Passing Through Gethsemane

[Zak Dymo]

Continued from The Last Days of Empire​

​

THE GALACTIC ALLIANCE INVASION OF
C O R U S C A N T
849 ABY | PRESENT DAY

It sounded like a bad storm.

Echoes of thunder in the distance, punctuated by explosions and brilliant flashes that struck like lightning, sending tremors through the dark spire in which the Dark Lord of the Sith's sanctuary overlooked the heart of the Sith Empire. Though it was still daylight, the sky was dark. Large columns of smoke rose from the across the cityscape, blotting out the sun.

The young Pantoran was at work in the master's garden, tending to the care and feeding of the toxic and venomous plants that the Dark Lord cultivated for use in poisons. Most were fairly benign, though one was a little more carnivorous than the others.

The potted amphistaff was a fascinating thing. Three vines, like the many heads of the mythical hydra, pulling food into a shared ground mouth. Each vine had its own personality as well. He'd even given them each a name. There was Azi, the curious one. Then Ozzy, the lazy one. And finally Arsehole the... well...

As the boy approached, with three live rats trying to scurry out of his hands, a glob of something sticky and wet splattered against the front of his shirt. It was amphistaff venom, hocked like a loogie from about five meters away. One vine stood there, fangs bared and growling, in a show of dominance.

...guess which one was Arsehole?

Azi came over, hissing at the aggressive vine, the two baring fangs at one another for a moment. All the whole, Ozzy continued to lie on the ground and gave not a whit for the fact that the boy was there.

As the boy knelt down, to allow the rats to run free, a Navy officer passed through the garden. The Pantoran started to look up at the man, when he felt the head of an amphistaff put its snout between his collarbone and the hem of his shirt collar. And then go diving down the inside of his shirt.

That would be Azi.

Arsehole, of course, had gone diving for the rats the moment he'd let them loose. One poor creature held between it's jaws as the vine-like appendage violently shook back and forth. Ozzy had waited for a rat to run closer toward where it lay, then just picked it up and deposited it into the ground mouth, before going back to laying on the ground.

"Evacuate? In our moment of triumph?"

That was the Dark Lord, Darth Scorpius. Looking up, the Pantoran fished the head of the playful amphistaff from out of the front of his shirt even as he looked over toward where the voice of master echoed from further within the sanctuary. The Dark Lord was talking with the officer who'd passed through the garden earlier.

If you could call it 'talking.'

Hand raised, the Dark Lord was making the unmistakable gesture of choking the officer through the invocation of the Force. The sight of that pose, and the sight of the struggling officer, sent a shiver through the child as he looked on.

It was a position he'd been in before.

As the lifeless body of the Sith officer fell to the floor, Darth Scorpius casually stepped over the still form. "I think you overestimate their chances," the boy heard the man utter, coldly.

As the Sith looked his way, the young Pantoran quickly turned his attention back to the amphistaff. Pulling Azi's head from out of his shirt, a second time now, the boy tried to guide the amphistaff's head toward where the one remaining rat was trying to climb up the sides of the amphistaff's potted enclosure.

"Boy!"

"Yes, Master?" The response was immediate. Any hesitation or delay and he'd be punished. Rising up from where he'd been kneeling, the child turned to face the Dark Lord.

...and tried to maintain composure as he had to reach down to combat the fact that he had an amphistaff now trying to go up the leg of the shorts he was wearing.

"Be rid of that."

Body disposal. He was actually getting kinda good at that now, because he'd had to do it a few times. "Yes, Master," the boy chirped meekly, lowering his eyes as he bowed his head in submission, then returned to kneeling down by the potted Vong creation. Picking up the last rat, the Pantoran leaned forward to deposit it into the ground mouth himself.

...as he did, Arsehole dropped the rat it was holding and then lashed out at the child's extended arm before the boy had even realized what happened. The sensation of a thousand volts of electricity shooting up your veins, as your arm was plunged into molten lava, helped to clarify things.

He'd been bitten.

"ARGH!" Not going to lie. He squealed like an 8 year old girl. That hurt like a schutta.

...and, as he opened his mouth to yelp, Azi's head went shooting for the opening. So he wanted to hack his own arm off with a dull butter knife if necessary to just end the pain, and -- if that wasn't enough -- was now also tasting amphistaff.

Feth this plant, man.

...plant-animal-thing-abomination from hell... whatever it was.

Feth this plant, for real.

"BOY!"

Landing on his butt, twisting his head to try and get away from the overly friendly snake-head with no concept of personal space, the Pantoran clutched at the affected arm even as his feet scraped against the floor. Blood ran in thin rivets from two jagged holes torn in the flesh, joining a series of scars that suggested this wasn't the first time he'd been bitten. "Yes, Master," the child chirped, forcing himself to swallow as the acrid taste of bile struck the back of his throat. He wanted to vomit. "Coming, Master."

He'd crossed halfway toward the body when the thunder struck.

This time, the shudder seemed to precede the sound. He wasn't even certain there was sound. He just felt a sudden, concussive force knock him to the ground, and suddenly the ceiling started coming down all around him.

Then darkness.

And the sound of silence.

 

[Zak Dymo]

THE PLANET
C O R U S C A N T
24 HOURS LATER

Sunlight woke him.

Squinting against the open sky, it was a moment before the boy realized he didn't know where he was. Sitting up, dust and bits of duracrete spilled from off the child's small form. His blue skin was ashen, coated in a mixture of blood, dust, and the fallout from the smoke. He'd only gone a quarter of the way up when he realized there was something inside his shirt.

Picking up the front of his shirt, he peered down and...

...got punched in the mouth by a ram-roding amphistaff.

Mew.

The sound was something between a kitten's meow and a purr. The bloodied, stubby end of the amphistaff could be seen wagging like a dog's tail from out the bottom of the boy's shirt. The vine-like appendage had apparently separated itself from the flower-like ground mouth, it's black form dusted an ashen white -- though most of that was now rubbed off on his chest or the inside of his shirt.

Reaching up from underneath, the boy grabbed hold of the amphistaff's body and pulled it out from his shirt. As he did, the serpentine length of the creature slipped around his forearm. Rising up to his feet, the boy shook his arm, hard, to try and shake the snake-like beast off. And, when that didn't work, shake it again. And again.

"Get ugh..." the boy began, a gurgling sound cutting him off, before he lurched forward, doubled over, and puked.

He wasn't sure if he felt better or worse now.

And Azi? Little Miss Personal Bubble was up on his back.

Standing up, carefully, the Pantoran wobbled as he tried to find his foot. He was nauseous, exhausted, and felt like he'd just been punched a thousand times over. Or run over by a star destroyer. Or both. The amphistaff re-positioned around his shoulders, before it went diving down the back of his shirt.

Walking through the wreckage, the boy stopped when the section of floor he was stepping on creaked loudly, as though on the verge of snapping in half. He needed to get out of this place.

And go...

...where?

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

"There's alive someone over here! Hurry and get one of the extraction teams!"

Doctor Irajah Ven knelt in the rubble. She and several relief teams had been sweeping this sector for hours already- and it was only just past dawn. They'd found fewer living than they'd hoped. It was grim, determined work, finding survivors both military and civilian in the aftermath.

For the Alliance, the battle itself was over. But here in the City, for the millions of people affected by the war, the fight was only just beginning. Buildings had collapsed, burying thousands in tombs of stone the relief teams would never unearth. The number of injured citizens was staggering- no war could be fought without casualties, but on Coruscant, there was no chance to avoid civilian deaths. People were homeless, hurt and baffled with no where to go. And while the call had gone out for aid, to help them and help rebuild the war-torn city, it was still too soon. Many people who might offer help wouldn't come anywhere near the planet until they were well and truly sure this battle was over.

But some people knew this was the time that mattered the most.

Irajah reached out, fingertips grasping the outstretched hand that appeared from beneath the rubble. Reflexively, the person's hand flinched, then held on to hers.

"We're going to get you out of here, okay? My team is headed this way. Squeeze my hand twice if you can hear me and understand."

There was a slight hesitation and then, two squeezes. It wasn't enough for Irajah to feel relief- she had no idea how badly injured the person was. And there was a chance that just removing the weight on them would kill them outright if they had been trapped for too long. But she didn't say any of that as the extraction team converged on her location. What she said instead was-

"We're here. It's going to be okay."

*****

"Doctor, your shift ended two hours ago. You should really get some rest."

She looked up from where she was sitting, offering a wan smile.

"I will. I'm resting now aren't I?"

"That's not what I-"

Irajah waved one hand absently, fending it off. "I know, I know."

She stood up slowly, every part of her body on fire with fatigue and pain. Wincing, she pulled her long sleeves, filthy now, down more snuggly over her wrists. She didn't need to look to know that the bruises would be darker. An angry, glaring reminder that there was only so far she could afford to push her body.

"I'm going to check out that building, and then call it a day. I promise."

"Want me to send a team in there with you?"

Irajah sighed, looking at the shell critically before shaking her head. "I'll call if I find anything. All of the teams are already working on something- we're spread too thin as it is."

Of course, when she stepped inside the damaged shell, she immediately regretted coming in here alone. There was something here. She couldn't put a finger on it. Malice. A fading malice, to be sure. But it was still there, like the scent of something recently dead. Of course, that could also be something actually dead as well. She grimaced, and almost, almost turned on her heel and walked right back out of there. Something here had been very wrong, very recently, even if she didn't know what.

She couldn't have explained what stopped her. If someone had suggested the will of the Force, she would have scoffed. But something kept her moving in to the building, rather than high-tailing it out of there (which seemed like the far more sensible plan).

Irajah grimaced as she stepped carefully around piles of rubble and overturned furniture. Pausing, she craned her neck, looking up at the damaged floorboards of the level above. She could see light streaming through the cracks- the roof had probably been blown off. Gritty dust fell from above as she heard a creeeeeaaaaaak.

Someone was moving up there.

"Hello?" She called, her eyes casting about for a way up to the second floor. Maw take it, the stairs were a disaster.

"Hello, can you hear me?"

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

The small Pantoran was tip-toeing up the side of a debris mound.

His balance teetered precariously, dust and bits of duracrete trickling over the edge of a chasm in the floor, revealing several layers of strata compressed below - where the lower floors had collapsed in on themselves. The amphistaff's weight shifting and moving was an added frustration, as the boy wound find his balance only to have the creature change its body posture or position.

"Hello?"

The boy froze.

A sound. A voice. Kneeling down, the boy eased back away from the chasm's edge as he listened.

"Hello, can you hear me?"

There it was again. A voice, unmistakable, echoing up from below. Someone was down there, searching through the rubble. And neither situation presented a very positive picture in the boy's mind. The Sith were the bad guys, particularly when one lived among them they became a very real devil you knew. But the Galactic Alliance was also the bad guys, at least according to the Sith.

Which brought up a very thought provoking philosophical question: Was the bad guy of the bad guys also the bad guy? Or would that make them the good guys?

The answer was, he'd rather not find out in either case.

Gingerly picking himself up, the young boy began creeping away in the opposite direction from where he thought the voice to be calling from.

...and he'd have gotten away with it, too, if it hadn't been for that darned amphistaff!

Continuing on down his back, Azi had started to go down his leg. Except, the snake-like form had looped down from his trunk to encircle both legs. And then had constricted as it slipped down his thighs. The sudden lassoing of his legs caused the boy to face plant down on the floor.

The floor then shifted, the slab on which the boy had landed breaking away and tilting precariously on one side.

Gravity being what it is, the Pantoran had gone tumbling. Sliding, falling, and ultimately smacking back down onto a surface that was at least sturdy enough to hold his weight, the child fell from out of the upper floor to land just a few meters apart from where the voice had appeared to have originated.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

With no answer forthcoming and the sounds of movement above her absent, Irajah started looking around for a way up to the second floor. The main stairs were too damaged to traverse safely- she didn't even need to try them to see that clearly. If someone were injured up there, she might have to bring in a team. They had experts in moving safely around a building like this. Her head tilted up, hazel eyes giving the ceiling above her a dubious once over. Stepping carefully around the debris, she shifted to look up in to the hole, wondering briefly if-

A shadow filled the hole.

Irajah knew that, even if the flash of the body seemed small, there was no way she could catch them without injuring them both. She didn't even really have time to curse her own physical limitations before

CRASH

She was moving before the dust even began to settle. She had just enough time to register blue skin, purple hair, bleeding before a twitch told her to look up. The slab above continued to tilt at a less and less stable angle. And then, it began to sliiiiiiide.

Normally, she wouldn't move someone in this position. But the alternatives simply didn't suit. Reaching out, she snatched the scruff of his shirt and with a heave dragged him away. Fortunately, he was small, or this might have ended very differently for both of them. As it was, she couldn't get him as clear as she'd have wanted by the time the slab finally lost it's battle with gravity. Without thinking, she shifted her body, putting her back to the falling duracrete and shielding the boy as it all came crashing down.

While they were both clear of the threat of the slab itself, the fall caused the edges to shatter, showering her with rocks (not all of an insignificant size). She grunted as a particularly large one slammed in to the small of her back but didn't move.

It wasn't until the cacophony of stone ended that she opened her eyes, looking down at [member="Boo Chiyo"] again.

Consciously unlocked her jaw (which had been subconsciously clenched through that whole thing), she finally spoke.

"I'm sorry- are you awake? Can you hear me?"

There were too many things that could have gone wrong. Establishing lucidity was the first thing on her mental checklist.

 

[Zak Dymo]

He'd been slave to a Sith Lord for the last three years.

As such, he was used to being roughed up. It usually wasn't quite the same as being manhandled though. Dark Lords of the Sith rarely got their hands dirty, or used them to pick up much of anything. Let alone a dirty, bloodied, thirty kilo kid.

The world spun in a dizzying vision, before the young Pantoran face-planted in the lobby of the devastated spire. The amphistaff was still encircled around his thin frame, the biot stunned in surprise at the landing. Neither had much time to appreciate the situation they were in, as a hand interjected itself to snatch him up from the ground.

And that was where things got confusing.

First he was picked up, then dragged. Or pulled. Or carried. He was kinda confused on the specifics of what was happening.

Then he was back on the ground, and there was this dark-haired lady kneeling over him. And it kinda sounded like half the building was coming down around them.

...that last part might have been an exaggeration, but this was the mind of an eleven year old.

In any case, the blue-skinned child just sat there, his eyes vacant as his mind was still trying to catch up to everything that had just occurred over the last several seconds. His mouth was agape, though no sound was made. Instead, the boy was just breathing through his mouth. His heart rate was accelerated, his skin clammy... though some of that was doubtless stemming from the adverse effects of the neurotoxin he'd been administered.

That being related to the jagged, open wounds on his left arm. The injury having caked over in dried blood, coloring the forearm a maroon.

"Can you hear me?"

During the scuffle, the amphistaff had coiled back around the child's torso, remaining hidden beneath his shirt. As the woman's voice called to him, the boy's amber eyes flickered up to meet her own. There was a confusion and a panic that were self-evident there, though the boy made no response.

Azi, however, decided that the woman was talking to her. From underneath the shirt collar, the snake-head slid up and out, nudging the boy's head up as the amphistaff extended outward. The onyx-like eyes of the amphistaff seemed to look at the woman for a moment, then the amphistaff shied backward, receding back into the boy's shirt.

Then the amphistaff extended out about a quarter of the way it had before. And when it had stopped, the snout wiggled as though testing the air or sniffing at this new person. And then the biot gave its familiar chirp.

Mew.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

It was impossible to miss the fear and confusion in those eyes, and Irajah's heart twisted, just a little. She didn't, couldn't, know what he'd been through. But even the assumption of surviving the battle and whatever had brought down half of this building was enough.

"It's okay now," she murmured, her voice soft. She wasn't going to lie to him and tell him that nothing could hurt him anymore. Irajah didn't lie to children. But for now, as least- "You're safe right now. My name's Irajah, what's yours-"

She stopped, frozen.

Mew.

The dark haired child danced excitedly around her mother's feet. Barely five years old, she chattered away, explaining the dream she'd had last night.

"-And it's like a snake, mama, but smart. And the warriors carry them and they are friends. But they BITE people they don't like! And they talk! A little. But not in words. In sounds."

Her mother laughed, crouching down to hug her daughter. Cupping her face gently with both hands, she whispered.

"Should we give them a name, Irajah? Like all of the other things?"

The girl nodded, eyes suddenly wide and solemn. Mama always knew what the things in her dreams should be called.

"They should be called amphistaffs. ​Can you say that?"

"Am-fi-staffs," Irajah repeated dutifully. "That's a funny word mama."

Amphistaff.

Irajah found herself sitting in the rubble, very, very slowly. This was the second time that something like this had happened. She hadn't spoken of it at the time. Indeed, the rest of the encounter had been surreal enough without adding in what do you mean, that planet I dreamed of as a child is a real place? Yes, that was exactly what she needed.

"And hello to you too," she finally said. "I'm trusting you are his friend, yes? I'm not going to hurt him. Or you. I promise."

​[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

"I'm not going to hurt him. Or you. I promise."

The Pantoran balked.

Head going back, the child adopted an expression that was astonishingly jaded at hearing those words. He hadn't been sure, but now... this schutta was definitely a Sith.

Nothing was free on Coruscant. Especially help. And promises were just another word for saying 'you owe me.' Which, was itself just another way of explaining how you owned someone's arse.

Well, the joke was on her. Someone already owned his arse. And it wasn't her.

The amphistaff was having an opposite reaction. As the lady spoke, Azi began to wag her tail. This had the effect of slapping the boy on either side of his face. And having the stubby end of the tail go up his nose for a moment.

Demonstrating his proficiency with slap fu, the young boy brought his hands up to protect against the offending advances of the amphistaff and knock the tail away from his face. "She's not my friend," the child uttered, his voice scratchy and quiet. "I hate that sna..."

He got nailed in the mouth by a head-butting amphistaff again.

And since his hands were getting in the way, the snake-like biot slipped it's form around his arms, locking them in the coils like a pair of handcuffs.

The amphistaff went Mew. The kid went "-tt-". Shaking his bloodied arms, he seemed to struggle for a moment in the vain effort at freeing himself from the biot's coils.

When that didn't work, the boy just seemed to resign himself to it. Pushing back away from the woman, the boy rose up on shaking legs. The act of getting up was a little harder than he'd imagined. A sense of vertigo set in and the boy wound up landing back on his butt.

He wasn't gonna walk out of this. Not yet anyway.

"-tt-"

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

"Well, she's not biting you, which might be as close to friend as it gets with them," she said quietly.

The expression on the boy's face was not lost on Irajah. Subtle wasn't a word she would use to describe it, after all. Something in her stomach dropped, and she frowned, ever so slightly. But not because he didn't trust her- that didn't hurt her feelings. But at whatever series of events that had happened to him leading them here. This was more than just being shaken after the battle.

Battle? No. This child had seen a war. And not just the one they were cleaning up after now.

As she was trying to decide how to proceed, her comm squawked. She grimaced.

"Doctor Ven? Are you okay? We heard the cave in from out here. I'm sending in a team."

Still watching Boo, she unhooked the comm from her belt.

"I'm okay, lead. Negative on a team. Repeat, don't send in a team yet. The building is unstable, but we're safe right now."

"We?"

"I'll call for back up when I need it, okay? Ven out."

The boy's aborted effort to stand coincided with that conversation, and she winced when he ended up back on the floor. Putting the comm away, she sat back on her heels, watching him, assessing.

"You've been through a lot, and you shouldn't be pushing yourself," she said, but didn't make any move toward him. She was working on instinct and experience, but she couldn't have told you where one ended and the other began. It wasn't a conscious series of decisions. She was just going to do her best.

"I'd like to examine you, make sure you don't have any serious injuries. But I'm not going to touch you again unless you tell me it's okay. I'm sorry I grabbed you before, but the alternative," she paused, looking over her shoulder at the cave in, before looking back at him, "well, the alternative simply didn't suit. If you don't want me to check you out, that's okay, but I really think *someone* should. I'm here with a team of medics, looking for people injured after the battle. I can call someone else in, if you'd rather."

Instinct told her to give the boy choices- and to respect them when he made them. The whole time she kept her attention on his face, but she was aware of the strange behavior of the amphistaff. Strange? The whole thing was maw cursed strange.

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

"Well, she's not biting you..."

"Oh, that's just Azi," the Pantoran explained, as though that clarified everything. And, from his perspective, it did. The amphistaff liked to get into things. All the things. Everything. But she'd never bitten anyone. And usually tried to keep Arsehole from biting him. "She doesn't bite anything. Not even when I bring food. So I have to put it in the ground mouth for her."

Though, looking at the snake-like biot now... the boy's amber eyes were directed toward the bloodied, stubby end where the amphistaff had previously been attached to its ground mouth. It had just been a vine before. Now it really was just like a snake.

Was she even going to be okay like this? Could she even eat stuff? The ground mouth had done all the eating before...

Eyes flickering up from the snake that was bundled in and around his arms, the child took note of the comm unit and where she kept it. Something like that could be worth some credits. Probably enough to feed him for a week. Or, at least a couple of days.

...if the Galactic Alliance hadn't bombed all the food, too.

Predatory instincts took over, as the boy's mind instantly wandered to the woman's pockets and belt. Did she have a credit cube on her? Would it even be usable if she did? He doubted the cash machines were working on the planet at the moment.

No, it was probably a bartering market. So, that meant the comm unit was going to be more valuable than the credit cube. In the short term anyway.

And the short term was the only thing he really put any thought into. Mainly because he didn't see any reason to think much further than that. Life expectancy for a Sith slave wasn't all that high. He'd probably outlived the margins by at least a year in that regard.

But, he wasn't going to be lifting anything off anybody. Not with a wannabe boa constrictor handcuffing him. Wrestling with his arms, the child against fidgeted and fought against the amphistaff coils binding him. All the while, the snake-like head just kept trying to explore his face... so he kept twisting his head in vain effort at avoiding the amphistaff.

If the good doctor - like there was such a thing - thought that an eleven year old was going to make smart life choices, then she needed more experience with pediatrics. At the question, the boy just fixed the woman with a coldly skeptical glare.

Yeah, he knew doctors all right. Like when he'd had his tonsils out and the doctor had made a bet with the nurse over whether he'd pass out from the pain first, or pass out from asphyxiating on his own blood before then. The doctor was betting on the pain, the nurse was betting on the choking, and the guy who won was the intern who'd bet the kid would soil himself before either happened.

That was the quality of pediatric health care on One Sith Coruscant.

"I'd like you to ka--" He opened his mouth to tell her to kark off and found himself sucking amphistaff.

Spitting, he again twisted his body in the effort at getting away from the biot. For her part, the amphistaff saw an opening to go for the shirt collar and shot down inside of his clothing. A stubby tail jutted out from his sleeve a moment later, wagging happily.

"'sides, my master wouldn't want me experimented on," the child stated, assuming that her medical team was searching for injured so that they could use them as unwilling patients in some kind of experimentation. And it was true. Sorta. If she offer to pay for him, his master would probably hand him over to her quick, fast, and in a hurry.

"So go look for 'research' somewhere else."

Research. Science. Torture. Medicine.

Was there a difference?

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah blinked.

It was a good thing she was already kind of sitting down, because there wasn't a lot of choice but to finish that job. She wasn't accustomed to being verbally slapped in the face by an eleven year old, but that's what it felt like. The venom in his voice- she had no experience to fall back on. This was so much more, so much deeper than what it had appeared on the surface, and Irajah was swimming in darker waters than she realized. And something else, something menacing, lived in these waters.

The smart thing to do would have been to get the hell out of the pool. Chalk this up as a failed attempt and let the kid go on his merry. But Irajah wasn't always very good at knowing when to quit.

And besides, now it was personal.

"I don't know what or who your 'master' is," she said slowly. Her voice was very quiet. Controlled, but with an effort. "But sentient beings don't belong to anyone. And I would never experiment on you. That-"

There, her voice shook a little and she swallowed, hard.

She'd been the subject of experiments. Her entire world had been. She still didn't know who, or why. But someone accusing her of the same behavior- she couldn't make him believe her. She didn't pretend she could. But she wasn't going to let it go without comment either.

"You have a long cut on your arm. And maybe other internal injuries. I'd like to bandage your arm and make sure you aren't bleeding internally. I don't know what, or who, you think we are- I am. I can't make you trust me and I won't try. But I am not here for research. I'm here with the Galactic Alliance, for Aid Work and to help find civilian casualties after the war. I'm a doctor. Not a butcher. We're here to help, not to hurt."

Her voice had turned bitter, the word butcher coming out with more vehemence than she had intended.

"I'm not even asking you to come with me anywhere if you don't want to. If you'll allow it, I'll treat your wound, right here." She breathed in deeply, letting it out slowly. "And if not, all I'm going to do is offer you something to eat, and let you know that there is a refugee station two kilometers east of here. They are offering food and shelter to those whose homes were destroyed. If you wanted."

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

"What kind of doctor helps people?"

The boy uttered the question aloud as soon as it had popped to mind. Doctors helping people? What kind of Galactic Alliance propaganda was she selling here? Seriously, didn't this lady know anything? Doctors just did what they did so they could better understand the limits of humanity. They helped themselves, not other people. Other people just got the receiving end of their work, and often at a rather steep price.

The mention of the puncture wound on his arm caused the boy to use his free hand to try and cover the afflicted limb, as he scooted back along the the ground. When she dropped the f-bomb though -- "food" -- his stomach rumbled loud enough to have been heard in the Empress Teta system.

He hadn't eaten since he'd scraped the leftovers off Darth Scorpius' plate. And that had been... yesterday-ish? Even still... "Nothing's free on Coruscant," the child uttered flatly. Even if the rumors about the Galactic Alliance were true, he couldn't imagine anything just being given away. Especially not food. There were places on this planet where a piece of fruit was worth more than a person's life, and they were just giving away the goods?

How did that even make sense? "...what's the catch?" the boy demanded pointedly.

There was always a catch, or something people weren't telling you.

Like doctors, who said they were there to help.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah couldn't help but smile a little bit at what kind of doctor helps people. But it was a wry smile, absent the usual joy.

"Most of the doctors that I've known are in it to help people," she said quietly. "But I suspect that you and I have wildly different experiences."

Despite her mother's death when she was a teen, Irajah had grown up loved and taken care of. Sure, there were things that had gone wrong back then, but none of it had been big or shattering. Despite the strange questions she been finding in regards to her childhood and her parents over the last few months, there was no doubt of certain things. They had loved her- they had protected her. She had been safe and warm and well fed. She did not consider herself to be naïve to the ways of the galaxy. But she would not pretend that she could understand whatever it was that this boy had been through, either. Her own crucible had been very different, and she had been an adult when it had happened.

Slowly, she shifted around slightly. She was conscious not to make any sudden movements. Rummaging through a pouch on her belt, she withdrew a compressed protein bar. It wasn't *real* food, but it was what she had on her at the moment, and it was nutritionally and calorie dense. She started to reach out with it, then, paused. Her eyes searched his face for a heartbeat. Then, she slowly unwrapped the bar, just one corner of it. Breaking off the smallest amount that she could, she put it in her own mouth, chewing and swallowing before holding the bar out to him again.

"The catch? The catch is that I don't lie awake at night, wondering what happened to you and asking myself if I could have done more," she said evenly. "So, you'd still be doing me a favor. Just one that helps you too I hope."

​[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

Holy Hutt fart.

She honestly believed everything she was saying. If the Galactic Alliance was looking for someone to be their patsy, they seemed to have found her. If they offered her ocean-front property on Tatooine, she'd probably be all in.

...but she had food. And some stuff he could maybe swipe off her for bartering later. And she knew where more food was.

Was acquiescing to her a bad idea? Probably. But the alternative was to turn down the food and then be totally lost looking for some, when she could lead him right to it. In the grand scheme of things, he'd tolerated worse doctors than her.

"Okay," the child conceded finally, scooting forward on his butt as he reached out to take the offered protein bar. His stomach was rumbling audibly, the hunger erasing away some of his anxieties as he was clearly more interested in the instant gratification offered by the protein bar that was just within reach.

Bringing the protein bar toward his mouth, without any hesitation or look of disgust -- as far as he was concerned, he was holding prime rib here -- the amphistaff's head came shooting out from the collar of his shirt. "Hey!" As Azi clamped down on the protein bar, the pair engaged in a brief tug-of-war, before the protein bar slipped out from the packaging and the snake-like biot retreated back into the boy's clothing with the rectangular prize in her mouth.

Leaving the Pantoran there holding the wrapper.

As he waited for the woman to do... whatever she was going to do to him, the purple-haired boy looked back up at the woman and asked, "Can you show me where there's more food?"

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

In different circumstances, the scene that played out might have been funny. As it was, while Irajah was sure the amphistaff was hungry too, she couldn't help but give it a bit of a frown for stealing the whole bar. Okay, maybe not friend indeed.

Slowly, she stood up, absently brushing the dust and debris from her leggings. She had said she wasn't going to touch him again without his permission. And accepting food from her, in her opinion, was not an assent to treatment. She wasn't offering a trade- allow me to look you over and I'll allow you to eat. At this point, getting him fed was at least as important as getting him checked out. Irajah nodded.

"Can you stand?" He'd been too dizzy to get far before, and she was worried he might have a concussion. He could also just be so underfed that the stress of what was happening was simply too much for his frame.

"We'll get somewhere safer than-" she gestured vaguely, encompassing where part of the upper floor had almost crushed them both. "And I'll get you something warm to eat."

She paused, then offered him a hand to help him up. She wouldn't be surprised if he didn't take it.

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

"Can you stand?"

The boy gave the woman another incredulous look of disdain. Could he stand? Was a Hutt fat? What kind of question was that? Of course he could stand. He was just choosing to sit here because...

...because reasons.

"Yeah," the boy tossed back haughtily. Take your faux concern to go play doctor with someone who gives a damn, lady. That being said, or thought in the latter case, the boy then proceeded not to move. He needed a moment or two in order to psych himself up for this.

He looked at the offered hand, and then made a point of turning his head away. "-tt-" As if he would take help. Especially free help. Especially especially Galactic Alliance help. When he started to come up from the floor, he actually made it about two-thirds of the way up before his legs started wobbling.

Earthquake? Was the building's foundation starting to give out? Oddly enough, [member="Irajah Ven"] didn't seem to be having any trouble. Then the room began to spin. At that point, the boy's hand started flailing as he reached out and grasped at the air in an effort at finding the hand she'd offered him earlier.

He came down on his knees, doubled over as nausea hit. Of course, he'd thrown up the contents of his stomach earlier, so now there wasn't really anything to toss. Some bile, but not much. It was mostly just coughing and hacking through dry heaves as the vertigo wracked his body.

"Okay, so... maybe not so well," the child remarked bitterly, bringing the back of his hand up to wipe some spittle away from the corner of his mouth.

 

[Kuzo]

She'd withdrawn her hand at his '-tt-', waiting and watching. If he'd actually fallen over, she would have tried to catch him- respect be damned if he was going to conk his head on the floor. When his hand reached out though, her fingers caught his. It wasn't enough to keep him upright. It was just.... a hand.

But it was there when he went looking for it.

Kneeling down again, she took a small light from her pocket.

"I think before we can go anywhere, I need to see if you have a concussion," she said, her tone worried. "It's not going to hurt, but I do need you to look up at me so I can see your eyes, okay?"

The dizziness, the vomiting. It wouldn't surprise her if, in all of this, he'd hit his head at some point. This was the closest she'd been to him when they weren't dodging rocks. And now that she could look him over a little better, she frowned. The light forgotten in her hand for a moment, her gaze was on the puncture wound on his arm.

"Did Azi.... bite you?"

There might be a more straight forward reason to what was going on, she realized.

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

He grabbed hold of her hand and didn't let go as he leaned on her.

Truthfully, this was probably the first time that he'd ever reached out for help and found it. It was frightening and reassuring at the same time. He was afraid to let go, in case it disappeared or left him when he needed it. Like so many things before.

"...look up at me so I can see your eyes, okay?"

That was a weird request. "Okay," the boy answered with a shrug. Turning his head up, the boy's amber eyes stared up. They were bloodshot, with bags under them. His face was flush, as though the child was feverish.

With the puncture wounds in mind, he probably presented many of the symptoms of snakebite experienced with neurotoxic venom. And, indeed, that was the next question that came.

As if recognizing her name, the diamond-shaped head of the snake-like biot reappeared. Boo's head tilted back, as he was popped under the chin as the amphistaff lid out from the collar of his shirt. The stubby tail jutting out from his sleeve wagged in a seemingly friendly manner.

"No, that was a different... a different amphistaff," Boo noted, which probably confirmed the woman's suspicions as to the origin of some of his symptoms. Still, if he'd been bitten by an amphistaff and was this functional, it was probably a safe bet it wasn't his first time. And, indeed, if she inspected his arms she'd probably find scars from similar puncture wounds -- his arms marked up like a heroine addict.

Azi made a dive for the good doctor. Not to bite. She was looking for an article of clothing to dive into, or hair to run through.

Letting go of the woman's hand, the young Pantoran reeled the amphistaff back before. "I... I don't think Azi knows how to bite." the boy said, as he held the serpentine mass in his hands. For her part, Azi just looked at the doctor and gave another mew.

"She usually tries to keep the other amphistaff from biting me when I'm feeding them."

[member="Irajah Ven"]​

 

[Kuzo]

As Irajah's gaze skirted across his arm and the marks there, she had a million questions. But now was not the time. Perhaps there never would be a time. But right now was most decidedly not it. Instead she nodded, accepting his words, believing him, not just the words he was saying, but the unspoken as well. His body told a story, and one that she did not like the authors of very much at all.

At least he didn't have a concussion? Hurray for that.

"Well, if you don't think she'll bite me, I don't mind if she comes over here," Irajah said with a smile. Finding that smile was harder than she would have liked.

Let him focus on moving, rather than on wrangling Azi.

There was a long, low creaaaaaaaak from above them, and Irajah glanced up, brow furrowed with worry.

She kept her hand available to the boy, waiting to start moving until he was ready.

[member="Boo Chiyo"]

 

[Zak Dymo]

The amphistaff's head perked up.

Peering over as the woman uttered the name aloud, the snake-like biot coiled around the child's arm. Mew?

Yes, it sounded like a question.

The lady seemed like she wanted to get out of the building. If it even was a building anymore. And the young Pantoran wasn't really sure. It was all just kind of a mess right now. And seemed like it was probably about to come crashing down. The boy wobbled as he took a couple of steps, reaching out for the lady's hand in order to steady himself as he stumbled forward.

Hopefully toward food.

Sniffling, the child brought his free hand up in order to wipe his nose, which had started to run. Sliding down his arm, the amphistaff used the hand holding as a bridge to slide over toward the doctor. Pausing up her forearm, the black biot just looked at the woman as it stuck its nose out, as though curious about her long hair. Then, rearing back, gave another chirp.

Mew.

[member="Irajah Ven"]​