The Bonds of Catastrophe

[Ghorua the Shark]

Wires were a tricky business. Each planet, and planet-built technology, had different systems and charts for wire color. Thankfully, Ghorua knew Coruscant. He grew up working with these colors. So when Irajah rattled off the colors, Ghorua began to form a mental picture, weighing wattages and charges. Eventually, he came up with the puzzle piece he could only hope was the correct one.

"Yellow." He said it quietly. The Shark cleared his throat, and tried again. "It's yellow. Well, I'm pretty sure. Use one of the ones with the smaller gauge." Ghorua backed up, realizing she might not know what 'gauge' meant. "That is to say, a skinny one."

Ghorua felt his anticipation rise as he waited to see if his hypothesis was correct. He remembered; on Coruscant, Blue had a weak negative charge, green was strong negative, red was strong positive, and yellow was weak positive into ground. By completing the circuit, the panel should function as normal. Of course, since the circuit breaker was most likely fried, the device might be a bit uncooperative.

Sparks would fly, to say the least.

"It won't look pretty, but it should work!"

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

"Skinny one, got it," she muttered absently. Her brow was furrowed in concentration as she went digging through the crate.

"This one look skinnier to you? Good. Okay. Attach this.... *there*... get that out of the way and.....Stand back. I don't know how 'not pretty' this is going to be so... yeah, maybe another meter. One more. Okay. Good." She breathed in deeply, letting it out again in one long whoosh.

"Okay." She'd said that already. Now she was stalling. Why? Just.... just a feeling.

"Okay."

This wasn't going anywhere.

"Cross your fingers!" She called over her shoulder.

Now, normally, power to the panel would have been turned off at the source before a mechanic fiddled with any of the components inside of it. This was just good sense. Of course, they didn't have the luxury of things like safety precautions right now.

It was a good thing she was wearing those rubber gloves.

When the panel erupted in sparks, Irajah jumped back, offering a particularly inelegant sound somewhere between a 'shriek' and a 'meep'. She wasn't hurt. But errant electricity exploding, even benignly, in someone's face was enough to get most sentients flinching. The doctor was no exception.

There was a new sound in the silence. Normally, it wouldn't be noticeable, just part of the background noise. But the hum of an active turbo lift was enough to send an actual cheer through the gathered crowd. Irajah hurried over to the hole, poking her head over the edge. She wore a huge grin and a couple of black splotches on her face from the mini explosion.

"I think it's working Shark!" She called down, excitement in her voice. "I think we can finally-"

"DOCTOR!"

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua waited in tense anticipation as he heard the Doctor fiddle with the panel. He could only hope she was connecting them correctly. He had faith in Irajah's work, though. She seemed like the kind of person that put their entire essence into what they were doing. This made her ramshackle promise of trying to help him after all this all the more enticing. Ghorua pushed it out of his mind, for the time being.

He heard a sudden zapping from above, and flinched. He was about to yell up, see if everything was alright, when she reappeared over the edge. Seeing the small human's giant smile eased Ghorua's mind. It told him all he needed to know. He, too, could hear the faint thrumming of electrical power, hinting at Ira's success. Ghorua laughed himself from below, a simple, easy merriment.

"Good!" Ghorua's face seemed to fall, looking around at his surroundings. Then he heard a sudden, startled yell, and looked up, a sudden fear masking what had just been happiness.

He suddenly remembered a very crucial thing they had all seemed to have forgotten in the excitement.

Ghorua felt a pang of powerful, unquenchable panic. "Irajah!"

The Shark could only hope he was wrong.

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah stood up, whirling around.

The Zabrak stood unevenly, his shattered leg supporting none of his weight. The Mon Calamari that Irajah had put in charge of his care was crumbled at his feet. Irajah couldn't tell from here if the woman was breathing. In one hand he clutched a long shard of broken, bloodied transparisteel. In the other....

Was the detonator.

Irajah's hand went immediately to her pocket, fingers searching- a hole. There was a hole in the pocket. She had no idea when the detonator had fallen out as she stared in horror at the Zabrak. He shouldn't even be conscious, let alone standing. How-

The Force.

All hail the Sith indeed.

"This has been a lovely little party," he said, his voice raw and low. "And I appreciate you fixing the turbo lift. Very nicely done. Now, as I see it, you have two choices. You can try to take me, and I blow the remaining charges. Or, you let me get to the lift and I let you all live. I cannot imagine, doctor," he said, scorn in his voice. "That it's really much of a choice, now, is it?"

Irajah's mind raced. It didn't take another force user to know that he was lying. If they let him get to the lift, he'd get himself to safety and then blow them all up anyway.

[member="Ghorua the Shark"] had been right. She should have killed him when she had the chance. Hazel eyes flicked down to the unmoving body of the Mon Calamari- a clear testament to this man's true intentions. Irajah believed in actions, not in words. And his actions told her everything.

"Of course we'd rather live," she said evenly, keeping her voice calm, though it was impossible to keep all of the tremor out of it. "But the lift isn't working just yet."

He arched an eyebrow at her.

"I heard you telling your friend down there it was."

Slowly, she shook her head. "No. I had been about to say that I was ready for the next instructions. That was just the first step in the process. I still need one more part."

His eyes darkened, a murderous glint in them. But he smiled. Irajah was not comforted. If he knew she was lying, all of them would die.

He gestured to the hole. "Get what you need and get it fixed, doc. I'll wait. And so will everyone else."

She kept her eyes on him while she knelt. Finally turning her back, she felt the way his eyes bored into her shoulders- it almost physically itched. She had one chance to make this work. Looking down at Shark, she dropped her hands beneath the level of view from above.

"I need you to toss me that last piece. What did you call it? The reverse ionizer do-hickey?"

But her words didn't match the motion her hand made. Very deliberately, she mimed a blaster with one hand, her eyes going back and forth between his gaze and her hands. She didn't need another piece for the lift.

She needed a gun.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua had been right. To be fair, he had been right twice. He was right when he had suggested they killed the Zabrak immediately. To be fair, the thought of the man coming back to attack them hadn't crossed the Shark's mind, revenge had clouded his judgement. Apparently, cloudy judgement was better than what they had decided upon. He was also right when he heard the yell, and assumed the Stih had risen from the grave he dug himself. Sith had a nasty habit of coming back from the brink.

He listened to them talk, and Ghorua balled his fists. He was quite literally and figuratively powerless in this situation. He had a few small weapons on him, but he had no line of sight on the Sith. He cursed himself, and his Frenzy. If he hadn't lost control, he could've been up there to help. But it seemed they had no choice. They had to do as he said. If he were in a position to fight, he would, but that seemed out of reach.

Irajah, however, hadn't given up just yet.

As she gestured to the Shark, it took him a moment to realize what she was miming. Blaster. She wanted a blaster. And she wanted to trick this guy. Thankfully, Ghorua was a better liar when lives were on the line.

"It's called an ionizational transiphon, and I'm on it." Ghorua made his voice shake a bit, as if he were stunned and afraid. Perhaps he was actually a bit of both, so it wasn't difficult to pretend. He pretended to shift around in the darkness, pulling his two slugthrower pistols from their holsters. The guns were enormous, even to a wookiee or trandoshan. The Doctor would find it extremely difficult to aim, or even pull the massive trigger. If she could, however, each bullet was also enormous, and would almost certainly kill from such close range. Throwing the weapon up so she could catch it would be the hard part. Actually shooting the Zabrak would be the harder part.

"It it's a bit too much to handle, give it a little push." Ghorua feigned a push, and prepared his blasters. He wanted to make it known that if she couldn't do it, she could push the Zabrak into the hole, and he would deal with the scum. He waited a beat. Made sure she was ready. Then he threw.

The toss was an easy underhanded throw, accurate and slow. It needed to be, if Irajah had any chance of killing this guy before he killed her. The Shark lifted his other slugthrower, ready to fire at a moment's notice.

He was ready to take a life. Was the Doctor?

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Their eyes met, and one thing was clear- she had all intentions of ending this now.

Of course, life didn't always work out the way one plans.

She caught the gun, small hands fumbling and almost dropping it. But she managed to hold on to it. She gave him the barest of nods as she stood up, clutching the slugthrower close to her torso.

"Right, shove it in to place if it gives me any trouble. Got it."

Taking a step back, she readied the gun. Drawing in a deep breath, she turned, raising it with both hands-

But the Zabrak was standing right behind her. How he had closed the distance with the damage to his leg, she didn't have time to contemplate. She tried to get the weapon up in time, but he knocked it from her hands and sent it clattering to the side. His free hand snaked out, too fast to be believed, closing in an iron grip on her throat.

"Do you think I am a fool?" He hissed, his snarling face centimeters from her own.

Irajah brought her hands up, grasping his arm, but it was like fighting someone made of iron. She gasped, unable to answer him, even if she had wanted to as his hand closed tighter. Her mind raced, trying to find a way out of this.

"There is no missing piece, is there? Well, I hope you are happy now, doctor, because all of these deaths? They're on your-"

She kicked him. Hard, right in his injured leg. It wasn't enough to get him to let go, in fact, his grip tightened and she saw stars. But it put him off balance. Something clattered across the ground, and she could only hope it was the detonator.

Irajah was small. There was no way she was going to over power him, and she knew it. But there was another option.

Keeping her hands on his forearm, Irajah dropped backwards. Off balance and still gripping her throat, the Zabrak tried to find purchase. But there was none to be had.

Hazel eyes closed as they fell over the edge of the chasm. She didn't know if the fall would kill them both- probably not. But she trusted [member="Ghorua the Shark"] to do what needed to be done.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua didn't know what to think of the look in Irajah's eyes when he tossed her the slugthrower. Things seemed to be going okay. She turned around, and...

There he was. Ghorua couldn't fire his own slugthrower quick enough, before the Zabrak had gotten the Doctor in his grasp. Ghorua growled, a spark of fear burning his soul. They were too close for Ghorua to get in a shot. Was this it? He could tell Irajah was far too weak to do anything about the hand around her neck. It looked like they were all dead.

Yet again, the Shark was mistaken.

As the small girl and the Sith tumbled into the pit above Ghorua, the world went into slow-motion. His genetically-modified reflexes kicked in as he stumbled forward, tossing his handgun to the side. Without thinking, the massive Herglic caught both beings, the larger Zabrak in his uninjured arm, and Irajah in his sore one. He had to catch them both, as the Sith still had his vice-grip on the Doctor's neck. He grimaced in pain as his shoulder was jostled, but remained firm.

The Sith hastily escaped, releasing his hold, and tumbling quickly to his feet. The Shark looked down at the woman in his arms, concern changing to anger as he saw the forming bruises on her neck. He set her down gently, and turned to the Zabrak, shielding his fragile companion with his own body. He brought his fists together hard, sending a crack through the air.

"She saved your miserable life!" Ghorua bellowed out, displaying his serrated teeth. "And this is how you repay her?" Ghorua raised to his full height, looming over the Sith, anger corrupting his features. This anger, however, was very different from the rage that had overtaken him before. Ghorua wanted to kill this guy, but not for the sake of killing. No, he needed to protect the people above, protect the person behind him.

Ghorua reached down to his boot quickly, pulling a vibroknife from a hidden sheath. He flung it toward the injured man, more desperate than anything. But, given no interruption, the blade would strike true, sinking into the center of the Zabrak's chest.

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

The Zabrak twisted, the knife sinking in to the meat of his shoulder with a sickening thwack. He looked up at the Herglic, murder flaring in his eyes. He raised his hand, a mad grin tearing across his face as he stared up at [member="Ghorua the Shark"]. The spark of lightening skittered across his skin, flashing malevolently. His intentions were hideously clear. With the behemouth gone, there would be no one who could realistically stop him.

"Because," he rasped, "She is a fool. A waste. Just as all of the people above us are. But you, my friend. You? You're just dea-"

BANG

He looked confused for a moment, then crumbled, half of his torso shattered by the enormous slug.

When Shark looked behind him, he'd see Irajah. She lay on the floor, his gun held in two, shaking hands. Her breath caught in her throat, hazel eyes staring at what she'd done.

"Is-" her voice shook. "Is he...."

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua frowned as his knife-throw was slightly off-kilter. Now, he was weaponless, at the mercy of the Sith. He heard the menacing words, and only bared his teeth in response. Once the Zabrak flared with electicity, Ghorua closed his eyes, bracing himself, preparing to feel the arcs of dark energy that would greet him.

BANG.

Ghorua opened his dark eyes slowly, surprised to see the broken body of the Sith falling before him. How...

He turned slowly, noticing Irajah holding his blaster, the barrel still smoking. He slowly kneeled down, and gently took the gun from her hands, replacing it into his holster. Sensing her distress, he helped her up from the floor, and enveloped her into a warm hug. He held her against his mighty form softly, trying to comfort the storm inside. If he had to guess, Ghorua would say she didn't often kill people, especially those she had worked so hard to save. "It's alright. He won't be blowing up any more buildings anytime soon."

Ghorua held her at arm's length, inspecting her body for new bruising. "Are you alright? He didn't hurt you too bad, did he?" The Shark saw the hard, dark marks on her neck, and scowled. His eyes trailed up to hers, black against hazel. His voice sounded deep, but fragile. "Thank you."

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

It wasn't that Irajah didn't kill people often.

But that she had never killed anyone.

Her entire body trembled in his embrace, a combination of physical weakness and fatigue, as well as coming down from the fear and adrenaline of the last minute and a half. She wasn't the first to pull away, and when he looked her in the eyes, she was a little wide eyed and pale, even for her. When he asked if he had hurt her too badly, she shook her head slightly, dark curls falling in to her face.

"He was going to kill you," she whispered. And it would have been my fault, were the unspoken words in her eyes. As it was, she knew that the dead Mon Calamari above them was her fault. [member="Ghorua the Shark"]'s statement from earlier echoed in her ears

​

"Go ahead, save the scum. But if he kills us all, I blame you."​

Whatever resolve she'd found in the moment itself was gone. Staying calm in an emergency was easy. But the aftermath? Her knees buckled as she tried to choke back a sob.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua studied the small form before him, looking for some way to console her. He found little; the entire situation had left both of them weak. But Ghorua wouldn't watch the calm, determined Irajah crumble without trying to do something about it.

"Hey. Look at me." Ghorua tried to steady the shaking Doctor, taking the side of her head in one massive palm. "You saved me. That's what matters. You did what you thought was right, something went wrong, and you saved me." Ghorua sat cross-legged in the dust, eye-level with the small Human.

"That's what matters. Now, we move forward." The Herglic gave her an encouraging smile, surprised that he had become the calm one. He may not understand how to deal with himself, but if there was one thing he did know, it was death. "Next step, eh?"

Ghorua looked up to the hole, seeing faces peering over the edge. "Hey! How're things going up there? Is the lift working?" Ghorua hadn't seen the fallen Mon Calamari, but he had smelled the newly-spilled blood, and could only assume the worst. Best to try to avoid the subject.

Ghorua realized why he was so calm. Looking around, he saw only the mechanic's shop, closed off by rubble too big for him to move. The only exit was above, to high for Ghorua to reach. He might've been able to throw Irajah up, but he was certainly stuck here, maybe forever.

Death was staring the Shark in the face, and it was strangely calming.

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

"Lift's working!" A voice called back to [member="Ghorua the Shark"]. The father of the little girl with the broken arm popped his head over the edge.

"If you two can hold out a little while longer, a couple of us are going to get some help. We'll be back as soon as we can. Hang in there, okay?"

He disappeared again, leaving Irajah and Shark to the relative quiet.

"So the next step is waiting?" Her voice was heavy, a little thick with emotion. She paused, looking up at him from where she sat on the floor.

"The next step sucks," she muttered, as vehemently as she could muster.

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua looked down at the fuming figure of Irajah, chuckling to himself. Ghorua had learned long ago that patience was a virtue. Perhaps one of the finer points of having a Bounty Hunter mentor; one could entertain themselves for hours, days on end. Frankly, Ghorua had been a pretty impatient before, and still had his spurts of restlessness. This time, however, he exercised his developed patience.

He leaned back into the rubble, shivering as the shards of duracrete dug into his back. He glanced over at the Doctor, weighing options. Finally, he seemed to decide on something. He crossed his arms, and blew a gust of air out of his blowhole.

The floor shifted again, sending a line of dust from above. Ghorua looked up, then at the woman before him, sticking out his hand to shake. "It's Ghorua. Ghorua Balin. It has been an honor."

He smiled, tiredly, fully accepting the fact that they might die in here together, if help never came, or if the building fell before it could. There was a slim chance that Ghorua could have saved Irajah, that he could've lifted her over the edge of the pit. He was being selfish.

If he was to die today, he'd rather not die alone.

Besides, help was coming. Wasn't it?

Ghorua looked over again, a sad twinge in his eye.

"You got any regrets?"

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

His hand dwarfed hers as she returned the gesture.

"Irajah Ven," she murmured, offering her full name as well. She was still obviously rattled after what had happened. But she offered him a half smile and nodded. Even if the smile was more ghost than real, she appreciated the gesture.

In truth, Irajah wasn't normally particularly impatient. When dealing with stress, what Irajah did was work. For sure, she preferred action to waiting around for someone else to accomplish something- the petite woman wasn't particularly good at sitting still usually. But this was a different situation. Right now, there wasn't anything to do to keep her busy, let alone take her mind off of it.

It.

On the other side of [member="Ghorua the Shark"] was the still slowly bleeding, but rapidly cooling, body of a man that she had killed. And the idea that the only thing they could do now was wait- she didn't know how to cope with that.

The implications of his next question almost went over her head.

"Yeah. I would have bashed his head in with a rock when we first found him. Or at least told you not to try to move the wall."

But then, very slowly, she turned to look at Ghorua. She wasn't so lost in her own personal purgatory to miss the look in his eyes.

"Don't," she said quietly. Then she rose up on her knees and edged closer, close enough that she could put both of her hands on his huge fist.

"Don't you dare," she continued, her voice still low, but now filled with a certain vehemence.

"We're not dying down here. This isn't final absolution."

One hand came up, and she actually jabbed her finger at his chest, hazel eyes flashing. There was real anger there, something she hadn't shown over the last few hours. Suddenly lashing out, she pointed over his shoulder, finger stabbing in the air toward the body of the Zabrak.

"We are NOT dying today. He tried. He tried SO HARD. And kark that. Kark him, do you understand? If we die down here, then I shot him for nothing." Her voice actually broke on that last word, and she sunk back down, letting her arm fall, but not moving her other hand from the top of his.

"If we die down here, he won," she said, her voice low and fierce.

"I'll give you that we have to wait now. That it's someone else's turn to help us. But I will not give you that we have to lose."

All traces of the shaking woman were gone. Or, if not gone, shoved down, deep beneath the indomitable desire to live. To fight.

"So," she said, breathing out in one big whoosh. "So. If you want to talk because it's better than sitting here, staring at each other, let's talk. But not because of that. Not for that reason. Not because we're saying good-bye."

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua looked on with a raised eyebrow as Irajah boiled in anger. He couldn't argue that she didn't have determination. Her will to live was incredible, and overpowering. Did he agree? He wasn't sure.

Ghorua laughed, his deep guffaws echoing around the sealed-off mechanic's shop. "You have spunk, I'll give you that, Ms. Ven." His mirth disappeared, his eyes growing serious and guarded.

"But we might die in here. I hate it, just as much as you, but it's out of our control." Ghorua sat up, above the furious figure of Irajah. "What if the lift breaks while the people are in it? What if the building falls before help comes? What if help never comes?" Ghorua began to feel his own emotions bubble to the surface, but he pushed them down.

'Besides, why would the rescue crews prioritize two people out of hundreds of thousands?" Ghorua lowered his eyes to a spot in the floor between his legs. He saw dirt, shards of glass, broken building, a few spatters of blood.

They had little hope, the more he thought of it. The idea that anyone would risk their lives to save them was minuscule. They were only a Doctor and a Herglic. They weren't Jedi, or dignitaries, or anyone of importance.

"I'm sorry for being the pessimist here, but..." Emotion began to leak into his form, and he cradled his head in one giant hand.

"We just aren't important enough for anyone to care."

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

"I don't care about anyone else," she said, low but fierce. "I care."

​​Irajah's gaze was focused somewhere far beyond the bounds of their stone prison.

"I haven't died yet," she said, her voice almost a whisper. If they hadn't been sitting right next to each other, he wouldn't have been able to hear her. While that was technically true of everyone who was alive, it was obvious that was not how she meant it. "I have to believe that I didn't survive what I have.... just so I can die here in this hole."

She went to stand up. She had to do something- take action- find a way up and out of here- anything. But she'd already pushed her body too far and her knees refused to cooperate. She made it half way up before having to sit down against him, harder than she meant to.

"I'm not giving up yet," she muttered. "And I'm not giving up on you either."

But it was clear that she wasn't going to physically do anything right that moment.

The fact that he was probably right, it lurked. It couldn't help but do that. Once the words were spoken, there was no way to completely excise them. Normally, she'd fight back with action. But right now, that wasn't in the cards.

"So," she ventured, a little grudgingly. Not because she didn't want to know, but because she'd been so vehemently against that kind of thing a moment ago and recognized it. The note of chagrin in her voice was clear.

"Any regrets?"

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua the Shark only looked on hopelessly as Irajah struggled to find an outlet for her optimism. He sank back on his piece of rubble, becoming familiar with the contours on his bare back. He put his hands behind his head, feigning nonchalance. In reality, he did care about the situation, and that reflected in his tense back and neck, but he had to remain calm. For both of them.

Her question caught him off-guard. Perhaps he should have seen it coming, but her scorching response had banished all hopes of that kind of question bouncing back at him. Yet, the Shark considered the implications, and sorted through his mind, thinking deeply.

What did he regret?

"Well..." He started tentatively, testing the waters. "I regret lashing out at you before... And then literally lashing out at you." Ghorua chuckled, trying to find any bright side in their situation. "I guess I regret that I've been so scared all my life."

The Herglic let a beat pass as he continued, only giving the Doctor a quick glance. "I've been so terrified of death all my life. For non-Forcies like us, its the end. Of everything, you know? No afterlife, no ghosts, no vengeful spirits... No nothing." Despite the topic, Ghorua's voice was rather calm and mediated. "But because of my fears, I never really got the chance to experience life for what it was."

The Shark stopped, thinking about what he had just said. "I do like what I've done with my life, but I could've done so much more, and I've hurt myself so much already because of death. And now that its staring me in the face..." Ghorua sighed, coughing as he struggled to find oxygen in the dusty air.

"It's not very scary at all, is it?"

Ghorua stood, wobbling slightly as he reached his full height. He helped Irajah up, letting her use him for support. "That doesn't mean I'm giving up on us. There's still some fight in me yet. Even if no one is looking for us, we'll make our own way out." Ghorua had never felt the emotions now pouring into his system. It was strange. Not hopeful, as he knew he would probably die. Not sad, at least, not entirely. He was simply determined to be determined, and having Irajah there as an anchor gave him the strength to do just that. "Now, lets get to work. I've got dinner plans tonight."

Ghorua surveyed the area again, looking for anything that would help them. Anything at all. What he saw was dismal, useless.

Ghorua suddenly grew a pensive expression as he looked around the room. One could almost see the wheels beginning to turn in his head, unseen ideas growing and dying.

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Irajah's eyes followed him as he moved, watching the expression as it changed and worked its way across his face. His words settled heavily on her. Not all of them. But some. Innocent assumptions. And the realization that this was her fault, in more ways than one.

"We're not."

Her voice was quiet as she wrapped her arms around herself as though she were cold.

"I mean. I'm not," she clarified, then paused, clearly uncomfortable. "A non-force user." There was a surprisingly amount of bitterness in her voice with that.

"I.... don't know what that means. For when people die. If it's really different or not."

She looked away, frowning. Hazel eyes tried to find something, anything else to look at than him in that moment.

"I never really learned. What to do with it. I mean. What if I had? Maybe we wouldn't be in this mess. Or I could figure another way out of it. Just like if we'd killed him first."

She stopped, frown deepening as she looked around the hole. No, that was ridiculous. It had been coincidence, a weakness caused by the explosion.

"I guess- what I'm saying is that- I get it? That doubt, that maybe, I could have been- could have done- more." It was awkward, and she wasn't happy with the words. But she'd never before doubted her choice to not study. Force Users were always so high and mighty. Acting as though they had a right to make decisions for other people's lives. Like they were better, smarter, more evolved than everyone else. She despised it. So where did that leave her?

[member="Ghorua the Shark"]

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

Ghorua examined Irajah in a new light as she admitted to being a Force-User. He had met his fair share of Force-Sensitives; Jedi, Sith, and all manner in-between. Irajah was the first he had ever met that hadn't invested in her power. Ghorua gave her the once-over, once again.

The Shark let her ramble, let her blame herself for a moment longer, before enveloping her face with his palm gently, stopping her from speaking. His voice was rough, but held a hint of humor. "With all due respect, Ms. Ven, shut up." He laughed deeply, despite the sense of hopelessness inside. "That's in the past. Can't change it." The Shark removed his palm from Irajah's face, giving her a sharp grin. Ghorua looked up, gazing at the hole in the ceiling. The opening was too circular, too precise to be completely natural. The pieces began fitting together.

"But we can change the present, which is what I aim on doing. Besides..." Ghorua looked around, taking stock of what equipment he had at his disposal. "What else can we do? Either we wait for help that may never come, or devise a plan that may never succeed. Frankly, I favor the latter."

Ghorua looked back down to Irajah, sympathy in his dark eyes. "You feel guilty. You feel like an idiot. You feel helpless, under-prepared. I'm a Bounty Hunter. I've been through all that. I'm a scoundrel. I lie, I cheat, I steal, I kill," Ghorua gestured with his hand. "I read people. And I can tell you have devoted your life to helping the beings of this galaxy, because you hold a lot of guilt. I get that. I've got my fair share."

The Shark began a slow, tenative walk towards a shelf of fusioncutters. "But... We can't let that get to us." Ghorua spoke to himself just as much as her. Ghorua swallowed hard, trying to believe himself. "We... We have to move forward. Learn from our mistakes."

"I don't know if we'll live to learn from this. We can try, though..." Ghorua picked two large fusioncutters, and tested them, trying not to think of what might happen to the pair of misfits. "Maybe we get out, maybe not."

"Only one way to find out."

- [member="Irajah Ven"] -

 

[Kuzo]

Guilt. So much of it. And not merely from the last few hours. The guilt from the last year was an ever present weight. The responsibility that she gave herself was easy to trace back to her helplessness when the plague had swept over her planet. She couldn't have done anything. Logically, she knew that.

But as is often the case, the guilt ran deeper, in to places that she rarely sat with. Places she rarely pulled the shadows back from. She had decided to become a doctor, follow in her father's foot steps, only after the death of her mother. As a teenager, there was no real ability to say 'I couldn't help her enough, so I must help others instead.' And as an adult, she almost never allowed herself the wallowing of that type of introspection. She always had too much to do, too much work of one sort or another. It was a crutch, to keep herself from thinking too deeply on it all. To keep from dwelling. It was a strategy that allowed her to move through life as she did, not thinking too deeply as to the why of it all. Did the why matter, when the end result was that she helped people?

Irajah was not an altruist. She helped people because it helped her. And that was something she did not like to look too deeply into, for fear of what would be staring back.

She'd shut up when he'd told her to, not because he'd said so, but it would have been hard to talk around the massive hand that covered most of her face. She was quiet for a few moments after he finished speaking as well, a deep, pensive expression on her face.

"You're right."

Adaptive strategies allow people to survive- they turn in to maladaptive strategies when the need for survival is no longer there, but the behaviors continue. For now, that urge to action, the need to accomplish something was a good one. It kept her moving, kept her fighting.

One day, she wouldn't need them. But when that day came, she wouldn't know how to give them up.

She perched, physically exhausted, on a jutting stone coming from the wall.

"We're one floor down," she said slowly.

They'd been looking at this all wrong.

"What if we don't need to go up. "

​[member="Ghorua the Shark"]