Outfit: Field Attire
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike
The lights moved all at once. Aadihr felt his body in pain, but with his Sight so far from himself, it became difficult to locate himself once more, the ringing in his head and dizzying motions of what colors he could see matching the nausea of the sudden impact of whatever had hit him.
Aadihr let go of his sight, ignoring everything as he tried to steady himself. He felt words in his head that he could not make out, garbled by ringing and shell shock.
Body first. Assess yourself. Pavement and shattered glass on your cheek. The world is spinning, but you are not. Move your hand.
Aadihr slowly brought his hand to push himself onto his elbows. He tried to See once more but the dizzying lights emptied the contents of his stomach below him. He fruitlessly felt around, sifting his scorched and scratched hand through debris in search of his staff.
Instead he found another person. Aadihr shuffled, his balance still sundered, his Sight still rolling an yawing sickeningly. Aadihr felt along the body, finding a wrist and checking for a pulse. He could not feel one. He moved his hands to the chest, feeling for breath - none. His hands went to verify the pulse with the neck. The body ended before he got there, leaving his fingers warm and slick.
Aadihr forced his Sight open again, heaving fruitlessly as the dizzying colors around him, ever shifting. He concentrated, forcing them to still. It took time but the constant motion diminished, if did not cease. A concussion, Aadihr assessed.
Finally able to use his Sight, he located his staff and leaned up on it to stand. Something tingled when he leaned on his foot. Aadihr separated his sight from himself to diagnose.
Concussion, crushed foot, lacerations, bruising, abrasions, first- no, second degree burns, minor hemorrhaging, fractured ribs, and over a dozen bits of minor shrapnel.
He reached for a stim pack injecting it into his calf to dull the pain before it fully set in and treat what it could. The hemorrhaging would have to be stopped. A shame he did not have the time to enter a healing trance. Aadihr put all of his concentration on steadying his hands and ignited the tip of his pike. This would hurt, and would cause additional damage, but at least he wouldn't be bleeding out from the inside and he could get proper Bacta treatment later.
With delicate precision and external Sight to view his own wounds, Aadihr stifled a groan of pain as he slowly stabbed the top of his pike into his abdomen, 3 inches deep to the source of the hemorrhage. It seared and sizzled and hurt every milimeter of the way. As soon as the bleeding was cauterized, Aadihr disengaged his pike, leaning on the staff on e more. He returned his Sight to the comfort of his own would-be perspective, hearing Zaiya’s voice not far from himself.
He stepped over the rubble as fast as he could, limiting his movements to what would prevent worsening. He looked once more behind him, near the epicenter of the blast. The street was ruined, burning and buildings collapsed. The scene before him was tragically transparent. There was one fading light amongst the rubble, so faint he nearly missed it. Aadihr tried to call out, earning himself another series of dry heaves.
He stepped closer to the signature under the rubble even as it faded. Mustering everything in him, he pulled at the broken slabs of building with the force, barely managing to tilt it before the effort overwhelmed him. He was not strong enough. He had never been strong enough. His mentor was right.
Instead he kneeled, speaking as best he could without triggering another fit.
“Can you hear me? Can you move?” Aadihr asked.
The aura shifted in response, but he could not make out any sound in the crushing weight of the building.
“Reach to the sound of my voice” the presence complied, reaching towards a gap in the rubble, still deep within.
Aadihr leaned fully, putting his arm into the gap of the ruined building amidst the lost brick, rebar, and concrete. he extended as far as he could, shoulder to sharp pavement, finally grasping the cracked skin of the survivors hand.
“Just hold onto me, I'll get you help, just wait, okay? We'll get you out of here” The hand squeezed faintly. Aadhir poured his life force through the touch, feeling it stabilize the aura, even as his own limbs grew heavier.
“That should help. Just… Just give me a moment and I’ll get the others for help.”
Aadihr tried to stand, but the pain was catching up to him. He needed to draw their attention, not for his condition but for the trapped survivor.
He attempted something he had never tried before, unsure if it would work. He let his Sight wander deeply, carrying the entirety of his sense of self. He navigated to where he had heard
Zaiya Ceti
. He found her presence, aiding injured survivors. He let his Sight grow closer and imagined himself reaching out, grasping at the aura and pulling at it, back towards himself.
It was fruitless at first, his Sight had no representative body with it. He persevered, nudging and shoving and attempting to get any response from her aura. With one last shove, a desperate pull, he saw a slight shockwave, a ripple among the edge of the pool of color. He had managed to at least somehow affect a single aura from a distance.
The effort earned him another painful set of wheezing and retching, this time a companied by spray of crimson emission as the hemorrhage reopened itself. The best he could hope for is that the Zaiya could feel the desperate sensation, and hold onto the survivor as best he could. Failing that, perhaps
Iris Arani
would find them in time. At the very least the survivor would not die alone and in the darkness.
Aadihr’s eyelids grew heavy, and he gave the stranger’s hand a comforting squeeze.
