Focus on the Vision [Galactic Alliance Dominion of Fondor]

[Aerin Akun]

Location: Orbital Station - Medical Bay
Post: 3/20

Sudden shouts and weapons fire down the hall blended into her intrusion, becoming the sounds of the village defending itself in the background of her abduction. Aerin missed the exchange of looks between the pirates nearby as she dug her nails into her captor's hand, gouging out pieces of his skin, trying to force him off of her.

"Girl, I said play nice," the pirate snapped, tightening his hold on her and holstering his blaster. "You two, see if it's some rogue soldiers left over." With a bit of a struggle, he managed to imprison her wrists in his hand and bent her head back for a better look at her. Aerin stared back at him in half-terror, half-rage. This was the apprentice, the man who had left her stranded on a planet where she would have died. Disinterest and a faint layer of arrogance dominated his expression until he turned his face away to look at something over his shoulder.

"I said go!" he shouted, and two pirates left the med bay with hesitant steps. Aerin watched them go with eyes that saw through them, but her eyes latched back onto his as he returned his attention to her. His dispassionate voice spoke; as she had never heard him on the planet, any voice could have been his.

"Get comfortable; we're going to be a minute," he sneered, and then looked over at his few remaining men who were restraining and harassing Karrilyn. "If they aren't back in two minutes, we're leaving without them. Get ready to move them; they'll be part of the spoils." He looked over the nurse and then back down at the other woman in his grip. He turned her head to inspect her face from another angle, well-versed in sales of the flesh. "Why do you stay buttoned up, sweetheart? You've got a pretty face." He frowned and bent her head all the way back, ignoring Aerin's choked cry. Moving her hands with his, he pulled down the collar of her turtleneck, exposing the tops of what looked like burn scars. "Shab. How far do those go down?"

Aerin stayed silent. He knew. He and his Master and the others had put them there. He knew how far they went. Though her fear remained strong, anger was beginning to dominate it when additional pain didn't immediately present itself. He had not really hurt her yet; had not sent electricity surging through her, had not run the edge of his lightsaber along her skin just enough to begin forming blisters. Her heartbeat sped up again, and she tried to turn back to the thought that he was still biding his time for some reason. She remained limp in his hands, waiting for him to make a mistake, to leave an opening. This was not the Master; it was just the apprentice. With a lightsaber in his hand against an unarmed opponent, he was death incarnate; without it, she could take him if she had a weapon and the element of surprise. It was irrational; somewhere, faintly, she acknowledged that. With the Force as a tool, surprise would only take her so far unless the first blow was a killing one. Prominent in her mind, though, was the belief that she could escape if she only had the right tool, and that washed away any protestations of logic.

The pirate released her collar and pulled her to her feet by hands and hair. Involuntarily, she jerked against his hold again, and he shoved her against the nearby gurney, releasing her hands only to pin one against her back and then crush her arm between his body and hers. His breath hit the back of her head and neck as he brought himself flush against her to add, "I guess I'll have to find out myself when I get back to the ship."

[member="Rook"] [member="Ijaat Akun"] [member="Ylvaris Desman"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Objective 2
[member="The Revenant"] | [member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Avalore Eden"]
City Hall [2/20]

It was one thing to be carried into battle on the back of a battle-hardened Jedi Master, but a whole other thing was to be carried into the fray of the injured, the destitute and hopeless; they needed to show these people hope and light. Looking weak yourself would only do to demoralize them even further: "How can they help us, if they can’t even help themselves?".

No, instead Vaet simply nodded - a silent understanding passing between the two. He would stay close, make sure that he did not lose her out of sight. His height was quite the annoying factor in times like these, this he understood completely.

His crooked sapling helped him move about just a little bit faster, allowing him to keep up without expending too much energy for the travel, but it was not enough. All around him there was the feeling of hopelessness. It pressed down on his conscious and did not want to let go: he could not close his eyes to concentrate better, in such crowded surroundings it would be too much of a risk.

So instead Vaet tightened his grip across the wooden surface. His claws making small indents in it. From him an aura of peace and serenity started to radiate.

It was just a drip in a big, big bucket, but sometimes that one drip could cause a ripple on the surface - one that would move and touch all that was around it, causing even bigger ripples.

All Vaet could do was hope it would be enough.

 

[Tegaea Alcori]

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]
4/20

Tegaea smiled, she too enjoyed being at the centre of things. She struggled to remember…it had been a while and a lot had happened. Finally, she had it.
“It’s good to see you again, Mr Glark,” Tegaea said with a smile. “How’s the family?”
“It’s been hard times, Ms Alcori. Been dangerous here on the streets, nobody been appreciating good food. But now things are looking up. I’ve heard the Alliance is here…and you two are back!”
“We won’t be here for long, just came to get business sorted. But, for now, I’m starving. You remember our order.”
“Always! I’ll get it right away! Oh, and I like what you’ve done with your hair, Ms Kerrigan,” he said with a nod, then bustled off.
“Yeah, nice hair,” Tegaea said teasingly, reaching out and stroke her wife’s firemane.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

[member="Tegaea Alcori"]


Siobhan liked being the centre of attention. Especially if it meant she got compliments about her combat prowess, her skill in bed or, as in this case, her looks. So she was feeling quite smug and chipper when Glark drew attention to her magnificient firemane. If Siobhan comes across as being monumentally vain, then this is intentional.


"Thank you," she said brightly. "Red looks so great on my wife and my daughter I had to give it a try." She arched into the touch when her wife stroked her hair. "Not as lovely as yours, dear, but I manage!" No, she was not trolling at all. Well, maybe a little bit, but the words were heartfelt.


And so they were seated and very soon one of the waiters brought them drinks and poured their glasses. Through the window they had a lovely view of Fondor city, though Sio paid it little mind and instead raised her glass. Clearly it was time for an assault of pure, unadulterated Sio lovey-dovey corniness. "Here's to us, my love. To the future and the family we built, away from OP politics, Fondor and what not. Long as we're together there's nothing we can't accomplish. I love you." Their glasses clinked nicely together.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Objective 2
[member="The Revenant"] | [member="Vaet"] | [member="Chevu Visz"]

"Vaet?" Avalore had briefly lost him in a sudden onrush of pleading people. After assuring them she had no supplies to give, they passed on, heading towards the City Hall where she directed them to get in line for rations.

The Healer turned, looking this way and that, hand in her hair to hold it from her face until finally she spotted him. It was impossible for her to imagine his present difficulties. Avalore might have an innate sort of empathy but it was nothing born of the Force and nothing so strong as his own. Stoic brown eyes searched him out, leveling a gaze that was strangely tense yet calm.

"Come on," a hand was offered to him. She wouldn't carry him but she would certainly ensure not to lose him again. Her grip was firm, resolute, strong. The sort of grip only a mother knew when she had lost something very dear to her.

"It's not much farther. There's two others up ahead handing out rations."

Avalore wished she knew their names but even as their guard listed them off she could not place them to any sort of memory.

Jedi Knight Visz and the Wrath Prisoner.

Wrath Prisoner?

Force, she was so out of the loop.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Objective 2

[member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Vaet"] | [member="Avalore Eden"]

Just then, he turned from Chevu, catching glimpse of the child again. A small needle in a moving hay stack and his vision obscured from that of the Mirialan to finding Tormund. No, not Tormund. He mentally snapped out of it, memories turned over and flooding into his current experiences, water color bleeding across the canvas. He squinted his eyes and there he was again. He turned to Chevu, knowing she was fine with the process of humanitarian work, as he trudged off into the wake of the childs movement. As if a void was caused and filled by his presence, filled with more people and pedestrians.

A hope soon turned into a pipe dream as he settled into the idea that this child was gone all along and his eyes were playing tricks on him. The sort of cruel aspirations that ended on a mute note, carried off into the distance for him to never hear again. Not that the words or sounds were soothing, far from it. The lips spoke of pain and loss and hopelessness that mirrored his current state. But the giving up, letting go, that was the bitter swallow that followed. And on the wind, he heard the words. Wrath Prisoner.

He ached against the comparison but acknowledge it's necessity. He wore this face without pause, he demanded the criticism as a reminder for what he had partaken in. But even then, it still cut shallow gorges across his flesh, filling with sediment of constant reminders. That he was, for those unaware of the predicament, the Wrath. The man that had committed genocides, killed without second thought, and led the One Sith to their recent triumphs. And he had to admit, the thought was nearly maddening. Like staring up a vertical face and being asked to climb, absent any tools or assistance.

In the distance, he spotted a woman and guards, a small creature by her side. Jutting out his left hand, he took a piece of bread from a guard and knelt down, placing it in dirty hands with a look of concern. "Don't worry...things will get better." He said as he stood, wondering if he was speaking to the old man on the cobble or reciting his own hopes aloud.

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Objective: 1
Allies: [member="Rook"] | [member="Ylvaris Desman"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Aerin Akun"]
[11/20]

Seeing the victory achieved by objective, Ijaat straightened and slipped on his gauntlets, gripping the boltgun tight in hands that dwarfed the fearsome weapon. He scanned the security cameras, and while some of them were offline, by and large, there was one just outside the med-bay that showed a pair of pirates moving out from the wrecked doors, obviously coming to investigate something. The only reply was to gesture to the screen and grunt. They were no threat to he and his brothers, but if they were left unchecked they could try and destabilize the station or cause further damage. And so, the one called Beast merely turned, racking the slide to his gun as he slid a fresh clip in, and strode out of the control room.

Seconds later there was a twinned boom as two unsuspecting pirates were terminated with extreme prejudice by a twisted machination of science and nature. But he did not stop, instead proceeding onward. They could have been a scouting party sent from a main crew at the medbay, and so moments later he jogged into the place, reaching it and breaking into a full fledged run, shields humming at full charge. Running into an enclosed box was suicidal in terms of tactics, but it must be done, and done quickly and smartly. So he decided to rely on shock and awe in terms of how to overcome the enemy and win.

As soon as he stepped over the threshold, his gun was up, firing in precise bursts of light and raucous thunder, spewing death from it's barrel. The other hand gripped his sword, unseathing it to slide it clean through a man at the waist, the keen edge and massive power behind it severing organ and spine with ease. And so, in less than a minute after entry, the Dreadguard stood in the center of the medbay, as the one who was holding Aerin remained the only one alive, rooted to the spot in frozen amazement. He knew that face, somehow, and to even see it caused a burning pain in his temples, the boltgun and sword clattering to the ground as his body gave into shock and he stood agape, confused and dismayed.

Reaching up, the helmet came off with a hiss and click of pressure, and he gazed to the one he had called his wife, the memories flooding back. His voice was changed, but that face was just the same, if bearing the hallmarks of age. Numb fingers dropped the bit of armor to the floor of the bay with a thud, revealing his face to all for their sight, eyes wide and a mixture of horror and relief.

"Aerin? Is that you?"

 

[Aerin Akun]

The cacaphony of rapid-fire blaster shots made Aerin hunch in on herself, and she simply remained as low as possible, trying to keep away from both the man still hovering above her and the nearby slaughter. She glanced up only once as Karrilyn screamed, but her eyes became riveted to the imposing figure causing wholesale slaughter around her. Suddenly, the soldier stopped, and all was silence. The heavy breathing of the unmoving man behind her was audible in that void of sound. Aerin didn't dare move. Still lost in the belief that it was fifteen or more years earlier, she was unsure if this were some neutral third party there to make her life more miserable or an actual and unexpected savior. When the soldier abandoned his weapons and reached up to remove his helmet, Aerin just stared, perplexed and unsure.

Who would be here, on this backwater world, now of all times? she marveled, eyes fixed on him, waiting for the revelation. For just a moment, his face was exposed and clear in her vision, and she felt the relief and shock inherent in his expression reflected in hers.

Ijaat, her mind offered at nearly a whisper as his helmet clattered to the floor, the barest hope beginning to grow in her.

And then he spoke.

Aerin. My pet.

Her gray-green eyes widened in crystalline terror at the nearly-broken rumble of that voice, her pupils shrinking to pinpricks. The aged face of her husband became the familiar face of the Sith Lord towering over her, eyes mocking, lips spread in a grin that promised every iota of pain he could extract from her. Presented with the deepest hallmark of her trauma in the midst of a post-traumatic intrusion, something in her snapped.

"Fething--" the pirate hauled Aerin up to use as a shield, but was forced to use one hand as he needed to reach for his blaster. The paltry grip was not enough to keep her when he dared to bring her face-to-face with her nightmare; fueled by her fear, Aerin ripped out of his grasp and stumbled away from them, voiceless and mindless with terror. Blind to all except her own flight response, she tripped over the abandoned bonesaw and fell to the floor. The pain of the landing was nothing; she looked back, recognized the item as a weapon, and frantically grabbed for it.

She never saw what happened to the pirate in the interval between getting the saw and getting up. She knew the Sith Lord: once his attention was off of the pirate, it would be on her. He could use the Force to hold her whenever he wished. There would be no easy escape, and the thought of being dragged back to him by the invisible ropes of the Force drove her to extremes. Armed in a way she had never been before, the panicked Aerin launched herself at the "Sith Lord" as she activated the whirring electric blade, slamming it into his chest with all the force she was capable of mustering. The fact that the saw only glanced off the phrik armor didn't deter her; the fact that the second blow broke off the end of the blade did.

She looked from the broken tool up into his eyes; his gaze was already focused on her.

Face morphing with dread, she took the first of a series of trembling steps backward and screamed. And screamed. And screamed.

[member="Ijaat Akun"]

 

[Tegaea Alcori]

[member="Siobhan Kerrigan"]

“Here’s to love, to us, and to moving on. It’s been nice to visit Fondor again, but it reminds me that time moves on, and sometimes for the better.”

In any case, Fondor was now liberated. Soon it would become the arsenal of freedom in the war against the Sith. However for now, Tegaea’s part on Fondor was done as she enjoyed her meal.

 

[Jairus Starvald]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Objective 2[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px][member="The Revenant"] | [member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Avalore Eden"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.6667px]City Hall [3/20][/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]This was the reason why Vaet never left the Outer Rim. The pain and suffering of a few could be endured, healed even with enough attention paid, but the collective agony of these crowds would have been enough to sent a master empath stumbling… for the little Vaetling it was worse. He kept walking, only strengthened by his own resolve, by the virtue of his will to [/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px]endure[/SIZE][SIZE=10.6667px] and aid in any fashion that he could. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Suddenly a hand wrapped itself around his. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]His eyes shot open, staring unseen, before they refocused on Avalore - the gaze softened, less piercing and old, more understanding. Eden’s presence was a balm to his pain, but it was only barely enough to keep him going.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Short this journey may be, but our path is infinitely longer still.” the green, little alien replied softly. She might not even have heard him in the cacophony of the crowds. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Will the defeat of the Sith bring relief to these people?” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]Vaet shook his head.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.6667px]“Wonder, I do.” [/SIZE]

 

[Avalore Eden]

"That picture is a bit too big to look at right now, Vaet," Avalore informed him as she helped him along, "let's keep it small."

Like affecting those within their immediate vicinity. The Guard lead them further on, off to the side of the open street and to the fringe of the crowds where a small group sat huddled upon the stoop to some business building. Stragglers strayed along the sloping stairs or paused to catch their breath. The frenzy of the street was enough to fray even the more staunch of mental constitution.

"Over here, Master Eden," the Guard called and showed them to an unconscious woman wrapped in an Alliance provided blanket. Beside her were two children of early teen ages.

"Hello, my name is Avalore," she introduced herself to them as she moved to stoop next to the woman, "I am a Jedi Healer. This is my ...Padawan Learner, Vaet."

It wasn't really true. At least, no firm titles had been established between the two, but for the sake for their understanding it was simpler to take an avenue they'd be familiar with: Master and Apprentice. Nevermind who was really mentoring who, here.

"Mom's sick," said the older of the two, neither of which looked as though they'd had a solid meal in quite some time, "she went to sleep yesterday and hasn't woken up."

"I'll do what I can," she said brusquely, never one to make any promises, she moved to take the sleeping woman's temperature and conduct a blood test.

"104..." her brow furrowed as she waited on the test results, "Vaet...take one of the flares from my bag and light it."

[member="Vaet"]
[member="The Revenant"]
[member="Chevu Visz"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Objective 2

[member="Chevu Visz"] | [member="Vaet"] | [member="Avalore Eden"]

He had closed the distance, just in time to catch the prognosis. More children, always children. Wars wage around the universe and it's the children who bleed. Gabriel fortified himself as he approached, parting the crowd, as he heard the temperature and the call for a flare.

Kneeling down, absent any introduction to the Jedi Master or her small friend, he absentmindedly put his hands on the patient. He had no thoughts towards body substance isolation, trending more towards a personal touch and the idea that these people weren't sick. They were merely wounded, injured by a conflict that wasn't their own.

Placing his hands first on her throat and then behind her ears, he palpated the lymph nodes. Swollen. He frowned and looked towards the children. "Has your mother been cut or bitten?" He spotted some rats down the way, vermin scurrying across the cobble and duracrete. One of the boys nodded and Gabriel smiled reassuringly, placing his hand on the womans throat. The pulse was rapid, well above 100 beats per minute. He looked to the Jedi Master and then to the small 'apprentice' close by. "By all means, please light a flare."

He predicted sepsis if not in the severe stages. It didn't occur to him to ask if she could heal this woman. Jedi healing wasn't exactly his immediate inclination.