Ballard of the Ghost & Outcast

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Whir
Eshan System, Eshan Orbit
Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Kyle carried the bleeding and visibly distraught Alkor towards a distant shuttle straddling Eshan's surface, its' sun had been long obscured and atleast one moon visibly hung brightly high into the night's cool sky. Two more blaster bolts slam into the Sergeant's back earning a grunt from Whir who hands their wounded companion to an Echani man wearing the white overcoat of a Physician using their bulk as a shield for the two men against those who yet followed and yet Kyle does not fire back, no. Their time for making war in this Titanic battle had passed and would happily pay for their sins through penance given life by the tiniest burning sensations of pain that actually managed to permeate through the nerves in body upto brain.

Following closely in Alkor's shadow through the shuttle's doorframe Kyle pivots in their boots and levels rifle toward the pursuing armoured warriors, they dove into cover for a moment quieting the blaster fire. "Take off now, or we all die." In a glowering cold metallic tone speaks with a finality to the situation before following it with a biting command from Helmet's annunciator earning a nod of acquiescence from the woman piloting fifty-odd meter long evacuation craft, laden with injured Citizens and the occasional lonely deserter. Another final bolt howls through Eshan's atmosphere while the shuttle's thick durasteel airlock slides into a closed position.

It manages to clear the partition and smash violently into Kyle's breastplate sending the Officer recoiling back, not in pain but from the sheer kinetic energy imparted upon torso. Their spine hit the bulkhead with a 'clang' before steadily descending towards floor leaving a broad brush of sanguine blood against what was once white paint, a hacking chuckle leaves Kyle's lungs during the turbulent ascent up through Atmosphere, anchoring themselves to the floor with a single unyielding closed fist and no shortage of observers secured to the chair observe this impressive fear of strength from what in their eyes should have been a dying soldier.

Kyle would have found their musings humours for neither are they dying or a soldier, wounded? Absolutely, in need or medical attention? Less than the others aboard the shuttle for unlike the others Kyle's physiology is truly something unique and special. Primitive people might have looked upon Sergeant Whir's performance and concluded they'd be some demi-god forged in the fire of war, if nothing else their resilience spoke to the certainty of something unnatural. For not even force wielders resisted what should have been mortal injuries with such flippant ease. Haggard breaths wheeze through their annunciator in a metallic din. "Centaris!" Kyle called, and for once their cold intone carries a hint of desperation. "Are you still alive?" An amused smile could be heard, their broken and wildly flicking brass eyelenses search for the man both of them were covered in a disgusting fetid mixture of dark crimson blood and pale liquid ferrocrete.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Somewhere in the black mist between life and death, Alkor swam without his wits. Disjointed images of a burning city and faceless corpses danced around his mind as he washed about, far outside his own mind from the effects of powerful pain killers, meant to subdue the suffering of something far less human. It served to quell the extreme heat Alkor had ignited within himself, but left him with only his basest senses.

There was a ship, a man in white- some type of physician? Where was he going? Alkor tried to speak up, but the crack of gunfire silenced him. The behemoth soaked ammunition on their behalf almost like its body were built to ignore it anyway. When it spoke, it bid them take off. That was probably wise at this point. Alkor was unfit for combat, and no one here looked any better.

Not that he could tell.

More gore spilled from [member="Kyle Whir"] before they even hit atmosphere, and Alkor hacked up his own share of blood and phlegm. He leveled his gaze on the Death Trooper, managed a smirk, and wheezed.

He glanced backward and up from his position on the table as the Echani growled about several burns that would require the removal of armor plates, and strangely, tissue riddled with frostbite. How could someone both burn and freeze?

Chunks of the Phrikite-Desh alloy were torn away when two medics were finally able to get their tools under it without damaging the Dark Jedi's flesh- at least, not severely- to reveal a mangled, charred torso rife with indentations where Rhaegar had crushed the armor into his torso. If not for the armor, those icicles might have impaled vital organs and robbed him of life as well.

The armor was a small price to pay.

"Aye, I'm alive," he replied curtly. "Where are we bound? Coruscant? That's fine- I finished my job, I'll go quietly."

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Whir
Eshan System, Eshan Orbit
Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Their smirk did not cease rising in defiance of what should have been mortal injuries Kyle and the battered broken armour entombing physique and visage limps over towards the table which Centaris had made a perch for himself upon. Hazel Spheres wordlessly study the beautiful metallic chunks being peeled off Alkor's fair flesh, even through their helmet Kyle could smell the injury, it was the scent of burnt flesh and the armoured figure looming above Alkor gulps audibly the scene brought unpleasant memories of fire to the front of mind before they were swiftly suppressed down again. Kyle listened to Alkor's question in silence for a moment not expecting his acquiescence to Coruscanti Justice although it was welcome the old hunter within Sergeant Whir thought this prize would not only be undeserved but stolen, recalling that woman's words which left the Coruscant Security Officer with the impression that Alkor had already been seized and taken into Confederate custody. "This is an Echani Command shuttle, I have no idea where we are going, probably that aid camp set up by the Lotus. But I have questions if you will humour me, Centaris." Kyle's buttocks slumps lazily beside Alkor on the table which had been modified to serve as a makeshift gurney, one of the Doctors who had been attending the later wrinkled their facial expressions towards the giant who rudely now occupied their operating space.

"That woman." Kyle begins choosing their words with a care which is rather unusual for them, typically most perceived them to be gruff and authoritative indeed Darcath seemed to receive that impression quite accurately. The pause might have led Alkor's imagination to be taken with the idea that this hulking sinewy beast beside him had somehow been taken by attraction, it couldn't be further from the truth Kyle felt little attraction to any since their augmentation under Project: AFTERLIFE a side effect they had accepted with quiet dignity. "She gave me the impression you are the Confederacy's prisoner, I've seen a warrant issued by them for your arrest, it's part of why I confronted you." The pair of flickering brass tandem eye lenses wheel around staring upon Alkor's battered visage with a concealed leering glare. "Why I wonder then, did I witness you fighting alongside Confederate Troopers?" Kyle already suspected the answer, it was likely a warrant that had for some reason yet to be known rescinded without this being communicated in time to CORSECFOR prior to their contact. That, or more chillingly it was a clever forgery, either way, the man and woman who interrupted Kyle earlier on Eshan's surface wearing the distinct armour of Obsidian Knights did Sergeant Whir a favour. "Don't die before we get to wherever we're going, that's a lot of unnecessary paperwork and unwanted interviews." Jesting darkly left-hand connected to five pale slender fingers visible through tears in their glove's fabric gesture towards Alkor's injuries.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

The myriad smells that lingered in the ward choked Alkor as he hacked loudly and pain beat like a hammer in his ribcage. The news that they were not bound for Coruscant was welcome, but it only created more questions. Why the Confederacy simply chose to vouch for him on good faith, for instance. They stood to gain nothing from it. Were they gambling men?

"I entered Confederate custody of my own free will," he answered. "On the day of the initial attack on Eshan, I entered the city via dropshop several minutes prior to the firestorm." He remembered largely the damage, but also his own pain. That was the day he knew for certain that he was no longer Mandalorian.

"It didn't matter who they were," he added. "It still doesn't. It could have been the Republic taking action against them- the time had come, I couldn't back the decisions they were making anymore. My voice carried no more weight- so I had to speak with my actions."

Alkor glanced quietly at [member="Kyle Whir"] as the droids cleaned his surface wounds and applied salves to aid with tissue growth, as well as to fight infection. It beeped away in Bocce, various warnings against the removal of bandages and the danger of skin tearing. As it did so, smaller servitors began wrapping his torso and arms in cloth.

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Whir
Eshan System, Eshan Orbit
Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

Kyle listened to Centaris' answer in an eerie wordless silence their eye lenses flickering wildly what were usually two solid brass lights had become unpleasant strobes. "Sounds like you and I have something in common afterall." The Officer quips in their dour sensibility, droids cleaned Alkor's wounds and that charred stank of barbeque-seared pork wafts through the tiniest breaks in the armour of interlocking Duraplast and Durasteel plates that made up Kyle's helmet. Even in its' ruined damaged state, the annunciator continued to function and they yet refuse to remove their metallic visage even as their liquid crystal display ever flickered to and fro life with the spluttering of brass-coloured tandem helmet lenses. "It takes courage to leave behind everything you've ever known." Kyle's tone softened almost to kindness but never warming to remove the cold austere metallic chill that licked off their tongue, pushing off of the bed Kyle moved to assist the mechanical servitors with their movements, wrapping soft linen plies with deft agile care even as their armour is caked with coagulated blood and liquid. The statements Kyle made all but explicitly stated they'd been in a similar situation to Alkor at some point in their life, an idea most would have struggled to believe given their current status as an Officer for one of the oldest and most well-known Law Enforcement agencies in the entire galaxy and yet that is the exact conclusion one would be left to draw to the exclusion of nearly any other possibility to a mind unaffected by Madness.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

How many times had that been true for Alkor?

As a boy, leaving Corellia behind was never a choice. When he left Muunilnst, and again when he left Mandalore- had it taken courage, or was there something else that drove Alkor to constantly leave behind another life? There was always a drive, a desire to find something more, but he had never felt brave, or even afraid.

It was just something he had to do.

Perhaps that set him apart from others. The things most people had to convince themselves of came naturally. He felt a cool sensation as a gel layer was applied between his flesh and the wrappings, something to assist with the reintroduction of tissue and discomfort that came with it. Synthetic layers of fabric were affixed in specific areas to encourage bonding, but largely the tissue was to grow independently.

The vital readouts panned on a screen in front of Alkor, telling a dangerous tale- one he'd seen many times before. The body was not built to sustain such levels of brazen destructive power. Things had been set in motion that would have already killed most men. He was not indestructible.

Alkor tore his eyes away.

"Sometimes doing the right thing means taking a leap of faith," he said. It was hardly characteristic of Alkor Centaris, and yet, it was who was left when the pieces hit the ground.

[member="Kyle Whir"]

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyle Whir
Eshan System, Eshan Orbit
Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"]

"You're correct." Kyle breathed the words through their malfunctioning annunciator with a dull toll. "Use this opportunity Centaris to start doing the right thing with your life." Though Alkor couldn't see the Sergeant's smirk it was undoubtedly audible on their voice. "I was like you once." That admission cost them, whatever smile had been on their lips is long gone now, Kyle's hips turn in a sharp movement their Hazel eyes look over the wounded and weeping Citizens and their sadness itched at their gums, ignoring the scabbed laceration torn open by that abrupt motion now steadily gushing down onto the floor. Weakness disgusted them as did their own inward psychological and emotional frailty although these words needed to be spoken some forlorn hope had flickered to life like a brush fire and was steadily fed fuel by moments like this, Kyle's lifelong pessimism had been challenged by their new life having the opportunity to see the best and worst the galaxy had to offer through working as a Law Enforcement Officer. Offering no resistance when an Echani Physician started wrapping the Sergeant's torso in white linen, applying a harsh pressure the Superhuman warrior didn't even notice although for certain Kyle had noted their presence. "Lived life in ignorance, oblivious to the evil that was being committed around me every single day by those who I admired and looked upto." Kyle intoned sadly and turn their teary melancholic gaze towards the seated Alkor as the nurses and doctor fawn over his injuries. "You could forgive a blind man for being astonished by the myriad of beautiful colours we enjoy every day when they have been trapped in the dark for their entire life, it is a feeling well known to us both I suspect." Another solemn admission made in a cold tone that shook and threatened to collapse into sobbing, Kyle's thoughts drifting to blood-spattered memories and the twisted horrified faces of dead Citizens they'd seen taken from helmet camera footage taken at the Eridu Massacre. Before Alkor could capitalise on their sudden weakness Kyle buried it down under a long snarl, blood trickled through sinuses and began scabbing in an irritating stinging pain which did not help salve their sudden abrupt irritability.