Public No Quiet Escape- [Gala]

[Braze]

TAGS: Zee Caromed | Open

​

Braze had been spending his days in quiet escape, wrapped up in the company of his new love interest, a Mandalorian medic by the name of Zee Caromed . Their wandering had carried them from world to world with no real fixed destination, chasing the simple pleasure of getting lost together as Zee did what Zee did best.

One such detour brought them to the planet Gala, where their ship needed refueling before they could drift further along the trade lanes. A short stop, or so it seemed for time enough to top off their reserves and gather a few groceries for the journey ahead. Yet the moment they set down in Galu's bustling starport, it was clear the planet was far from peaceful. Rumors of sickness whispered through the denizens, and the tension in the air hinted that their errand might draw them into more than just resupply.

The warning sirens hit before they had even finished arranging payment with the dockhands. Red lights strobed across the bay as a clipped voice rang out over the intercom:

⚠ SYSTEM WARNING: Unauthorized craft inbound, shields up! Terminal lockdown engaged.

Panic set in instantly. Dockworkers dropped cargo, scattering for cover as the first blast struck a freighter down the line, rocking the concourse with fire and smoke. A pirate shuttle dropped hard into the next berth, its hatches already kicking open. Armored raiders poured out with blasters raised, cutting down anyone too slow to run.

The small crowd surged around them, shoving, screaming and trying to get to cover. A dockhand was pinned under a collapsed cargo stack, others injured in the chaos and the chaos was everywhere, and there was no slipping quietly away from it now.

Blaster fire chewed through the cargo stack overhead, sending sparks raining down.

Braze moved without hesitation, stepping into the open as his chalcedony-teal blade flared to life. The first volley lit the air, only to crash against the saber's arc in a spray of deflected fire.

"Trouble's never far behind, is it?" he quipped over his shoulder, then tipped his chin toward the dockhand pinned under the cargo stack. "Think you can get to him while I keep their attention?" He briefly wondered which pack of pirates these may have been, his thoughts slipping to 0-7 .

 

[TK Olraen]

intercom:

⚠ SYSTEM WARNING: Unauthorized craft inbound, shields up! Terminal lockdown engaged.

TK spent the short jump to Gala in her ready room, reading policy manuals and Fallanassi scripture.

For a group that specialized in answering distress calls, the Initiative's protocols for pirate attacks were fairly bare-bones, recognizing that captains needed the flexibility to handle danger while preserving their ships and crews. TK had discretion here but not much guidance. Gala was an Outer Rim planet and its spaceport couldn't necessarily count on armed support. As a pacifist, armed support was the last thing TK wanted to be. But she'd found a way to save lives in many situations like this. The moment tended to offer its own solution.

She closed her books and came back onto the bridge to take her seat.

"When we decant to realspace," she said, "full spectrum scans, loud active sensors. We want to be seen as much as we want to see."

The Pathfinder frigate left hyperspace and scanned for all it was worth. A picture of the embattled spaceport came up, and markers for the locations of civilian and aggressor ships in the planet's vicinity. Right now the violence appeared to be concentrated at the spaceport and no pirate vessels were close by. Nothing started coming their way.

The complex situation distilled down to a pretty simple one. She ordered the ship cloaked, hoping to give the pirates some degree of incentive to leave quickly. Then the invisible frigate tipped down into the clouds.

---

TK deployed in an armored space suit (unarmed of course) with search-and-rescue medical droids. They ranged out rapidly through the port to render assistance. This was still the early stages of the attack. The frigate had been very close.

A droid in tow and a medpack over her shoulder, TK went looking for the people in most immediate need. They followed the sound of blasterfire.

Braze Zee Caromed

 

[TK Olraen]

Double post

 

[Zee Caromed]

Braze

Zee gave an affirmative shout, because he was already in motion. The medic's ever-present armorweave bag and the green sash denoting him as a member of the Life-Bearer's Guild were almost always on hand, and at least in the case of the former, contained his medical vambraces. He was quick to slip them on, running for the man pinned beneath the rubble.

Zee gave no thought to his defense. He trusted that to Braze, to his own Matukai-enhanced hardiness, and to his lotek'k jacket. Either could handle most blaster fire. He was more concerned with figuring how how to get boxes off of man without breaking things even worse than they might already be. In motion, he snapped up a metal pole and drove it into the gap between the boxes and the floor - leveraging them upwards to relieve some of the pressure. From there it was considerably easier to slide the injured man out from under the rubble with a bit of effort. Unfortunately, lifting the box prompted what seemed like a flood of blood.

Gloves on. There was a thick gash across the man's stomach - bad news. A gut wound was a long, painful way to die. The poor man gave a choked noise, to which Zee responded with a soft shush and a small shot of painkillers. "Shhh. I've got you. Relax." He promised, getting to work. Dressing the area, pressure on the wound. Get things cleaned up, get them closed. Zee didn't have the time, tools, or sterility for surgery so triage would have to do.

"Talk to me." Zee prompted, leaning over to examine the man's jumpsuit. "...Troigg. That's a nice name." He complimented. "Have you worked here long?" He chattered as he worked, applying sealants to either side of the laceration, carefully looking for potential perforations beneath the skin.

"Y-Yeah?" Troigg murmured, his eyes a little glassy with shock. "Gonna... buy flowers..."

"Flowers are great. What kind?" Zee asked pleasantly, pushing a pill into the man's mouth to aid with the blood loss.

"lulipsh." Troigg muttered, slurring around the pill.



​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Zee Caromed TK Olraen

Braze stuck close to Zee's side and continued to deflect, sending blaster bolts back at the enemy to hold the line. The flashy, glowing blade was bound to draw attention, for better or worse.
Blaster fire redoubled as the pirates adjusted, a few falling back behind scorched cargo crates while others fanned out, trying to box Braze in.


"Frak it, that's a Jedi!" one shouted, firing wild to keep him pinned.


Another raider vaulted a crate and seized a terrified dockworker by the collar, jamming a pistol to the man's temple. "Drop the glowing stick, hero, or he dies!"


Two more broke from the line, angling through the smoke toward Zee's position, boots pounding against duracrete. One leveled a scattershot carbine, the other reaching for a stun net as they closed the gap.

From the shuttle, a heavy repeater clanked into place, its barrels beginning to spin up with a shrill whine.

Braze thrust out a hand, the Force twisting the pirate's blaster aside and snapping the safety on with a sharp click. At the same time, he cast a barrier over Zee and the wounded man, a shimmering bubble of energy flaring as it caught the storm of incoming fire.

"I've got you covered."

 

[TK Olraen]

The medic's ever-present armorweave bag and the green sash denoting him as a member of the Life-Bearer's Guild

From the shuttle, a heavy repeater clanked into place, its barrels beginning to spin up with a shrill whine.

Braze thrust out a hand, the Force twisting the pirate's blaster aside and snapping the safety on with a sharp click. At the same time, he cast a barrier over Zee and the wounded man, a shimmering bubble of energy flaring as it caught the storm of incoming fire.

"I've got you covered."

A degree of business-as-usual detachment was both unavoidable and necessary, but seeing a medic treating an open gut wound while under direct fire, protected by a Jedi of some kind - that was a jolt. TK let out a shaky breath and worked the problem. She was still under cover herself, just coming out of a passage, and nobody'd yet clued in to the woman in the space suit with the red sigil.

The docking bay had only scattered cover; she couldn't, say, craft the illusion of a blast door closing and weapons fire marring its surface, a mental image which had served her very well many times. She could try 'you have successfully killed them,' but that had a low chance of success with an active lightsaber in the picture. Lightsabers had a way of getting distracting. Simulating an explosion had the same problem.

Distraction, then. It would spark empty hope in the people she was trying to help, but that was the cost of doing business.

She drew deep on the White Current and conjured the image of a handful of masked Jedi around her. Identically clothed and armed, lightsabers' color and sound and light mimicking the bluish saber at work in there already. The illusions burst past her, intangible but real-seeming enough that she could've sworn she felt the wind of the Jedi team's passage. They charged in and fanned out to take cover behind various crates, where they'd fade away soon.

The impact was immediate. While Braze and Zee Caromed and the wounded man remained targets, there were now half a dozen equally important targets, and the pirates' blasterfire split widely. "Go," TK hissed to the red-sigil-marked medic droid behind her, and it skimmed over to join the three of them, deploying a pair of poles, a tensor field stretcher that could lift and evacuate the casualty in something like safety.

Assuming the droid made it there, anyway. With her attention on the illusory Jedi, TK couldn't make the stretcher droid invisible or disguise it. She couldn't even watch, and that killed her.

 

[Zee Caromed]

Jedi everywhere. Braze at his back. While Zee was perfectly comfortable with his Jedi here, he was a little concerned with having lots of Jedi here. He wasn't wanted by the Order or anything, of course, but he knew who he was related to, and he knew that he tended to channel the more passionate sides of the force, and he especially knew the skin of the beast he wore on his back. The last thing he needed was for some zealous do-gooder to decide he was part of the problem and not one of the helpers.

Nothing for it. His hands were already covered in blood, so he'd have to make sure they remained busy tending wounds.

Carefully sealing the wound, Zee glanced up as a medical droid wheeled out of nowhere and began deploying a stretcher. An angel spreading her wings. Familiar with such things, Zee wasted no time flinging the patient's biometric data from his vambrace to the droid, to cut down on the time it'd take the droid to start helping. He transferred it with a soft tap on the droid's chassis. "Get him somewhere quiet. Signal for medivac and emergency personnel. He needs a blood transfusion. There are storefronts nearby, so keep him in a freezer if evac is far away." He instructed quickly, intently.

Zee stood quickly, brushing his hands off on his jacket. It was eager to drink the blood away, leaving him spotless. "Braze! Moving closer to the explosion!" He called out quickly. "Let's go! Keep an eye out for more medical droids, and signal them if you can!"

And with that, the Mandalorian was off - vaulting over the fallen boxes to get nearer to the epicenter of the explosion, seeking out those too wounded by the detonation to groan or cry out for help first.

​

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Zee Caromed TK Olraen

Braze was startled at the sight of other Jedi, and it only amplified his fight-or-flight response with a spike of concern. Luckily, they didn't seem interested in him, though he didn't recognize any of them as he fought, keeping the blaster bolts at bay. With a sharp flick of telekinesis, he separated the pirate from his hostage, sending the man sprawling backward over a stack of crates. The hostage seized the moment to flee. Braze shifted to stay close to Zee, continuing to cut down and deflect incoming fire.

The pirates wavered as the scene tilted further out of their control. The hostage bolted into the crowd, vanishing between cargo stacks, and the sudden appearance of more Jedi only stoked their panic.

"Fall back to the shuttle!" one of them barked, voice cracking as he lobbed a thermal charge toward the bay floor. The blast ripped across the deck in a flash of fire and smoke, covering their retreat.

But not all of them were ready to give up. The raider who'd lost his hostage scrambled upright with a snarl, spitting curses as he emptied his rifle at the poor dockhand's retreating back.

Above it all, the heavy repeater on the shuttle shrieked to life. Its barrels spun to a blur before unleashing a storm of red-hot bolts, the stream hammering directly at Braze, daring the glowing saber to keep pace.

Two more pirates broke from cover in the chaos, slipping wide through the smoke. Their eyes locked on Zee and the droid at his side, if they couldn't take loot, then a medic or machine would do. Net launchers and shock prods came up as they closed in fast.

Braze drew a second, shorter blade, his form blurring into a whirl of motion, terrifyingly fast. A stray bolt cracked back at the advancing pirates, scattering them. He matched Zee's steps without looking, always in place, always covering him. Sliding into a flanking guard, he moved as if the whole field lived inside his mind, every shot turned aside with uncanny precision.

He didn't have time to question or marvel at the way Zee's coat seemed to drink up the blood. It was do or die, and Braze would sooner be pushed to his limits than risk his Mandalorian friend, or himself, falling to harm.

"Guess I'm earning my keep today.... Think they're starting to regret this~?"

 

[Zee Caromed]

Zee slipped beneath the arm of a fallen industrial machine, heading towards a Rodian with her head twisted at an awkward angle. "If you haven't earned it yet -" He promised over his shoulder. Zee stood on business, of course - when his vocation was health itself, he couldn't afford to spend TOO much time bantering - but he WAS very much alive. Blaster bolts whizzing overhead, the whir of lightsabers, the weight of his bag at his side and the lives on his shoulders. Every neuron was firing, every part of him was screaming with life, demanding action.

The Rodian woman was holding on by a thread. It was probably too late for her and her likely brain bleed. The Mando tried anyway, administering something to keep the swelling down and packing it with a chemical coolant.. A sedative to keep her at rest, and something for the neck. Thankfully, not broken. Might not work properly again. Not much he could do about that from here.

A pirate jumped out from behind cover, on the rubble just above Zee. Not aiming at him, not at his Jedi, or even at the patient. His weapon looked automatic, he likely intended to hose the area down and hope he got lucky. More indiscriminate violence.

Zee hardened his resolve into a tight orb in his gut, leaping up and springing off a bit of fallen cargo. His elbow caught the pirate across the jaw, breaking it. Zee ducked a retaliatory swing and met it with a pair of rabbit punches - one in the sternum, one in the jaw again. Quick hits, the sort that didn't look like much even when delivered by a young man with clear martial training, but Matukai made them hit deceptively hard. Hard enough to break bone, at least. The man reeled like he'd been kicked by a horse and stumbled.

Zee pulled him over his shoulder and lobbed him in Braze's general direction to be more complete dispatched, and returned to his triage.

​

 

[TK Olraen]

"Endymin, medic droids to my location. Major contact point."

"Two minutes, Commander."

Whatever else her dispatch officer might have said got lost in a colossal and immediate noise: that repeater chugging away with the one non-illusory Jedi as its target. Him and the medic he was protecting.

With various raiders pulling back, TK switched gears and pulled up the kind of mental image she knew well and dreaded: people cut down by heavy weapons fire.

She crafted the illusion and shoved it at the repeater's gunman, trying to give him the sense that he'd succeeded in cutting his targets down and could aim elsewhere now. It emphatically wouldn't last, and she was letting the illusory Jedi vanish to do it, but it seemed the likeliest tactic to create an opening. There was a chance the two people she was helping would see the illusion and get confused - or worse - and that was the risk she took.

She kept hanging back for now, in reasonable cover at the hallway entrance.

Zee Caromed Braze

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Zee Caromed TK Olraen

The illusions bought Braze a breath of slack as the repeater shifted its fire elsewhere. He pressed into the gap, teal blades flashing as he closed the distance. The pirate Zee had flung his way was decisively disarmed and sent sprawling unconscious against the deck. The heavy repeater still spat fire in their direction, but Braze angled his blades toward it, batting aside the bolts that threatened Zee's advance, his movements syncing seamlessly with the Mandalorian's rush toward the wounded.

Out of the corner of his eye, he caught glimpses of the false Jedi fading away. He didn't stop to question it, but unease coiled in his chest. If there were other Jedi here, they would reveal themselves soon. If not, then someone else was playing at being savior.

The tide turned, and the raiders knew it. Blaster fire lost its rhythm, turning into ragged bursts as nerves frayed.

"Pull back! Get to the shuttle!" one barked, voice raw with panic.

The rank-and-file melted away through the haze, some dragging sacks of stolen goods, others dropping their weapons outright in the rush to escape. Only a few stragglers lingered, firing wild shots to cover the retreat, but the message was clear enough: Gala was no longer worth the blood. Once they were clear of hostiles Braze moved to assist Zee where he could with the wounded.

"One day we'll have a port landing that doesn't end in blaster fire."
The wail of sirens cut through the thinning haze as a squad of Port Authority security spilled into the bay. Their armor was mismatched and worn, little more than blast vests stenciled with the starport crest. A few carried carbines, most clutched stun batons and riot shields, but all of them looked rattled, too late to stop the worst of it, and all too aware.

Braze looked around a little concerned about the strange other jedi in the wake of the violence trying to discern just where they had come from...​

 

[Zee Caromed]

A part of Zee really, REALLY wanted to give chase. These men had just attacked a civillian population, harmed and killed non-combatants, and some of them would just.... get away with it. Station security was incompetent to a degree that that felt like it made them culpable, and it wasn't entirely beyond the realm of imagination that some of them would be on the take. There was little chance they'd scoop more than one or two of the slowest pirates, or the ones who were too injured to exfiltrate.

Zee was quick. He could get on that ship. He wasn't his mother, but he could probably disable a shuttle like that and a few men before they could stop him.

He bit the anger back. His duty was to heal, not harm. The Rodian woman had quietly died beneath his hands, and wasn't responding to resuscitation. Even if she came back, much longer and there'd be lingering damage. Her quality of life would forever be changed, diminished. And some of the people responsible would suffer no consequences for it, they'd just go on their way making the Galaxy worse. They'd continue being the reason he never left his ship without a bag of medical supplies. The streets of Taris had taught him that violence was always a possibility and the greater Galaxy hadn't done anything to convince Zee otherwise.

Zee wasn't too angry for CPR, but he WAS too angry to quip.

"Any healers among the Jedi?" Zee called out sharply, looking up from his work. "Anyone?"

​

 

[TK Olraen]

Two, three more of the medic droids came in late but at speed. Pressure came off but adrenaline still wanted attention. The air scanned cleaner than most raid aftermath scenes. TK took off her helmet.

"—healers among the Jedi? Anyone?"

The price of faking hope. TK approached the young man doing CPR on the Rodian woman. A medic droid came in and tried to take over.

"There weren't any Jedi," she said at an opportune moment, not that there was such a thing. "Optical illusions to scare them off. I'm sorry."

Sometimes she called them holograms. That felt beneath the moment.

Braze Zee Caromed

 

[Braze]

TAGS: Zee Caromed TK Olraen

​

Braze panted lightly as the clash faded, his chest still heaving with the rhythm of the fight. He dropped to a knee beside Zee Caromed , jade eyes sliding over the Rodian's battered form. For a heartbeat, he didn't even register what he was seeing, until TK Olraen 's voice cut through the haze.

His hands hovered over her uncertainly, then he reached out, settling one palm just above the Rodian's sternum. The warmth of the Force stirred at his call, though his focus trembled with the leftover edge of adrenaline. He forced himself to breathe slower, to steady, and tried to channel it into the Rodian.

"I know," he said quietly, more to Zee than to anyone else. His eyes followed the departing shuttle for a long, hard moment before finding Zee again. "We can't catch them all."

His jaw tightened, letting his tone soften as the glow of the Force flickered faintly between his fingers. "Let's finish here, then we'll figure out who's behind it...."

Whether the Force answered him with healing or not, he had to try...because he couldn't fight and protect and heal all at once. He was only one person. But he would never let that stop him from trying to do something... He wasn't sure if his efforts came too late.