnostic scanner that she had been dealing with. He held it out to her with a soft smile.

While she spoke her voice seemed to harden, returning more to her older state. "Alessandra, we have to leave soon." He told her. Adron hated that they had to move and he knew he was not strong enough to carry her, not yet. For now she would have to move with his aid and he knew the trek through the ship would be the easiest thus far. As her hands dipped into the collar of his shirt he wrapped his arms around her. There was a moment, a single warm moment where Adron was able to breathe a sigh of relief. It seemed that Alessandra had drifted out of the worst and was moving towards recovery.

"I went to the back of the ship. There's no way to get down from there, especially not in your condition. Good news is I think we can get out of the cockpit." Adron went into the bag near Alessandra's bunk, pulling out the uniform and handing it to her. "I couldn't find another medical kit but I did find some more bandages." Grabbing the duffel bag, Adron walked over to the food he had collected and slid the rations into the bag with an agitating sigh. "Once we're out of the ship you should try to eat something."

 

[Alessandra Creed]

[member="Adron Malvern"]​

“Don’t boss me…”, she murmured out, the words followed by a cough, and a dry laugh. Alessandra felt a small frown cross her features at hearing how long she’d been asleep. That was too long. The raven-haired beauty leaned back against the bunk at an angle. Adron seemed to notice her fidgeting with the crunchy pieces of her sweater and her previously small frown deepened. For once her lips wore a shade other than crimson. A shade of rosewood or pink but definitely not blood red. “That’s too long.”

Sitting still, sometimes, was the worst thing when being stranded. Lots of self-help holo-docs suggested staying near to the crash site. Alessandra could agree. If the world was empty and there was clean water and a source of food nearby—Sure. When little heathen backwater natives could arrive at any moment with pitchforks and spears? When the starship was a structural hazard? It was time to go.

Regardless her opinion on the ridiculously low thread count of the uniforms of the hired help she would take anything other than feeling so sticky. “It’ll do.”, she responded, holding her hand out toward the duffel bag, expecting it to come at her call—But it didn’t. Her elegant brow creased and her fingers extended again. Nothing. Not so much as a twitch. The Force wasn’t directly tied to physical strength but there was something to be said for being mentally exhausted. Alessandra, despite sleeping all day, was well past that point. “Can you hand that to me too?”

She hated asking for help. Hated it. His soft smile when he handed her the scanner made her scowl. Bodies? He’d found only bodies? There had been far too many crew on board for no one to have survived unless none of them had been able to secure themselves. The droids, not a surprise, but it was certainly unfortunate. The tanned woman leaned forward when she felt warm arms wrapping around her, chasing away the chill she so hated, and she held close for as long as she dared.

He was right. They needed to leave.

A brief moment of physical comfort, cut all too short by necessity, and they were back to shop talk. Adron filled her in on everything she’d missed. He’d found some rations, some water, and bandages, and warm clothing. It wasn’t bad, all things considered, but it wouldn’t last. He suggested that she eat once they got out of the ship and she felt immediately guilty. She should eat? What about him? Typically, men burned more calories than women. Alessandra pointedly ignored it. “There should be more than this…Especially if the crew didn’t make it.”

Harsh words from sweet lips. It was true, however. They were stocked for galactic travels not a picnic in the backyard. There should have been a fully stocked medical bay, likely destroyed, but something could have survived. Her mind was swirling as she tried to remember the placement of the cargo bay. A flash of seeing part of the starship pretty far away, through an opening, made her remember that the impact hadn’t been clean. Swearing lightly under her breath she swung her legs down from the bunk.

Everything moved. Her entire body swayed as blood rushed to her head and her eyes closed immediately to ward off the feeling of being ill. She bent at the waist, wincing from the dull ache that still existed in her side, but somehow managed not to lose the lunch she hadn’t eaten. “We should pack up as much as we can carry. Blankets. Anything to help with temporary housing. We don’t know what this world is like…”

Alessandra was suggesting that they scavenge the entirety of the ship. She wasn’t certain how much ground Adron had covered alone, but realistically, she couldn’t see him going too far when she may or may not have gone into cardiac arrest at any moment. She was already making a mental list of things to look for. Glow rods, liquor, weapons, perhaps some of the shattered mirror… Ale was trying to remember all of the survival lessons that her Father had given her. At the moment, it was hard enough to stay awake, let alone make a plan to stay alive.

It also occurred to her that neither of them would be able to carry much. Not while she could barely sit up. Frustrated, she held her face for a moment, before releasing an uncharacteristic curse. It was neither in basic nor anything the Minister of War would have readily heard. Gathering herself, bit by bit, she decided to tackle one problem at a time.

First, she needed to get out of this bunk. And out of these clothes.

“Give me a moment to change. The machine says my wound is mostly closed so I should be fine.”

Her voice was far steadier than she would have thought it to be. If anything, she seemed like the Minister of Commerce, and not some poor chit that had nearly been done in by a butter knife. Alessandra accepted the clothing that Adron had found and began to root through it. Horrible, ugly, and garish—but functional. She had to stop herself from sneering at it.

Once Adron had his back turned, or left the immediate area, she set about to getting dressed. She used just enough water to get the old blood away from her abdomen so she could see it clearly. There was a thin line from the knife. It couldn’t really be seen, but she could feel it, much to her distaste. From there she pulled on the clothing that had been found from a sitting position. It almost fit. Not quite.

Alessandra felt like a homeless vagrant.

She pulled her dark hair back and braided it simply enough just to keep it out of her eyes. For a moment, she waited, listening to the sounds of the broken starship creaking, before she tried to get up again. Her legs didn’t want to cooperate. Nothing did. She was incensed. She hated feeling weak. Hated it.

Her stubbornness made itself apparent when she refused to call Adron back for help. She’d picked up the rucksack with some difficulty, considering it was wider than she was, and used the wall to guide her way across the debris. “Ready when you are….”, she called, doing her best, not to wheeze under the pressure from the bag.

She refused to be defeated by a blasted butter knife.