Private Finding Friends in Strange Places

[Lossa Darcuhl]

Location: Quesaya, Foothills
Equipment: Skinsuit, Full Wayward Samaritan Gear
Accessories: Bracelet, Echo Stone
Weapons: Lightsaber, Turmoil, Concealed Blaster, Nasty-Stabby
Ship: Skiptown
Tags: Vizion Trozky

The reports after the conflict between the Alliance and the Mandalorians had been filtering in. And while she hadn't been making any drastic notes about the casualties, she had been keeping an eye out for any familiar names.

One that stuck out being Vizion, last reported on a tucked away planet by the name of Quesaya.

A place she had to look up and research to understand what might have happened. A pocket of fighting had erupted their. While the system itself hadn't seemed important, it was still a border planet to the Alliance. And the ever expanding cloud of influence had found resistance there by the warrior invaders. Her own feelings muddled with everything that was happening.

Uncertainty and inner turmoil put aside for a cause that had warranted her visit to the Alliance office for updates on their search for her former classmate.

Finding their casual labeling of his disappearance as missing in action disheartening. And in equal measure infuriating. The failings of the system mounting in the back of her mind as she left in a huff, finding her ship and pondering shooting a message to Briana about it. Vaguely remembering the two had a past with a heavy sigh. Covering her eyes before making a decision.

Her own anger filtering through as she kicked the footrest and slammed her fists against the arms of the seat.

"Fethfethfethfethfethfeth it all!" Frustration and pain mingling as she yanked the control panel towards herself and dialed in the coordinates. Pausing to confirm them against her datapad before taking off. Gaining enough clearance on her path to jump to the system and begin narrowing her search.

Howling into atmosphere with the heavy ship before coasting across the sky, letting her scanners do the heavy lifting as she spied the landscape.

A mix of environments below greeted her. Rolling plains giving way to slow rising foothills and shifting once more into jagged spires of earth and stone that appeared to leap from the ground to touch the edge of space. Anywhere seemed a viable place given the lack of significant battle damage. Small scorch marks here and there gave her little to go on. Even less given the lack of trees.

She could barely make out the tracts of grass that had been pushed down.

"Well chit. Gotta make this hard huh, Viz?" Already griping as the Sensors picked up a faint life sign that seemed to bounce around. A horrible sign given what she remembered about the meaning of that.

"Ah Force Viz. Please please please don't tell me you hid in the mountains." Another frustrated howl from her as she set the ship down on a flat piece of land at the base of the mountains.

Staring up at the landmarks before groaning and checking that she'd packed extra medical supplies. Tapping the top of her helmet to check the Seals before beginning her none to quiet hike upwards.

"You had better be out cold Viz."

 

[Vizion Trozky]

THE BROKEN KNIGHT
IN THE MOUNTAINS ☛ QUESAYA
Lossa Darcuhl

He’d be sorry to disappoint: the mountains were exactly where the Brentaalan had tucked himself away, and she’d simply have to cope. Like he was.

When Vizion Trozky thought to tuck himself into the lower floor of a building and wait for the Mandalorians to get near enough that he could take advantage of it, after being a thorough pain in the ass to those that had ended up hunting him, he hadn't realised that he had been spotted slipping into this position… nor had it occurred to him that one of the tin cans would get impatient and decide to fire a wrist rocket at the building, damning any civilians that remained in the area. Normally this wouldn't utterly collapse a structurally sound building, but many of the structures here had been compromised either by the conflict, or by time, worn by the elements.

This building had come down on top of him. It was some small mercy that he hadn't been crushed, but he was buried, knocked out for a time, and somehow the fact that he stil lived evaded any sort of detection, but that wasn't something he was dwelling on. By the grace of adrenaline, sheer will, and a dose of force-fuelled endurance, he was working his way into the mountains with a leg broken and torn into by rebar that had shredded through muscle. He'd lost blood. That was the biggest concern out of the accumulated injuries that came from effectively being flattened.

Like a bug.

But he didn't have the mental faculties to spare to feel sorry for himself at this time. No, he was only concerned with not being found by the wrong people, by doing something that would have otherwise been phenomenally stupid, and squirrelling himself away in the mountains, as deep as he could get before his strength gave out, or his grip on consciousness did.

Fortunately he had managed to find his way into a shallow cave, an alcove really, to wait out the time until… well, until some hopefully sympathetic being came across him, or death took him; something told him that it wasn't yet his time, as he blinked in and out of consciousness.

He felt so very tired...