Private Of Shadows and Stars

[Ripley Kühn]

Aboard the Prosperity
Following the Battle of Bastion
Auteme ​

An orange blade slashing her already wounded leg. The acolyte standing over her, smiling cruelly. The light on his hair as blaster bolts flew past him. The battlefield rolling by. The stuffy interior of a transport. It was all a blur. Her eyes finally fell shut, their struggle ended. Distorted faces swam through the ocean of darkness. Whispers filled her ears, their voices haunting. Fear. Pain. Anger. They bubbled upwards, almost palpable in her aura. The dark side sang its siren’s call, and her emotions were too strong to resist. The sound of her heaving breaths somewhere in the distance was the only thing keeping her anchored to this world.

Her eyes finally flickered open to find a well-lit exam room. Yellow irises searched wildly for any familiarity, but none could be found. A nurse was touching her foot, another taking a knife to the mesh that covered her leg.

“Wha-? Where am I?”

The woman looked up from her foot, a warm smile on her face.

“It’s okay, Ripley. You’re on the Prosperity. We’re going to get you taken care of.”

Her eyes narrowed before it came rushing back to her. The Prosperity, the battle, the moment of solace she had found before.

“Is R-”

The zeltron was cut off as the male nurse interrupted.

“Sonya, come here.”

The woman placed the boot down and joined her counterpart at the hip. Her expression transformed, the warmth giving way to worry.

“I’ll go get a healer.”

Ripley’s gaze fell, looking for the source of their concern. It took her a minute to spot through the thin layer of blood that covered the area. A two-inch wound, nothing major, save for the black streaks creeping down her thigh.

“What’s wrong with it?” She asked weakly. A moment of silence passed before she spoke again. “What’s wrong with it?” She demanded through gritted teeth.

The man looked up to meet her eyes, his casting a shadow of pity upon the zeltron.

“Some kind of poison, altered by Sith alchemy. The Jedi will probably be able to heal it, but… there will likely be some sort of long term effects.”

Ripley’s eyes stung as tears began to well. Anger and sorrow came together in a combination much deadlier than any toxin. Her lids shut tightly, then reopened, a new resolve found. Whatever the Sith did to her, they would be paid back tenfold.

 

[Auteme]

Ripley Kühn ​

Battles didn't end when the shooting stopped.

Auteme had been pushing through her fatigue from the day's events. Bastion had left a number of Jedi -- and many others -- in desperate need of medical attention. It was all hands on deck, even the tired ones. She'd been running from room to room to help where she could, especially to heal patients who'd had unlucky run-ins with Sith sorcerers. Bacta didn't have as much luck when it came to lightning burns.

"I'm here," she said, berating herself for being out of breath just from running down the hall. To be fair, the Halls of Healing were very large and very long. Nobody was going to judge her.

Her eyes wandered to her patient. Flesh wound; mostly superficial, bacta treatment would've done just fine were it not for the poison seeping into the woman's veins. The wound throbbed not just with pain but with anger. She could feel it across the room; darkness given substance, forced into the body of another. A bright Zeltron pink and the kind of timeless beauty that tended to accompany the Force -- Ripley. They didn't know each other well. It didn't matter. Auteme needed to help.

She approached. Deep breath to clear her head, and for a brief moment the exhaustion fled her body. She pulled some sanitary wipes to her hand and wiped down the wound (the nurses already had, but it wouldn't feel right if she didn't do it again). "Hey, Ripley? You're going to be fine," she said. "Take a deep breath. Do you remember the meditation techniques? Slow your heart and blood flow, just for a little while. I know it hurts, but if you can do that, it'll go away much quicker."

A dull green glow gathered in her hands. Another deep breath, then a bright, encouraging smile. "Just breathe."

 

[Ripley Kühn]

The beam was a shining star that guided her to a place that was a little less rocky. Though they barely knew each other, Ryv had raved about the shield of the Jedi many a time. She inhaled deeply, putting her trust in him, to trust Auteme. Ripley attempted to bring down the boundaries of her mind. Fear was evident in her expression. The force around her felt so much different than what she was used to. It was almost reminiscent of the cold atmosphere on Korriban, but somehow... closer. What was once a calm ocean was now a roaring monster. Violent waves of emotion rose and fell endlessly. Where was once beauty, now only held pain and sorrow.

Ripley shook her head, her eyes shutting tight. Another shaky breath, and she drew on the basics of what she had been taught so long ago. Focus let her follow her connection with the force. Before she knew it, her lungs were filled with inky water. The turbulence pulled her in, sweeping her away. She wanted to struggle, to fight, but she knew she needed to stay calm. Her teeth gritted as the blistery cold stung every bit of her body. Before she knew it, pain shot through her once more, an anger flaring in it's wake. Ripley's lids fluttered open, looking to Auteme.

"I... can't. Something's wrong." Her voice was barely a whisper. "Everything feels so different."

 

[Auteme]

Ripley Kühn
​

"That- that's okay! That's okay. You're going to be fine." Not that she could be completely sure.

After all, Auteme had never actually encountered Sith poison herself. It was a rare thing; potent, the weapon of a powerful Sith alchemist. Amplifying the rage of the Jedi was something that could cripple their ability to respond. Further, it could be fatal if left unchecked. Ripley had had the poison in her for too long already; it'd drained her of any means of resistance.

Auteme had to make up the difference. Battling Sith couldn't be further from her true skill set -- she was a healer first, a little light, a shining star in the distance to inspire rather than harm. The light pooled in her hands. All her skills came together to draw out the poison. Telekinesis, to pull the inky black liquid from her body; Light, to purge the darkness; healing, to mend the cells, detoxify the poison, and close the wound. She pulled and illuminated and healed what she could.

Even then she couldn't claim the job was perfect. The poison's strength took everything from the both of them to withstand; even after she drew it from the wound, she could feel the anger in Ripley's heart, as though a sliver of poison Auteme could not yet reach. The wound closed. She pushed the poison into her bag, storing it safely within the enchanted confines of the satchel.

She exhaled. "Sorry, I- I'm exhausted." It set back in. Auteme shuffled over to a nearby stool and sat down. "Are you alright?" she asked, before realizing what a terrible question that was. "Um- the poison. Should be mostly out of your system. Try to- to breath."

She breathed.