"Hands up sith!"
Mythos' vision was blurred by the loss of blood and the intense pain a large chunk of transparisteel embedded between his lower ribs did not make things easier for the king of Atrisia. He could only see through one eye, blood from his forehead started to drip down through his face, his hands shook as he placed them in visible range from the Galactic Alliance troopers and they flanked him on both sides, blasters hoisted and fingers in the triggers. "No movements, no funny business sith, i have no qualms of shooting you dead right here"
Mythos heard the words faintly, as if they came from a quarter mile away. He could not hide his smirk even through the pain. Mythos did not move his body, but instead twitched his fingers closed as he hung a noose round the troopers necks. "You should have pulled the trigger... " His voice was faint, almost inaudible, the snap of their necks was louder, the thumping of their bodies and weapons in the seared and broken duracrete even more so. Mythos feel to his knees soon after the troopers feel to the ground, the blackness of unconsciousness called him like a sirens' song... he almost gave in.... but his hands fell to his abdomen and grasped the sharp transparisteel firmly. Even touching the piece of glass caused ripples of agony to shoot through his body like a tidal wave.
Blood opened from his hands as the sharp glass slit open his palms, he pulled hard and slow and the glass slowly started to make it's way out. Grunting at the pain and gnashing his teeth as inch by inch it pulled, gushing blood all the way through. Screaming a load roar, a scream that could be heard through the force across the galaxy, a scream that would wake the dead and shake the throne of Coruscant he pulled the glass with one sharp yank and threw the glass across the floor bending and stammering in pain.
His bloody hands were shaking, they made for his belt and wrapped their blood stained fingers across his lightsaber and brought it to bare. The black core blade was brought into existance with the push of a switch, the symbol of house chaf emblazoned in his lightsaber was now covered in blood, blood that gushed from his hands and his open stomach. Mythos sat straight, he placed the lightsabers' blade across his stomach vertically and pushed it closer and closer to the open wound beside his ribs, when it made contact his scream was drowned by the deafening explosions around him, the smell of burnt skin and flesh permeated through his nostrils and shot adrenaline through his body and caused him to stand in a fit of fury and desperation.
His one good eye turned back to the cortan blade as it burned and threw up black smoke. "Don't die M... Don't you dare die..."
He tried to run, but the first fast step discouraged him. The wound was fresh and internal injuries were present, he approached the site of the burning ship and slowly huddled to the back of the blade next to the quad lazer cannon that was undoubtedly destroyed beyond repair. He channeled his pain, the agony from his many wounds through the force and raised his palm to the door. The beskar groaned in protest, harder than durasteel and stronger the material now worked against Mythos but he did not relent. Telekinesis formed around the drop pod in the back, crushing it and pulling it out violently at the will of the Sith Lord. It busted out with a horrific sound, Mythos took a step to the side to avoid the flying beskar chunk that he had pulled and watched it fall a thousand miles to the gas titans' core. One step in front of the other, Mythos rushed into the Cortan Blade holding his breath as black smoke beat upon his nostrils and the smell of burning fuel, he saw Martha sprawled in her chair with her head open and bleeding. With his remaining strength he hoisted her up on his shoulder screaming in pain, the force aided him in standing and walking without which the very act would be impossible.
The walk to the outside of the blade was a testament of willpower.... also pain inducing beyond imagination. A few yard from the ship Mythos placed Martha down and the explosion of the cortan blade sent chunks of durasteel and ship parts flying everywhere. Mythos ducked beside Martha until the explosion subsided. Reaching for his communicator he noticed the ion blast had fried it, instinctively he laid his head back and regularized his breathing. He decided to try... "Command, this is Mythos.... i need medical evac, we have casualties... repeat...we... need " He never got to finish that transmission...
