Red and Green

[Vrak Nashar]

Ruusan
[member="Taheera Sollo"]

He scowled as he wandered through the dense foliage, his boots crunching every now and again as broken sticks and half rotten branches snapped beneath his path. The mask on his face felt heavy, his robes weight him down, and he felt beyond tired. His fingers still clenched his lightsaber hilt, blood dripped down his arm and he felt as though he were about to pass out.

A sigh escaped his lips as he went crashing against one of the nearby trees.

"Curse that woman." He spat, anger hissing through his voice.

He hadn't expected to be followed here, hadn't expected her to try and strike at him in a place like this. Neither of them considered Ruusan sacred of course, but it wasn't a place that Sith often traveled to, especially their kind. This world belonged to the Jedi, it wasn't somewhere they often went. Oh sure the Trimuvirate had owned this world not too long ago, but what were they now? Nothing.

They had lost here, even if they'd claimed victory.

"I'll get her for this." He groaned out as he pushed away from the tree. "Kark the Elders."

There had long since been trouble at him, at least for him. That was the way of the Sith, rivalry, infighting for dominance. It was how things had gone for a thousand years, and now was no different. Even on his world there were people scrambling for power, the smallest scrap, the tiniest fraction of opportunity. For them Vrak wasn't someone to be respected and feared, not yet anyway, and that just meant he was a target.

Particularly for one woman.

He let out another curse and then stumbled forward, he had to get home. Teach her to fear him.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

The Alliance shuttle was locked down in a clearing a click or so away. The Mirialan had jogged a good distance away through a winding path in the darkening woods. The moon lilies would be worth it, though. Locals said the plants, when broken down correctly, had some significant healing powers. Even close to bacta.

It would be a good alternative to have and report back any research to the Circle of Healers.

And there was something beautiful about Ruusan. Maybe the darkness just brought out more of the beauty of its three moons. A hand wiped across her tattooed-brow that was slick with moister. A small tracking device lit up in her hands as she checked the coordinates.

She was close. The moon lilies should be right...

"Ah-ha," she breathed quietly and stepped from the path, fingers reaching up to pluck the gentle purple petals from the rough bark. Head cocked to the side as a twig snapped in the distance. Probably just some frightened animal. Attention went back to the plant as the wind picked up and wove through strands of chestnut hair.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

The wounds in his side were beginning to burn.

Poison.

Another curse escaped his lips, the mask across his face starting to make it difficult to breath. He wheezed slightly, his vision blurring. His free hand slowly reached over and touched his ribs, feeling the deep cuts there. He hadn't expected the assassin to pull a knife. The saber-staff had been a distraction, and it explained the mans improper use...but the knife...oh the knife. He should have expected a trick, he should have seen it coming.

He had been trained by the four Blademasters of Athiss, he was the greatest in a generation they had said, but like a first year student he had been tricked by a simple knife. Another curse, a heavy cough as his lungs threatened to push all the air from him.

Vrak doubled over, half collapsing against a tree again before catching himself. His fingers tightened on the lightsaber hilt again, as though it would somehow help him. He took in a deep breath, the mask obscuring any fresh air that might have been granted. His body swayed, but slowly he continued his trek forward. He had to make it off Russan, he had to make it back to Athiss, he had to make that schutta pay for what she had done to him.

That was a fact.

The Sith wandered forward, eyes slowly picking out a figure between the trees.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

Pluck, pluck, pl-SNAP.

There it was again. And closer. Moon lilies tucked away in her bag. Sharp-eyes lifted as she felt a flickering of pain through the force. A glint of the setting sun caught something metallic in the trees and...

Myrtle ellipses widened.

A snap of a twig as she took a step back. Mask, garb, what she was sensing through the force. Certainly not a jedi. Body tensed up. Fingertips rested on the handle of her blaster as she finally found her voice.

"Stop. Unless you want to get shot. I don't want any trouble and you look full of it." Another step back, keeping herself partially hidden in the growing shadow of the trees and closer to her ship.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

A voice rang out to him.

Another Assassin? No. It was a warning. He smiled a grim smile, relief flowing through him as he realized he wouldn't have to fight another one of her little minions. They weren't powerful, not really, but each one seemed to have a dozen tricks up his sleeve. That made them annoying, and in his current state there was no way he would be able to deal with any of those tricks. He frowned slightly, eyes wandering over the heavy foliage as he tried to see where the voice ad come from.

"Come out." The order was barked.

A blaster didn't seem like too much of a threat. The force was still with him, he could feel it. The mask was still heavy on his face, breathing was still difficult, but he could still deflect a blaster bolt, he could still fight an ordinary being. He was confident of that at least.

Vrak took another step forward.

Then he fell.

With a heavy thud Vrak tumbled to the ground, the poison pushing through his veins, lightsaber slipping from his fingers and tumbling just half a foot away from him.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

Lips thinned as an order was barked. This one certainly had a high and mighty-

CRASH-THUNK

Cautiously, she stepped from a shadow into another, then stepped clear. What she assumed to be a sith had collapsed. The force echoed a minor warning. "Hmm," she grumbled. She really should just leave. Maybe when she was in the other body, a few years ago, she would've just rushed to this being's side and helped him - not matter what he was or represented.

But she wasn't that naive anymore.

She'd fought in wars. Been captured by a man posing as a sith and he'd warned her that sith weren't like him. And she knew that was true.

Yet, at her heart she was a healer, even with the essence transfer. Well, even that she was starting to doubt. Would the Circle of Healers help him? What if helping him would kill thousands more? Val wouldn't have hesitated to kill him. Probably. Or just walk away.

She edged closer.

Lightsaber hilt stayed on her belt. Blaster was in her hand, pointed at the sith's torso. She paused, a couple yards away.

"Hey. HEY!"

Free hand extended as she went to wrap the force around his abandoned lightsaber hilt on the ground to bring it into her free and outstretched green palm.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

His head was spinning, his mind was half gone. What had been on that blade? He felt as though the blood rushing through his veins was slowly evaporating, disappearing with every beat of his heart. He struggled for air, his fingers curling.

He just barely managed to register his lightsaber being pulled away, his hand reaching for it sluggishly.

She was a force user? Jedi. Had to be. This was their world, their planet. They had once had a site here, a Valley of some sort. The texts back on the libraries spoke of it, though many had always assumed it was just a simple myth. HE scowled behind his mask, rage, indignation burning through him. He should have killed her, stepped forward and pressed his blade through her. Now she saw him like this, weak, defenseless, she would surely kill him.

It was what he would have done.

His fingers curled.

Blood was slowly seeping into his clothes and he felt himself get weaker and weaker, his head began to spin. What was he going to do? The force still trickled through him, as it always did, but even the darkside could not help him in this. The witch back home would have anticipated that, she would have picked something that would sap his strength. Synox venom?

He coughed again, gasping for air. "Help....me."

It was worth a shot. Jedi were well known fools.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

She didn't move, though her muscles coiled tightly. Barking orders one minute and pleading the next. She trusted this stranger about as much as the vacation get-away ads for Corellia. And considering the state Corellia was in...well was once in, rather.

She couldn't leave him like this because she was who she was. And it would be as bad as naively healing him and trusting him. That left one option.

She stuffed his lightsaber hilt in her bag with the moon lillies and zipped it closed. She inched closer. "Trespassing in Alliance space." Was it? Well, certainly trespassing, regardless. "You're being taken into custody." She had to stabilize him. And knock him out. There were drugs back at the ship but there wasn't time for that. Blaster raised and her finger squeezed down on the trigger.

Four quick stun-bolts leaped out of the nozzle and would go to bury themselves into the prone sith if he didn't move or block them in some way.

Should be enough to knock him out so she could get closer look without getting stabbed...or worse.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Technically he wasn't trespassing anywhere.

Ruusan wasn't anywhere near Alliance space and the only government that ruled on this world was whatever had been left after the collapse of the Sith Triumvirate, a government that likely would have been rather friendly to Vrak and his kind. Of course, Taheera didn't know this, and in truth she was just a healer who was well aware of the dangers she faced, so perhaps she was just under a little pressure.

Vrak was about to object, and then the stun bolts hit him.

One would have been enough to knock him out, but instead she struck him with four.

The first two ensured he was gone, even with the force trickling through him, the third caused his body to seize, and the fourth sent him quickly spiraling into cardiac arrest. She would be able to see the sudden curling of his fingers, the seizure running through his body, and the involuntary spasm that took him.

Perhaps she had overdone it with the stun bolts.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

Well...frex. His size should've taken that. And it should've just knocked him out longer. Maybe her power setting on her blaster was too strong. Or, he was more injured than she first thought.

Regardless of the reason, her blaster was holstered and she was at his side in a nanosecond. Hands roughly turned his convulsing body over so he was on his back. Fingers peeled the mask away. One palm went over her hand as she dug into his blood-soaked robes for chest compressions.

C. P. R.

After the compressions, she hesitated over his face. Green fingers already pinching his red-nose closed. "Frex me," mumbled, then bent down, tilting his chin back as her purple lips encircled his cold, red ones and she blew air into his lungs.

She'd be washing her mouth out with soap for months after this.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

His eyes snapped open.

Vrak's heart thundered in his chest, and his immediate reaction was to lash out. In truth he didn't do it on purpose, and a part of him might have even felt sorry...a very, very small part, but as soon as he awoke Vrak shot his hand up.

The fingers at his side curled, his hand striking like a viper as it reached up and sought to curl around her throat.

The grip would not be tight, the Poison was still flooding through his veins, weakening him. It was slowly beginning to effect his muscles, pushing into him and further doing damage. He had no idea what this substance was, no clue what had been upon that blade, but every moment that passed he could feel it sapping away his strength. Still, he couldn't help but strike out, the Jedi had shot him, she had revived him too...but his addled mind couldn't comprehend that.

So he attempted to grasp her and pin her by the throat, holding her above him just so he could see what she actually was.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

The warning in the force wasn't as fast as his fingers. She was just lifting her head away from his mouth when she felt the pressure on her slender neck and a sudden lift. Knees scraped in the dirt at his side. One green palm latched around his wrist. Her other fingers wedged their tips between his palm and her throat to keep him from sapping her neck.

Surprise, annoyance, and a hint of anger flashed across her face as she was held in place above him, peering down at his now very conscious face. Chestnut strands of hair caught the light of the growing moons at it framed either side of her tattooed cheeks. Next time she would shoot him ten times.

"Release.....me," she rasped, eyes squinting at his body in the darkness. Healer's eye saw it there, Seeping from the blood at his side and moving through his system. "Or the poison.....will.....finish you......off.....soon." She'd apply to his vanity. Most sith were vain. If that didn't work, the force was flowing through her and she'd take more aggressive measures.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

His fingers tightened for half a second, then her words rung through his skull.

It was an argument that appealed to him. He knew that the poison was still tearing through his body, making him weak. Without the stun shots he might have been able to survive it, but his heart was no pumping slower, his mind was addled, and his breathing had slowed to a crawl. Vrak wouldn’t make it the night if he continued on like this.

He needed help.

”Fix.” His voice was strained, a half whisper forced through his throat. The mask was no longer obstructing his breathing, but it was still difficult to speak, near enough impossible to get air. ”Me.”

His fingers slowly released her.

There was a confidence in the action. She was a Jedi, he was confident of that now, and perhaps even if she wasn’t a healer she knew someone who was. Either way Vrak knew that he needed something to at least get him through the night.

He needed to get back to Athiss.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

She gasped and hunched over in the pine-straw as she was released. Fingers massaged the skin around her throat. She glared at him in the moonlight. "Trying to."

Big red jerk-face.

She definitely had second thoughts. Doctor-voice found its way back into her tone as she stood, tugging at his arm so it went around her neck and shoulders.

Yup, definitely taking a sanisteam for an entire day after this and washing mouth out with soap. Plenty of soap. "Stand up. I can't help you here." Well, she could a little but she couldn't risk bringing him back to her ship almost fully healed. "You need to walk with me. Or are you too weak?"

Another jab at his pride. Vanity. She knew how the darkside worked - maybe a little too well. She needed that spark of anger coursing through his system. If he stood, one of her other arms would wrap around his waist. The force would pump strength and speed through her limbs so she could half carry and drag him along to the clearing that her ship was currently parked.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Indignation pushed him through the pain and to his feet, a snarl pulling at his lips as she spoke to him. The idea that she would even...address him...pure disgust ran through him. He wasn’t sure if it was directed at himself, or the woman helping him, but he knew that if any on Athiss ever learned of this story he would need to quickly slaughter those that spoke of it.

That idea made him smile a bit.

His fingers latched onto her, gloved hands finding purchase as he struggled to remain upright. She was only slightly smaller than him, and that made it easier. Together they limped forward, though in truth Vrak had absolutely no idea where they were going. His vision was a blur, his ears filled with the sound of his own pumping blood.

Everything was...hazy.

A scowl painted almost permanently on his lips, the confident smirk replaced by misery.

They moved quickly through the trees, the foliage parting before them into a clearing where a ship was located. His eyes wandered over the vessel as they drew nearer. He searched for markings, symbols, something that would identify where she had come from.

He needed that at least.

A cough wracked his lungs and he nearly doubled over, a blood vessel bursting in his eye as he desperately tried to gasp for air.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

He would see the Galactic Alliance symbol on the standard shuttle. The ship's ramp lowered. She quickened her pace, feeling his pain through the force and his...pride. Oodles of it. She tried to keep her eyes from rolling as she deposited his form at the top of the ramp before disappearing deeper into the shuttle.

There was a small cabin on the left with two bunks. A small cargo hold on the right, cantina wedged next to that and then a curve in the short hallway to the cockpit. She was back at his side in a blur.

Stun cuffs were in one hand and bacta patches in the other. She went to tug his arms behind his back to cuff them. "There is NO way I'm healing you without some kind of insurance. I'm not THAT foolish. So struggle and argue all you want but that's the deal. You wear the stun cuffs and I heal you or I drag you back off this ship and leave you to your fate. What'll it be?"

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

Inwardly he cursed.

Perhaps Jedi weren’t all the fools he thought them to be. He had expected her to just heal him, fix him up and then turn around with pride and walk away. The idea would have been a nice one, but perhaps a bit too perfect. His scowl told of the displeasure he felt at the situation, one eye now nearly filled with red from the burst blood vessel.

Finally, after a wheezing breath entered his lungs he nodded.

The Jedi moved forward almost instantly, stun cuffs slipping into place around his wrists. He felt an odd surge of power, but the things would activate to stun him unless he fiddled with the controls and tried to escape, or she pressed the remote button that would likely send him spiraling into cardiac arrest.

The idea of...well this was humiliating. She should have been honored to heal him, she should have felt a sense of pride at even being allowed to touch him, but instead she put him in stun cuffs. His lips curled in a snarl as they snapped into place and she went to work.

The Jedi would pay for this, right along with that schutta back on Athiss.

He would make sure of it.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

As if reading his thoughts, she muttered under her breath as she began to gently clean his wounds. "Don't make me regret this." Still, he was in stun cuffs. She shouldn't be too worried. But she was.

Kneeling once again at his side, she let her hands hover over his form. Taking a deep breath, she centered herself in the force. The lightside gathered around her in a warm-blanket. Sensing the poison, she began urging it from his system and back out of the wound of its origin. It would hurt, a lot. But it was necessary.

And painstakingly slow work. The poison had almost gotten to his heart. She continued to urge it from his system. The poison came out as a sticky, yellow liquid, dripping on her deck flooring.

"Someone really did a number on you," she frowned, not really wanting to know they why or the how.

 

[Vrak Nashar]

[member="Taheera Sollo"]

He wasn’t sure if it was the poison, or the method of healing, but pain immediately wracked his body. He seized, his fingers curling, his muscles tightening involuntarily. His teeth ground together and he gasped as the agony pulled through him.

His eyes, one already bloodshot, popped open as though he had just been stabbed with a needle full of adrenaline.

Vrak could feel his heart thunder in his chest, he could feel the poison almost quite literally being pushed through his veins. He felt like his entire body was objecting to the process, as if his very soul was being torn from him. He cried out, his cuffed together hands suddenly slamming against the metal bed.

A hiss escaped him.

Then...then it was over.

Relief flooded over him, his mind quickly began to clear, but the strain on his body had been too much, and just as he felt his muscles relax...Vrak passed out.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

[member="Vrak Nashar"]

"Thank the stars," she muttered as his head hit the decking. She felt dizzy herself. Healing and using the force up until this point, had been a lot. She needed to rest. But she had a prisoner. And she didn't have Val around to watch her back.

Tempting to drag the sith down the ramp and leave him.

But he was her responsibility now. She had to bring him in and hand him off to the Alliance authorities for trial. A bone-weary sigh left her lips. Hands gently pressed the bacta patch over his wound. Carefully, she cleaned up the leftover poison and disposed of it. Coming to his shoulders, hands hooked under his and she dragged him to the little cabin.

Now she'd have to wash her sheets after this too. In some serious bleach.

She dragged and pushed him on the bottom bunk with on last heave. Wearily, she staggered back, eyeing him over one last time. This was going to be an interesting ride. She'd planned for moon lilies and not a prisoner.

Turning on her heal, she trudged the short distance to the cockpit, getting the comms ready so she could send a message to the Alliance ahead of time. The remote stunner for the cuffs was in her pocket.