Belsavis blues

[Jacen Voidstalker]

@Jacen Voidstalker [member=Abel] [member="Ayme Katash"] [member="Ruby Wilded"] [member="Avalore Eden"]

Jacen turned up to face Ruby through eyelids squeezed half shut. His teeth were gritted together. One hand stretched out and the air could be seen faintly shimmering above it.

“We…hadn’t…expected to…meet one…” he managed. He knew those words were true, could feel the toxin simmering away in his veins. It took every ounce of concentration to stay awake and keep that telekinetic tether on the young agricorps jedi.

“Get…Abel…” he sighed, looking in the direction his hand was reached out towards. He hadn’t the strength to pull him back up. Just enough to hold him precariously above the magma flow below. As soon as that weight was taken off him, he could turn his focus inside and try and slow the damage of the poison.

 

[Ruby Wilded]

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Abel"] [member="Ayme Katash"] [member="Avalore Eden"]

Ruby stared with an expressionless focus towards the man. Contemplating whether to grant his request. She could not only see the pain and desperation in his own, but feel it. He had a deep care for this Able person. "Very well".

Back to the precarious bridges edge above the river of lava. On the opposite side this time. Ruby could see the man was indeed alive. Held feet above the molten rock. Being cooked to death, but still alive. "Keep your hold on him until I say so". Ruby reached out with both hands. Through them she extended her will with The Force. The strain of lifting him was moderate, and slowly Able rose up higher to safety.

 

[Joy]

Abel’s body thudded onto the hard ground, smoke curling from the cooked flesh, small fires smoldering on his chest from where the fabric of his shirt had caught fire. A corpsman rushed over and patted them out, then gestured for [member="Ruby Wilded"] to step away.

“I’ll take it from here ma’am. Vincent! Gonna need a burn unit. Get me emergency evac, now.”

The Zabrak corpsman took out a canister and sprayed an expanding foam into the gaping wound in Abel’s stomach, temporarily sealing it closed. She doffed her backpack and extracted a collapsible hover gurney, which she quickly erected underneath the listless padawan.

Seconds later, she started pushing the floating gurney as fast as she could, exiting the temple and heading outside, where an evac shuttle was descending. The ramp lowered with a hiss of hydraulics and the Zabrak pushed her charge inside.

What followed were a tense twenty-four hours as first the emergency medical technicians, then the surgeons battled for Abel’s life. Toxins from the terentatek’s tusk coursed through his blood stream. He’d lost several buckets of blood, but worse, the toxins from the terentatek’s tusk coursed through his blood stream, corrupting his cells and slowly, but surely killing him. Eventualy the doctors decided to exsanguinate Abel and replace his blood with an artificial developed by Neuro-Saav.

That was the easy part.

Dozens of burns stretching across Abel’s body called for reconstructive surgery and sheets of synthetic tissue. Even then they weren’t sure he would be able to make it. Not with the extent of damage he’d taken. Many of the surgeons were astonished, stating quite simply that his burns should have been far worse, that close to the lava.

In the end, the farmhand pulled through, though not without giving his friends and caregivers several near-heart attacks.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Loske had messaged Abel before the chaos of Belsavis had turned from insane, to positively psychotic. The Vanguard fleet had been the primary opposition for her, and then the Coalition had posed a whole new threat. [member="Abel"] and her had promised they'd swap stories when they touched down, but for some reason, as soon as she'd pulled off her helmet back in the Alliance's temp hangar, she'd felt something was wrong.
Yes, her Starfighter was smoking and in dire need of attention from its exhaustive stretch in the skies, but something more. Something indirect.

She'd sent a message to Abel, suggesting they rendezvous somewhere convenient. Unusually, he didn't reply straightaway. Typically, she might think that he was busy with Jedi business, training or whatnot, perhaps finally learning how to wield a lightsabre - but the lack of reply combined with her aching belly suggested otherwise.

Feet guided more by intuition than knowledge, she ended up wandering to the medical set up. Discomfort crept over her skin, like a prickling film that raised goosebumps from the tanned sands of epidermis.

"Can I help you?" Someone interrupted, apparent that the pilot was quite out of place and as usual, confused. A female keshiri was wiping her hands with a towel, resting it against her hip while waiting for Loske to answer. She was clad in scrubs, and Loske blinked several times before adjusting appropriately to respond.

"Yes, I..I'm..here to see a friend?"

"You are? Which friend, honey."

Why did she say that? How did she know she was here to see a friend? Maybe he wasn't here. After all, she had no real reason, other than her gut, to believe he was here. But it was as if she could feel the portly Padawan nearby. "Abel?"

"Last name?"

"I..don't really know. He's a Jedi - was part of the ground crew for Belsavis."

The lavender features of the nurse twisted in judgement, strange friends wouldn't know each other's last names. "Let me check for you." The medical centre was, inevitably after the events, quite busy. Throwing a name around and expecting entry simply wasn't going to fly. The woman's purple face reflected the slight touch of blue as she scrolled through the system "-Ah, yes. He's just resting now -- down the hall, fourth door on the left. Out of surgery."

"Surgery?!"

"Yes, he's scheduled for some nutrition. Here - you can bring this to him if you like." She bent over, and produced a tray full of bags and liquids mostly, handing it over to Loske's apprehensive hands.

"Eugh. This looks gross - don't you think he's suffered enou.." the silence, and lack of an appreciative laugh made Loske turn on her heel "Sounds good - I'll do that. Thanks!" Eager to leave the awkward situation, the blonde followed the nurse's direction down the hall to the fourth door on the left. With a press, the compression door opened into the room of her Jedi pal.

In a muted undertone, in case he was sleeping, the teen spoke up: "Abel?"

 

[Joy]

"Mmm?"

Honest blue eyes blinked awake and turned toward the door. They crinkled at the corners in a smile, mirrored by the one on his broken lips - the only part of Abel's face that was visible. The rest looked a grim, mummified visage of gauze and bandaging. The normally poofy sandy-brown curls atop his head were cut short. But for the eyes, and that smile, one might not even know it was Abel.

"Loske!" he rasped, beaming as much as someone's who has been impaled and dropped into lava can beam. "I'd been hoping you'd visit. I was worried..."

Beneath the bandages, remnants of ruined skin would have blushed.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

It took the pilot a couple of cautious steps, and a peer around the curtain to associate the voice with the bandaged sprawl tucked beneath the covers. It was the lump of a human, where the curves and dips would be, and the voice of her friend, but it was not the same pleasant presentation she was used to.

Her grip on the tray tightened, to balance out the potential for an apprehensive squeak from her bodice. The sound hardly audibly emitted though, and the energy that would have gone into it transferred instead to the whiteness of her fingertips as she set the minced food down on a table that perched closely to Abel’s bedside and she eased herself to stand near him, awkwardly. Unconsciously holding her breath. The pause in the inhale exhale routine was likely a result from the combined observation of horror, pity, and pure….sadness.

And yet, here he was. Wrapped up in bed like a blistering mummy and concerned about her. Meanwhile, she’d been butthurt about a two week suspension following Belsavis’ activity. Her priorities were pathetic, and she attributed his selflessness to his rightful title as a Jedi.

She exhaled softly and eased into a smile, leaning on the edge of the mattress. [member="Abel"] was probably her dearest friend in the Alliance - getting blown up on the first job together’ll do that to you. Of course she’d come visit him!

“I’ve got two weeks to kill, may as well see the toughest Jedi I know.

Or, kind of know.

Checking in was a bit of a hassle, I don’t know your last name..” she admitted with brutal, sheepish honesty. Before she’d come to see him, she resolved that the first thing she asked would not be about how he was. He was probably sick of hearing about it.

 

[Joy]

Abel's eyes drifted down to her white-knuckled grip. A tremor of hurt wracked his heart, but he tried to be strong. He had to be strong. Abel knew what he looked like, all burnt up and gored. He remembered first looking in a mirror and the sudden nausea and disbelief that came with a glimpse of his own bandaged features. Can't rightly blame her. I do look a sorry sight.

No, he could never blame Loske. She was just doing her best. And that was really all that could be asked of anyone.

"My last name is Groves, not that I've had cause to use it. The Jedi don't really emphasize family connections," his eyes crinkled in a smile again. "Matson, right?"

He saw the plate of food and licked his lips. His stomach gurgled too. "Sorry, been a while since I ate. They said-..." Abel paused, and almost reflexively looked down at the blanket covering his stomach. "Well I'm not supposed to eat a lot anyway."

They'd said the tusk had stuck me like a pig is what they said. Right through my intestines, jumbling 'em all up. The toxic venom lacing the tusk only made it worse too. From now on, eating would be a big, painful hassle. Digestion would never be the same. The doctor's had repaired what they could but... well there was only so much they could do. Still, he was alive. And that was something. And Loske had come to visit him! Life weren't so bad as all that, he'd just have to keep looking on the bright side o' things.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"Abel Groves." Loske repeated, stuffing it into her memory where the titles rightly belonged. She added a perky compliment to the end, ponytail swaying as she did; "Got a nice ring to it."

When he repeated her own last name, she afforded a nod. A last name that nobody else in the galaxy seemed to share. She'd make a right good Jedi what with the no family connections and all that. (Fact. The donors for her creation made it impossible for Loske not to be a good Force User. It was up to her own discovery, however, after they determined the lack of association between memories and powers was damaging). It was strange though, that [member="Abel"] suggested there'd be no use for last names amongst the Order. It was rare that Masters were referred by their first name in the stories she'd heard. It was always Master Eden, Rekali, etcetera.

"Master Groves has a ring to it too, eh? You've gotta get some kinda medal for all this." The girl suggested, following the drift of his eyes to his stomach. Most of the food that was on the tray she'd brought was not solid. That, she supposed, would be why.

With a slight wince, she realized mobility may not be Abel's forté right now. When the motions for feeding themselves were so repetitive, one often took them for granted. "Yeah..." She started, looking toward the tray and slowly becoming more and more aware of the distant charred scent that lingered about the poor Padawan. "I don't suppose you would.. You need help with it?" The suggestion wasn't meant to simply his inability- it rose from the fact that if she were in his position she'd demand anyone do whatever possible to keep her appetite satiated. "What happened to you anyway?" There was a heartbeat of silence before she followed up with an explanation- one would suppose that since she was visiting him here, she had to have known he was here; and likely would have a why associated with the where and how.

"I had no idea something's happened, just kind of... had this nauseous feeling you weren't okay." And that he was here. In this medical facility.

 

[Joy]

"Well thanks for comin' to see me. I get that feeling too, when friends are in danger. The Force works in mysterious ways, they say." He said, glossing over her mention of medals.

Truth was, he didn't deserve no medals. By rights, he'd gotten what he deserved, charging onto the bridge like that. What was he thinking? He should've waited for the others. But... he couldn't let those soldiers die. He'd done what seemed best at the time. Maybe that was all anybody could do. Still, didn't deserve any sort of commendations. Just doing his part, same as everyone else. It was them what died that deserved the medals. They gave their all.

As for mastery, well, Abel was so far from any sorta mastery of anything that he didn't even bother thinkin' on it.

He frowned, or tried to anyway. "Say, you ever think you might have the Force? You're a great pilot, I've heard. And I think you felt it when they- to the-"

The what? The slaves dying in a horrific series of fireballs set off by the First Order? No escape. Trapped up in pens like animals until the flames consumed 'em. Abel almost shuddered at the memory.

"-what happened on Karfeddion. Premonitions and the like, strong reactions to death. That's the Force, I bet."

A tinge of excitement flared in his blue-yonder eyes.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

"You've heard I'm a great pilot?" Loske asked, self interest peaking her attention and her chest puffed slightly while her back straightened. "Where'dja hear that?" As soon as the question left her lips, she scolded herself. Abel would never reach out to fan his ego like that. Darn be it, his mere presence was going to squeeze the niceness right out of her and she'd do her darndest to replicate his genuine wonderfulness. A wince broadcasted her apology.

Loske tucked her smile together into a pleasant suffocation of a sort of off-handed laugh at [member="Abel"]'s suggestion. The little guy was so pure. Charred, burnt to a crisp, peeling but pure.

"I was throwing up, Abel. I doubt that has anything to do with the majesties of The Force." It would be hard to do anything other than vomit, with that many people around, dying in all sorts of wicked fashions. With her wayward glance, she shifted her weight from cheek to cheek against the mattress; palms pressed politely in her lap. Imagine though, she a Jedi. A type of glee twinkled in her own eyes, before she looked toward her friend and noticed an excited expression, sort of, peeking through the bandages.

"But hey.." this was probably as close to a giggling sleepover filled with gossip they'd ever get. "Say I was one with The Force - How do you find out you're a Jedi anyway? How did you find out?"

 

[Joy]

Abel thought about that for a second as he reached forward and picked up the fruit cup and a fork from the plate. He peeled back the lid and stared at the contents.

"Well, usually a Jedi Master comes along and they can just tell. You can sense it. The more trained n' powerful the person is, the easier they are to spot. Kinda like how you need good eyes to spot a candle far away in the dark, but just about anybody can see a bonfire."

Spearing a piece of pineapple with the fork, Abel put it in his mouth and chewed, expression still earnestly contemplative beneath the gauze.

"But for me they took a blood test, if you got a certain number of midichlorians you can be trained. I had enough. Maybe you might too. And I think strong reactions to violence is actually a pretty decent indicator. Plenty of sensitives get that sort of reaction when somethin' really bad happens. I was coughing up my lunch a bit too. Some spit up doesn't mean it ain't majestical. People call the ocean that, but you can still smell rotten fish some times. Don't mean it isn't beautiful. Just gotta appreciate the upsides with the down. Same with the Force."

More of the fruit cups contents disappeared.

"Lots of Jedis are pilots too. Got those super fast reflexes. Can't be certain, course. Gotta do the blood test, or get a Jedi Master involved. All depends on if you want to find out or not..."

He trailed off, head cocking slightly. Did he just give her hope about joining the Order only to have it smushed later? He really hoped not. Maybe she didn't like the Jedi. Plenty o' people felt that way. Abel could see why but, well, Jedi for the most part were all really decent folk. And Loske was decent folk. Made sense she'd be a good Jedi.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

[member="Abel"] chewed and Loske contemplated. She’d never had such thoughts delivered to her, and she shifted on the edge of the mattress, absently taking the liquid coated lid of the fruit cup from the tray and dropping it in the trash compactor at the foot of the bed. The inside of her cheek was being gnawed on while fruit was being chomped.

Still in a thinking state, she made use of the straw on the tray and injected it to the juice tube.

“Always thought it’d be more magical than that, considering all the magic you Force folk can do.” She smiled, brows pulling upward together. “I’ll keep it somewhat magical.

Speaking of magic, what’s your favourite force trick since your blood test? I bet you don’t even have to use that fork.”

 

[Joy]

Abel's hands lowered, eyes widening. He glanced down at the fork. "Use it? Well, no I don't have to use the fork..."

He chewed on the inside of his lip for a moment. "The Jedi are pretty serious about not treatin' the Force all flippant."

Seemed kind of a let down, him talkin' all that about bein' a Jedi and then not even showing what they could do. Maybe she didn't get to see a lot of the Force. Made sense, he doubted she'd ever been inside the Sullust enclave.

A sidelong gaze at her as she sat there on the corner of the bed, blonde hair all pretty n' such, big blue eyes looking on expectantly, was enough to convince him.

"But, I guess it couldn't hurt."

Hesitantly at first, Abel reached out into the Force, willing the empty fruit cup to move. He gained confidence as it wobbled off the bed, floating to eye level. Pushing gently, the cup hovered over to the trash compactor and dropped inside.

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

There were a lot of rules involved with being a Jedi. No last names, the no attachment one she'd heard of, and then not to abuse the power? Whatever happened to you got it, flaunt it? These Jedi were supposed to be the vanguards of protection, the first to rise to the fight and they were governed so strictly. Her lips twisted slightly as the mused internally about the whole mess of things. She supposed though, that the majority of Jedi were pretty good people; so perhaps the rules were a good stretch of guidelines to adhere to. After all, Jedi were pinnacles of purity and whatnot - that's a weight difficult to bear without any sort of governance.

By the time Abel acquiesced, Loske determined rules were for the good guys.

Abel's display was, by a Force user's perspective, likely not that impressive. But to Loske, who hadn't really ever seen The Force in action, save for the levitation that the droidmaker Talith had used, it was pretty neat. Especially since the moment he started to use it, she got a single of something prickling along her skin.

How was [member="Abel"] doing that? Such a perceivably simple task, levitating.

"Are you thinking about where you want that to go? And then, with your minds-eye, it ends up there? What else can you do?"

Satisfied with a simple demonstration, she was not. Hands folded in her lap, her goofy grin had found its way back to her rosy lips and she supposed this was as good a distraction as needed. He didn't seem in pain, and talking about being a Jedi should be exciting enough for anybody!

"If you think about anything, can you make it happen? Like..if you trained a lot more." She set a palm down on the bed, near the boy's leg...although careful not to touch it in case it shared the same peeling issues as his face "Could you eventually think of your farm back home and teleport back there?"

 

[Joy]

"Uuuuh, no?" was she joking? Oh wait, she didn't really know all that much about the Force. Well, he didn't either, not really. "Least I don't think so. I've never heard about teleporting Jedi before. There's some rock aliens that do it, but they're way out in the middle of nowhere and nobody is really sure how it works. Would be pretty cool though."

He smiled at the thought of being able to just think of a location and fwoosh go wherever he wanted. "The Force makes the impossible possible, that's what the Masters tell me. I guess it's more of a question of how rather than can or can't. But I'm gettin' pretty good with absorbing radiant energy. Just so I won't burn my hand too bad if I put it in a fire or something like that... but some of the Masters can even use it to catch lightsabers with their bare hands!"

The padawan demonstrated with one hand while he spoke, grabbing an imaginary lightsaber blade in the air.

Abel wished he could do that. Maybe then he wouldn't have to hurt Sith, like he'd had to in the bunker. Deep down, he knew that they must all be hurting from something in their past. If he just could stall them long enough to talk to 'em, to try and get them to listen, maybe he'd be able to help them. Killing just brought more killing. There had to be another way...

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

".....Rock aliens? Can they be found? Imagine being able to do that! Heck, Abel, it's your very name." She grinned hugely, reaching out to squeeze his knee and immediately clenching her arm millimeters from impact. She made a fist instead - some sort of physical outlet to squeal out her excitement. The problem with Loske was, that everything new was spectacular. The nectar of information was only to whet her appetite. While someone her age should have been more exposed to the realities and nuances of the Galaxy; Loske's learning curve was much steeper. The root of her encouragement came mostly from impossible naïvety of an adolescent - especially for a teen who was a supposed ace in the skies. Perhaps that's why persons were equally unreserved around her. She had a child's purity, but the façade of someone who could comprehend the trials of responsibility.

A cruel farce for both the blonde and those that put their trust in her.

The gesture from [member="Abel"] spurred a visual cue that made a connection suggesting Loske had seen that before. (False. Her maternal donor was one of the Jedi who could absorb the energy from a saber crystal. The memory was infused.)

"I've seen that before!" The girl echoed her thoughts excitedly, crossing both legs on the bed and facing both palms toward him with her unburstable bubble of enthusiasm curling her fingers in and out. “You’re on your way to doing that? Wow Master Groves, that’s quite a marvel. You’re going to have a statue in your name in no time!”

 

[Joy]

Red suffused the little of Abel's face that could be seen beneath the bandages.

"O-oh," he stuttered. A statue? The shy padawan didn't really want a statue of himself. Weren't no more deserving of that than anyone else. Lots of better people could have a statue, like Master Voidstalker. There was a real warrior, the sort people could look up to and cheer. Abel? Abel was just a gardner with super powers. Couldn't even swing a lightsaber proper.

Glancing down, he noticed she'd almost grabbed his knee. Was that right? Seemed like she was afraid to touch him, or maybe scared she might hurt him? For some reason he couldn't quite fathom, that made him grow even redder. Groping for words like a man in the dark searching for a candle, Abel managed to stumble out a few sentences. "Well, uhm, it isn't all that special. Lots of things cooler than that, like your flyin'. The way they talk you fly circles around the TIEs up there. You must have a whole drawer full of medals by now."

[member="Loske Matson"]

 

[Loske Treicolt]

It was set in her mind, now, that she’d do what she can as soon as [member="Abel"] was ready to be released, that she would fly him home for a visit. Or at least some planet with rich soils and stuff that he would relish. He deserved it after all, pitching himself into lava and whatnot.

He then suggested she had a handful of rewards of her own, and she was quite proud that she was on the tongues of others for her skills. She should be. She was literally made for this. She chortled, shaking her head slightly and rising with a stretch. Footsteps moved her about the room and she investigated equipment here and there, considering his statement. “You don’t get medals for doing your job. That’s all we Rogues are doing, our job.

But hey,” she turned to face him, at the end of the bed and pressing her thighs against the edge of the mattress as her hands fell on her hips with a shrug and grin combo “-if you ever need a driver for anything, I’ll always do blue milk runs for a friend.”

That was it. She had an addition to adrenaline. Blue Milk runs for anything else? Not a chance.

 

[Joy]

Abel smiled.

"Thanks, Loske."

Her words made him thoughtful, maybe just 'doing the job' was all anyone ever did in the end, even the bad guys. All those storm troopers couldn't really be evil, right? Maybe confused, but they thought they were fighting for the right thing. Even if the right thing was the next paycheck, could be a paycheck that was sent back to feed their families.

Not to say there weren't any monsters out there. That thing on Belsavis... that'd been a monster and it'd torn him up real good. He tried not to think about life going forward, but it was hard.

"Well, they tell me that I shouldn't stay up too long. Especially after I eat. But, uhm, you should really check out the Jedi Enclave on Sullust. I think you'd like it."

[member="Loske Matson"]