Scenes from Black Star Station

[Tryp West]

Set before events in The Dead of Black Star Station​

She'd promised him an in to get a small store of first aid portable bacta. Of course, that 'in' involved her connections with the Sith Empire. She was up front about it, and he accepted it without particular comment. It wasn't a secret or nefarious, but she hadn't been entirely sure how he'd react. As far as she was concerned, she needed work. If other people had been paying? Well, she would have taken other jobs. But as it was, the Core was in chaos, and the Sith had the credits. And when the choice came down between eating and not eating, well. Tryp was a practical sort.

They'd stopped at Black Star Station as a way point.

Of course, that wasn't how it went.

****

Day 3

The outbreak had spread rapidly once it took hold. At first it seemed like it must be airborne, in which case, they were all karked it was just a matter of time.

That didn't mean either of the pair were laying down and giving up.

"CORNER!"

Tryp swung the heavy pipe, connecting with one of the 'dead' (and they most certainly were dead) with a sickening thwump.

"Back up back up!"

With Jack leading the way, Tryp at the rear, the small group of eccentrically armed spacers made it to the supply rooms they'd been heading toward, Tryp slamming the door and activating the magnetic lock behind them. Looking around, she caught Jack's eye across the group, nodding that she was okay, and catching his answering nod in return.

"Al'aight folks, grab whatcha need. Blasters're useless 'gainst 'em, so dun bother wit' da gas refills. Dun t'ink dey got slugs in 'ere, but les keep an eye out."

Tryp was running low on ammo and while a body shot didn't do much, something straight to the eye or up through the bottom of the chin seemed to get the job done.

Carefully, she picked her way through the dozen or so people until she reached Jack's side.

"Dis ain't gonna last." She murmured softly, glancing around. "Dey're listenin' fer now, but panic's gonna set in soon."

She didn't have to tell him that. With his zeltron blood he'd be able to feel it.

[member="Jackson Singh"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Tryp West"]

He did feel it.

It was putting him on edge like woah.

In general Jackson tried to avoid situations like these, high-stake drama or just general clouds with negative emotions. If there were enough of them it threatened to give him a migraine times ten. This... this was time twenty, but Jack kept it in. Kept his teeth lodged together as they moved through the motions, while trying to keep these people alive as best as they could.

They had lost Cody maybe two hours back.

Jack still felt it.

He had made sure to shatter his skull, before escaping from that freezer, because that was the only thing he could do for him. "Yah, I know." Jacky murmured, before softly pulling her in and depositing a kiss on her brow. Then letting her go- nothing more they could do here.

Not when they had to make sure these people stayed alive... stayed sane.

He did the best he could? Soothed their fething shet with what he got, but Jack had never trained that aspect of his Zeltron being. Feeling what they felt was one thing, but blunting the edge of what they felt? That was something entirely else. "We stick close to one anotha', no matter what." It wasn't a question, not for Jack. Yeah. He wanted to help these people.

But this was Tryp.

And that mattered more to him.

"You guys fine?" Singh called out to a couple of their followers. Haunted eyes, mouth twitching at the corner, panic. They had been eyeing them instead of grabbing the supplies around. Just a few nods, then they went back to it. But it didn't do anything to sooth his feelings. "The elevator we passed was still aight. If we can get through dat small group of zeds? We can get through to the barracks."

Where the security group would have stored their gear.

 

[Tryp West]

He said that and she paused, just looking at him for a moment. Not because the words themselves, but the implications. She nodded, but there was some hesitation there. Chances were good that this would be short term, after all- the distress signal would have gone out by now and someone from the nearby Corporate Sector or Sith Empire would come and sort it out. They just needed to hang in until whenever that was. A couple of days at most.

Right?

There was not a single part of Tryp that thought it would stretch out longer than that. Sure, Black Star Station wasn't a major way point, but it was enough of one.

Ultimately, the problem lay in that neither the CS nor the TSE considered it 'theirs'.... and that would delay everything.

But for now, she nodded.

Not believing for a moment that it would come down to that. She had faith in people- oh she wasn't blind, didn't think that this was sustainable because people were ultimately scared and scared meant unreliable. But she thought they could hold out for a couple of days.

Technically, she was right.

There was a general murmur of agreement from most of the group, but there were a couple people too shell shocked to respond. Tryp's hand slipped into Jack's and she squeezed slightly, drawing his attention there.

"Should we split?" She didn't mean, them, just the group as a whole. "I dun t'ink they 'ave it in dem- we could come back fer 'em after we clear da way ta da lift."

[member="Jackson Singh"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Tryp West"]

Jack glanced over to the ones too traumatized to even voice their opinions.

Eyes absent, shaking, shivering, their emotions were a cloud of pain and fear. It was overwhelming every other sense they might have had and that made them not just a liability to themselves, but potentially those around them. He frowned, jaw clenching and unclenching a few times, while he pondered it. Tryp was right, but that didn't make it easy.

"Dun wanna leave anyone behind..." Jack trailed off softly before nodding finally. "But ya right, they'd just be a danger for 'emselves."

More a danger to them though.

"I will try an' explain, ya mind checking the others? See if they got a weapon or sumthin'." He'd have done it himself. Didn't like the look some of them were giving her, giving him, but right now Jack was the only one who was getting any response from the shell-shocked ones. It was because he could coax it out with his empathy, so this was necessary.

He nuzzled her softly, hand squeezing hers before detaching to go towards the small group.

Natural instinct caused them to already stick close to one another. They felt something was wrong with them and they felt it in each other too.

 

[Tryp West]

While Jack dealt with those too shell shocked to fend for themselves, Tryp circulated with the others. Some of them just gave her tight nods. Some....

Well, some of them were more dangerous than the dead they were coming up against.

When she met their eyes, she knew it. And they knew she knew.

"Eh, Tabby, gotcher self somefing?"

The Gamorrean female nodded with a grunt, and Tryp sketched her a two finger salute as she watched the other woman heft a canister that probably weighed as much as Tryp did like it was a baseball bat. Fortunately, Tabby wasn't one of the ones she was worried about. Keep close to that one, given half a chance for sure.

"Oye, 'ere's da plan," she called out once she reached the door. Her voice wasn't loud, but she knew how to make it carry.

"'OO put you in charge, eh?"

"No one," she retorted, "Dinna say ya 'ad ta come. Jes tellin' ya what Jack an' I," she indicated across the room with her chin, "Are gonna do. Stay 'ere if'n ya'd rather. Dun bother me none."

She knew that most of them would come with them, once the plan was clear.

"We're gonna make fer da lift- small groupa dem-" they all knew who 'them' was "- a'tween us an' da barracks. We're gonna hit der, arm ourselves proper, cause we ain't all Tabby," she smiled at the Gamorrean who hoisted the canister a bit higher with a smug snort. "Anyone 'oo dun t'ink dey can make it der an' back, no shame. Barricade yerselves 'ere and we'll come back fer ya. If yer 'urt, stay 'ere, cause yer not doin' anyone good like dat. We'll bring back extra fer anyone 'oo dun come along, savvy?"

[member="Jackson Singh"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Tryp West"]

His voice was soft, touch when they needed it, distance when it was better, the empathy reached out and soothed where possible.

By the end of it Singh was tired.

But the ones that were still the most there understood and would keep the others here. It was difficult, but even a little bit of time here had done much to dull the edge- the first few hours had been hell for Jackson. Heavy negative emotions, pain, agony, fear, they had threatened to overwhelm him. If it hadn't been for Tryp he might have curled up there and then, let himself be trampled. It would have been a quicker death. But he was glad she had been there.

"Ya know the drill." Jack added his voice to hers as he joined her at the forefront of the group. "Don't let 'em touch ya, nails, teeth, saliva, bad time. Take out their head and ya take 'em out. Remember the buddy-system, don't leave ya's outta ya sight."

The buddy system had been Dix's idea... he was gone now, but his idea remained.

Safe's can be.

He leaned in and kissed her brow softly, while the others grouped together with their duo. "I'll be ya buddy, if ya wanna be mine?" The joke came murmured softly. It was the best he could do right now.

 

[Tryp West]

"Eh dunno," she said, straight faced. "Tabby made me an offer I might not be able ta' refuse."

A beat and then a smirk. She liked that they were the same height, because she could just lean in for a quick kiss before tilting her forehead against his.

"Ain't no one I'd trust more," she murmured, in case the fact she'd been joking wasn't 100% clear.

Though, Tabby would have been an excellent partner. If he hadn't been there, Tryp would have paired up with the Gamorrean woman in a zeptosecond. She was steady, strong, handled herself well and had already shown she'd watch someone's back. Either way, Tryp intended on sticking close to that one- both for her own sake and for Tabby's.

As one of the few clearly non-humans here, there was some concern on the part of the kiffar just how that was going to play out once the chips were down.

Once everyone who was coming was ready, the group headed out, locking the door behind them. They'd be back, if they could, for the ones who couldn't manage.

If they could.

Inwardly, Tryp grimaced. She knew all too well that was in flux. But she also knew if they'd been forced to come they'd have been an even greater liability.

Out in the corridors, the group stayed quiet- as much as was possible for a full dozen people. Tryp and Jack stayed close to each other. It wasn't far to their destination, but of course it was never easy.

The dead reached them just as they hit the lifts.

[member="Jackson Singh"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Tryp West"]

They walked in silence.

Steps muffled and placed as carefully as was possible.

Sound attracted them, the less sound they made, the better it would be.

Until it didn't matter, of course. The moment they hit the lifts, the zeds shambled forward, surging with renewed vigor. "Get the controls." Jack murmured to her before stepping forward and meeting the surge head-on with a strong swing from his wrench. It connected hard with the first undead's head. The reason why Jack pushed Tryp into handling the controls was simple: only one he trusted here. If they let one of the others do it... he didn't want to think about that.

Not right now.

He found himself shoulder-to-shoulder with Tabby.

Both of them stayed firm as around them the others did their best to keep a firm line. It wouldn't hold, Jack felt it in his veins. There was panic and his soothing wasn't going to keep them calm for very long. Tryp had to figure the crap out soon.

Or they'd get overwhelmed.

Screams, shouts, pain, some of theirs were snatched.

This was a losing battle.

 

[Tryp West]

It was hard. Ignoring the pitched fighting going on behind her while she did a forced reroute of power to the lift. Tryp was a reasonable sort- pragmatic and used to doing things that didn't always *feel* right but were. This was a severe strain on that. Especially considering the how of her reroute.

Tryp wasn't actually a mechanical wiz. Oh sure, she knew her stuff just fine, but this was actually beyond her skills. However, she had one thing that made it possible.

Psychometry.

As soon as he'd told her to take care of it, Tryp had nodded, pulling her glove off with her teeth as she approached. There was no hesitation as she pressed her hand to the panel-

And let the experiences of the people who had touched it before wash over her.

The most recent one was the worst.

She had to wade through the terror and fear as someone (she never saw their face, she never did) frantically pushed buttons. Hoping, praying that one of them would work, would call the lift. She could hear the sound of the dead coming, superimposed on the reality behind her, almost suffocating in the stomp drag cadence of death looming. She could feel the terror choking off her throat, the pounding of her head, the sob welling up and filling every inch of her lungs.

And Tryp grunted as teeth entered shoulder, dragged down hard- the memory only letting go when the woman's hand had left the panel.

The Kiffar pushed through, past that one, sifting as quickly as possible until-

Bingo.

One of the engineers.

Using the knowledge gleaned from that nameless Rodian, Tryp rerouted power, her hands moving quickly, letting the muscle memory of that engineer take over. She didn't like to do that often- it was disorienting and frankly not good for her.

But not getting the lift working would be even worse.

"GOT IT!"

The doors ground open with a whine.

[member="Jackson Singh"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Tryp West"]

More people fell.

It was the way of things, but his wrench came down hard on the exposed back of the neck, just as the undead tried to bite down hard on Tabby. There was no time to exchange thanks, because a new wave was already ramping up. They would have crumbled right here and then. Then the ping of the lift doors echoed through the hall and offered them salvation.

"Orderly, one by one!" Jack shouted as they slowly backed down before stepping through himself. Last one, of course. That was just the way things went right now- someone had to do it.

Why not him?

Tryp punched the button and the elevator doors slid shut just as a zed reached out with his arm, it cut straight through it. Letting it drop to the ground, where it flopped around with a comedic sense. Well, it would have been funny. If not for the fact that they had lost about... maybe some less than half of their numbers during that last fight and then some.

"Hey," His hand softly touching her elbow. "You ok-"

Head tilted as he felt something echoing through his senses.

It was pain and fear, but it had a different kind of connotations. The noises in the elevator were loud as the people cried and talked and made plans, but Jack looked over his shoulder and saw the man in the corner of the small space. Keeping to himself, trying not to attract their attention. Jack knew. Knew and felt it. Looking back at Tryp, he leaned in and murmured in her ear.

"Left corner, bit. Problem."

 

[Tryp West]

She was about to answer 'yeh, I wasn't da one doin' da 'ard part,' but that wasn't how the next few minutes played out.

Tryp's mouth closed, her back teeth grinding together. What was his name? Malus, something like that. A freighter pilot. She gave Jack the barest of nods. They had time, before it went bad. Not long, but long enough to get out of the lift- assuming the barracks weren't thronged with the dead of course. Better to get everyone out of the way, rather than start a scene in such an enclosed space.

Her hand curled into his. There was no saving the man, they both knew it. They could only save everyone else.

Since when, she wondered, had they become the heroes?

It was never how she thought of herself.

Of course, planning to kill a man before he killed everyone else wasn't really heroic.

Her mouth set in a grim line.

It was simply necessary.

Not that things ever went according to plan. The doors of the lift opened onto the barracks, the sound of a half dozen simultaneous whiiiiiiines as that many blaster carbines and pistols were leveled their way by the people already there. Pandemonium erupted, the folks occupying the barracks shouting for them to get their karking hands up if they weren't dead (so strange, a small part of Tryp's mind, all the way in the back, almost giggled), while their own side started bringing weapons to bear and shouting back essentially the same thing.

[member="Jackson Singh"]

 

[Delaney Wilder]

[member="Tryp West"]

There was a noise in his ears.

This is how it always went- you dig yourself out of war, bloodshed, pain and once it starts up again everything turns red. His revolver was already raised up high and aiming at one of them on the other side. It was simply instinct and his finger was already on the trigger. He had picked out the most important target. Their leader, he could smell him, saw him, he had a red shine around him and it coaxed Jack into paying attention to him.

It was what Singh had done back in the bad days.

Funny how easy it came back to him just with a single breath.

His influence -- had he not been tired? It seemed far away now -- started to spread through the room and choked out their presence. Calming the agitated, drowning out the noise and trying to regain himself.

"Can't hold this for long, Tryp." Jack grunted between clenched teeth as a lull in their momentum appeared. If anyone was to do anything, fight, talk, discuss, it would have to be now. But Jack couldn't do both at once and he knew it. It took all his concentration to keep that barrel level and his empathy blunting the sharp edge that was currently doing its hardest to return.

The shouts dimming as they simply stared at one another.

 

[Tryp West]

Tryp was exhausted. Exhausted in every way a person could be. She had been hoping, for a minute, that someone else would step forward, someone else would take charge. Just for an instant. But that was the problem with mobs, wasn't it? Too many emotions, too much anxiety, too much fear, too much exhaustion disguised as a hyper alertness.

But nah, if it was gonna be anyone, it was her or Jack, and Jack was busy with his own part of things.

"Eh eh!" Her voice rose over the din. "Gonna lower our weapons, ya lower yers, a'ight?"

In the back of the lift, almost inaudible, she heard a soft moan.

Chit.

"Les everyone calm down, savvy?"

Slowly, she pushed her way to the front of the group. Her own nervous and outgunned, the folks facing them all too ready to open fire.

Putting her own makeshift weapon down on the floor slowly, right between the two groups, she held her hands up. Very, very softly, she spoke to the person in the front. Voice pitched carefully, lost in the lessening din. His eyes widened slightly.

"One at a time!" He called, jerking his head. "Check 'em fer-"

"Weapons," Tryp said loudly. "We'll 'and 'em over, no problem, yeah?"

He'd been about to say 'bites' and the heavy look she gave him told him that right now that was the last thing they needed. Sure, check them, but don't say that. Not when they knew one person had it. Don't panic that person. Get everyone else out of the way first. Her face calm, only Jack would feel the way the tension sang in her shoulder blades, hands still up in the air.

[member="Jackson Singh"]