Private The Long Way Home

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Ukatis was a familiar world to Gatz.

Not for any good reasons, of course. But once upon a time—well, only a year ago—he'd been a smuggler, ferrying spice and other illicit goods inward from the Outer Rim. And while Gatz had avoided the Core and Inner Core for the most part, Ukatis was just far enough out from the center of the galaxy that he had felt comfortable making illegal deliveries to it. It wasn't a world that he had visited regularly, but he had frequented it enough times to be able to say he was more than just a tourist.

His passenger, on the other hand, was far more familiar with Ukatis.

Gatz had sworn off smuggling, and all other criminal activities, unless he could definitively say such actions were for a good cause. Like smuggling medical supplies and food past a blockade. He wasn't sure, however, if sneaking Valery's Padawan past security was a 'good cause.' He'd agreed because Valery Noble considered her students to be family, and he would always help her family. How could he not, after all she had done for him?

But Gatz had no idea if he was doing the right thing today. No idea if Valery had approved of this trip. Cora was an adult, and she could make her own decisions, but what reason could she have for wanting to visit this world so discretely? He had chosen not to ask—as a smuggler, asking questions like 'why?' was often a death sentence, and so Gatz had developed a healthy habit of respecting people's privacy. But he was curious.

Still, a Jedi was asking something of him, so it almost certainly wouldn't be for malicious intent. Not counting himself, Valery didn't train foul individuals.

As Gatz brought The Red Night in for a quiet landing on an unsuspecting landing pad, Gatz keyed the ship wide comm.

"We're touching down now, if you want to make your way to the cockpit."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

The journey back to Ukatis had been quiet. Cora wasn't sure if that was a good thing, really, but she was thankful for the pilot's discretion. If he'd been the type to poke and prod about her intentions, the blonde didn't know if she'd hold her sabaac face, storm off in anger, or burst into tears.

Possibly all three, in that order.

She'd heard of Gatz Derrevar through Valery - a pilot her Master had an ambiguous history with. Valery seemed to know everyone, and was a good judge of character. If Master Noble trusted him, then so could she.

That being said, she was curious.

Cora adjusted a pair of dark gloves over her hands as she made her way into the cockpit. The Padawan was garbed neither as a Jedi nor an aristocrat - she wore plain traveling clothes, topped with a simple cloak to help her blend in among the local populace. It was clear that she did not want to invite attention.

"Thank you, Gatz."

Smiling distantly at the pilot, she tilted her head briefly in gratitude.

"Have you ever been to Ukatis before?"

As she turned towards the viewport, her eyes softened hauntingly at the sight of a partially demolished city block. The Mandalorian incursion on the capital of Axilla had scored fresh scars into the little agrarian world. It was a senseless attack borne of hurt pride, leaving civilians dead, injured, and unhoused.

The fact that Cora could not help them through official channels pained her deeply.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"Thank you, Gatz."

"Don't mention it. Any Padawan of Valery's is always welcome to my help."

The Jedi wasn't dressed as a Jedi, and to be frank, that made Gatz all that more curious about what this was all about. She was dressed as plainly as possible, with a cloak that could easily be used to obscure her face. It reminded him of people who came to Nar Shaddaa to blend in and get lost in the crowd. Now, maybe Cora just dressed that way... but there was a certain grace to her that made him doubt that.

Gatz didn't like to point fingers, but he was pretty sure Cora was trying to hide in some way.

That thought process was temporarily derailed, however, as the Jedi asked about his familiarity with the planet. Gatz was quiet for a moment, not sure how to answer. Cora knew him through Valery, so did she know what he used to be? Briana had known. It only made sense that Cora would too. Gatz didn't really try to hide his past, but he also didn't just volunteer it to anyone.

But maybe honesty was the best policy today.

"I have, a couple of times," Gatz sighed, "I... I'm not proud to admit it, but I used to smuggle spice. I made a few stops here, over the years."

He wished that admission made it feel like he'd lifted a weight off of his chest. It didn't.

Gatz turned his gaze to the viewport, eying a world that now bore the scars of the Mandalorian conflict with the Galactic Alliance. He shook his head. What stupid, pointless war. Didn't the Mandalorians see that all they were doing was inflicting pain on innocent people? What honor was there in that? Leveling city blocks wasn't a way to prove one's self. It was just... destructive. Nothing more.

Maybe Cora was here to alleviate some of that pain.

"But while we're admitting things..." Gatz trailed off for a moment, trying to think of how to politely phrase his next question, "I didn't want to pry because it isn't my business, but you asked me to bring you to a war-torn world, you look like you're trying to blend in, and Valery will kill me if something happens to you."

"So, why are you here?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"You used to what?"

With a sharp half-turn on her heel, Cora faced Gatz with stern demeanor. Disappointment dripped into her iron tone, like that of a parent scolding their child.

Which was…odd, considering that she was younger than the pilot. While she'd gradually learned of spice - even going so far as to imbibe a tiny bit during a particularly difficult moment - she'd never heard of it used in conjunction with Ukatis.

A few tense seconds, and her face softened, almost apologetically. Gatz hadn't seemed to admit such a thing out of an excess of pride. Still, her cheeks flushed briefly when he directed his curiosity towards her own reasons for needing a quiet ride to Ukatis.

Of course, this must look terribly strange.

Cora tilted her head to the side, blue eyes wandering beyond Gatz and through the viewport again. Instead of taking in the depressing sight of crumbled buildings, her gaze unfocused in thought.

"I am from Ukatis, and my family is still here. I came to check on them."

A brief flash of guilt sank into her chest; it was a selfish request. She should've been here in the capacity of a Jedi, to help heal a people.

"As for this…"

Smoothing the palms of her hands over blonde strands, Cora's fingers next took gentle hold of the cloak that rested around her shoulders.

"Well, it simply wouldn't do to make a fuss, now would it?"

That didn't explain much, but she hoped that her pursed expression and haughty tone would assuage any further questions. Uncurling her grip from the cloak, she rested her hands at her hips, arching a finely manicured blonde brow.

"Does that sate your curiosity, Mr. Derrevar?”

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora's clear disapproval made Gatz wince, and look away. Yeah, Cora was certainly her master's Padawan. One withering gaze, and he already felt like the slimy scumbag he had spent the last year trying not to be. But then, Gatz supposed he would always be scum. One year of trying to do good didn't erase the six years of bad he'd done. Nothing ever would. All Cora's glare did was strip away the façade he had painted himself in, and reveal the rotten core of who he was.

"Used to," Gatz said quietly, head still hung, "I walked away from that life."

But that only meant he wasn't hurting people anymore. It did nothing for those he'd already harmed.

Cora's reasoning for coming to Ukatis made enough sense to him. Her excuse for dressing so plainly though... that didn't add up. He'd snuck them past orbital security, avoided landing at a proper spaceport, and had submitted a false passenger manifest that listed only him on board for a reason. That raised way too many flags for him to accept Cora's reasoning of not wanting to make a "fuss." But, he supposed it wasn't his business. She was here for family, not to do any harm. That was all he needed.

His curiosity wasn't quite sated, however. Cora's tone told him that she wasn't particularly interested in answering any further questions. Unfortunately, Gatz was far more afraid of the Sword than he was of her Padawan.

"No, but you've told me enough that I'm no longer concerned about your intentions." Gatz looked back up at her, her perfect raised brow meeting his furrowed one, "one last thing though: does Valery know you're here? That you reached out to me? Because that is my business."

She was an adult, he reminded himself. Her decisions were her own, he reminded himself. But, seriously, Valery would murder him if something happened to her on his watch. She loved her Padawans like they were her own children. It didn't matter how dear of a friend he was to her, it would be his head on the chopping block, even if what happened to Cora was her own fault.

And if something happened to Cora, and Valery didn't even know she was gone... Hoo boy. No one would ever find his remains.

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

A beat passed, during which Cora observed Gatz quietly. She didn't know what had driven him to his former lifestyle, but had learned that people rarely joined skeevy professions - smuggling, gang dealings and the like - because they were doing well in life.

The way Gatz deflated made her wince in self-reflection. Maybe she'd come off too strong, too harsh. It didn't feel good to make someone else feel bad.

Especially after Gatz had gone out of his way to do her a favor, too.

Concerned?

The fact that he'd even thought to question her intentions nearly had her scoffing. How dare he-

Cora forcibly derailed that train of thought. Lately, the Padawan didn't have the best decision-making track record. Gatz had asked a normal question, and she subdued her offense in favor of giving him an honest answer.

"She knows." Cora confirmed. "You won't get in trouble."

At least, not with Valery. Probably.

Blue eyes wandered towards the window again, squinting in thought before they returned to the pilot. She'd received confirmation that most of her family had been safely tucked away at the Ascania estate during the assault, further from the capital. Her younger sister, Fantine, had been attending finishing school in Axilla and was currently unaccounted for.

That didn't change the fact that Cora technically wasn't supposed to be here. For a few long moments, she weighed keeping quiet over divulging a little more information.

"If you must know, I was in a tiny bit of trouble last time I was here. A smidgeon, really. Prior to the invasion, I mean."

Her words were clipped, her tone tight as if she were trying to say and it wasn't my fault!

It had been. Pushing a man to his death, regardless of circumstance, was still a murder. Still a crime.

Cora waved a hand dismissively, an undercurrent of irritation in her voice as she flicked her wrist in an attempt to dismiss the thought entirely.

"Now, are you going to join me on the surface or stay cooped up in here?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

"Oh, good. I piss her off enough as is."

Gatz sighed, feeling a small amount of relief. If Cora got hurt here, it would still be his ass on the line, but at least Valery knew that she was here. He hadn't just absconded with her, which would have been far more dangerous. Still... adult or not, the haughty woman was still his responsibility until he returned her to the Temple on Coruscant. Or Valery's home. Whichever came first.

And that meant he had to be ready to jump in front of a blaster if it was pointed in her direction. Not his favorite thing to do: getting hurt for other people. But it was something he had more than enough experience with. Gatz may as well have been a pro at it.

Unfortunately, the person he had to be ready to die for was a haughty, arrogant girl who thought she could talk to him however she liked. She was barely more than a teenager. He was well into his twenties. And he was sufficiently annoyed.

"Alright, that's enough." His voice was firm and bold, but he wasn't yelling, "Cut the attitude. You'll speak to me with respect, and I will do the same for you. Or, you can continue to speak to me like a bratty teenaged girl, and I can treat you like one."

Gatz stood from his seat, and walked past Cora for the cockpit door.

"The choice is yours. Either way, I'm coming with you. Until you're safely back at Valery's side, you're my responsibility. And if I'm asking questions you're uncomfortable with, I apologize, but it's to make sure I can get you there. Val would tolerate nothing less from me."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora blinked, genuinely stunned as Gatz's voice firmed. For a moment, her expression shifted into one that was on the precipice of either bursting into tears or yelling up a storm.

A beat passed, and the younger blonde let out a long exhale.

"I'm sorry. It…isn't easy being here."

Her words were softer, the pompousness having drained from her voice and posture in one fell swoop. Arrogance was prevalent in the class she'd been raised in, and though Jedi training had stemmed much of her superior attitude, occasionally Cora forgot that such a thing didn't fly in the greater galaxy. Commoners had their pride, too.

Her gaze followed Gatz as he moved towards the cockpit door, a small half-smile lifting one corner of her lips. "Master Noble is certainly not one to get on the bad side of. I've no doubt she would have words for me, if she'd heard the way I spoke to you."

Two hands adjusted the way the cloak sat around her shoulders, moving down to pat the lightsaber at her hip through the fabric.

"A few blocks from here is Madame von Berlioz's Finishing School for Young Ladies. My little sister is there."

An uncomfortable lump welled in her throat, which she attempted to swallow down. At least, I hope that she still is…

Her hands next drew the hood over her head, smoothing back wispy blonde strands so that they were less visible. "I'd like to go there first."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora's face changed, and Gatz immediately felt guilty. He shouldn't have, he knew. He wasn't out of line for firmly addressing the way Cora was speaking to him. But porcelain features twisted into some mixture between grief and anger, and suddenly he no longer had it in him to be annoyed with the Padawan. He just wanted to apologize and hug the poor girl before she cried. Or yelled.

Dammit. He was going soft—oh, who was he kidding. He'd always been soft. If he hadn't been... well, Gatz doubted he'd have spent the last year following in Valery's footsteps.

"Master Noble is certainly not one to get on the bad side of. I've no doubt she would have words for me, if she'd heard the way I spoke to you."

"Nah, don't sweat it," Gatz shook his head, and then offered Cora his hand, "how about we start again? Gatz Derrevar, former smuggler, currently... trying to do better."

It wasn't like he was some saint. Cora had only gotten a little haughty with him. He'd shot people in cold blood before. Really, she had every right to treat him the way she had. He was, at his core, still scum. Just... scum that was trying to pretend that he could be anything else. But he didn't have time to dwell on that, not with Cora's family in need of her.

That was when the blonde Padawan dropped the name of a school that sounded way too fancy. And things finally clicked for Gatz.

"I can't believe I didn't see it," Gatz chuckled, "you're a rich girl like Briana! Now I get it!"

That fact should have made him seethe. It should have lit his blood alight, burning him up from the inside. He'd grown up dirt poor, watching as the aristocracy of Naboo strutted in clothes that cost more than his shed of a house. He had every right to hate the rich. And yet... he could only shake his head with a mirthful smile on his face.

Dammit. The Sal-Sorens were making him tolerant. He'd have to talk to them about that.

"Let's go check-up on your sister," Gatz offered, "and on the way, we'll see if there's anything we can do for the people here. They deserve a little kindness."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora regarded the proffered hand for a long moment. "Very well, Gatz Derrevar who is trying to do better." Slipping her hand into his own, she gave it a single, firm shake. "Corazona von Ascania. Jedi Padawan and...Ukatis native."

It wasn't as if she'd had to stop herself from adding Exiled Princess who killed her husband to the introduction, but it felt awkward enough to mention her ties to the planet in any context. Even though they were here.

"I can't believe I didn't see it," Gatz chuckled, "you're a rich girl like Briana! Now I get it!"

One blink, and Cora balked. The smooth, even expression she wore scrunched up. "I don't love the way you said that." Or the fact that he was smiling, really. "But yes, I suppose it is true that I come from a family of means."

Means was an understatement. The Ascania family was Ukatian old money, one of the wealthiest families on the little agrarian world.

The younger blonde nodded faintly to Gatz's suggestion. The people here deserve more than a little kindness, but what could she do? Perhaps if she'd simply stuck out her marriage with Prince Horace, she'd have been here sooner to help rebuild her people from a position that could do more.

The ramp lowered into the rubble of a towering skyscraper, and Cora felt her heart thunder rapidly as they descended to the ground below. War changed everything; even the air in Axilla seemed different than she'd remembered. Two small twin suns loomed on the horizon, painting the evening sky with not just fiery hues, but a range of colors. Reds, oranges, yellows, even purples, blues, and a few faint shades of green twined to create a beautiful sunset that seemed to mock the ravaged city below.

"I'm not sure if you've ever been outside of Axilla on your…escapades," A trickle of venom worked into her tone, but she moved past it. "but much of Ukatis is farmland. Usually it is the people in those provinces who suffer from a lack of modern healthcare and amenities. The Mandalorians only targeted the capital though, leaving the farmland untouched."

They walked past a partially collapsed apartment building, the kind catastrophe that caught your eye. Cora's gaze lingered on twisted metal and cracked duracrete. "This time, it was the city that suffered." She said quietly.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora clearly wasn't particularly pleased by his particular choice of words. It was sort of funny really: rich people didn't like to be told that they were rich, anymore than poor people liked to be told they were poor. Mass amounts of wealth aside, maybe aristocrats weren't all that different from commoners. They had snobbier attitudes, to be sure, but that didn't make them alien. Unless they were actually aliens.

"If it makes you feel any better, some of my favorite people are rich. The Sal-Soren's are probably nearly as well off as you."

Gatz followed Cora down the ramp, and was greeted with one hell of a sight. Axilla had certainly seen better days. Far better, considering that Gatz had never seen even a single city block demolished here, like he was now. The Mandalorians had done one hell of a number to the Padawan's home, and it made something hot burn in his chest. To wage war just for the sake of it... for someone weened on the Jedi Way, it was like experiencing heresy up close.

"How do they see honor in any of this?" It was a rhetorical question, even if it was voiced. He didn't expect Cora to have an answer. He just needed to voice his anger. So consumed with frustration at the sight of the Mandalorian's carnage, he even let her jab at his former occupation pass by without argument.

As Gatz let Cora guide him through the ravaged streets, he constantly found his eyes wandering to the natives of Ukatis. They moved hurriedly down the roads, and out of sight, as if they were expecting the Mandalorians to make another bombing pass. Maybe that was exactly what they expected. Gatz couldn't blame them for being wary, not now that he'd seen the aftermath of the war.

"Have you heard from your sister," Gatz chose his words carefully, "since... this?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"The Sal-Sorens…"

Cora cocked her head to the side, the sourness fading from pursed lips. That’s right, he'd mentioned Briana - it would've sounded odd, had Valery not been their conjoining link. For all of the time she'd spent on Coruscant, she'd never formally crossed paths with the Nabooian Princess. Cora did want to meet her Master's former Padawan, but it seemed that they'd simply never had the opportunity to.

She made a mental note to invite the other woman to tea, a pleasant thought that was almost immediately sobered by their dismal surroundings.

The anger in Gatz's voice was palpable, the kind that you could feel like a heat against your back. Cora found it oddly soothing, in a way. Misery - and ire - loved company, and the Jedi allowed herself to feel righteous anger burn through her veins. It took a few long moments for that feeling to fade as she consciously centered herself.

"I haven't heard from her yet, no." The Padawan admitted quietly. "Most of our family is safe at the estate, far away from where the Mandalorians ravaged. The second eldest - my brother Dominick - led nobility and commoners alike through an underground passage to the safety of the countryside. I've been in touch with him; he's assisting at a refugee camp."

As she spoke, the fingers of one hand ghosted against the bridge of her nose. It had been broken while she and Makko had slowed encroaching Mandalorian elements in the network of tunnels beneath the palace, buying time for civilians to escape. Though she'd been given prompt medical attention, there was still a slight crick in alignment, and occasionally some surprising clots of blood when she blew her nose.

One demolished apartment block flowed into the next, and suddenly Cora halted at the threshold of a partially collapsed building. The destruction was such that the first few floors were visible to the open air, as if some great monster had taken a bite of the dwelling itself. The young Jedi lingered, her gaze tightening sharply on the debris piled at the bottom of the first floor.

A feeble, dusty cough sounded from beneath the rubble, followed by a whimper too pitched to be the building groaning. Alarmed, Cora shot wide-eyes at Gatz.

“Someone’s there!"

No sooner did the words leave her lips did she rush forward, clambering over snapped wooden beams and chunks of duracrete, her heart beating wildly with adrenaline.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

The fact that Cora hadn't heard from her sister had Gatz worried. A full scale invasion that left whole buildings reduced to rubble, and now a family member was full blown missing? That was a story that rarely ended happily. And it was a story that Gatz knew all too well: the Cataclysm had left many families on Naboo torn asunder, and too many had been unable to ever be whole again.

Gatz understood why Cora was so insistent on checking on her sister first. And, in turn, he was committed to the goal wholeheartedly. He'd lost his family. All of them. He wouldn't wish that on anyone. If he could help unite a pair of sisters...

Well, it was what Uncle Klein would have wanted him to do.

"It's good that the rest of your family is safe. Let's go find your sis—"

Cora took off, having heard someone buried under rubble, apparently. Gatz followed on her heels, coming across a building that had been reduced to nothing more than a pile of duracrete and durasteel. But there must have been a stairwell, or a basement, because the groaning sound was coming from a pile of rubble at floor level.

There wasn't time to waste, so Gatz jumped in. He started pulling small chunks of rubble away, revealing a small gap between several larger chunks of ruin. The dimmest light could be spotted through it, and a whimper followed suit. Gatz wrapped his hands around one of the larger pieces of duracrete, and heaved.

To no avail. The chunk was just too big, and too heavy.

A different tactic, then.

Gatz sucked in a deep breath, and cleared his mind. With his eyes open, and a hand outstretched, he reached out for the Force. The chunk he'd just failed to life trembled, and rose at a turtle's pace. A bead of sweat ran down his brow, and Gatz could feel himself tiring out with just this one effort, but he refused to relent. He held his grip on the rubble until it was well clear of the area they were trying to dig up.

Then he let it drop to the ground with a gasp.

"Cora, I could use a hand here," Gatz panted, "Valery's trained you a lot more than she's trained me."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Her hands hurried to clear away smaller bits of more manageable debris so that they didn't fall on whoever was entombed as the larger piece would be removed. Yet, her eyes were on Gatz, her sense honed in on the ebbs and flows around him.

She observed for a few quiet seconds as he wrapped his telekinetic grip around a jagged hunk of duracrete, his face creasing with effort as the chunk slowly drifted to the side, clear of where they'd been digging, and clattered to the ground.

Valery hadn't mentioned that-

"Cora, I could use a hand here,"

"Right!"

Wiping the stun from her face, Cora clambered to her feet. A deep inhale almost had her coughing from the fine particles in the air, but she poured her focus into what was directly in front of her. With eyes closed, the Jedi allowed herself to drift into the Force. Both hands splayed out in front of her, weaving esoteric energy between slabs of duracrete as if it were a living net.

Beneath the rubble, faint trickles of life could be felt.

Several chunks of large debris rose into the air, hovering in place as if they were being supported by jets of wind. Faint rays of dying sunlight streaked across the form of a well-dressed young woman laying atop a child. Both of them were covered in dust so thoroughly that they looked like statues.

The woman moved, shifting slightly and squinting with bleary eyes. She tried to speak, but could only manage a weak hide that turned into a dry cough.

Though she still had her eyes closed, concentrating on keeping the stones in the air, a surge of familiarity struck Cora.

"Get…them…" She murmured through gritted teeth.

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Cora's display of telekinesis was nothing short of amazing. Gatz had been proud of how far he'd come in such a short time... but face to face with what this Padawan was capable of, he was coming to understand that Valery Noble was only being nice when she told him she was satisfied with his progress. She'd merely painted on a kind face, promising him that what she taught him would let him help more people.

But Gatz couldn't have helped these people. If Cora hadn't been here, they'd have died long before he could dig them out. That brought with it a painfully obvious realization: for all his focus on Valery's lessons, he hadn't made any actual progress at all. For all his effort, he still couldn't help anyone.

To think: he actually thought he could make Valery proud, one day.

What a joke. Just like him. Playing at being a Jedi.

"Get…them…"

The strain in Cora's words snapped Gatz out of his selfish struggle with his own confidence. With the very real threat of Cora losing her grip, and burying him under rubble, he dashed for the woman and her child. He didn't bother with trying to get them to their feet—Gatz just scooped up the woman in a bridal carry, as she held onto her child for dear life.

His legs and arms still felt like jelly, from his own pitiful effort earlier. But he'd be damned if that was going to stop him. Maybe he couldn't be the person to help them when they were in need, but he could still be the tool that Cora needed to help her finish the job. That wasn't enough—knowing he hadn't been enough to help them would sting for days to come—but if it meant that this woman and her child survived, then what else really mattered?

Once Gatz finally made it clear of the rubble, his legs finally gave out, and he collapsed onto one knee. Thankfully, his arms still kept the survivors secured.

"We're clear! You can drop it!"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

With a gasp, Cora released her hold on the stones. They dropped with a heavy clatter back onto the pile of debris. After a few moments to catch her breath from the sudden exertion, the Padawan was at Gatz's side. Without delay, she pressed one hand to the young woman's forehead, and the other to the child's.

A few beats passed, during which the Padawan kept her eyes closed.

"They'll be alright," She breathed out sharply, suddenly conscious of her erratically beating heart now that the immediate danger was over.

With eyes fluttering open, she tilted her head towards Gatz and gave him a faint smile. "That was close, I'm glad-"

The young woman coughed, murmuring as she shifted slightly in the pilot's arms. Slowly, her slivered gaze widened, clover green irises standing out starkly against the soot clinging to her skin. Cora frowned, using the edge of her cloak to wipe some of the ash from her face.

The pause that washed over them may have been silent, but it held an eerie, emotionally charged quality. Then, the Padawan's voice cracked.

"Fantine? Is that…you?!"

What was she doing here, in the rubble of residential building blocks away from the academy she was supposed to be at? Cora bit back her need for answers, opting instead to wrap her hand around her sister's own and bask in the momentary relief of finding her alive.

Fantine stared back, gaze unfocused as her mind worked to shuffle all of the pieces into place. Finally, her lips parted in a dry, shuddering croak of recognition.

"Oh. Hi, Cora."

Still a bit out of sorts, the younger Ascania squinted up at Gatz.

"You're cute."

"Fantine."

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons:
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

The woman in his arms was still for a moment, and Gatz feared the worst. He could still feel her if he reached out with his mind—she hadn't rejoined the Force yet. But she had just been crushed under a building. He had no idea what kind of shape she was in, externally or internally. For all he knew, this woman and the child in her arms could be on the brink.

Then she coughed, clearly gaining awareness of her surroundings, and Gatz sighed in relief.

Cora was there then, at his side. She was winded after her effort, of course, but no worse for wear. Good. At the moment, he would still be able to bring her back to Valery in one piece. She took a moment to wipe the ash and dust away from the woman's face, only for recognition to flash in her eyes. He felt something akin to both relief and worry sprout from her in the Force.

Considering they'd just saved her sister after she was trapped under a building, Gatz figured those were appropriate emotions to feel.

"You're cute."

"Fantine."

Gatz let out another sigh of relief. If Fantine could joke, she probably wasn't on her death bed.

"Yeah, I get that a lot," Gatz smiled, and added a little lie, "in fact, Cora here was just telling me the same thing. Unfortunately, I only have eyes for a very troublesome Zeltron Padawan. Real shame, for all of us."

He really hoped that didn't get back to Lossa Darcuhl . He'd be mortified, and he was pretty sure she'd never let him live it down.

But then Gatz looked down at the child in Fantine's arms, alive, but breathing weakly. As much as he would have liked to stay here and fake flirt forever, both the kid and Cora's sister needed medical attention.

"All jokes aside, we need to get the two of you to a hospital." He turned to Cora, "where's the closest one, assuming it's not a pile of rubble?"

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

To his teasing, Cora sent Gatz a sidelong, halfhearted glare. It lacked any real malice, especially when her face was awash with relief.

Fantine pouted.

"Way to break a girl's heart. Hmph."

Cora rolled her eyes. "Don't do that. He's far too old for you." It was a guess, really. She imagined Gatz had to be in his mid-twenties, when her little sister was in her mid-teens.

"There's a medial center a few block away. Saint Merici's. Probably a few pop-ups in between here and there as well."

Bracing her hands on her knees, Cora rose from the rubble and carefully picked her way back to the road, nudging aside debris to clear a better path for Gatz and their charges. The little girl had awoken with sleepy murmurs, to which the younger of the Ascania sisters shushed her softly.

"Fantine, how did you end up…in a place like that? It's not close to the academy."

The brunette sighed, her arms tightening around the child. "Lilette ran away last night because she was worried about her family and wanted to check on them. I'm not sure how she ended up in that building, but when I went out looking for her, I heard her crying from under all those rocks. When I grabbed her, even more came tumbling down." She frowned, looking down at the girl. Her breathing had evened, but she still seemed disoriented. "I didn't see any blood, so that's a good thing."

Cora's brow creased. "Lilette von Duschendorff?"

"Mhm."

"Her older brother Albrecht is a Jedi."

"…How does that help?"

"Gatz, feel free to drop her at any point."

"Hey!"

Cora shook her head. As tense as things were, the sisterly banter was a little more of a relief. It wasn't her usual style, but she'd notice the trembling in Fantine's hands start to steady.

The mention of Gatz having eyes for a Zeltron Padawan had quietly piqued Cora's interest, though she failed to show it. Lossa Darcuhl was the only person she knew of who fit that description, but she'd been told that the young woman had left the Order. Still, she'd been present for Makko's Knighting and the subsequent celebration, during which Cora had been a little too tense knowing the past that the pair had shared. In the end, she found Lossa to be quite lovely, and felt silly for regarding her harshly at first.

"That's good that there's no blood, but they'll want to check you out to make sure that there's no damage to your insides." The elder sister explained as she pushed open the door to the hospital, standing to the side to allow Gatz to bring the injured through first.

The medical center was busy, tending to a never ending stream of wounded in the wake of a disaster. Fortunately, aid from the Alliance kept the health system from the brink of collapse, bringing fresh supplies and personnel from Coruscant as well as the surrounding worlds. They only had to wait a few minutes before being approached by medical staff who whisked the two girls away for evaluation.

Cora's gaze lingered on the door her sister had disappeared behind.

"Thank you." She said softly. Genuine gratitude and relief were palpable in her voice.

"So…" Cora turned to Gatz, both brows raised high. "A troublesome Zeltron Padawan, then?"

Gatz Derrevar

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Corazona von Ascania

Gatz met Cora's glare with a smile. Any day he got to annoy a rich girl was a good one, in his book at least.

"Don't do that. He's far too old for you."

"Listen to your sister," Gatz agreed, "if a man in his mid-twenties—or older—ever makes a real pass at you, you run in the opposite direction. And call the authorities. Or just call Cora. That's probably more efficient."

With a tired groan, the former smuggler stood, two bodies still weighing down his arms. He was still exhausted from his earlier effort, as embarrassing as that was. He pulled on the Force, just lightly, to give himself a little extra strength. It didn't relieve the aches or the budding headache, but Fantine and her borrowed child did feel a little lighter in his arms.

Cora led them down the cracked streets of Axilla, chatting with her sister. Gatz stayed quiet for once in his life, letting the young Padawan have her moment of relief. Fantine had been at the top of her list of people she was worried about. Fantine was, as it turned out, mostly okay. Cora deserved a little bit of time to enjoy that, even if her sister was annoying her at the same time.

Cora insisted that he could drop Fantine at any time. He merely smiled.

When they entered the medical center, they were quickly greeted by the staff, with a pair of stretchers in tow. Gatz gently laid Fantine on one, before extracting the younger girl from her arms, and placing her on another. They were whisked away, quickly. Which, honestly, impressed Gatz. He figured they'd be stuck in the waiting room for hours on end.

He was glad to be wrong.

"Thank you." The genuine gratitude in Cora's tone was a far cry from the attitude she'd copped on his ship. Maybe she'd make it as a Jedi, after all.

"You don't have to thank me," Gatz shook his head, "It was just the decent thing to do. But... you're welcome."

Naturally, the Padawan turned what could have been a touching moment between budding friends, into a teasing moment that had Gatz pinching the bridge of his nose. But then he sighed, and allowed himself a smile.

"Yeah," Gatz nodded, " Lossa Darcuhl can be a handful. But if you've ever heard her laugh... well, you'd understand. Some things in life are worth the trouble."

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

"The district we're in is more affluent than most." Cora glanced over to Gatz, offering him an explanation to a question he hadn't asked. The waiting room was crowded, so the pair found a cozy spot against the wall to stop and rest. "The staff likely recognized their surnames. Anyone who has von in their name is typically of a certain class."

It was why Fantine and Lilette had been taken in so quickly. They were from wealthy families.

"The Alliance tries not to prioritize one civilian over another based on affluence, but old habits die hard on Ukatis."

There was a gentleness to the way she spoke, now more aware that class division could be a raw subject. It wasn't fair. It was something she had designs to change, at one point, when she'd been apart of the royal family and perhaps wielded he influence to slowly chip away at ancient customs.

The way Gatz spoke about Lossa brought a genuine smile to her face. "Some things certainly are." She agreed. Unclipping the water bottle at her belt, Cora took a cursory sip before offering it to Gatz.

"She's close to one of my…friends." It hurt a little to call Makko just a friend, but after everything that had happened, she supposed it was still good that he at least wanted to be around her. "I met her once, she's very nice. Pretty. Has good taste in shoes, too."

"Can I ask how you two met?"

Gatz Derrevar