Can't Take the Sky From Me | ORC Dominion of Pamarthe Hex

[Coren Starchaser]

The Coalition had been in talks with the world of Pamarthe for months now. With the boundaries of the Outer Rim reaching out to the world known for pilots, the Coalition was calling in a favor. After their defeat at Pantora, the Coalition had retreated to the world, using it as a place to settle for a few days until they could better rearm, refit, and assess their losses.

Ships, large and small, were arriving in the system and calling in for aid. Pamarthe ships are greeting the refugees. Tugs and hospital vessels are on site to provide aid and ensure that the Coalition ships are brought to the proper facilities for repairs. But not every every ship was coming in safely. The Sith had created quite a disaster at Pantora, and ships were arriving under dire circumstances, with several having uncontrolled disasters in orbit.

One ship, unseen from its awkward re-entry, was plummeting to the planet. Mistaken for sensor interference by tracking instruments, the transport was in an uncontrolled descent, crashing on one of the more remote islands.

But not all on Pamarthe was a disaster. The Annual Island Hopper Regatta was occuring, and the course was laid out, the week long race already a day or so in. Watercraft from different classes, relying on solar, wind, or engine power, were moving through their courses, vying for position in the near-land paths before striking out into the next leg, which had the vessels going over the open sea, with different wind and water conditions presenting challenges compared to the near-shore areas. Of course, these were all portrayed for the ones who couldn’t race, in the various cantinas, where Port-in-the-Storms were being served while wagers were being placed for those watching the holo coverage of the race.


Coren Starchaser was being moved from the Spear to one of the Pamarthe vessels. Members of certain teams fared worse than members of his team, and he knew he had to meet them at the hospital. He was hoping his next trip, this trip, to Pamarthe was not going to be a result of a war, he’d much love to show Pamarthe how a Corellian handled a water craft, but his job called. The General was healing through the Force, thanks to [member="Celeste Rigel"]’s pendant, but he wanted to check on the members of the Alliance and Coalition forces. And that meant a military hospital.

Objective:

• Following the Defeat at Pantora, the Coalition Forces have retreated, with many finding their way to the world of Pamarthe. Assist the Pamarthen government with aiding refugees from Pantora and their wounded Coalition allies.
• One of the ships from the Coalition didn’t make it out as unscathed as they had hoped. Following a difficult reversion to real space, your transport has crashed on a deserted island. Work together to re-establish communications, or defend yourself from others who crashed. And to make matters worse there is a gargantuan, aggressive Parmarthen lion who has already claimed this island as its territory.
• Pamarthen wildlife are getting out of hand, freelancers can find profit in taking care of the more obtrusive local fauna.
• And in the spirit of Pamarthe, there is currently a sailing race, the world will use the arrival of the Coalition as a new obstacle for the racers

Spoiler

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

Objective: Sailboat Race!

She had been aware, in passing, of Pantora. The Warden of the Sky was not trying to be callous, but there was only so much she could do. Her small mining vessels, and her personal little freighter could only solve so many issues. And it meant she had to wait for everything to clear. But even Wardens deserved a little break every once in a while.

Right? Right [member="Runi Verin"]? Right?

It was good for her though, she was on the world of Pamarthe, the race had begun the day before and she was actually enjoying it. A daughter of Corellia, her family hadn’t always been space faring, at least how the family datacron described it. They had cut their teeth, and navigation chops on a sailing vessels on Corellia’s oceans long before they had ever taken to the stars. Skills they had learned translated, and well, it was a thing that her mother had taken her and Jared to the Starchaser homeworld, even with her father being missing.

She worked on her nautical skills, knot tying, and navigation. When she arrived here on Pamarthe, she signed herself up on a ship, and was being tasked with a few different jobs. Rotating crew, but now she was cleaning up lines.

“It’s a nice day, whats our next hurdle?” She asked.

“We’ll be moving away from the near shore and out to the Crossing, ever done that, Corellian?” The Mate, a Pamarthen woman gave a grin.

Spoiler

 

[Celeste Rigel]

Celeste knew he was safe, but that didn't stop her from fretfully wringing her hands. The very thought of [member="Coren Starchaser"] off fighting was enough to make the worry rise within. The healer walked the halls of her hospital ship, the Comfort. She'd made hasty preparations as soon as she'd heard that the Outer Rim Coalition was re-grouping on Pamarthe. Needless to say, she was ready and willing to lend assistance in the form of force healing and aid supplies courtesy of the Silver Circle.

Pausing, she stared out the viewport as their ship came out of hyperspace.

She watched as the blur of stars slowed and the planet became visible in the distance. Clutching the front of her white robes, she hoped that casualties were low. Another pang of nerves.

He's safe.

Continuing on her way, she stepped onto the bridge – and was soon joined by fellow healers of the Silver Circle. Moving to a console, she dialed Coren's frequency.

“Coren – it's me,” She said. There was much more that she wanted to say, but she kept it decidedly brief. “The Silver Circle is here to help, we'll touch down shortly. See you soon.”

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective 1: Refugees
Location: Pantora -> Pamarthe
Allies: ORC

Refugee relocation was nothing new to Cathul, to Therapy Command, which was one of the main remaining units of the ORC. The Sith may have won on Pantora, but their victory was rather Pyrrhic: it took almost every meter of Sith fleet to achieve some measure of planet-side destruction. Fortunately, the enemy didn't seem to hit the medvac units still available, so she have the hospital ships on ferry duty. Of course, she couldn't have hospital ships unescorted since she knew pirates could target medvac units, over either Pantora or Pamarthe. Once the surviving units of Therapy Command were ready to hit hyperspace to their safe haven called Pamarthe, then Cathul could start getting to work on one of those patients in a surgical ward. Yes, Force-healing made the healing process faster, but even medvac personnel (to say nothing of gunners or engineering personnel) seemed not to understand that even the use of the Force did not dispense her from taking hygiene and other recovery precautions. So the need to immobilized a broken limb was crucial before she could even think of growing the broken bone back.

 

[Elani Demaris]

Here Be Dragons,​

The Pamarthen Wilderness​

​

[member="Elias Logain"]​

The acrid scent of death was practically palpable here. A sickeningly sweet, saccharine scent that not even the harshest of coastal breezes seemed capable of disturbing. Not too surprising given that the clearing was strewn with the tattered, gutted and dismembered remains of one of the fiercest natural predators the planet had to offer. A Pamarthen Lion. This one had not been fierce enough, it seemed. Though with an assault this vicious, this ruthless and unforgiving, it was hard to see how any predator could remain at the apex for any long.

And to Thorn’s cold, calculating golden eyes, that in itself was a fact that didn’t make sense. A fight between rival apex predators was often a brutal and bloody affair, but there was a sense of purpose behind the attack. The undeniable, inescapable motivation of the apex predator; one king supplanting the next and claiming the kingdom for its own. This on the other hand… Carnage such this could only have been motivated by the unbridled anger and a relentless hatred that dwelt in the mind of creatures far beyond the likes of the local fauna.

Much like the dark ichor that was splattered intermittently amongst the gruesome piles. Enough to draw the eye, but clearly not to have changed the odds in favor of the poor lion. It might not have died well, but it had died fighting. Sacrificing itself to buy her an all important clue to the identity of its attacker. In that, the creature had earned her gratitude. Not that it stopped her from stepping almost dismissively through the minefield of bloodshed and gore, transitioning from one side of the clearing to the next in search of the most promising lead. Pausing only to take a knee when she found what seemed to be the most unspoiled pool of the blackened, brackish liquid.

Definitely not from the local fare she had been originally contracted to cull. That alone enough to cause a flicker of anticipation to worm its way into her heart, eliciting a rough approximation of a smile that could only be called that in name alone. It seemed this little world might prove to be more of a challenge than originally thought.

“Akisi wa, akisi wa, akisi wa. Wisa tita tuti autorius ir kraujas.” She intoned softly to herself as she dipped a hand into the foul blood, bringing the substance up to meet her lips and tongue in an almost ritual manner. The illusion instantly spoiled when she abruptly jerked her head to the side, spitting the offending liquid from her mouth. Bitter. Acrid. Chock full of the familiar taint she had come to associate with the foul machinations of sith magic. Interesting. It seemed in the rush to get away from the Empire's onslaught, the transports from Pantora had brought more than simple refugees along for the ride. “Hikbiriytui.”

Yes, this was definitely a challenge worth an excursion from her contract.

After all, one didn't get a chance to test themselves against the likes of the Empire's vaunted Sithspawn everyday.

 

[Zef Halo]

Here Be Dragons,​

Pamarthen Wilderness​

​

[member="Thorn"]​

​

Elias stared at the mangled body of a humanoid, one of the many 'monster hunters' who had tried their luck with the planet-wide contract of culling the numbers of the apex predator - the Pamarthean Lion. The money was too good for many ignorant fools who thought a blaster is all they needed in hunting the beast. He would've easily waved away the corpse as a prey to the lion's hunt had he not inspected it closer.

Guts hung loose from the poor mercenary and unnaturally large and deep crevices covered his body. The blood had clotted but the body was not completely cold, yet. Poison, he thought. A careful gloved finger ran across one of the crevices of a wound forming a frown on Elias' face. No claw or a fang of a Pamarthean Lion could do that, despite the remains of lion fur lying on the corpse.

He followed the trail of blood with his eyes leading into a thicket crushed under the weight of something big. Elias moved to follow it carrying a finger through the trail of blood which led him into a path recently trailed by something being dragged through it. He noticed hair of the fur of the lion mixed with the blood.

What was the hunter and what was the prey? The question puzzled him. Elias picked a potion from the inside pocket of his long coat and drank it bottoms up. The acidic taste still bothered him, even after such long and continuous use of the potion he never seemed to get used to the disgusting taste. It near momentarily enhanced his senses. Colors and sounds grew substantially richer than before, senses dulled by his human genes were unlocked giving him a completely new perception of everything around him. His eyes made out the previously unnoticed difference of blood color on the trail he followed. One was just slightly brighter than the other.

"nipe macho ya shida, ushahidi wa kumbukumbu." he grumbled the words of a spell. Images flashed through his mind making no sense at all until a maw of darkness opened to devour him and Elias' eyes snapped open with sweat breaking over his brow.

Sith Magic.

Far worse than any Pamarthean Lion.

Too focused in following the trail and trying to unravel the mystery, Elias popped out of the thicket to a small clearing where the massacred body of a what barely looked like a Pamarthean Lion lied on the floor and a woman of dark aura crouching beside it. The sight startled him for a moment and he reached for the hilt of his force-imbued blade sheathed on the back of his waist.

"Who are you?" he asked tonelessly, his eyes locked at the woman.

 

[Miri O'Hare]

"Ready boys?" she shouted from the controls of her vessel. A gust of warm, salty wind tugged at her hair and clothes reminding her yet again that summer was coming to Pamarthe. At least, this part of the planet. And with summer brought the races, at least the big name ones. The crew of Pamarthens and crew droids shouted in response to her question as she flipped a switch on her board and watched as the men below tugged on a cable, expanding the ship's large solar sail.

"The mate was drunk and he went below to take a swig at his bottle o'!"

"So early in the morning, the sailor likes his bottle o'!"

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=TI6hOTWVAU0&list=RDQapvJeWiHwo&index=9​

​

The waves crashed against their ship as the sail caught wind and solar energy, sending power to the thrusters below decks. Sea foam splashed onto the wooden deck as they climbed over a particularly large wave. The sound of the shanty and the waves and the wind in her hair reminded her of why she came home, and just like every time she came home she wondered why she didn't stay. Moving freight and supplies for the Alliance was good money and wasn't nearly as physically demanding as racing, but her love of all things fast and her affliction meant no races would take her...Except the boat races of Pamarthe, like the one she and her crew were warming up for today.

"Oi Cap'n! Skyward! Wot is that?"

Miri shielded her eyes from the sun and looked up to see several ships dropping out of hyperspace. They looked like they were limping bad, but they didn't look like the dagger shaped vessels of the Sith Empire or First Order and they didn't have the strangely alien design of those raptor folks which left only one option this far out in the Rim.

"Coalition?" One of the crew echoed her thoughts. Miri looked at the woman and shrugged. As long as the ships didn't fall right in the water they'd be fine. But maybe they'd warmed up enough. The race was starting soon anyways and she didn't wanna get caught out here if they did start falling.

"Let's head back to land! Race is startin' soon anyway," she shouted over the creaking boat and roaring sea.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The Jedi Master made his way down to the planet, and the call had been out to the Silver Jedi Order. They were much more varied in their approach to the Force than the local Covenant of Jedi, or even the Judges. The Coalition Forcers found interested ways to survive. Combat, or exotic powers. Starchaser could teleport, and do enough healing for himself, but his real skill was focused in boosting his troops’ morale, blasting the dark side with the Light of the Force, and navigating any ship through some pretty difficult space.

What he couldn’t do was provide a strong healing for the men and women who fought alongside him.

As he arrived at the hospital, he had heard the call. The Silvers received word that the call for help had been sounded, mostly through the Jedi channels, but an official one did follow by Coalition standards. Hearing the call come from Celeste, he grabbed it. Seeing her always felt good.

“Good. I’m fine, but some of my own aren’t. Can use some help, feeding you the hospitals we’re going to, and where I’ll be.”

He signed off and slumped into he seat of the airspeeder with a sigh.

Some day these wars were going to end.

[member="Celeste Rigel"]

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

Open water. That was going to be good. The Corellian had been used to open sea sails, her father insisted on it. So did her aunt, and uncle, and the others on the Dawn Treader. Starchasers were wanderers, they were most at home when they were far from land and port. She was looking forward to this part.

“This is what I’m here for, can’t really call it sailing if you see land, can ya?” She grinned as she grabbed the next line to make sure they could tack as the helmsmen was calling out. Putting a foot down and giving the rope a tug, the smallest Starchaser was really in part of her element here. She heard the music, a bit more ragged on its rhythm, with a string bass and some horns. Felt right for being on the water.

As she leaned towards the rail of the vessel, she was ducking as the boom came under. Being lighter, she was the one who was on this side, to not overweight the vessel.

And that was when she heard the chattering. Other parts of the crew were pointing skyward. And that was when she felt him, her father.

Something went wrong.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective 1: Refugees
Location: Pamarthe
Allies: ORC

"All medvac units, it's essential to avoid wasting time planetside upon arrival"

This meant a sterile cast had to be put in place before she could even think of Force-splints around which to grow back the broken bones. And also local, Force-induced anaesthesia, too. Only once the broken limb was in a cast and numbed could she even actually get started mending it back. Even then, the patient needed to be, well, patient. Just because it saved the cost of medical supplies and equipment, didn't mean the process would be near-instant. Sure, most of the patients would have burns, broken bones and other traumas, but the longest patient took over seven hours to cure a metastatic, terminal-stage cancer. Now that the process of mending it back was underway, she had to focus totally on the patient's broken bone as it mended, to make sure the necessary blood vessels would, in fact, be grown back alongside the bone itself. Because the fracture also caused some blood vessels to rupture, too, causing an internal hemorrage that also needed to be stopped. And then any notion of blood transfusion would become feasible, but only after the bones were mended back together.

 

[Celeste Rigel]

As she received the response from [member="Coren Starchaser"], she felt relief wash over her. Just seeing his image etched in blue light was enough for the moment, and it would be all the better to see him in person. She glanced over to the bridge crew of the Comfort, they gave her a nod to indicate that the coordinates had been received.

Celeste gave a small smile before disconnecting the call.

There were preparations to make. As she made her way back down the corridors, she found fellow healer Lila Arrel giving their patient quarters a last check. Everything seemed to be in order. And, once the ship touched down, their team of medical professionals was quick to move. As soon as the ramp lowered, there were medics on the ground to begin triage.

The Comfort, a hospital ship, was well equipped to handle the situation, alongside the hospitals already in place planetside. Celeste grabbed her medic backpack and set it on her shoulders before making for the ramp herself. As she looked out, she could see that there were many waiting to be patched up. And, her eyes searched for Coren – her presence stretched to reach him, too. But there was work to be done here.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

Hearing Celeste’s voice was the best sound he’d heard in a few days. When it came to war, he wanted to keep her and her son away from it, but that meant bringing the war to him, or fighting harder so the dark side kept away. The Jedi Master was making his way to the hospital and could feel the shift in the airspeeders velocity and path. They were arriving.

As he stepped out of the vessel, he looked around. There were a lot of wounded here. But he was already expanding his focus out, trying to help imrpvoe their hope and thoughts. He couldn’t visit everyone but he could reach out to the rest through the Force. And he felt Celeste fairly fast.

The man was stepping between tables, seeing the barely wounded that were out here, knowing they would be checked later, but they were all a part of the effort. The Coalition had a lot of plucky soldiers, and they all jumped into the fray to defend their world. Coming to Pamarthe, the world was here to help the Coalition. But while he was stepping between the beds, he noticed Celeste, and approached her slowly.

“Thanks for the backup.” He said, as he gave her a back a rub, before taking a second to lean in to kiss her cheek.

[member="Celeste Rigel"]

 

[Zak Amroth]

TRANSPORT CRASH SITE​

UNCHARTED ISLAND, PAMARTHE​

[member="Yula Perl"]​

​

"Oh good, you're awake," the zeltron opened her eyes to find her 'mentor' leaning over her, "Congratulations, you've been rescued!"

A few dozen meters away the fuselage of their wrecked transport was still burning brightly. Zak was shirtless already, chest gleaming with the exertion first of hauling Yula to safety and then constructing a dilapidated shelter which barely even provided enough shade from the unrelenting equatorial heat of an oppressive sun. He hadn't been on Pantora, but to his merit when word reached him he caught the next ship offworld. Arriving just in time to provide an escape for her and some others, they hadn't quite stuck the landing.

"Not sure if anyone else made it out."

He handed her a mostly empty canteen. They were almost out of freshwater, that was going to be a problem. So far Zak had seen virtually no signs of civilization, that was another problem. Their emergency transponder beacon was still somewhere in the crackling wreck, that was the biggest problem of all. His comlink was spitting out nothing but static. As far as he knew the two of them were the only ones alive on this island. Well, almost everyone...

Another roar echoed further inland, driving a flock of local birds from the trees for kilometers in every direction.

"And then there's that," he admitted a little sheepishly, but despite their terrible fortune the Sheriff of Terminus seemed to take it all in stride. As if this were just a part of the plan he couldn't be bothered to explain, and everything was perfectly under his control.

 

[Yula Perl]

It was an absolute nightmare.

One minute she was on Pantora dueling some Sith babe, and the next minute they were in a death spiral towards the surface of Force knows what backwater Rim world. The Sith had torched the planet, bombarded the snowy world to the point where nary a duracrete brick had been salvageable. Coalition transports had attempted to zip their way through the Sith fleets, and Yula had been pulled aboard one of the few that had made landfall. Somewhere in the chaotic mess of a retreat, they’d gone down.

The minute after that, she was greeted by the sight of a shirtless Kiffar hovering over her. Normally appreciative of a lack of clothes in general, Yula’s head was swimming in a full-throttle ache and didn’t have the time to come up with a smart retort. Also, it was Zak, so there was that.

“I’ve been what?” Jolting up, the Zeltron put a hand against the side of her face as the world went wavy for a moment. After pausing to collect herself, she cautiously turned her head to survey her new environment. The nippy Pantora frosts had been replaced by an uncomfortably humid air, and the skies thick with smoke and storm had cleared to be unbearably sunny. Their getaway vehicle was currently roasting in a heap on the sands, flames poking lazily around the debris like a bonfire.

Yula took the canteen, squinting at it before taking a gulp of water and nearly gagging at the unexpected dryness of her throat.

“What happened?” She asked carefully, not liking the idea that she had to be rescued. First on principle, then because it indicated that something was wrong. A situation, if you will.

A roar reverberated across the shores, somewhere from the forested inland. The noise startled Yula to her feet and she threw herself at the burning wreckage.

“Emily!” Shrieking out the droid’s name, she clawed at the rubble with newfound adrenaline, unearthing a few limbs belonging to the little spider droid. Tugging Emily’s remains out of the wreck, Yula sniffled upon the discovery that the unit had been crushed like a tin can. “No…” Her voice cracked, this time with emotion as she touched her forehead to the twisted mess of blue durasteel. Emily had been her first successful droid, her companion, her friend.

Fiddling with a reinforced side panel, Yula jimmied the droid’s brain out of its slot and pocketed the chip. “Oh well.” She unceremoniously dropped Emily’s body into the rest of the scrap before dusting herself off and rising to make her way back over to Zak. “That’s the third time this month.”

“So, who rescued me?” She peered around, perhaps hoping that the tall drink of evil water had heroically pulled her from the crash.

[member="Zak Amroth"]

 

[Miri O'Hare]

They'd been far out from port. Much farther than she'd originally thought. She grimaced as she glanced down at their GPS towards the nearest port town. They'd past several small islands on their way out but it would be a long day of sailing still before they got back. A call had gone out on open channels asking for local ships to help pick up survivors of crashes and life pods from ships that had managed to make it in system but were too damaged to be salvaged.

While she hadn't been pressed or interested in helping...The smoke trail off in the distance had caught the eyes of her crew. They all knew the island was uncharted and most likely uninhabited which meant they'd be stuck there forever if nobody found them. With a spiteful groan she turned their ship towards the island. They were there in a few minutes and docked.

Miri hopped off the boat, blaster drawn and she and her small crew plus KIX made their way towards the crash site.

[member="Yula Perl"] [member="Zak Amroth"]

 

[Frielle Kinniak]

Frielle arrived at Pamarthe, the Qi'ra punched through the clouds and as she did so the spacer caught visual of the Coalition forces. Wounded, limping at best - her heart sunk, she should have been there to help them. Instead, Frielle had been out in the enemy territory and if it had been to spy or collect important data of one sort or another she found it would be somewhat excusable. No, Frielle had been out on Bastion and then Galidraan. Meeting with her... aunts, Lucy, and Ryssa on Bastion and together they visited Galidraan paying respects to the dead. The dead that Frielle never really knew in their life, worse she was sure she loathed most of them due to their affiliations with the First Order at the time.

It was still daunting to know - to know that she was related to the Imperials in some shape or form.

If it was just a distant relation she could ignore it, or find the excuse to it.

No, this was a direct relation - grandmother, aunts, cousins.

Cousins was about as distant she could get, and even then she only wished to that her father had been honest. Honest with his children about who they were, where they came from, where he came from. Frielle sighed as the Qi'ra banked toward a spaceport. He spent his entire life running from who he was, never once stopping to own up to it. Frielle didn't want to make that same mistake, for now, the spacer pushed this aside. Her focus now had to be on the others - those who had fought on Pantora.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Objective 1: Refugees
Location: Pamarthe
Allies: ORC

"Blood losses?" Cathul asked the medical droid near her. "Get appropriate blood supplies, stat!"

"Roger, roger"

The time has come to mend the blood vessels together but she knew that getting the blood transfusions ready was not instant, even with medical droids handling that. In fact, she knew there wouldn't even be a chance to get the patient back on track without transfusions, not even with casts or slings put on it afterward. There's a reason why limiting blood losses are often key for treating lacerations or broken bones in a trauma context. Yet, once these blood losses are replaced, then the patient could be awaken. For now, anyway, the patient would need to be hooked up to a needle from which the new blood comes. Once the droid ran tests on the patient's blood, the droid wasted no time getting the right blood from the ship's blood bank so that, upon return, the transfusion can begin in earnest.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Tiland's eyes blinked in the harsh sun as they slowly opened and began to feel aware of where he was. It was not in a shuttle, which was what he last remembered. He could, however, hear water lapping at the shore and the waves of heat beating down on his weathered face. Everything seemed to be in one piece, but they definitely hurt. He pushed himself up from the sand with a groan and squinted into the blinding glare, even after shading his eyes with a hand.

Where were they? Why was he here? What was it that had put him on a beach without remembering how he managed to arrive. Normally, when it came to beaches, he was quite aware of what was occurring and what it took to arrive. Stifling another groan and bracing his back, he pulled himself up off the ground, kicking sand away from his feet.

In the distance, he could just make out shattered durasteel and smoking mechanical parts. Must have been the ship that had crashed with him inside it. He shook his head to clear and tried to make sense of some sort of timeline, but it eluded him. He could, however, just feel some figures in the distance, who were alive.

"Hello there!" He called, voice cracking until he swallowed a few times to get enough moisture to keep speaking. "Are you alright?"



[member="Yula Perl"] [member="Zak Amroth"]

 

[Kaleleon]

The loud ringing in my ears is what woke me up. All before the pain slowly ebbed into my body. Throbbing all over and filling me to the brim with the need to move. I was in pain right now. Everything told me to move. Get up and get out of whatever was on top of me. My right arm was burning, left was tingling as though it had lost circulation, and my head pounded like some ritual drum of a indigenous people. Slowly pulling my arms into my chest, I began to try and lift myself. Finding a panel that had once been part of the ships interior, laying on top of me. Grunting with effort, I pulled my legs up underneath me, and pushed up with my legs and hands. The panel slid off of my back and fell to my side.

Even with my ears ringing, I couldn't hear the crash of the panel. Something was clearly wrong. Nobody was near me that I could tell. However, I could feel a wind upon my face. That was not good at all. It wasn't soft like some Air conditioning unit. Looking up, I saw a massive gash in the hall that led out of the ship. Fires had sprinkled it like some garnish on a cake. Crawling forward, I pulled myself out of the gash. Coming out into the bright light. Blinding myself as I fell onto some sand.

I was not fond of sand. It coarse and gets everywhere. Getting some in my mouth after falling down into it, I spit out what I could before leaning up. Resting on my knees as I felt the breeze blowing across the entirety of my body. Slowly the ringing was fading out and I opened my eyes. Trying to stand up upon the sand, I could see that my clothing was torn and in shambles. Luckily I still had my saber and pistol, but my necklace was now gone. I cursed as it was the one my mother gave me.

It was likely broken and not fixable. So I didn't worry to much about it. She would understand. However, I was more worried about the ship. Attempting to stand, I fell back onto my knee. I tried again and finally found my footing. I slowly turned around to see the part of the ship I had been in. Shambles. It was not good at all.

It was then I could hear [member="Romi Jade"]'s voice in my head.

"Always look at your surroundings. Make sure you are in a good position to defend yourself. Always."
"Yes Master Jade."

Mumbling an answer to her even though she wasn't here as far as I could tell. I patted myself up and down. No major wounds or bleeding. Feeling my head, I had a gash on my forehead that was bleeding a bit, but not enough to be worrisome. Turning around and taking severance of the surroundings, it was an island. Water, sand, some foliage of a kind, some animals that were inspecting the ship but scared of it at the same time. Taking my hands to press against the sides of my head, I tried to limit the headache I had gotten from the crash.

Thats right. We crashed while heading to a planet away from the Sith. I forget where we were headed, but now, I had to see if others had survived. Looking to my left and right, I saw some people in the distance a little further away. Other broken parts of the ship strewn down the coast of the island. Maybe they could know more about where we are than I do.

[member="Tiland Kortun"], [member="Miri O'Hare"], [member="Yula Perl"], [member="Zak Amroth"],

 

[Zak Amroth]

TRANSPORT CRASH SITE​

UNCHARTED ISLAND, PAMARTHE​

[member="Yula Perl"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Kale Seleare"]​

​

"Oh, you know..." Zak's unflappable exuberance faded a little when Yula started asking questions, "Just Jedi stuff."

He briefly flashed back to those terrifying last few moments before the crash. Smoke billowing throughout the cockpit, Yula screaming half delirious from her ordeal on Pantora that he was going to get them all killed. Was it really his fault that he wasn't a natural pilot? If she didn't remember all the details he reasoned that was probably for the best. No need to trouble her with irrelevant trivia about who crashed how.

After the roar his zeltron 'apprentice' took off for the wreck. He called out to her, more than a little annoyed that they had apparently skipped over any expressions of gratitude. Before he had time to haul Yula back to safety she yanked out the remains of a fiendish device that he had hoped never to lay eyes upon again. Another flash of memory as the sheriff remembered his first terrifying moments of regained consciousness. Emily was skittering over him, still mostly functional, and in his panic stricken terror he had used the Force to fling the droid back into the wreckage.

"I tried to go back for it," he lied. Hopefully its memory buffer was corrupted, "Funny how that keeps happening."

This was the third time he had failed to kill that stupid spider.

"What do you mean who rescued you?" Zak stammered haughtily. He gestured at their surroundings, "Do you see anyone else around here?!"

"Hello there! Are you alright?"

He continued to glare at her, "Okay, besides that old man."

Behind her Zak caught a glimpse of a younger man, wounded and stumbling out from the wilderness toward their wreck.

"You know what? It doesn't matter. The life of a Judge is a humble life, never forget that deputy," he raised his fingers in a V for victory, "You help the senior citizen, I got eight pack over there."

Sheriff Amroth held his fingers out, solemnly waiting for her to press hers against his so he could shout 'Go Team Amroth!' She hated this part more than anything but Zak insisted it was a valuable team building exercise. Really it just made him feel jazzed up and after all what was the point of taking on a student if you didn't get any perks out of it?