Private Stolen Friend

[Amos]

"Healing is a gift, my friend. And gifts, as you know, always come with a price."
-Darth Sidious​

Bestine - Refugee Center
Sophelia Ardemark

The tall grass plains seemed to flow like an ocean as the wind swept over them. A constant stream of starships landing and taking off in the open fields spurring the small gusts at an almost constant rate. Dozens of tents stood in the midst of the plateau, each of them filled with people of all different kinds. Most of them had come from Thyferra, the warzone that was to be found there, though some were from the surrounding systems.

No fence had been erected around the Refugee camp, though a dozen Guards patrolled among the people as they watched for any sign of trouble. It was as peaceful as could be. Those who required aid were given it, those who needed food at it provided, and although many here had lost their homes it was clear that the people of Bestine were doing all they could do to help. There were no protests, no one arguing against helping.

Maybe that was why it had been so easy to get close.

Amos didn't really quite understand the concept of helping those who could not help themselves. Back in the tribe on Kiffu if you were weak, you were left behind. Only children were given help, and even they had to earn their keep eventually. This place was an anathema to almost everything that he and his people believed him. The very idea seemed almost insulting to ones own pride.

The whole idea seemed madness, and yet these men and women seemed almost gleeful in their respite.

Almost as if in echo of his own disgust, the amphistaff coiled around his arm and bicep let out a muted hiss, it's body curling tightly around his muscle as they watched.

"Shh." He quieted the creature with a single syllable, never bothering to take his eyes off the camp before them. He had been lurking within the grass for hours now, watching, waiting. The latest piece of their quest required something that neither he nor Hedda could provide; Healing. Though the powers of the Darkside were great, the knowledge they needed lay locked behind doors only Jedi could open.

Hedda's father had told him there would be one to be found here, Amos simply had to find the right one.

After hours of watching, waiting, he thought he had found her. Now he simply needed to wait for night to fall.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

Soph's brows pinched sharply. Then slowly smoothed in triumph as the angry maw of skin began to knit itself together again. Fingers hovered over the bacta farmer, EX-bacta farmer, a female zabrak, before snapping back. A tired push of the back of her hand against her face. Careful not to knock that sterile mask covering her nose and mouth. The thing she was itching to fling off as soon as possible.

"Lady Ardemark, go rest. Your shift ended over an hour ago." The High Republic nurse with auburn hair looked down at the padawan. Looking through a datapad of charts. At least, STARS at least, the med tent wasn't as full as it had been at the beginning of the week. She and the others managed to get the worst of the survivors from Thyferra back functioning enough to be out of a bed. A small win in a bone pile of losses.

Burns had been the worst.

The other...well. The other was more dangerous. The technovirus she still had to put some leads into. If anyone came back even suspected of it, well, they were quarantined and taken elsewhere. Perhaps one of the other islands on this world of sea. The salt in the air a cruel jester. Reminding her of a loss so deep she never saw the edges.

"Okay, finishing up. Her chart is updated. I couldn't...," Soph's voice trailed off.

"I know," the nurse said, placing a gentle hand on the young girl's shoulder. "There's always tomorrow."

Except sometimes there wasn't.

Soph didn't say it aloud. She only nodded and stood. Scooping up her bag and slinging it over slender curved shoulder. Stepping out of the tent, she took out her comm and crossed her eyes giving the screen a rude Tapani gesture as she sent a selfie in her mask to one Isar du Vain . Jabbing out a quick message. Even as the sky turned a deep burnt orange as that sun began to bleed down into the horizon.

'Miss you. Tired. Done for the day. Hope you've been practicing for the race. - Stardust."

Fingers ripped that mask off, a sense of freedom tingling along her skin. Comm slipped back in her pocket after she hit send. Bright blue eyes swept around the hodgepodge of tents and thoroughfare at the refugee center. A few people smiled and waved as she passed. She'd either helped them directly or it had been one of their kin. It was strange being known for that than her family name and title. A whisper of bashful, she wandered toward the tent set-up as the mess-hall.

Amos

 

[Amos]

Slowly Amos crept forward within the high grass. His steps were slow enough that not a single blade seemed to move. Each stride taking him closer and closer towards the camp until he finally reached its edge. His eyes flickered left, then right, watching for the Guards on their next pass. They meandered their way, slowly moving along the edges of the camp, paying more attention to those within, than those without.

The amphistaff around his bicep seemed to twist and curl, tightening as it urged him forward towards the heartbeats it could sense. Another quieting shush echoed from his lips before the creature could hiss. They had only been bonded for a short few weeks, but the staff had proven itself bloodthirsty beyond even his own desires.

Something he would have to learn to restrain.

Letting his fingers tighten to press back against the Amphistaff’s pressure, Amps drew himself out from the tall grass.

He moved quickly through the outer-lines of the camp, cutting beyond the outer-edges of the camp and moving quickly through the tents. Behind him the sun began to set, cresting along the edges of the horizon. The light slowly fading as he continued forward.

Amos’ steps slowed as he crested one of the corners, lips drawing to a thin line as he caught sight of the very woman hed been looking for.

For a moment the Sith hesitated, eyes slowly scanning the crowd before him. There were too many here now. He had to figure out a way to get her alone. Slowly he glanced down at himself, frowning as he stood up to his full height. A blade slipped from the small of his back, gently cutting into his muscle and letting the blood flow. Another hiss echoed from the amphistaff, but with a quiet click of his tongue he sent the creature scurrying to his back.

Then, he stumbled forward. “Help! Help!”

Amos called.

“I need help!” The Sith called, holding the wound he'd made.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

Amos

The mess tent was one of the busiest places in the camp. A collection of patched-together cargo tarps stretched over a durasteel frame. Portable glow-lamps hung from the supports, casting everything in a pale blue-white light as the last ray's of sun began to fade. Rows of mismatched tables filled the space, some made from shipping crates and old cargo pallets.

The smell of roasted nuna and overheated power thickened the air. A battered astromech rolled between the tables carrying trays. Soph was halfway inside when she heard it. Above the chattering and clinking of trays, mugs, and food. It was a Duro who called out to her.

"Sophelia! Someone is hurt. Just outside."

Soph didn't hesitate. Even with an aching belly and tired feet. "Show me." The padawan quickly followed, leaving that blue-white glow. Eyes adjusted to the growing darkness outside. Lights still lit up the camp at intervals. There was a male twi'lek already approaching the stranger.

"We'll get you help. There's a med-tent that way. You need a hand?"

A warmth spread through her chest. It was a magical thing to be among people who had lost everything and lean sharply to kindness. Stars, if it didn't make a girl feel all sorts of ways. The Duro stepped up, too. Eager expression in golden bulbous eyes.

"I brought Sophelia. She can help."

"What happened," Soph stepped around the Duro, blue eyes scanning where the man clutched his body. Catching the well of scarlet.

 

[Amos]

The Duros came first, and Amos reached out to gently grasp his shoulder. Other hand pinning to his side, blood slowly seeping through. There was no need to act, Amos has cut deep enough that agony was very real. Usually the force could have let him simply ignore it, but it would only help here.

Letting the pain he felt show on his face Amos half limped as he held onto the Duros. Watching as Sophelia came close and tensing himself. The amphistaff curled around his waist seemed to follow his lead, knowing it would soon move.

”T-there was a man.” He stuttered out, letting a small hint of false panic slip into his voice. Eyes flickered down at the Duros first, then to Sophelia as she came in close. His fingers slipped away from the wound at his side, showing her the gash digging into his muscle. ”He came out of nowhere, between the tents…he ran away somewhere over there.”

Amos pointed, and the Duros turned his head to follow his direction.

Almost as soon as he looked away the Sith acted. Bloody fingers reached out in an instance, one hand moving to grab Sophelia as the other lashed out for a brief second towards the Duros. The Amphistaff uncoiled itself from around his side, jumping like a snake and wrapping itself around the Duros’ throat in an instant. It tightened and constricted, cutting off the man's air before he could let out a scream.

The instant it furled around the aliens throat Amos twisted and grabbed Sophelia fully. Doing his best to reach an arm around her body, and hoping to clamp his bloody fingers over her mouth. Moving to twist her so she had full view of the choking Duros now laying on the floor. “Move, Try to escape, Or shout and he'll die.”

Amos hissed the threat in her ear.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

A glimmer of pride as the Duros stepped so easily into help the stranger. Soph stepped closer, honeyed brows wrinkling as she thought she saw movement around the injured man's waist in the dark.

"Wha-," she began as he pointed. The Duros looked. Soph's pools of blue remained on the angry-bleeding avulsion. Flickering between that and the phantom movement in the dark. The force nudged a sharp warning as the stranger wrapped his meaty paw around her arm. Some slithering thing DID move and launch itself around the Duros neck. The Duros stumbled back. Hands clutching and fighting against that...thing.

Soph's fingers unhooked a bead from the bracelet she wore as an arm snaked around her waist and pulled her whiplike against his torso. Caged in between muscle and sinew. Wet palm with the tang of iron covered her mouth as she let the bead slip from her fingers, the tip of her boot kicking it out toward the abomination wrapped around the Duros.

Unholy stillness just before the small explosion of the stun grenade.

Panic became motion as she twisted and bucked like a wild caught thing, sending one of her elbows back toward his wound as a thing with sharp edges.

Amos

 

[Amos]

Amos didn't react first, the amphistaff did.

Faster than it’s Master, the creature hissed as its glinted eyes caught sight of the Jedi's movements. Moving not from any command, but an innate sense born into it from birth. Within the span of half a second, as Sophelia fought back against her assailant, the creature hissed and barred it's long fangs. Teeth sinking into the Duros’ neck before the sun grenade went off.

The creature assuring the promise of its master's words before he even had a chance to give the command.

Amphistaff Venom was as deadly as could be. Even sprayed on a victim's skin it was enough to kill. Injected into one's veins directly? The Duros would be dead in minutes.

Not that Amos had enough time to even consider that. The Jedi proved herself to be far more of a nuisance than he'd expected. His head swiveled as the grenade exploded, the daze casting over his mind before a sudden wave of agony rushed from his side. The jab of her elbow sending rushing pain through every nerve in his body.

A gruff, forcefully silenced, howl barely kept back from between his lips as she stabbed into his wound. ”Tík!”

The kiffari curse echoed past his lips, but his grip never relaxed on her form. Instead tightening as he did his best to grab hold of her, fingers splaying out, and then suddenly erupting with bright sparks of lightning which would first rush into her, and then hopefully dull
ed into him.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

"NO!" Muffled cry came behind that stifling hand as her eyes caught the movement of that abomination. She might not know what it was, exactly. But she knew enough to see the glint of fangs. That stun blast was far enough to not catch them directly but whew - the pressure in the air and edge of the impact made her ears pop and the tip of her nose tingle.

Had she gotten that serpent?

Stars, she hoped so.

"Who are you?" A yap against him. Trying to twist her head to get a better glimpse at his face. Whole body coiled with energy. His tightening only making her want to fight harder as her heart whiplashed against her organs. Hips bucked back against him. Foot raised, heel coming to try and stomp down HARD on his toes.

Just as blue-white energy erupted across her skin and into her. Hot and excruciating. Muscles seized, twitched, and locked. Teeth clacked in agony. Eyelids squeezed closed and all she could think of was Isar. Was that what it felt like when Dr. Grimwall had...

Fingers tried moving.

Her brain screamed - commanded her body to do something.

F I G H T.

Involuntary muscle spasms were the only answer. There was a thread of consciousness she was too stubborn to let go of. She clung to that, gathering the force inside her and then released it from her back. An invisible outward pushing force. If he didn't let go - it might rocket them both backwards, into the tall grass behind them. Or, perhaps it would do what her addled brain was grasping for and push them apart. Whip him off of her.

Amos

 

[Amos]

The sizzle of force lighting rushed over him just as it did her. Burning through his flesh and digging through bone as it coursed through the both of them. Vaguely within the pain of it he could feel her heel digging into his toes, bruising, perhaps even breaking. Yet within the sea of pain he was feeling it was only another puddle added on.

But her fight did not stop there.

As she struggled and pushed against him, Amos felt his grasp slip. The Agony of the wound on his side paired with the wriggling of her body was enough to see his fingers start to slide away from her.

Then she jutted herself backward and the force erupted in a massive wave. The lightning that had been sparking through the both of them ceased almost immediately, Amos' face flickering in an expression of shock as he found himself suddenly vaulted back the way he had come and thrown into the tall grass. His back skidding along the ground as blades flattened beneath him, dirt and mud racking over him as he reached down and grabbed the earth. Righting himself in one smooth flip.

Anger flooded into him, burning as a neat ball of rage as frustration boiled over.

Within the span of a second of his landing, Amos reached out with his palm. Following the trail of fallen grass as he attempted to grasp the Jedi and yank her towards himself.

On the ground, wriggling beneath the Duros' body the Amphistaff seemed to shake itself. Head twirling left and right as the stun grenades effects left it with an unpleasant tingle. Yet within seconds it moved again. Slithering away from the soon-to-be corpse it had left behind and moving beneath the tents towards the long grass. The living weapon more than a simple serpent, but a thing of the Yuuzhan Vong, grown to kill and resist even the touch of lightsabers.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

Amos

Her body hit the ground with an unceremonious thud. Twitching and writhing. The smell of burned flesh and clothes nearly made her gag. Kept her tethered to that thread of consciousness even as it began to fray. Bit by bit.

Blue eye cracked open.

The warm glow of the mess tent was so close. Agonizingly close. She even saw a guard. His back to her. Lips parted. “H-h-elp,” her voice barely worked. Quiet. TOO starsforsaken Q U I E T.

Fingers of one hand twitched useless in the dirt. She urged them to dig in. To claw her way forward. But they didn’t obey. Salvation was a few feet away. But she was powerless.

“C-c-come o-o-on,” frustrated growl to the traitorous digits.

So, this was what it felt like to want to laugh and cry at the same time. She reached for the force again. But her reserves were shallow. A strangled sound left her throat as she felt an invisible vice clutch around her body. With a snap, she was lifted and yanked backward. She didn’t have to turn to see who it was as her body hit against hard muscle and mass. And that fraying thread snapped as pain from the impact re-lit her nerves. Unconsciousness dragged her down, down, down. So deep.

Her last thought was of Helios.

 

[Amos]

In truth, Amos barely caught her.

His side radiated with pain, his muscles ached, and a consistent throb raked over his back where the tall grass had cut into his skin. His arm wrapped around Sophelia was she came crashing into him, knees half-buckling as he clutched her tight and drew in a sharp breath of pain. Vision growing hazy for a brief moment as he waited for a scream of a yell.

The sound of it coming from the tents, but never following as a clamor suddenly erupted over the corpse he had left behind. Guards and others swarmed over the body of the Duros, a call of emergency going out as Amos turned on his heel and began to carry his prey from the scene. There was no doubt the Camp would eventually realize Sophelia was gone. There was no doubt they would coming looking, but by then he would be long gone. First they would investigate the Duros, try to save his life, and by the time they traced the tracks left behind it would be far too late.

Hefting Sophelia's weight, Amos pulled her over his shoulders.

The wound on his side now sizzled and smoked, cauterized by the lightning he had poured into the both of them. Behind him the grass parted slightly, his amphistaff wriggling across the earth and eventually catching the step of his boot. It slid up his leg and up onto his torso, wrapping around his body and hissing quietly at the Jedi upon his shoulder.

Quickly he hiked across the plateau, moving through the tall grass until they eventually crested onto the edge of the cliffs. From there he trudged downward, until eventually they reached a small shuttle tucked against the rocks. "Keep her."

Amos demanded of the amphistaff as it slithered from his body and onto Sophelia, wrapping itself around her wrists like a pair of manacles and pinning her arms behind her back. Then he stalked up through the front of the shuttle, barking a gruff command to the droid at the helm.

"Take off, now." He demanded, the ramp already closing as they began to take off and cut into the atmosphere.

 

[Sophelia Ardemark]

Amos

It was lucky for them both she did not wake in the shuttle. Otherwise, there would've been vomit everywhere.

Time was a shapeless thing when unconscious. One moment exists and then suddenly another does. She stirred. A low hiss sucked through clenched teeth as injuries flared across her body. Dark lashes fluttered and snapped open. Pools of blue darting - searching. The tang of wet earth, stone, wood-smoke, and dried leather reached her nose. A mixture of animal hides and woven blankets covered portions of the floor and walls, making crude divisions between spaces. Head lifted and she saw shelves carved directly into the stone holding jars, tools, and other odds and ends collected by somebody over the years.

What in the stars was this backwater place...

At least she had control of her muscles again.

Legs shifted. A grunt of frustration as she realized her wrists were bound behind her back. Still, her fingers reached toward one of her pockets, trying to feel for the comm she'd last left there.

 

[Amos]

The cavern was as much a home as Amos had been able to find. After his exile from Kiffu he'd known that a place to lay low was essential. Not even Hedda knew of this place. Tucked away in the far mountains of a world long forgotten by most, accessible by ship, but only if you knew the right route. The droid he'd been given knew the path, though only barely.

It's remoteness ensured privacy, though meant it had none of the luxuries most in the galaxy were used to.

Not that Amos seemed to care. The bed was a cot, the furniture was simple and carved from wood, dozens of animal hides functioned as blankets and cushions. Enough for him.

Behind one of the heavy cloaks, tucked into a corner of the cave near the fire she would just barely be able to make out the silhouette of the man who had captured her. He sat upon a small stool covered in thick furs, half bent over as he plucked what appeared to be a needle from within the flames. Fingers ached with a dull pain as he held it, slipping a small piece of string through the end before he bent over his side and slowly began to stitch closed his wound.

The Lightning had stemmed the bleeding, but only for a time.

Slowly he delved the sliver of metal into his skin, drawing the wound closed with every stitch as behind him a hiss echoed out. As Sophelia wriggled about the amphistaff that acted as a tie around her wrist wriggled back. Tightening, and drawing her arms closer together to stop any motion she made. "I would not tempt her."

Amos said as he continued to close his wound.

"I do not have the means to heal you if she bites." The Sith warned, clearly referring to the amphistaff.