Silence stretched out between them as her chips fell upon the table. Asha's finger lay barely a hair breadth above the ignition of her lightsaber, and in that time she did not breathe a single breath. Her senses were on high alert, she reached through the Force to strengthen such, and waited. Waited for a finger to flex against the trigger of a blaster, or for a bowman to drawback their string, or something which would cause her danger sense to flair.
Each second that passed felt like an eternity in and of itself. Tension gripped the air, so thick it could be cut with a blade... And then it broke.
"
Very well, Jedi... You may take them from this place unmolested. None of my men will bother you while you do, you have my word." It would have been easy to miss the subtle twistings of a smirk which pulled at his lips for just a second before he caught himself, the look of a man who held dishonesty in his heart, but Asha had been looking for it. Asha had been expecting deception.
"
And after we leave this place?" she inquired, therein watching as the Twi'lek's expression turned immediately to a scowl. Her senses flared then, warning her of some impending threat in the vicinity, and all at once she thumbed the ignition and brought into existence a brilliant white blade of pure plasma. It was bright against the backdrop of such a setting, and it hummed with intent.
Unnecessary, however, the girl soon discovered, for it was not she who was the target of betrayal. The one soon named as Arshak found his hand crushed beneath the grip of the Cragmoloid, relieved of his position at the head of whatever pecking order lay among these men. A pained cry, akin to a howl, left the Twi'lek, and in spite of all that had happened she winced for him. A moment longer, then her terms were addressed; she thumbed the ignition once more, and all at once the light vanished back into the hilt.
She replaced the lightsaber to her belt, as the Cragmoloid and his men turned to leave, and waited until the congregation had left the courtyard to return to action. Therein she turned and immediately dropped to a knee beside the closest Cathar who lay sprawled within the dusty dirt. Grief found its home within her anew, as she brought up a hand and closed their eyes for the last time. She could not mourn though, not yet, instead she rose and reached out a hand, tearing at each of the remaining locks and opening the doors to the cages which had not yet been released.
"
Forgive me for those who were lost," she spoke, as they made their way out into freedom. Most were understandably uncertain, afraid that this was all a ruse, that they'd meet a similar end. One or two seemed particularly enraged, as they moved to envelop the other corpses, but there were some among them who seemed more driven. They approached and gave their thanks, though Asha could only shake her head.
"
No, none of that, please... Bring me your wounded, I'll see them tended to. The Cragmoloid will make good on his word, this the Force assures me." She'd been wrong about a great many things in her life, but in this case she knew it to be so. The weak and the injured, the sick and the lame, all were brought before her by those strong enough to carry them, and Asha reached beneath her shirt to grasp at a crystal which lay there. She brought it out, set it upon her palm, and reached her free hand out over the worst of them. The one in most dire need of assistance.
Slowly but surely she would make her way through them, healing the worst of their injuries and supplying them with strength enough that they could manage the trip back to her ship. A break was needed between the various layers of triage, and therein she called upon the droid dubbed M8-T33 to have him bring the ship closer. Not on their doorstop, she did not need it shot out of the sky, but enough that they would not have to journey far.
And so it was that she'd be found that way, giving her strength to the enslaved, when their meeting was adjourned. The worst had been stabilized, at least, and the dead had been carefully prepared for moving.
Grundark