Shiraya Falls
Mayday. Mayday. This is the Frigate Daystar.
We are under fire from hostile, unidentified forces.
Our shields are failing.
We have families on board. Refugees.
Our fighter escort has been destroyed.
We will attempt to flee through hyperspace.
Coordinates are attached to this message.
Please.
Anyone that hears this.
Please send zhzzzzzzzzzkt...
Through the haze, the allure of the heat rising from the grounds surface was too much. For the second time, Brandyn had been convinced that it was a pool of water. Instead. He was gifted a mouthful of sand.
His head hurt. It made it hard to realize just how much everything else hurt. His ribs. His left arm hanging limply at his side. The noticeable patches of dried blood encrusting his torn and singed tan Jedi robes. He wasn't really walking either. It was more a one arm assisted crawl across the desert floor.
He had forgotten how he had gotten here. He assumed the billowing smoke from the frigate some hundred or so meters to the south had something to do with it. But he didn't remember being on the vessel. He didn't remember much of anything. Except a face. A woman's face. Youthful. Framed by straight dark hair. Almond-shaped brown eyes that seemed like endless pools of hope. A hope that felt like a distant dream. Who the young woman was continued to evade him. Was she on the ship?
"Hey!"
His yell back at the burning wreckage was came out coarse. Sand and blood spitting further than his words. He started to crawl towards the wreckage.
His crawl took him over a path that was becoming well travelled. For it was the same route he had taken the last time he turned back towards the wreckage, and the time before that. Each time his pace slowed. His cries grew fainter as he yelled at any possible survivors. Hope drove him forward, but his body was wearing out.
Brandyn would not make it as far as the place where he had previously remembered the crash, and turned to flee the horror that awaited if he dared to venture into the smoldering carcass of the Daystar. As he rolled down an embankment, just as he had previously done, he found energy finally evaporate. Eyes rolled back. And the universe closed its eyes upon him.
Even the burning hot sun went dark to his mind.
Drowning.
You are drowning.
Wake up.
You are drowning. You are going to die.
Wake up!
Coughing and spluttering, Brandyn almost rolled off the large lizard like creature that he found himself draped across. Wait? No. He couldn't role off. He was tied down to the beast. He felt the coolness of warm water across his sand and sun burnt face even as he gasped for breath. His mind had told him he was underwater. Reality was less refreshing. Still, he found himself catching every drop of water that ran off his face.
"Hu cla twell. Hu cla twell en dova nokru."
The words made no sense to Brandyn. But he tried to listen more closely, see if he could pick up anything that sounded familiar. His captors were clearly pleased to see that he had awoken. He was not pleased however at the hood that they were approaching him with.
"Nahg."
His tongue stuck to the roof of his mouth. The hood, of loosely woven fabric, was pulled over his head. Why did they think this necessary? He could barely see as it was.
His mind was still a dense fog. Beyond the initial desire for water and to be free, Brandyn did not have much left to care about staying awake.
"Cla!"
There was a sharp slapping sound, and the creature that bore the wounded Jedi upon its back reared slightly, before setting into a slow, cumbersome pace.
The young Padawan came to face down in a musty pile of old cloth. It was apparently a bed. But small relief from the cobblestone floor beneath. Brandyn groaned, and tried to role over. His left arm was not present to help though, and in a moment of panic he looked down to see if it was still attached to his body. To his relief, it was, just tied up with a makeshift sling.
He pushed himself over with his right arm instead.
"Gaaaaaaaaaah."
Everything hurt. All at once. The sharp exhaling set Brandyn off into a fit of coughing. His bare arm came up to cover his mouth, and when he pulled away, small specks of congealed blood were stuck to his arm hair. That wasn't good. Or was the congealed part better than the alternative. He slumped down on to his back with a wince, his shoulder hitting something that moved.
Glancing over he saw a poorly bandaged head, and battered body beside him. He tried to reach out, but found his body uncooperative. Instead, he reached out with the Force, connecting with the individual to see if it was someone that had been with him on the...yes...on this ship with him. He had been on the ship.
He tried to sigh. But he hurt too much. The moment of understanding was indeed worth a sigh. And he indeed felt the irony that he would not be able to physically slap himself as he had promised upon his last meeting with the woman sharing the cell with him.
What was her name?
Caralyn?
Amberlyn?
Lynlyn?
Oh...
"Umbralyn! Umbralyn...are you awake?" He said, whispering to avoid attention from beyond the room.
| Emberlyn Rekali |
