The Slowhand
Location: Eastern SCC
Friends: Andromeda Malvern Cadere Mathieu Brion
Foes: Osam (Directly) Sylok'Vanari (less so)
Gear: Lightsaber, Silver Jedi Knight Plate, Rebreather
The world twisted and turned upside down, back again. The screech and tear of the ship striking solid ground drowned out everything else. Impact shook the ship, set the Zabrak's bones shaking. The straps holding him down dug into his shoulders, squeezed his chest. He held on for dear life, kept holding on 'til the ship stopped moving. He couldn't tell how long it took. A minute. Less. The ringing in his ears and pain in his injured leg were reassuring, at least.
It meant he was still alive.
Undoing his straps, Varn made to stand. Voices, tentative and worried, filled the small space around him. A mess, it no longer resembled the space-worthy vessel it had once been. The back end had sheared away entirely, and hung out over what Varn imagined was a yearning abyss. He didn't bother finding out whether that was the truth. He would find out soon enough, Force willing.
Looking around, he watched as the other specialists went about their business. The ruined holoprojector stuttered and died, drowning the crew bay in near darkness. Ambient light poured in through the side hatches, providing just enough by which to see. From the half-light a familiar voice called out to him. Soft, worried, it made Varn forget the terrible situation they found themselves in. For a heartbeat, he smiled.
Andromeda.
A flair of pain in his leg made the smile fade. Taking a few steps towards the voice, Varn reached out a hand as his padawan drifted into view. "I'm here, Andromeda. I'm here." Undoing the straps holding his padawan in place, Varn offered his arm in support. Though she looked fine, he could not be certain. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask. "Are you okay?" Listening for her reply, the knight didn't notice the sudden shift in the Force until it had happened.
Twisting, Varn stared through the cockpit's cracked viewport. What he saw made his hearts beat faster.
"Get d-" Was all he managed before the splutter of carbine fire silenced him. Throwing himself flat, Varn watched as the rounds tore into- through the ship. No doubt the armor plating stopped a few, but that didn't do the pilots any good. The rest of the specialists -those still living- mimicked Varn, got low, fast. They got to watch the pilots die, too. The sight filled Varn with a sorrow he couldn't quite put into words.
Sometimes he envied Andromeda her blindness.
When the shooting stopped, the Jedi clambered to his feet. He didn't say a word to Andromeda as he stepped out through the right hatch, his lightsaber springing to life as the fated enemy Osam came into view. Tall, red-scaled, the warlord had made of himself a target. A big one, perhaps one too big for Varn to handle. That didn't stop the knight as he broke into a run, the emerald fire in his hand cutting a swathe of light through the gloom.
When he called on the Force, it answered in an instant. Rubble shifted and cracked as it rose, bits and pieces of stone and metal spinning of their own accord in the air at Varn's back. Whipping his arm forward, he felt the rush of air as they passed him by, hurtling in the direction of Osam in the same instant Cadere threw a grenade.
Friends: Andromeda Malvern Cadere Mathieu Brion
Foes: Osam (Directly) Sylok'Vanari (less so)
Gear: Lightsaber, Silver Jedi Knight Plate, Rebreather
The world twisted and turned upside down, back again. The screech and tear of the ship striking solid ground drowned out everything else. Impact shook the ship, set the Zabrak's bones shaking. The straps holding him down dug into his shoulders, squeezed his chest. He held on for dear life, kept holding on 'til the ship stopped moving. He couldn't tell how long it took. A minute. Less. The ringing in his ears and pain in his injured leg were reassuring, at least.
It meant he was still alive.
Undoing his straps, Varn made to stand. Voices, tentative and worried, filled the small space around him. A mess, it no longer resembled the space-worthy vessel it had once been. The back end had sheared away entirely, and hung out over what Varn imagined was a yearning abyss. He didn't bother finding out whether that was the truth. He would find out soon enough, Force willing.
Looking around, he watched as the other specialists went about their business. The ruined holoprojector stuttered and died, drowning the crew bay in near darkness. Ambient light poured in through the side hatches, providing just enough by which to see. From the half-light a familiar voice called out to him. Soft, worried, it made Varn forget the terrible situation they found themselves in. For a heartbeat, he smiled.
Andromeda.
A flair of pain in his leg made the smile fade. Taking a few steps towards the voice, Varn reached out a hand as his padawan drifted into view. "I'm here, Andromeda. I'm here." Undoing the straps holding his padawan in place, Varn offered his arm in support. Though she looked fine, he could not be certain. Maybe it wouldn't hurt to ask. "Are you okay?" Listening for her reply, the knight didn't notice the sudden shift in the Force until it had happened.
Twisting, Varn stared through the cockpit's cracked viewport. What he saw made his hearts beat faster.
"Get d-" Was all he managed before the splutter of carbine fire silenced him. Throwing himself flat, Varn watched as the rounds tore into- through the ship. No doubt the armor plating stopped a few, but that didn't do the pilots any good. The rest of the specialists -those still living- mimicked Varn, got low, fast. They got to watch the pilots die, too. The sight filled Varn with a sorrow he couldn't quite put into words.
Sometimes he envied Andromeda her blindness.
When the shooting stopped, the Jedi clambered to his feet. He didn't say a word to Andromeda as he stepped out through the right hatch, his lightsaber springing to life as the fated enemy Osam came into view. Tall, red-scaled, the warlord had made of himself a target. A big one, perhaps one too big for Varn to handle. That didn't stop the knight as he broke into a run, the emerald fire in his hand cutting a swathe of light through the gloom.
When he called on the Force, it answered in an instant. Rubble shifted and cracked as it rose, bits and pieces of stone and metal spinning of their own accord in the air at Varn's back. Whipping his arm forward, he felt the rush of air as they passed him by, hurtling in the direction of Osam in the same instant Cadere threw a grenade.