Private Out in the stars

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: Drifting somewhere in Galactic Alliance space.
Objective: Contact for rescue, hope for the best.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

A lone ship, adrift in the stars. With the bridge's control panel spitting out sparks, trying to ascertain the current location was all but impossible for the lone survivor inside the cockpit.

Jenn... had fought as hard as she could, and in the end, she had won. Boarding the ship of what had once been a friend of hers during a supply run, she made her presence known after a hyperspace jump, where he could no longer call for help: and despite the respect they still held for one another, the two warriors knew how the encounter would end. They were Mando'ade, and Blaster fire erupted in the tight corridors of the ship as they fought one another, abandoning their weapons when they ran dry: there was no time, and no space for reloading. They fought like wild beasts, drawing their gauntlet-mounted blades and seeking to strike in between the armor plates-

And eventually, both found purchase. Her brother's stuck in her side, and her own in the side of his neck. So it was that the two cradled one another, and Jenn kept his head against her shoulder, bringing him a modicum of comfort as his life ebbed, her chest rising and falling as she tried to focus on her own wound. Through some small miracle, the life support systems were still operational, but there was no medbay in such a small, personal vessel, and the supplies she carried with her were not enough for her to properly staunch the bleeding. So it was that she held her fellow Mandalorian, redeemed in death, and stared out from the cockpit and towards the stars.

It was only when an alarm began blaring that she realized she had slowly been losing consciousness, jolting awake with a start. With a hiss of pain, she reached for her blaster pistol, aiming it right at the door. Whoever thought to board the crippled vessel would find her wounded, on the verge of passing out, but unbowed.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

There was a time when Gatz would have ignored a distress signal, too absorbed with making his deliveries on time, and making sweet credits for smuggling spice into systems where it definitely wasn't legal. There was a time when he would have dismissed a distress signal as an obvious trap, and not worth risking his life for.

For better, or for worse, those days were in his past.

He had changed course from Naboo the moment he'd picked up the distress signal. It wasn't the first time he'd gone out of his way like this, and Force willing, it wouldn't be the last. He didn't want to be the kind of man who could ignore someone in need, regardless of the risk to his own life. So, despite knowing that it was a dangerous thing to do, he had dropped out of hyperspace near the drifting vessel.

It had been a simple thing, to line the docking collar of The Red Night up with that of this derelict ship, and board. The first thing he spotted when he crossed over to the other ship was the carbon scoring on the walls and deck. A fight had broken out here. But who had won? The boarder, or the board-ee?

He hoped it was the latter. The former was far more likely to shoot him and take his ship.

With his hand on his blaster, Gatz crept further down the corridor, doing his best to muffle his footsteps. He reached out for the Force, feeling its flow as it wound its way through the ship, and he felt loss echo like the ringing of a hollow bell. Life faintly filtered in from up ahead, in the cockpit, but it was close on the heels of ending.

He understood. Someone had embraced death here. And someone else was about to.

Throwing caution to the wind if it meant saving a life, Gatz stepped through the door into the cockpit, and was greeted by two Mandalorians holding one another. Both clad in beskar, and both looking as though they'd fought to their last breath. One dead, and one bleeding out, pointing a blaster right at him.

"I'd appreciate it if you didn't shoot me."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: Drifting somewhere in Galactic Alliance space.
Objective: Contact for rescue, hope for the best.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Honor and duty often led to the death of love - something Jenn knew all too well. She had loved Tardek as a brother, just as he looked to her as a sister. There was no hate in their heart as they fought: merely two warriors who knew what they had to do. He had thrown in his lot with the Sith - a sin she had often overlooked, given her own friendship with not just one, but two such individuals. But she could no longer overlook it when he shed the blood of their people, and he understood this. Not once had he drawn his lightsaber, nor used his powers against her. To the end, he had fought her as an equal, and died for it. In this, she loved him still, carrying his own measure of honor to the end.

But Tardek was gone, and all she could do now was keep an arm looped around his form, clad in crimson beskar, to prevent him from slumping to the side - even as she kept her pistol levelled right at the intruder. Or perhaps would-be rescuer was more correct. His intentions were unknown to her, a fact she resented: beskar'gam sold incredibly well on the black market, and the opportunity was certainly within his grasp. For a long, tense moment, she merely stared at him, her breathing laboured - but her Y-visor betrayed nothing of her expression. Even now, on the verge of death, she remained a terrifying example of just how inhuman Mandalorians could appear to outsiders.

Killing him would solve nothing. Someone else would find her eventually, and take the two sets of armor for themselves. Trusting him was about her only option. Besides... if he meant to aid her, shooting him would be a most wretched reward for his actions. Slowly, the arm lowered, and the blaster pistol with it. Turning her head towards the body resting against her own, slumped on the ground as she was, she pushed her helmet-clad head against his own, whispering a farewell in Mandalorian. "Nu kyr'adyc, shi taab'echaaj'la."

Slowly, carefully, as if she might just break him, Jenn freed herself from his embrace, laying him to rest next to her, slumped against the same command console. It was only then that she turned to face the stranger, and moved a hand to her side. Warm blood under gloved fingers, and a hiss of pain. "Are you vulture come to feast, or a savior?"

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

For a moment, Gatz thought this day might be his last. He could dodge a blaster bolt, and often did, but not at this range. This Mandalorian had him dead to rights, and there was nothing to be done about it, other than hope she wasn't trigger happy. But he couldn't blame her for being wary, she'd just been in a fight to the death, and her only salvation was a stranger who could kill her as easily as save her.

He'd be suspicious too.

So Gatz watched, unmoving, as she bade farewell to her fellow Mandalorian in their language—a language he knew only pieces of, and certainly didn't understand any of the words she said. Then, she let go of the dead man, and thankfully lowered her blaster. That solved the problem of him getting shot. It didn't solve the problem of her bleeding out.

"I'm gonna pretend you didn't just compare me to an ugly bird. I'm told that I'm quite pretty." But his expression changed, knowing that this really wasn't the time for jokes, "but, no, I'm no vulture. I'm here to help. I have a medbay onboard my ship, and at least enough hands-on experience to patch you up long enough to get you to a proper hospital."

Despite her bleeding wound, and the urgency of the situation, Gatz made no attempt to move toward the woman. Not until she gave him consent to help her. Or until she passed out and he was forced to act to save her life. But not until one of those things came to pass. As much as he wanted to help the Mandalorian, he didn't feel like getting shot over it.

"You can trust me, and come with me while you're still conscious, or you can glare at me from behind your helmet until you pass out, and I can carry you to my ship. Either way, I'm going to patch you up."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: Drifting somewhere in Galactic Alliance space.
Objective: Trust in another to save her life.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Jenn considered her rescuer's words cautiously, still silent behind her helmet - and yet, the intensity of her gaze was undeniable. One hardly needed to see her eyes to feel it resting upon them, such was her sheer presence. With neither side making a move, the Mandalorian kept on staring at her would-be rescuer: where most would make a choice to save themselves, she remained... indecisive. Putting her trust in another was always a difficult task to make for a woman such as herself- but the stranger's words soon claimed a wheeze out of her. Most likely an attempt at a sound of amusement in the wake of his words.

"Under two conditions", asked the Mandalorian, all too aware that she was hardly in any position to make demands, yet doing so nonetheless. "Tardek's body is coming with us before we leave for good. You can help yourself to whatever else is in the ship. And if I end up dying before we part ways... give my armor to the Grandmaster. She will know what to do." And with that, the warrior brought her blaster pistol back to its holster, letting out a groan of pain and effort as she slowly mustered to her feet- with great difficult, still holding a hand on her side whilst using the other to catch herself on the command panel.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"You want me to give your armor to Val?"

The Mandalorians were at war with the Jedi. Why would this Mando want him to give her armor to the enemy? He would, of course. In fact, he was one of the few people in this galaxy that could actually fulfill that request. Gatz had Valery on speed dial. But the request itself didn't make a lick of sense to him.

But if it meant she'd let him treat her, he'd agree.

"Fine," Gatz acquiesced, "I don't want anything from your ship, but before we leave, I'll bring your friend aboard. But I'm treating you first. And I'll give your armor to Valery Noble if it comes to that, but it won't."

Gatz watched as the Mandalorian struggled to even stand, needing to brace herself on the console. They didn't have time for her to slowly limp her way out of here, not while she was bleeding out. Not when he needed to get her to the medbay as soon as possible.

The Mandalorian would not like what he was about to do.

"Sorry, but you really don't have the time or strength to be stubborn right now."

Gatz drew on the Force, and willed it into his body, augmenting his strength. He approached the Mandalorian woman, still struggling just to stand...

And attempted to swoop her up into his arms, to carry her bridal style.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: Drifting somewhere in Galactic Alliance space.
Objective: Trust in another to save her life.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

"Yes."

The answer was practically instantaneous. There were no doubts here, no pondering, no cautiousness. She knew Valery would do what was necessary if it came down to it. And with her rescuer acquiescing to her demands, she gave an appreciative nod, shortly followed by a hiss of pain. "Good", uttered the Mandalorian simply. Her energy was better spent pulling herself along rather than explaining why she wanted to see her most valuable possession handed over to someone who was, for all intents and purposes, fighting on the other side of a war she had embroiled herself in as a member of the Mandalorian Enclave.

Or at least, she figured it was. In the wake of his words, there was no mistaking how eerily her helmed snapped towards him as he used the Force: untrained and unaware of her true nature as she was, the Ersansyr could feel the shift in the Force, her stance betraying just how tense she was... and then, to her shock and confusion, she found herself swooped up into his arms. She neither had the strength nor the will to resist, clearly dumbfounded by such a development. She sputtered out a protest, squirmed a little, before finally relenting.

It was certainly one of the nicer ways to be carried off, and she was ostensibly in no shape to walk. No matter how humiliating it felt to be carried off like some dainty princess.

"... Thanks."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

As expected, the Mandalorian wasn't exactly pleased at being bridal carried. That being said, outside of some sputtering and awkward shifting, she didn't really fight him on it. Gatz had half expected a blaster to be pulled on him. It was nice to know she trusted him enough not to fuss too much, or at least, that she realized she was dead if she didn't let him help.

"No problem. I'm Gatz, Captain of The Red Night, and your knight in shining red leather. And who might my damsel be?"

Of course, being that he was Gatz Derrevar, he had to make a dumb joke to relieve the tension of the moment. It was an unavoidable part of who he was; a piece of himself that couldn't be excised.

He carried her down the carbon scored hallway of the drifting vessel, and past the docking ring into his own ship. From there, it was only a few steps to the passenger cabins—of which there was four. He stepped into the cabin next to his own, which he'd converted into cramped, but well-stocked medical bay, complete with a medical cot.

He set the Mandalorian woman down on it, and took one quick look at the bleeding wound she was trying to staunch. And he noticed a problem.

"I know you Mandalorians practically sleep in your beskar, but I can't treat your wound while you're still in your armor. It's... gonna have to come off."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Trust in another to save her life.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Jenn was... undeniably uncomfortable. Physical contact was uncomfortable, as was socializing: embracing a dying brother she had killed in combat came far more easily than a handshake with a stranger, much less being carried like this. Even with the helmet in the way, the sheer weight of her glare made it oh-so very obvious that the wounded warrior was giving her savior the stink eye for his words. But, he was saving her life, after all... she figured she could spare him the admonishment for his words, no matter how they made her scowl. "Jenn Kryze", answered the Mandalorian laconically.

Relieved as she was to be given aid, the smith tensed up almost immediately at the mention of removing her armor. She was stiff, almost palpably uncomfortable, and her presence in the Force... akin to a roiling wave threatening to engulf all around her. No matter how ad-hoc the medbay was, she knew it would save her life - if only she could let Gatz remove her beskar'gam and tend to her wounds properly. Her days as a zealous follower of the ancient ways were behind her now, she had no reason to hide away under it so fiercely... other than the intense discomfort that accompanied her self-preception.

"Fine." She practically spat the words out - mostly due to the pain, but in no small part because of the discomfort she felt as she brought her fingers to the straps and buckles keeping the armor plates in places, staining the gorgeous blue of her armor with her own blood as she began ridding herself of it. Staying awake was proving to be difficult, and unconsciousness in such a vulnerable state was unacceptable to her. She was already taking a leap of faith. So, she chose to strike up conversation, if only to keep herself awake.

"You don't look like a Jedi - I've fought enough to know. How'd you do... that, back there?"

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

Jenn was clearly not happy with him asking her to undress, but Gatz could hardly blame her. If some dude he didn't know told him to strip, he wouldn't be very happy either. In fact, that situation would probably end with him pointing a blaster at someone. So, really, he ought to be happy that she was only extremely upset at the idea, and not currently trying to kill him.

He'd hate to end up like that other Mandalorian.

"Undersuit is gonna have to come off too. If you don't like that, you can shoot me after I sew you shut."

Gatz was starting to think that he was going to get shot today, after all. If only he had the time to leave Valery a message, so she knew to come bury his body when this woman was done with him. Or, actually, he supposed he could just let Briana know through their bond. That was probably more efficient. But Gatz decided that he wouldn't bother her until he was certain this Mando was about to murder him.

But, Jenn's question pulled his mind away from all of that.

"I grew up in the Temple on Coruscant, actually, before I left." Gatz admitted freely, "but more than Jedi and Sith can feel the Force. It flows through all living things, binding us together. Even you and me, and we don't even know each other. And some of us are what we call 'Force-sensitive.' We can feel that flow, and align ourselves with it, and it lets us do cool things like carry Mandalorian warriors clad in full beskar."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Trust in another to save her life.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

An unamused groan was Gatz's reward for his words - but, at least, his words were doing a good enough job of keeping her awake, given how much they annoyed her. In an endearing sort of way, she supposed: there was not an ounce of malice in him, only... mischief. Mischief would have been infuriating in the past, but now, it merely irritated her. "Don't tempt me, kid", warned the Mandalorian with a huff. And with that, she reluctantly tossed the amor plating aside. She had no time to show more reverence to her own armor: clad in the undersuit as she was, save for the shoulderpads, helmet, and greaves, she turned to face away from him. "Zipper in the back. You'll have to get rid of the jetpack, then the back-plate. Simple as pulling it down after that."

Jenn had to consciously remind herself that Gatz was very much trying to save her life not to lose her composure. At least her helmet was still in the way - she was afforded some privacy, no matter how slight it might be compared to how vulnerable she was making herself. Had her rescuer been Mando'ade, the discomfort would have been... lesser. But, then again, she figured she should be grateful she was receiving any sort of rescue rather than being sold into slavery or merely finished off.

"A helpful trick", conceded the Mandalorian through gritted teeth. "Suppose I just have a habit of running into your sort, then. Just my luck."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"You know, usually, when a woman asks me to help her undress, I have to buy her dinner first."

Gatz wished that hadn't just slipped from his mouth. He was most certainly going to die after this.

Even so, he made himself busy removing the jetpack. Next came the backplate, which fell to the floor after he undid its straps. And that left only the zipper. Gatz didn't have time for trepidation, or hesitation, not with Jenn bleeding out. So he grabbed the zipper, and pulled it down, revealing the pale skin of her back. He stepped away after that, if only to give her a little space after a strange man had halfway undressed her.

"Pull it down, and get on the cot. All jokes aside, I'll try and make this as quick and clinical as I can."

Gatz moved to the counter and cabinets near the cot, pulling out clean rags, antiseptic, bandages, bacta, and a needle to sew the wound shut. He was no doctor, not really, but his years on Nar Shaddaa had taught him a handful of useful skills. Cleaning and sewing the wound he could do. He just had to hope that her internal organs hadn't been screwed up. He couldn't do anything about that.

Once Jenn was on the table, he handed a cup of water, and a couple of pills.

"For the pain," Gatz explained, "don't act tough. Take them."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Trust in another to save her life.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

His words were met by silence. Long, tense silence, the kind that makes one realize just how loud background noise can be. The buzzing of lights, the humming of fans, the whirring of servos. And, although her back is turned to him, the Mandalorian's response is glacial enough to make up for the lack of eye contact.

"If you have some odd fantasy of being murdered by a Mandalorian, I can oblige."

To her credit, she kept quiet as he removed her jetpack and backplate: but she could not hold back a sharp inhale when the zipper of her form-fitting undersuit was pulled down, revealing her creamy pale skin. Redheads never tanned well, and Jenn was ostensibly no exception, Ersansyr or not. There was strength to be found in her form, as one would expect of a warrior: but there was elegance to be found here as well. One could almost call her lithe, if not for the fact that she could probably beat a Jedi into a pulp with her bare hands.

A disquieting thought, that, considering the fact that the gauntlets were showing some signs of being battered...

With a sharp inhale, the Mandalorian peeled the undersuit off of her upper half, letting it hang off her waist for now, before doing as she was bid. Laying down on the cot and staring at the ceiling made it easier for her not to acknowledge how naked she was. And, for once, she was literally naked, rather than figuratively, too!

The water and pills were met with a sneer, a mouth open and ready to argue and tell him that she would absolutely not take any sort of painkillers- but then her mouth closed, her cheeks flushed in absolute embarrassment before the whole situation, and she resolved to end the painfully awkward situation by reaching out for the pills, tossing them into her mouth and swallow them with a long, greedy gulp of water. The more she argued, the longer it would take, and the more mortifying this entire encounter would be.

Relax. It's clinical. This is a man graciously choosing to save your life. It's only as weird as you make it.

"I don't act tough", grumbled the redhead.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"Eh, there are worse ways to go."

Gatz didn't miss the sharp breaths Jenn took, as she readied herself. It seemed that even big bad Mandalorian warriors could be made nervous. In any other situation, he might have found humor in that. Not this one, though. This situation was a little too awkward, and a little too close to death for him to find anything like that amusing.

Even the bad jokes he made were less funny, and more tension breakers.

Gatz took a minute to wash his hands in the basin, and to prepare a few wet rags. He pulled a pair of disposable gloves on, and turned to face Jenn, who was in the process of swallowing the pills he gave her. Her noticed her bare form, devoid of armor and jumpsuit, how could he not? But he turned his eyes to the wound on her side, and kept them there.

"Yes, yes, you are tough." Gatz shook his head, "I know. Now hold still, Kryze. If you move too much, it'll make this take longer."

Gatz set to work cleaning the blood away with a couple of wet rags. Once that was done, he used one hand to hold either side of her wound together, while the other used a needle and needle driver to lace a couple of interrupted sutures into the wound. It was a quick process, as he promised, and he wrapped things up by pressing a sterilized bandage over the stitched wound.

"That'll do for now, but I still need to get you to a proper medical center." Gatz turned to toss the rags and his gloves away, "you can get dressed again, but I'd leave the armor off for now. It'll save us some time if you tear a suture, and we have to do this again."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Trust in another to save her life.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

"Not if I get creative."

The banter was welcome. It was not particularly amusing, but it gave her a chance to think about something else than the situation she was in. Asking him to work silently and keeping quiet herself would only make her more aware of... everything. She could feel his gaze on her, and the sight of his hands brought no small amount of comfort. Surgical, disposable gloves were clinical, and they would allow her to distance herself from the vulnerability she felt, the sense of being exposed in more ways than one.

"Haven't been called by my Clan name in a while", spoke the Mandalorian with a hiss as her savior made good use of the needle, his motions speaking of practice. At least the painkillers made the sensation uncomfortable, but bearable. That he was hardly a licensed surgeon mattered little to her: she could easily tell that he had acquired some first-hand experience, enough to be handy with the tools needed to stabilize someone's condition, and so she begrudgingly accepted his skill. "... and you're not the worst medic either."

Stitched and bandaged as she was, the immediate danger was handled, and so she allowed herself to exhale slowly. "Can you drop me off in Enclave space, if you intend to get me treated? I'm not getting imprisoned, and I'd rather not get myself shot after you went and fixed me up. Waste of your time and efforts." Slipping back into her undersuit a little too hurriedly, a wince pulled at her features- and she had no choice but to sit up on the cot, coughing into her hand. "If you could just. Zip it right back up for me? Please."

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"Haven't been called by my Clan name in a while."

"And I haven't had a Mandalorian get topless for me in a while. So I guess we both get to relive our glory days."

Crass jokes aside, as soon as he'd finished placing the bandage over Jenn's wound, Gatz turned his back to allow her some privacy to redress herself. He made himself busy with putting medical supplies away, just to make sure she had plenty of time to make herself decent. It was only when she asked for his help in zipping her back up, that Gatz turned to look at her once more.

Wordlessly, Gatz gave her a small nod, and pulled the zipper of undersuit back up.

"Name a planet and I'll take you there," Gatz sat down in the chair next to her cot, "I... understand why you wouldn't want to go to a facility in Alliance space."

The Mandalorians were at war with the Alliance, after all. And helping one was probably considered treason, at least by some people, but Gatz wasn't going to leave someone to bleed out and die, war or no war. Besides, citizenship aside, he wasn't exactly loyal to the Galactic Alliance or the Jedi Order. He just happened to be friends with a couple of people who were, and he was pretty certain they'd have helped out Jenn too, despite the conflict.

"You should stay in here, though," Gatz insisted, "lay down and get some rest. I'll collect your friend's body—and his beskar'gam and weapons will be left untouched, you have my word."

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Trust in another to save her life.
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

Before she could really think of stopping herself, the Mandalorian let out a snort of amusement in the wake of the good samaritan's words. It was in line with the rest of his jests, but with her condition no longer critical, she found that his jokes were a little less... frustrating. Maybe she should take things a little easier for once. Sit back and indulge the pilot's sense of humor. "Whatever floats your boat. It's your pelvis on the line, not mine."

Thankful for Gatz's respect for her privacy, Jenn was all too happy to slip back into her undersuit, no matter how form-fitting it may be - it certainly beat being naked. And when her savior zipped it right back up, she gave a slight nod of her head, turning to look his way as he sat down next to her. "Thanks. You can bring me over to Hefi - it's far enough in the Enclave that I should be fine to recover in time for the... inevitable counter-attack." Her expression betrayed some bitterness, the words leading to something of a grimace from the warrior. "You might want to get away from Enclave space for a little while after that. I'd hate to find you in the crossfire when they strike back against us."

With a weary sigh, she turned her gaze towards the discarded plates of armor along the floor, fighting the urge to get off the cot and start assembling them. It could wait for later: with the adrenaline fading, she found it more and more difficult to keep her eyes open. "Thank you." Her voice was... not quite as harsh this time around. There was a measure of softness here, a genuine sense of gratitude. "You didn't have to save me. Or agree to take me to Mandalorian space. Or recover my brother's beskar'gam. But, you... did."

It wasn't long before Jenn finally stopped clinging oh-so stubbornly to consciousness, finally passing out on the cot of Gatz's makeshift medical bay.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"Finally! Someone with something resembling a sense of humor."

But Gatz had to stop himself from making more inappropriate jokes. He'd made enough to defuse the tension for now, and he didn't want to go so far that he ended up making Jenn uncomfortable. One: because that was just a scummy thing to do. And two: because, most days, he liked being alive. So, satisfied that he'd dealt with her wound for now, and had survived the effort, Gatz let humor fall to the wayside.

Jenn's voice took a softer tone, at least for a hardened warrior like she was.

"You're welcome," Gatz stood from his chair, "get some sleep. I'll handle the rest."

---

Hours later, Gatz sat in the pilot's seat, feet kicked up on the console as he watched the blue streaks of hyperspace fly by.

Jenn was, to his knowledge, still asleep in the medbay. And, as promised, Gatz had reclaimed her brother's body. He'd left him lying in the bed in one of the two spare passenger cabins. He... didn't have a casket on hand, and he didn't really know what else to do with the Mandalorian's corpse. Setting him down in the cargo bay probably would have been the logical thing to do; he was dead, and didn't need the comfort of a bed.

But that seemed wrong to Gatz. So, despite the fact that the man's blood had ruined the sheets and mattress of one of his spare beds, Gatz had still opted to lay him down in one of the cabins. It was the only real respect he could give to a warrior, without having knowledge of Mandalorian customs.

 

[Jenn Kryze]

​

LOCATION: The Red Night
Objective: Rest up
Equipment: Beskar'gam I Blaster Pistol I Blaster Carbine I Deflector Shield
Tags: [ Gatz Derrevar ]

"This is about as close as it gets, so you'll have to be content with that, I'm afraid."

Gatz was hardly the kind of man she would choose for a venture beyond Enclave territory, but it... hardly mattered to her. He was a kind soul in a galaxy populated by power-hungry warlords, cutthroat smugglers and merciless crusaders, and that meant the world to her. Content with the knowledge that she was in good hands, Jenn drifted off into the welcoming arms of a peaceful slumber, unperturbed and calm. She was fast asleep before her savior had the time to leave his ship and step through Tardek's own.

And when she came to a few hours later, the disoriented smith found the sight of the medbay around her to be a comforting one. The ad-hoc nature of it was hardly a worry for one so used to roughing it out in wild space. Allowing herself a generous handful of minutes to bask in the knowledge that she was safe and undoubtedly en route to Hefi, where she would easily find treatment for her injury at the hands of an accredited doctor, the stubborn warrior then slowly mustered the will to move over to a sitting position, before finally standing up. Walking was... not quite as much of an ordeal as before, even though she was quickly reminded to take things slow.

Looking for Gatz throughout the ship, she was quick to find him, lounging in his pilot's chair. Leaning against the doorframe, she cleared her throat to alert him to her presence. It was only fair: creeping up on him was not exactly something she wanted to do to the man who had saved her life.

"Can't help but notice that my beskar'gam is still here and my throat isn't slit, so I suppose I'll have to give you a five stars", quipped the smith in an attempt of her own at humor.

 

[Gatz Derrevar]

Ship: The Red Night
Weapons: Blaster Pistol
Tag: Jenn Kryze

"Eh, I don't make a habit of killing women after they get naked for me. Seems kinda rude."

Gatz kicked his feet off the console, and spun to face Jenn. She looked a lot better than she had a few hours ago, but then, she'd been bleeding out at the time. So, really, how could she not look better? Point was, Gatz was glad to see her upright and walking, even if she was probably taking it slow. That meant that she probably wasn't bleeding internally.

He still wanted her to see a proper doctor though.

"How are you feeling?"

There were a couple of topics he wanted to cover with her. How she felt, physically, was a good place to start. But he also wanted to know when the last time she ate or drank had been. Plus, there was the body laying in one of his passenger cabins. Gatz was sure that Jenn would want to see him for herself, to be sure that his armor and weapons had been left untouched. She might have been the one who killed him, but it seemed she still believed he was worthy of being honored the way Mandalorians honored their fallen.

Gatz didn't understand the specifics of her culture, but he understood showing respect for the dead. He'd never been particularly good at that, unfortunately. If he had, he'd have visited Mom and Dad's graves more often.