The Bonds of Catastrophe

[Ghorua the Shark]

​

COURSCANT​

JERUBA COMPLEX​

Jeruba Complex was a massive skyscraper, a bastion of commerce on a recovering planet. The Mall had everything any member of the galaxy could ever want: Clothes, exotic food, pharmacies, weapons, the works. The giant construction stood proud against the skyline, somehow surviving the harsh realities of war, through sheer luck, it seemed. Ghorua had never put much stock in luck. He never seemed to get any of it.

The massive, 10'5'' frame of the Herglic plodded through the crowds of shop-goers, giving sidelong looks to the various boutiques. He had, surprisingly, come upon a streak of luck, and two different well-paying scenarios had graced him. He could afford to take a little time to himself these days, which is what he needed more than anything. A few close encounters had shaken him, and he hadn't appreciated it.

The crowds flowed around him, giving the large hunter a wide berth. He wore only casual clothes, a black wifebeater and cargo shorts, but his bulging muscles and sharp teeth banished all thoughts that he might be anything other than a murderer. He had gotten used to the prejudice by now; It didn't bother him anymore. So he walked, ignoring the dirty looks.

Ghorua stopped outside of a Pizza Hutt, debating going inside and ordering something, when he perked up. Something was strange. It took Ghorua a few moments to discover what it was. He scented the air, his enhanced sense of smell detecting... baradium. He took another whiff, confirming the sour taste to be the explosive compound.

The comms over the entire mall erupted to life, harsh static greeting all within. Four simple words boomed out.

"All hail the Sith."​

Then, a cacophonous explosion, shaking the very air around him. The sounds of people screaming greeted the Shark's ears, followed by a sudden gust of wind, carrying with it smoke and cinders.

Chit.

-[member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

"No, I don't see what's so great about it. Well, it would help if I could find this amazing mystery boutique. Are you sure it's still in business? Look, when I said I'd pick you up something when I came here I didn't expect it to be a wild goose chase, Cait."

The petite human woman threaded her way through the crowd, looking around for something. Dressed in her usual when she wasn't in the office, Irajah wore a long sleeved, high necked white tunic and tan leggings. Her short, curly dark hair bounced as she moved, framing her face. She skirted around a great, hulking being, more than twice her height, giving him an absentminded sort of nod, her mind clearly elsewhere.

"Yes, I know, it's your daughter's favorite lipgloss. Can't get it anywhere else. Wait- Okay, found it. I'll drop you a line later, kay?"

Irajah shut down the communicator. She stopped, just past the Pizza Hutt, looking up at the boutique 'Forever Twi'lek' and gave a long sigh. Sharp hazel gaze eyed the store in front of her dubiously. To be honest, she'd rather chew on glass than go in to that place, but, a promise was a promise. Besides, it was just lipgloss. In and out, right?

"All hail the Sith."​

What?

A heartbeat's span of anxiety was all of the warning the Force gave her. Untrained, and with little interest in learning more, Irajah had just enough time to duck down, throwing her arms over her head before the air around her shattered into a hot wind of glass, duracrete, and screaming.

Balls.

Something heavy hit her from behind, sending her sprawling with a cry of pain. She didn't get her hands down in time and she ended up face first on the ground, shattered glass all around her face. A sharp pain sliced through her lip and chin. Glass. So very close to chewing it. Whelp, that's what she got. That would leave a bruise for sure, face planting in to the ground like that. Assuming she survived this. Otherwise, well, it wasn't going to matter very much, was it?

This was the last time she did a favor for Cait.

Irajah didn't move at first, keeping her hands over her head and waiting for the shaking to stop. Cautiously, she picked her head up. Blood dripped from her lip, but she didn't seem to notice as she looked around. The air was filled with dust- chunks of duracrete (one of which was likely what hit her) covered the concourse. Her comm link was on the ground, about a meter away, knocked from her hand in the explosion. Very, very broken.

"Maw take it," Irajah swore under her breath. There were much, much more important things right now of course. But sometimes, in moments of emergency, people focused on the little things first.

Cries of pain and groans filled the air, echoing oddly. She looked around, dark hair coated in white dust, trying to figure out why the sounds themselves were different. Had the explosion damaged her hearing?

No.

The explosion had sealed in this part of the complex. She could see where the walls and ceiling had collapsed in on each other- a complex jumble of duracrete and steel beams.

Chit.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua the Shark was knocked off his feet as his entire world shook around him. He hit the ground hard, the duracrete beneath him cracking slightly. The world was bathed in particles of concrete and soot, and Ghorua coughed heavily. He could barely breath in the air, as what once was the electric Pizza Hutt sign fell down towards him. With impressive reflexes, the Shark caught the sign in one massive fist, tossing it to the side.

Finally, in what was either hours or moments, the shaking stopped. The Herglic groaned, coughing. At least the building hadn't fallen. That would have spelled disaster for all. Ghorua stood shakily, surveying the area, his mind going into combat mode. He noticed many bodies on the floor, damaged and crying. Others were obviously dead, either burnt by sudden gouts of fire, or by getting brained by duracrete. The scent of blood was thick in the air.

Ghorua held his head as his brain felt a sudden pulse. The blood called to him, to his genetic imperfections, to his inner monster. He pushed back the feeling, straining against his own mind, and plodded slowly towards an exit.

As he walked for it, he realized the turbolift had fused together, the control panel completely fried. No use trying to fix it. In a fit of anger, Ghorua slammed his hand against a damaged wall, feeling no solace as the surface broke under his strength. He felt powerless to do anything. He sat down hard, stunned, trying to piece together what had happened.

"Chit. Chit!"

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Looking around, Irajah didn't have to reach far to make the switch to emergency mode. She'd worked in the ER for five years- this was just a bigger version of that.

Standing up, she winced in pain. Her entire lower back protested and she looked around to see what had hit her during the explosion. A chunk of duracrete- a length of steel rebar jutting out of it at a jaunty angle. Looking down at that, she felt her vision swim slightly. Her hand went to her back, but came away clean. She'd very narrowly avoided being impaled. Lucky, the Force, it didn't really matter. The pain she was feeling was nothing compared to what it could have been.

Blinking, she swallowed, hard. The near miss shook her more than the explosion itself had. And she needed something to focus on.

Fortunately, she had a lot of options.

"Everyone stay calm," her voice called out. "Please- if you are unhurt, come over here."

"Stay calm?! The building just blew up!"

Irajah looked around, moving to kneel next to the woman who spoke.

"I noticed," she replied dryly. "Can you stand?"

The other woman winced and shook her head. "I think my leg is broken."

Nodding, Irajah looked around. She needed to start triaging, figuring out who was hurt and how badly- and start trying to help the people she could.

"Don't try to move. We're all going to get out of this, okay? I have to see who else is hurt, but I'll come back soon."

Triage and move. Irajah pried her hand out of the woman's grasp. She didn't have the luxury of soothing this woman's fears. She needed to get to work, and she was going to need help to do it.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

After his sudden outburst of anger, Ghorua took a step back from the situation. He was alive. For now, at least. The most dangerous part of this ordeal was hopefully behind him. But as he let his deep black eyes survey the area, many were still in danger.

The sounds of distress and pain echoed around him, as injured and dying people cried out. Bodies littered the area, crushed under rubble, some moving, some not. Ghorua felt genuine pity for them, something he didn't know he was capable of feeling. He saw a pair of men, each one coughing profusely, caught under a section of duracrete. Forgetting his childish anger, Ghorua jogged over, each of his footsteps raining soot down from whatever was left of the ceiling.

The Shark crouched down, clasping his large hands around the edge of the rubble. The Herglic strained against the weight, growling. Finally, he roared out, a blast of sound that some might perceive as the building crumbling down. With the outburst of sound came a shifting of stone, as the large chunk of duracrete moved just enough for the men below to inch out. They seemed surprised to see the half-ton hunter at first, but their incredulous expressions quickly changed as they realized what he had done. "Thank you, thank you so much," said one, laying on his back.

It seemed one had broken a leg, the other had a line of blood running down his face. Ghorua sighed, his muscles shivering with the strain. "Don't mention it." Suddenly, Ghorua heard a calm voice overtake the chaos.

"Please- if you are unhurt, come over here."

The fact that someone could keep their head in a situation such as this was enough to grab the Shark's attention. He saw a woman standing amid the destruction, determination gracing her features. He saw her walk around, applying medical knowledge to those who needed it. Ghorua debated quickly with himself, weighing options. Finally huffing a spurt of air out of his blowhole, Ghorua plodded over to Irajah, his massive frame difficult to see in the dusty air.

He didn't introduce himself cordially, like he would usually do. He simply crossed his arms, and spoke, his deep voice shaking the air. "I can help."

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah had been facing away when the voice spoke behind her. Shining a light back and forth between a young man's eyes, she was checking pupil reaction, and not liking what she was seeing. Nodding, partly to whomever had spoken and partly to herself, she spoke over her shoulder.

"Wonderful," she said, a little distractedly before addressing the young man again. "You have a concussion and I need you to sit down and rest. Lying down is okay, but don't go to sleep, okay? If you start to feel queasy, let me know. You, yes, sit with him and make sure he doesn't go to sleep. Find me immediately if he starts vomiting or loses consciousness."

"You think he's going to lose consciousness?"

​"I hope not, but there's not much more I can do right now. Just keep an eye on him, okay?"

Irajah stood up, ready to talk to her newest volunteer. She turned around- and looked up.

And up and up.

"Maw take it, you certainly can," she burst out in response to his I can help. She stared up at the behemoth in front of her (literally twice her height, give or take a hair), a little at a loss for words for a moment. Then she offered a curt nod.

"Right! You certainly can help!"

Irajah looked around then, a little at a loss. There were too many people hurt. She couldn't address every single one of them in any sort of timely fashion.

"Alright!" She called out. "Everyone who can walk on their own! I need you to make one group over by the turbolift! If you can't, for any reason, stay where you are and we'll come to you!"

She looked up at [member="Ghorua the Shark"]. "My name's Irajah, and congratulations, you're hired. Any chance you've had any medical training?" Her tone was hopeful, but she wasn't expecting a positive answer.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua felt a small surge of happiness as the Doctor appraised him. It was a welcome change from the usual suspicious looks and sidelong glances. The Shark let a curt grin split his face, revealing rows of sharp teeth. A little of his usual gusto leaked into his mannerisms as he tilted his body in a small bow. "A pleasure, Irajah. I'm Shark. And I know a thing or two."

Of course, he had no real medical training, but when one spends the first twenty-eight years of their life in the underbelly of Courscant, they pick up a few tricks.

The muted wailing of a collective people crying out in pain slowly shifted to a shuffling of movement as Irajah's words were heeded. Species of all types inched towards the turbolift, those less-injured speaking in hushed tones. The air was thick with stirring cinders and soot, and Ghorua found it difficult to find enough oxygen for his massive body. Slowly, he removed his black wifebeater, and began tearing it into strips, to use as bandaging. Thankfully, he had plenty of cloth to work with.

The Herglic's upper body was beyond muscled. Resting on one bulky shoulder, a luminescent white tattoo shined on his oily black skin, glowing like a beacon. His genetically-modified musculature was scorched with blaster scars that hadn't quite healed correctly, a testament to his dangerous lifestyle. Each one stung in the heat, but the Shark had other problems to deal with. Ghorua tied one long strip around his head, covering his blowhole. Hopefully, it would keep out some of the smoke, and the smell of blood as he worked.

"I hate to be the bearer of bad news," the Shark said, busy in his makeshift bandage-making, "But the control panel of the lift is fried from our end. No way we're gonna repair it, I checked. We... We may have to wait out a while." Ghorua kept his eyes on his task, until he was comfortable with his new first-aid equipment. He kneeled, almost eye-level with the Doctor, and gave her an affirmative nod.

"So, shall we?"

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Two people couldn't be physically more different than [member="Ghorua the Shark"] and Irajah. But in some ways, they were surprisingly similar. Their bodies both bore the marks of a life that was something harder than most people had to contend with.

Normally, Irajah kept the dark, heavy bruises that covered her arms and torso hidden beneath the long sleeves and high neck of the long, flowing tunic she wore. But right now, certain things were more important. She rolled up her sleeves without thinking about it- a far older habit from working in an emergency room than the habit of hiding herself was. The bruises were clearly not from today's adventure- yellow and sickly green around the edges, deep purple and black in the centers. She had no battle scars like Shark did- her marks told a very different story.

She had been checking on the few supplies she had with her when he was doing his own preparation- Irajah always traveled with a med-kit because, it seemed, she always needed one. Her hands stilled in their movements at the news of the lift, and her shoulders slumped, ever so slightly.

"That's..... disappointing," she said, her tone the careful, controlled neutrality of someone accustomed to giving and receiving bad news.

Standing up and turning around, she actually stopped short for a heartbeat, hazel eyes on the history writ in scars across his body. Her gaze flickered up to his face, and then she nodded, very, very slightly.

"Yes, let's. First order of priority- getting anyone trapped by fallen debris out. The longer we wait to do that, the more dangerous it gets for them. Come on."

The area they were trapped in wasn't particularly large. Big enough to hold the three dozen or so sentients however. They were waved over to one side, almost immediately. A small child looked up at them, fear and pain on her face while her father hovered near by. It became obvious right away that he hadn't been able to move the duracrete chunk on his own. Irajah eyed it dubiously then crouched down next to the girl. Her right arm was trapped, very likely broken, but Irajah didn't think crushed- small favors.

"This one's pretty big, think you can handle it or should we call some other folks over to help?"

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

As Ghorua took in his new acquaintance, he noticed the bruises on her arms. What could that be from? The Shark's limited medical knowledge couldn't identify the dark spots. Now that he was closer to her, he took a deep breath in through his blowhole. Through the smells of broken duracrete and blood, he scented... disease. A sickness, emanating from the woman. He gave her a knowing look at her bruises, and stood up, almost hitting his head on the ruptured ceiling. He kept quiet as she led him through the dusty air, to a pinned child.

He looked to the young girl pinned under a large piece of rubble, and her father staying loyally nearby. A flash of relief seemed to hit the man as he saw the woman, and then a quick fearful glance at the Shark, which quickly turned to hope.

Ghorua looked grimly at the situation before him, then put up a brave smile, mostly for appearances. "You kidding? I could do this with one arm tied behind my back." Ghorua rubbed his hands together, preparing for his feat of strength. Slowly, he kneeled down, and murmured to the wounded child. "Don't worry, kid. You're gonna get out of this alright. Be brave for us, okay?" It seemed as if she tried to smile, but remembered her pain, and grimaced.

The genetically-modified Herglic gripped the edges of the concrete next to the child, and began to exert pressure. He went slowly, making sure he had a good hold on the rubble as he went. Slowly but steadily, the duracrete began to rise. The gargantuan muscles along Ghorua's body bulged out, working hard. As soon as the piece of broken rubble was a few centimeters above her, the father reached down, and pulled her gingerly out. They stood together, embracing, the girl holding her arm. Ghorua turned his body, lacing one piece of his black shirt into a sling, which he placed around her. The girl looked up at the massive figure, and smiled. He finished his tender work, and nodded. "You were great." Then, to the father, "Go, join the others. Keep her close." The man muttered his thanks, and inched towards where the rest of the freed were, carrying his daughter.

The Shark turned to Irajah, giving an apologetic smile. The act of raising the duracrete had obviously taken a toll on him. His muscles quivered. "Making slings and bandages is about all I can do, I'm afraid." He stood, drawing another deep breath in, wincing as the blood in the air filled his senses. Going into his Blood Frenzy now would be catastrophic. He would have to be careful.

"Next."

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah had been about to step in once the girl was free. But instead, she waited, watching at the behemouth Shark acted with surprisingly gentle movements, handling what little they could do as best as she could have. Without sufficient supplies, there was little more that they could do for a broken bone, after all. It wasn't life threatening, and assuming they all got out of here, well, she'd be just fine.

When he turned back to her, she gave him a nod of approval.

"Good job."

It was simple, but sincere. They didn't have much time to dwell on it however. There was more work to do.

The pair moved around the open space from person to person. She often left him alone to handle a minor problem while she moved on, eyes scanning for problems more serious than broken limbs and blows to the head. Fortunately, those were few. There were, however, a handful of people they couldn't help. Times that Irajah would have to shake her head. Sometimes, Shark would carry them to an out of the way corner- sometimes she would do her best to make them comfortable. It depended on what was needed.

Balancing precariously on a slab of duracrete, Irajah looked around. They'd been at it for over an hour, and it looked like they had done all that they could. But something wasn't sitting right. Like there was something they were over looking.

In fairness, everything was wrong. The fires had been put out, but they were trapped in an area that very well might have minimum air flow (if they were lucky). It could take rescue workers days to reach them depending on where they started from. But that wasn't what was bothering her.

"I think we're missing someone," she said as Shark came up behind her. "I just...."

She frowned.

Carefully, she hopped down from her perch. Hazel eyes picked over the rubble near the edge of their prison, until-

"There!"

Chit.

​[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

The pair went from one calamity to the next, each using their talents to the best of their ability. Sometimes, their abilities weren't enough, however. Ghorua had been in too many firefights to count. He had watched men crushed under heel, or shot down by blasters, but none had made him feel anything other than mild regret. They had chosen to go toe-to-toe with the Herglic, that was their fault. But these people hadn't chosen anything. They had unwillingly died, by some psycho's hand. They hadn't deserved to die. As Ghorua layed yet another unfortunate soul along the roof, he felt his heart drop. His muscles ached after moving ton after ton of duracrete.

He stood up, and clasped his hands together expectantly. He looked over to where Irajah was, seeing her... tense up. She was staring off in a direction, a direction obscured to Ghorua by fallen debris. He heard her speak curtly, and craned his neck to see, but he missed whatever it was that had the Doctor riled up. He jogged over to her, footsteps rattling the area, and cocked his head to the side.

"What? What is it?" The Shark turned slowly, not sure what his eyes were about to find.

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

The zabrak was completely coated with grey dust from the explosion. Where he lay, right at the base of an enormous slab of duracrete, behind other rubble, he had been easy to miss. And since apparently no one else had been looking for him, there had been no alarm raised by concerned friends or family.

Irajah went skidding down a pile of rubble, stumbling and almost falling herself. Hazel eyes cast around, taking in the scene. He was unconscious, which, she decided, was a good thing. Because it was immediately obvious that the duracrete was pinning him down at his thigh, and she suspected had crushed the leg beneath it. She looked up at the slab and didn't think that even [member="Ghorua the Shark"] could move it. It looked like half of the wall had broken off and fallen on him.

With all of her attention so focused on the zabrak's injuries, she missed something however. Something his left hand was curled around. Something small. Electronic.

A detonator.

"Maw drenched chit," she cursed, kneeling next to him. His pulse was strong but erratic. She reached over, pushing back one eyelid for a moment before letting it close again. Responsive to light. He was stable, but she didn't know for how long.

"He's been like this for over an hour, trapped here. Probably unconscious this whole time, or he would have called attention to himself. Even if we can get his leg out of there, and I don't know if we can, it might be worse than doing nothing at all....."

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua finally saw the rather unnoticeable detail that was an unconscious Zabrak. Irajah slid down a precarious ramp of rock, and Ghorua instinctively surged forward to catch her as she almost fell. "Don't kill yourself, Doc," he muttered, smiling. At least they had plenty to do while waiting to be rescued. If they were to be rescued. Ghorua tried not to think about how long it would take a rescue crew to sift through the tower. At least it was still standing.

The pair rushed to the Zabrak, and Ghorua sniffed the air. The constant blood around him was an issue, but he had been able to keep his Frenzy down. Until he saw the detonator.

Ghorua's deep black eyes seemed to widen, the midnight pupils dilating. He could hear his pulse in his head, a battering of the senses. Every aching muscle in his body hardened, tensing against the world. A small piece of duracrete he had gripped to steady himself in the uneven terrain crushed into dust. He growled; a terrifying, primal sound. The Blood Frenzy lasted only a second, but the doctor in front of him would have certainly felt the moment of overwhelming anger, sending waves of chaos through the Force.

Ghorua gestured towards the horned individual's hand, and turned his back. Two words emanated from his chest, deep, and with unbridled rage, barely contained into a whisper.

"Leave him."

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah's mind was already going over all of the complications that could arise from the situation. Crush syndrome, fat embolism, should the leg be amputated or should they try to wait it out? Her own rushing thought process masked the first creeping feelings of unease- she was not, after all, trained or particularly in tune with the Force around her.

But the growl and the tidal of fury was impossible to miss. She actually gasped, heart skipping a beat as she whirled around to look at @Ghoura the Shark . Hazel eyes wide, they searched his face, trying to divine just what was wrong. She didn't flinch, or pull away, just searched his face for some clue as to what was going on. She still hadn't seen the detonator.

"What? No. Why?" Even as the choking feeling in the air around her ebbed, she could still almost feel the vibrations coming off of him. "I'm not asking you to move the wall-" she hurriedly assured him, flailing blinding in the dark (and missing by kilometers). She had no idea what was actually wrong. "It's okay. No one can do that. But there's still a possibility! If someone gets to us in time- even if not, I may be able to do an emergency amputation- but I don't want to do that unless it is absolutely necessary."

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua turned quickly, pointing Irajah's chin, a little too roughly, at the Zabrak's hand, and the detonator held within. Perhaps he was a bit too forceful, but his anger overtook his manners. "That monster started all this! If it weren't for him, the Sith, these people wouldn't be dead! We wouldn't be in this mess!" Ghorua's shouting was beginning to attract the attention of those at the door. A young child whimpered at the angry uproar. "Leave him! Or better yet, kill him now! Put him out of his misery! Chit!"

The Shark growled again, a bestial thunder shaking the room's unstable foundations. In a fit of rage, the Herglic sent his fist through a piece of duracrete to his side, finding no relief in the shattering stone beneath his hand. Only bruised knuckles, and tired muscles.

The large bounty hunter covered his face with his hands, taking shallow breaths. The magnitude of what had happened to him, to them, finally set in. Lots of people had lost their lives, countless others were to be scarred, one way or another. And all because of one helpless man.

Ghorua tried desperately to stay calm, but he felt his blood boiling. The Frenzy was beginning to form, a pit of deep-seated anger forming in his broken mind. He breathed in deeply, taking in the scent of blood. He knew he would snap soon. He needed to get away from Irajah and the Zabrak.

"I have to get some air." Ghorua spit out the words before jogging off, ducking past broken ceiling and rough terrain. He found a sturdy chunk of debris, and sat heavily, taking deep breaths through his blowhole. With the respite came a moment of control. His breathing slowed as he felt his anger ebb away.

It was probably better to be alone in here anyways. This way, if he did snap, he wouldn't hurt anyone. Despite what some may have thought, Ghorua wasn't a monster. Unlike the Zabrak under the wall, he cared about those around him. Briefly, the Shark wished for a piece of building to fall on him, to end his dangerous existence. At least then, these people would be safe from him.

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah had lost her footing when [member="Ghorua the Shark"] had let go of her face. She'd ended up on her knees next to the unconscious zabrak. It would have been impossible to not cringe away from the behemouth when he'd punched the duracrete- his anger was a palpable, physical manifestation at that point. And while Irajah had handled the initial emergency just fine, she had neither the fortitude nor the experience to respond to this outburst calmly.

She didn't realize she was shaking until after he was no longer looming over her. As Shark stomped off, Irajah sucked in a deep, quavering breath. It hitched slightly in her chest, and she fought down a sob she had no desire to give voice to. She reached out a hand, plucking the detonator from the Zabrak with shaking fingers as a young woman moved toward her.

"Are you okay, Miss? Did he hurt you?"

Irajah shook her head mutely, free hand going up to her jaw. She pressed there tentatively and winced. She couldn't see herself, but she knew that it wouldn't be long before bruises showed on her face. It didn't take much, these days- she bruised easily. It would look far worse than it actually was.

Pocketing the detonator, she accepted the other woman's help in standing back up. She wasn't too proud to admit that her knees were still a little weak.

There were many things that Irajah could handle with aplomb and grace. Buildings blowing up? No sweat. Blood, surgery? She had this. A planet full of dead bodies? Please. But something about the anger and violence of the last few moments, even though he hadn't really hurt her, was so far outside of her past experiences that she didn't even know what to do with it. She had experienced violence before, but it had never really been personal.

This is ridiculous. You are fine. He didn't hurt you. Why are you so shaken up?

Maybe she should sit back down again.

She managed to convince the folks starting to gather that everything was fine and there was nothing to worry (further) about, but if someone had asked her what she said after the fact, she couldn't have told them. Once they'd milled away, she did sit back down, right next to the unconscious Zabrak. Absently, without any real intent or conviction, she took his pulse again. It was getting weaker. Without attention, he would probably never wake up. If she just did..... nothing..... he would die.

The options would be whirling around in her head no matter what. But, still upset by the events of the last few minutes, the thoughts were deafening. She had taken an oath, promised to help those in need. To first, do no harm.

Was choosing not the act the same as doing harm? If she did nothing, let him die, was she any different than he was?

Yes. She hadn't dropped a building on hundreds, maybe thousands, of people. Just because there were only a few dozen here with them, Irajah had no illusions about the actual casualties there likely were. So, no matter what she did, she was different. There was no comparison.

She sat there for a long time, motionless. Thinking.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

The scene was quite dismal to the random people trapped with the Doctor and the Shark. The two bastions of hope, the two that stood tall when the walls first crumbled, had split up, and fallen to their separate musings. Children began to whimper in their parents' arms, and adults looked on with blank expressions. A sudden shift in the ground startled all. The slight disturbance only lasted a few moments, but it reminded all of the precarious situation.

Ghorua felt it through bleary eyes, staring at nothing in particular. The large being sat just at the edge of the crowd's vision, watched suspiciously. The violent outburst had shattered any preconceived notions of good in the Shark for most of them. The same applied to Ghorua himself.

The Shark kept his head down, hugging his knees. He felt overwhelmed, both physically and mentally. The man under the rubble deserved death, anyone would conclude that. It was logical, and arguably morally correct to leave him in the rubble.

Then why do I feel so guilty?

Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Irajah in a very similar situation to himself. The Herglic noticed the large bruises on her chin, and cursed himself. In their first encounter, Ghorua had smelled a sickness in the Doctor, as well as seen the dark marks on her arms. She had been weak, defenseless against him. And what did he do? He lost his temper. The right thing to do crystalized in the Shark's mind, and as much as he didn't like what it was, he knew he had to. Ghorua was a monster, of that there was no doubt. That didn't mean he had to act like one.

Balling his fists, he slowly plodded through the rubble, stopping on the side of the Zabrak opposite of Irajah. Without saying anything, he sent a brief look Irajah's way. It contained pity, fear, and endless amounts of regret. Ghorua put his hands on the rough surface, preparing himself for something that should be impossible.

Getting down on one knee, the Shark finally found a good place to anchor himself.

Breath in. Breath out.

Ghorua surged upward, pushing against the wall, which was much heavier than any of the miscellaneous rubble. His entire body burned, and the Shark took deep, labored gasps of air.

After a minute, nothing was moving. Yet he still pushed, and pushed. He brow furrowed, now successfully drenched in sweat.

Nothing.

Nothing.

Maybe it was his imagination. Or maybe the wall rose a centimeter or two. It was tough for the Hunter to tell, as when he heaved one last time, he felt a pop in his right shoulder. The pain immediately sent molten fire through his body, but he was too focused on his task to pay it heed. He held it like that, for one, two, three seconds, before he finally gave out, sinking to the floor. Whether he had given enough time for Irajah to get the terrorist out of his predicament, he couldn't tell, before falling to his knees, clutching a dislocated shoulder.

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

She didn't flinch away from him when he stopped opposite her, but if her gaze wasn't quiet as welcoming as it had been when she'd first appraised him, well, that wasn't a terrible surprise. She just watched him, mutely, her shoulders slumped in a defeated posture. It hadn't been the bomb and the aftermath that had done that.

It took her a moment to realize what he was doing. Standing up quickly, she watched, her eyes widening slightly. There was no way. It wasn't possible for him to move that wall-

She was partially correct. It was impossible for him to move it without hurting himself. But as the duracrete groaned, and she realized that he was, indeed, moving it, all traces of the defeat were shunted from her posture. The 'get it done' doctor was back in play in that moment.

Irajah wasn't strong. Before her illness she had been blissfully average. But the ravages of the disease had weakened her further. She wasn't going to let his effort be wasted, however. Dropping to her knees, she ignored the rubble beneath her as she grabbed the Zabrak. Closing her eyes, she hauled with everything she was worth. She wasn't a big person, she wasn't a strong person, but she was determined. After a brief hesitation, the man's body moved. Dragging it backwards, she got his foot clear a fraction of a heartbeat before [member="Ghorua the Shark"] 's strength gave out.

She ended up flat on her rear end, breathing hard. But she knew her own feat was nothing in comparison to what Shark had just done.

What she wanted to do what go over to him. Check his arm. Check his *heart* for that matter. But.

Triage.

Irajah looked over at him, gratitude in those hazel eyes.

"Sit still, okay?" She said to him gently. "Rest until I can check you out. I just...."

She gestured to the unconscious man. Based on what he'd just done, she knew he understood.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua sunk to the floor, grasping his shoulder. Cinders flew past his face, which held an extremely pained expression. The hard face lightened slightly as he saw Irajah's. He blinked, and spoke, his usually silky voice gravelly with exhaustion. "Yeah, yeah. I've been through worse." He sent a confidant smirk over, trying to conceal his lie.

Ghorua had been shot by an untold amount of blasters and slugs. He had been stabbed, burned, slashed, and even cut with lightsabers. But none of that could hold a candle to the pain he was experiencing right now. The pain was only amplified by the stress, Ghorua's tired body, and a looming Blood Frenzy. It felt as if liquid magma had been poured into his system, pain surging from every orifice of his being. All things considered, Ghorua was doing a good job of hiding it.

The Shark leaned back on the collapsed wall, wincing as his shoulder jarred against the contours of the duracrete. He spread himself out, trying to find an ounce of comfort. The Herglic gave Irajah a confirmatory nod, a bit of his gusto returning to him. "Go ahead, save the scum. But if he kills us all, I blame you." He laughed a little, then sucked air in through his teeth as his shoulder moved.

Ghorua let a beat pass before he spoke again. He grew a brooding look, staring into the ceiling as he relaxed back. "Why do you want to save him?"

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

"Yeah, yeah. I've been through worse."

"Liar," she murmured. Fooling an ER doctor about physical trauma was, well, a fool's errand. But she left it at that for now. She was still, frankly, somewhat in awe of the feat he had just accomplished- both the obvious physical one, but also the change of heart.

Which was why the next few moments were so. Damn. Hard.

"Why do you want to save him?"

She checked all of the Zabrak's vitals in silence, not answering right away. In truth, enough time passed after he asked that it was possible she wasn't going to answer him at all. Obviously, she was a doctor, and that's what doctors, did, after all. It would have been very, very easy to just let that unspoken assumption lie between them. Because then later, it wouldn't be her fault. The assumption would be that she had tried. That if he died, it would be because she couldn't save.

Instead of that she had chosen not to.

"I have been asking myself the very same question," she said finally, her voice so quiet he'd have to strain to hear.

"And the answer surprised me."

She rocked back on her heels, still crouched next to the unconscious form. Her dark hair hung around her face, blocking it from [member="Ghorua the Shark"] 's view.

"While I am sure that it varies from place to place, Doctors make a promise, Shark. Actually, we make quite a lot of them. We promise to respect knowledge, and to share it with those who will come after us. We promise that we understand that there is an art to medicine, beyond just the science- that warmth, sympathy, and understanding may outweigh the surgeon's knife or the chemist's drug. We promise to be unafraid to say that we do not know, and to ask for the help of another doctor in order to help a patient. We promise to respect privacy. We promise..... to not treat the disease- but the whole person. We promise to.... prevent disease, where possible, because prevention is more important than treatment."

She paused now, her chest tight as she thought about the virus coursing through her own system. Was she any different from this man beneath her hands? Not in her decision as a doctor- but in her actions as a sentient with responsibility toward the rest of the galaxy? She carried in her the ability to wipe out a planet if at any time she 'pushed the detonator.' All she had to do was let go of it. Her deadman's switch. And instead of getting on a ship and piloting herself in to a star or a black hole, here she was, on the most populated planet in the galaxy. Shopping. She had the power to prevent an outbreak like had happened on her home world. But she simply couldn't bring herself to end it. To die.

What right did she have to condemn this man, now?

Irajah swallowed, hard.

"We promise," she continued, her voice tight, "To remember that we are members of society, with a special obligation to our fellow sentients. We promise.... to tread with care in matters of life. And death. And to above all, not play god."

For the first time in this very long litany, Irajah looked up at him. Her eyes were dry, but there was no mistaking the guilt that ravaged her face. All of this, over one man? Of course it wasn't. But there was no clear way for him to know exactly what more fueled the expression. Just that, surely, there was far more to it than this single moment.

"But the very first thing we swear," she whispered, her voice raw with emotion, "is to fulfill, to the best of our ability and judgment, all of the things I have already said. To the best of my ability and judgement."

Deliberately, she started to put her tools away.

"I don't know if I can save him. Even if I wanted to," she said, fighting to make her voice even again. "And I will not kill him. But the least I can do is stay with him until it is clear. If he will live.... or if he will die."

Very slowly, she stood up.

"I'd like to take a look at your arm now, if that's alright."