Private O Hades, Where is thy Victory?

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

As she awoke, the first thing that Athsheva Rin noticed was the gentle softness of the crushed grass beneath her body. It was a suitable counterpoint to the aching pain that ran through her body in dull, steady waves. Dark eyes opened, slowly and sluggishly at first, as the Yuuzhan Vong attempted to shake off whatever had put her into such a deep slumber. Overhead, a canopy of greenery wavered slowly in the light wind; the air around her was otherwise warm, and stiflingly muggy.

That wasn't right. The planet she had been on was cold.

Athsheva sat up quickly, a move that sent a fresh bout of pain up and down her spine. In any other circumstance, the agony would have been much appreciated, but now it was a reminder that she was injured in uncertain surroundings. It felt as if she had been dropped from a great height. Another glance at the canopy overhead confirmed it; several branches were snapped and scattered around her. Beyond that, there was something wrong with the sky, too... the blueness of it seemed somehow muted, as if hidden behind a great filter. It took her a moment to recognize it for what it was-- a massive energy shield, reaching kilometers into the sky.

Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.

The Shaper wasted no further time in getting to her feet. Thankfully, her amphistaff was still with her; it slithered out from the sleeve of her oozhith, its scaled head bumping reassuringly against her palm. At least she was still armed... but that begged another unsettling question. Who would go to the trouble of kidnapping her without disarming her? It made no sense. Unless an armed prisoner was the point. She was beginning to suspect that the shield overhead was not to keep interlopers out, but to keep new arrivals in.

Not a prison in the traditional sense. What, then? There was precious little time to think about it. The jungle was not silent around her; insects chittered and called in the greenery, and in the distance, she could hear larger creatures roaring and bellowing. The longer she stood still, out in the open, the more likely that something else would find her.

Something else was coming. She could hear leaves crunching and twigs snapping. An animal, or one of her captors? It was hard to say for certain, except that whatever was approaching her was bipedal.

The Yuuzhan Vong cursed in her native language before sprinting to the nearest tree, much to the disagreement of her aching muscles. Her momentum carried her halfway up the rough bark before she began to climb, hand over foot, pulling herself into the cover of the branches and leaves. There she waited, as silent as the void, her eyes peering and her pointed ears pricked.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Piercing pain shocked Brandyn to alertness. Such was the jolt from slumber that it left him dazed, a feeling of vertigo causing him to collapse back down. The initial pain had subsided, and whatever had caused it had removed itself, and yet a dull ache remained.

A breeze brushed his face. Hot, and damp. And wretched in odour. Brandyn gagged as the smell did wonders in dragging him back from his dizzy spell. Before him stood a great canine of some description. Blood dripped from its overbitten upper canine teeth.

His blood?

”Raaaarg!” He called.

The beast startled, and moved back momentarily before lunging at his face. The blur that followed saw Brandyn roll with the blow while avoiding the bite to his body. The beast clawed at him, gashing without discretion, while Brandyn grabbed at his lightsaber. He did not have time to pull it from its clip, but angled it towards the beast and flicked it on.

The emerald blade hissed into life. A sizzle of burnt hair and cauterised flesh met Brandyn’s nose as the tip of blade appeared out the back of the canine’s neck. It slumped, dead. Brandyn slumped too, rolling off the beast and onto the ground. Darkness pulled over his eyes.

However long later, Brandyn stirred. His whole body hurt. And his mind had yet to grapple with where or how he got where. He was injured. Badly. He needed to find help.

The Force indicated that there were plenty more creatures in the forest he found himself in. None of them would hesitate to attack, of this he was sure. Through jolts of pain, Brandyn pushed himself to his feet, and stumbled towards a distant light at the edge of the forest’s canopy.

Clearings meant civilisation. Sometimes.

| Athsheva Rin |​

 

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

Whoever or whatever was approaching, they were injured-- or at least, disoriented. Athsheva's ears twitched as she listened to the stranger's stumbling, uncertain gait. Her harsh, unblinking eyes tracked the rustling foliage as the new arrival finally stepped out from the greenery and into an open space.

A man. Human, by the looks of it, although there was no accounting for the myriad of near-human variants that plagued this galaxy. His clothing was tattered and torn, and the pit of her nose flared at the smell of blood on the air-- no doubt, this man had recently been the victim of an animal attack. But that wasn't the most interesting detail about him.

It was the hilt of his blasted laser sword as it bounced, tethered to his hip.

Jeedai!

Or, perhaps, one of their more sadistic cousins. It was impossible to tell at first glance. Whoever he was, Athsheva suspected that he was in the same proverbial boat as she was; the shock and disorientation was evident on his pale face. Knowing that her captors were capable of capturing sorcerers as well was unsettling. Jeedai had many tricks to avoid capture, she knew all too well.

Her grip on her amphistaff tightened as the man drew closer to the base of her tree, seemingly unaware of her presence. Athsheva had the element of surprise, and she had every intention on using it. It was possible that this infidel had more knowledge about the prison that surrounded them. Perhaps he had even encountered their captors. That knowledge was precious, and she had to have it.

She would extract it from the Jeedai by force.

When the heretic was close enough, Athsheva wasted no further time. Silently, she threw herself from the branch, dropping upon her unsuspecting prey. The pointed tail-end of her amphistaff was aimed at his right shoulder. Most humans were right-handed, and she needed to prevent him from reaching for his filthy laser sword as quickly as possible.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

The limp was already doing a number on his back. Perhaps, though, there was a laceration causing the pain. He doubted that he had made full accounting for all the nicks and cuts the beast had left him with.

Focus, Brandyn.

With his mind drifting, Brandyn leant into the Force more, allowing it to guide his steps, dull his pain. Pulling from the connection with the very trees in his way, Brandyn navigated them in what seemed to be a guided stumble.

As he moved beneath one of the evergreens, Brandyn felt a shift in the branches above. No creature seemed present, but perhaps a branch had broken loose. At the moment of impact, he was already beginning to roll withe direction of the blow. Instead of piercing flesh, the weapon thrust his way tore through his dark green tunic, just to the right of his arm, and pinned him to the ground.

Cursing his dazed state, Brandyn had no time to wonder how he had missed the presence of what seemed to be some form of humanoid. It all happened so fast. Fast, just like his saber was to his hand.

Snap-hiss.

The green blade shot across his body, putting a barrier between he and his assailant. “Mercy. Let us show mercy. We need not both die…”

His vision refocused at he instantly noted the species of his assailant.

“…Shiraya damn it.”

| Athsheva Rin |​

 

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

As she descended, Athsheva braced herself for the landing. The sore muscles of her legs tensed as her feet hit the ground; she remained half-standing over her opponent, planting a heel on the man's chest as an added level of insurance. She could tell that the point of her amphistaff had not found its target-- the impact had lacked the jarring bite that could only accompany digging her weapon into flesh and bone-- but this would do, in a pinch.

The sight of the emerald blade, reflected in her dark eyes, brought a fresh sneer to her tattooed face; her full lips pulled back in a snarl, exposing her pointed canines. The fact that the Jeedai didn't use his weapon immediately was a clear sign of weakness, and one that she would eagerly exploit. Sorcerers.

So godsdamn sentimental.

"…Shiraya damn it."

"Your false god cannot save you, heathen," Athsheva whispered harshly. As if to impress that point upon him, her heel dug further into his chest. "Neither can your Jeedai devilry. Your only hope of living is to answer my questions. No playing. No tricks. Try anything, and I will melt your face."

The Yuuzhan Vong's amphistaff punctuated her threat with a low hiss, its forked tongue flicking out to taste the air in anticipation.

"First question: where are we?"

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Wind sufficiently knocked out of him with the planting of her hoof on his chest. Brandyn winced. “Ah great…Vong…and a nosey one at that,” he muttered through gritted teeth. What he knew of the Yuuzhan Vong was limited to books, and then he had somewhat dipped out of that class mentally before the instructor had gotten into much about them at all. It was most definitely a first.

An unpleasant first.

He glanced at the amphistaff. That was new. “Is that…”

…alive? The sentence remained unfinished as he flinched again at the sight of its hissing. Question answered.

”All I know…I don’t know much…not even where I was…before…”

His lightsaber moved slightly as if he was now pointing with it as if it were an extension to his finger.

”…wait. You don’t know either?”

| Athsheva Rin |​

 

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

“Ah great…Vong…and a nosey one at that.”

The bridge of her non-existent nose wrinkled, her eyes narrowing in annoyance and disgust. Not only was it sacrilegious to simply refer to her as Vong-- leaving out Yun-Yuuzhan's name was tantamount to calling her both godless and a bastard child-- but his attempt at a stupid play on words found no purchase with Athsheva.

A fool. That was what she was dealing with now. Gods preserve her... Still, she couldn't kill him. Yet.

Instead, the Yuuzhan Vong quickly lifted her amphistaff and smacked the blunt side of its tail against the Jeedai's nose. He was lucky that she was feeling generous enough not to use the sharpened end. She returned the weapon to its original location to pin his tunic once more, slamming the point down to make her point.

"Chk!" The wordless sound of annoyance slipped between her gritted teeth. "Listen, fool. If you would like to keep that disgusting little protuberance on your face, and any other disgusting little protuberances you may have," she threatened, "then you will heed my words. No more jokes. No more games."

”…wait. You don’t know either?”

At that, Athsheva had to roll her eyes.

"If I knew," she said, speaking with the tone of voice that an infidel might use on a babbling child, "would I be asking you, fool? I know it is difficult for your kind, but please. Try to think."

She took a moment to regain her composure, reaching up to rub her sloping forehead. Athsheva could feel the beginnings of a headache.

"Next question: have you seen the ones who captured us?"

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

“Ow!“ He proclaimed loudly. Loud enough that avian creatures took flight from the trees above.

“It’s a figure of speech…dumbass…clearly not one for rhetorical questions either,” he’s said, pulling his shirt against the amphistaff.

Ire. Raised.

Caution was needed. Though absurdly literal, the Vong’s non-subtle ways lead some credence to the notion that she was not the one that put him them here. As precarious a position as he found himself in, it was probably better to make an ally than another adversary. Diplomacy would win the day.

His mother would be proud.

With the thought of his mother crossing his mind, some of his recent past came flooding back into memory, and with it a deep shadow of grief fell over his visage. There wasn’t time for this. He pushed through the added pain.

”I only recently awoke. As I was being attacked. But my attacker was not sentient. So, no. I do not believe I have met our captures,” he said, words calm and measured, “question for you…how do you know we are captured?” He clearly had not seen signs of the enclosure above. It might have been that something was blocking his view.

| Athsheva Rin |​

 

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

Rhetorical questions served no practical purpose, and therefore, they did not interest Athsheva. Her eyes flickered upward at the sudden flight of the birds, ears once again twitching as she listened carefully. So far, it seemed that no animals were approaching to investigate the loud sound that the buffoon below her had made. Lucky, lucky her them.

A sinking feeling was beginning to set in, her heart dropping in her ribcage as a new realization struck her. The facts were simple. Her ship was millions of kilometers, perhaps even light-years away. Her captors had brought her here, presumably using some mechanical ship-- one that she was woefully unequipped to pilot, if she could even find it. A frown tugged at her lined features.

All of her hope for escape rested with the stupid bastard beneath her. Not only could she not kill him... she had to keep him alive.

”I only recently awoke. As I was being attacked. But my attacker was not sentient. So, no. I do not believe I have met our captures,” he said, words calm and measured, “question for you…how do you know we are captured?”

The human's question was answered with a simple gesture; Athsheva leaned slightly to the side, revealing the shimmering blue sky overhead. She gestured up at it with her free hand.

"Even I know what an energy shield looks like," she spat, her free hand settling on her hip. "I hope that you are a better fighter than you are a thinker, fool. Please tell me that you have some Jeedai training."

She tilted her head. "You are a Jeedai, correct? You seem too stupid and kind-hearted to be a Seeth..."

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

“Ah. The shield. Missed that,” he said with a pained smile.

It was setting in now, the pain. His back, his leg, his head…pretty much all of him hurt, but he as most concerned for the wound on his leg. Infection could prove fatal if they could not find civilisation. His eyes darted about the canopy of the forest. The flora was unfamiliar, as had been the fauna.

He didn’t know where he was. Was this a Vong world? No. It didn’t match the rumours of what those worlds looked like.

”A Gee…dye?” He said with a grimace, “sure. Let’s go with that. Name’s Brandyn. And yes, I have some Jedi training.”

He had learned his lessons from previous experiences that not all information needed to be shared. She didn’t need to know that he was a fully trained Jedi Knight.

”And who pray tell…is the one that is about to let me up so that I can try healing that wound on my leg?” He said, tugging against the spear that kept his tunic pinned to the ground, “can’t say I have ever met one of your kind.”

| Athsheva Rin |​

 

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

His refusal to elaborate was met with a suspicious glare and a disapproving sneer. Athsheva was no fool; she could tell that the man beneath her was hiding the full extent of the truth. Perhaps he was merely one of their Padawan learners, an initiate, barely fit to hold the laser sword which he had been assigned.

It didn't matter. Useful or useless, the one known as Brandyn had become her charge as a matter of necessity. She would defend his life as fervently and vehemently as she would her own. And she would hate every second of it.

"You are speaking to Athsheva Rin. You are also very presumptuous. Your list of faults continues to grow with every passing second," the Yuuzhan Vong snarled, although her voice had already lost some of its previous edge. "Consider yourself fortunate to have met me. A Yuuzhan Vong warrior would have killed you on sight."

Her gaze flickered down to his leg-- and, true to his word, the injury seemed substantial. In a jungle like this, it could quickly become infected, hampering his ability to walk. If he couldn't walk, he would become a liability, and if he died...

She would be stuck here. Forever.

After a moment of reluctance, Athsheva yanked her amphistaff away with a sigh. She lifted her foot from his chest, instead planting both feet firmly on the ground as she crouched down next to him.

"Show me your wound. I am a Shaper." A beat. He probably didn't even know what that meant. "I can help you heal."

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

“You…are not a warrior?” Brandyn said with a quirk of his brow, “Shiraya be thanked.”

“Pleasure to make your acquaintance, Athsheva,” he said. The sarcasm was pretty thickly laid on. “If you take the time…you will find I am full of positives. But you don’t seem like the patient type.”

It was with some considerable degree of relief that he was free from her grasp. Pushing up to a sit, Brandyn took a moment to dust of his arms and inspect the damage. Mention of Athsheva being something called a Shaper brought a glance from Brandyn, and a hand was raised to slow her down. “Ah. It’s ok. I got it…thanks.” From what he had learned about Vong techniques, he was not keen on it coming in contact with bare flesh. He at least needed to understand it a bit more first.

Pulling his leg away from her, and tucking his knee beneath his chin, Brandyn closed his eyes and held a hand just above the wound. “Keep an eye out would you. This may take a few moments.”

Cybelle had taught him many things, but right now the most valuable thing was that of healing. He was in know way an expect, not like his Cy, but he was better than nothing. Focusing on the sounds of the trees and the feelings of life round about him, Brandyn pulled at the strands of Force energy to wrap them around his hand. The tingling feeling swirled up his arm, down his torso and then concentrated into his leg. Slowly, blood flow slowed from the wound, pink new flesh moved upwards as the skin regrew front he sides.

Frustration began to swell. It was takin too long. Brandyn could feel his grasp on the Force slipping, before his eyes flung open and he gasped for air as if surfacing. He slumped back to the ground, leg partially but not completely repaired.

”Would you believe…I…am not…a healer?”

| Athsheva Rin |​

 

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

She wasn't about to explain the intricacies of the Yuuzhan Vong caste system to an outsider. Athsheva wasn't part of the warrior caste, but it didn't make her any less capable of conflict; it simply wasn't her priority. The gods had greater things in mind for her. His sarcasm was met with yet another wordless sound of annoyance-- "Chk!" -- and a hand gesture that passed as obscene among her people.

“Keep an eye out would you. This may take a few moments.”

The Yuuzhan Vong couldn't stop her eyes from rolling. Of course he was going to employ his ungodly sorcery. The Jeedai loved to rely on it at the expense of everything else; they were so focused on tapping into the unnatural energy of their magic that they refused to see the obvious solutions of the natural world that laid before them. Nevertheless, she did not move to interrupt him, instead electing to remain crouched beside him as she watched the process at work.

Admittedly... it was fascinating, as far as magic went. From what she could see past his hovering hand, the ragged flesh seemed to be knitting itself together; even his blood seemed to have a mind of its own as it stopped rolling down his leg, beginning to roll back up into the rapidly closing wound. She observed his progress, dark eyes leering beneath her furrowed brows. As impressive as that progress was, however, it could not last. Her gaze flickered to the expression on his face as Brandyn seemed to lose concentration, and the healing wound slowed accordingly. It was as if he was shouldering a burden that he could no longer stand, and finally, the burden proved to be too much to bear as he collapsed with exhaustion.

"... Was that it?" Athsheva asked dryly. She shook her head, clicking her tongue in clear disapproval. "Your performance issues are duly noted, fool. Stay still. I will finish what you have failed to complete. I am not asking."

The Shaper reached out to him, her eight-fingered right hand extended. The cephalopoidal biot flexed its claw-tipped digits as Athsheva began her work. Clear antiseptic salve leaked from the pores of her palm as she pressed it firmly against the injury on his leg; then, with a hypnotizing grace, her clawed fingers began to stitch and weave his flesh together using lines of fine, microscopic silk. Slowly, the wound began to close further, the ragged red line becoming a thin, almost imperceptible sliver. The silk stitches would, in time, eventually dissolve on their own. Still, Athsheva needed to keep his leg covered to fully minimize the risk of infection.

She glanced at the ripped sleeve of his tunic-- and then, unceremoniously, yanked his sleeve off, ripping the fine fabric. In her mind, it was already ruined. What was a little more damage? The Yuuzhan Vong tied the cloth around his leg before rising to her feet, hands once again on her hips.

"There. Now, get up and stop wasting my time."

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

“I said,” Brandyn said with a snarl, “it would take a few minutes. I am not a healer…hey…don’t…”

It honestly felt like working with his sister. This one would just not let him do things the way he determined he would. Despite his annoyance, he did find her methods intriguing. He had questions. A lot of them. No doubt they would irritate the Vong to no end. It was probably not the best thing to do immediately. Survive first, annoy later.

The barrier shield was what occupied Brandyn’s thoughts in the background. Why would it be there? To keep something out, or keep something in? Were they the something? Or was it something else that was the something? He felt light headed. It was either blood loss or his convoluted thought process.

Brandyn leaned back onto the ground just in time for his attender to rip off his sleeve. “Ah…come on…I liked this shirt…”

It was nothing but filler noise. He winced a little realising that it would likely rile the Vong again. She clearly did not suffer levity.

”Wasting your time?” He said, as he pushed back up into a crouch. His skin pulled against the biological dressing across his wound, it felt unpleasant, but not immobile. Small blessings indeed.

”I was headed for that clearing before you so unceremoniously…began wasting our time,” he said, arms pushing on his knees for leverage so he could stand again. His bare arm bore a very noticeable tan line. Brandyn smiled slightly, Briana would surely mock him relentlessly. “I was hoping that there would be a village, or some sign of civilisation.”

| Athsheva Rin |​

 

[Athsheva Rin]

Tagging: Brandyn Sal-Soren

“Ah…come on…I liked this shirt…”

"It was ugly," Athsheva snapped, crossing her arms. "And stupid. At least it is useful, now."

”I was headed for that clearing before you so unceremoniously…began wasting our time. I was hoping that there would be a village, or some sign of civilisation.”

For a moment, the Yuuzhan Vong was quiet. However, the look in her eyes said a thousand words. Most of them were exceedingly impolite.

"Civilization? Here?" she asked incredulously, punctuating the statement with a snort of disbelief. "No. Not even by your infidel standards. Perhaps some sort of primitive cargo cult who will flay us alive and wear our skins as trophies..."

Athsheva shook her head. He was unbearably naive, to believe that civilization would be the answer to their woes here. "No, I have a feeling that the only other sentients we find will be our captors-- or fellow captives. Neither of them will be as polite to you as I was..."

Although she had every intention of scolding the Jeedai further... Athsheva trailed off, her eyes widening. The jungle around them had suddenly gone silent. Every bird, every bug-- it was as if they were no longer there at all. The only sound was the gentle rustling of knee-high grass and the leaves overhead. Her body tensed, the hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Her ears twitched, flicking behind her. Dimly, distantly, she could hear a new sound rising.

The distant whine of repulsorlifts...

Without a further word, Athsheva turned, sprinting into the cover of the thick jungle. The sound of the airspeeder was getting closer by the second, and she had no intention of being out in the open when it arrived.

 

[Brandyn Sal-Soren]

Infidel this.

Heathen that.

“You really only have one setting don’t you,” Brandyn muttered before his eyes shot towards the direction that Athsheva was alerted too.

He could sense them. Three. Yes, three minds set on hunting.

The sudden movement from the Vong caused Brandyn to jump slightly. He was a little embarrassed by how easily startled he was. Surely, the loss of blood was to blame. ”Will you…” His words trailed off from barely anything to the sounds of awkward running. His leg was not fully cooperating. He was following Athesheva. They stood a better chance together than alone. If they could work together at all.

Pulling up behind a large tree root, Brandyn pulled himself up into the crevice created by root and soil. It was enough to not be seen even if someone was standing atop the tree root. Temporarily, he felt satisfied.

Hunters.

If they were hunters of any skill, they would not take long to track him to his hiding spot. HIs leg was leaving long trails of broken grass blades and scrapes in the dirt. He couldn’t just sit here waiting to be caught.

Deeper into the jungle.

It wasn’t great for him, but at a minimum it would see the hunters being forced to go on foot too. Their speeder and its possible weaponry would have to be abandoned. They would possibly still have the upper hand, but at least that hand wouldn’t be controlling blaster canons.

He waved towards the Vong, trying to gain her attention. A hand gesture was offered, two fingers walking like legs followed by a point at himself and Athsheva and then in towards the jungle. He didn’t wait to find out what ‘fool’ was in Vong sign-language. Instead, he pushed to his feet, focused the force into controlling his pain, and aiding in his speed.

The pain was momentarily a faint echo, but he would pay for it later. Each step he took was elongated by the Force into an almost jumping motion, but it could not be maintained long as the undergrowth grew denser.

| Athsheva Rin |​