Private The Price of Everything

[Trent Perris]

Outfit
Protective Utility Clothing | Jacket | Huckleberry Belt | Boots
Concealed Blaster | Blaster Pistol | Voxyn Rifle | Blackout Batons
Lodestone Devices
Wristcomp | Wristband
Speeder Bike
The Harpy​

For what it had gone through, the Harpy had come away from the Kashyyyk evacuation no worse for wear.

An engine had taken some strafing fire. Limited the maneuvering vanes and locked them into place after the need to be agile had passed. The shields had dropped below his comfort level and a few panels would need to be replaced. But it had weathered that particular storm.

But it had held. And kept those it needed to safe in the process.

A handful of different wookie families in his cargo hold with an assortment of different needs met. All of them grateful in their language and giving him hearty pats of appreciation for his willingness to arrive in their time of need.

All of those pleasantries weighing heavily on his shoulders as the ship A.I. plotted their course forward in his absence from the cockpit.

Crouched low and sitting on his heels against the wall that led to the medical room.

Eyes locked on the floor as the images of that burning planet played in his mind. The outstretched hands of those he had not reached in time.

The homes he had seen both already charred and blackened beyond use and those that were still ablaze. Highlighted against the nature that had been disturbed and removed from the way of things.

The contingent of Irregulars from the Foundation had dispersed in a protective measure to make sure they hadn't been followed. A designated rendezvous point after a set amount of time had passed to make sure any tracking had either passed them by or had missed their window of opportunity to chase the herd.

Another fifteen standards, and this group would be on their way to a safe location for proper medical attention and given the chance to designate where they would like to be transported to.

Or allow the Foundation to bring them into the fold if they so desired.

He wasn't about to share that bit of information until they made it back to safety. Not that he could speak their language anyhow. Relying on the man he'd picked up to translate when he had been available. But leaving him to whatever he desired otherwise with the scene that he had witnessed on pickup.

"You were plenty fast ol' girl."

His voice barely above a whisper. Directed to the ship he called home with a heavy sigh. Allowing his eyes to drift to the medical room door before standing up with a slight grunt from sitting too long.

"My fault this time."

Kei Amadis​

 

[Kei Amadis]

Following

Stasis.

There and not. Frozen. No breath.

That was Kei.

He knelt beside a red-haired woman in actual stasis, her hands resting peacefully in front of her, her eyes closed tight. His silver armor was bent and twisted, his body underneath likely the same. The medical droid or attendants knew better than to approach him, choosing instead to focus on her, one look from him told them all they needed to know.

Never enough time. The days you were late, the moments work kept you away. The times you told yourself, We'll meet tomorrow. I'm sorry, my love. I need to be gone another day. Another week. Another hour. Or the promises you didn't keep, the small things you should have done better, to let them know I love you when you had the chance.

His helmet clattered to the floor as he set it aside, his hand coming to rest on the stasis pod, standing in grief. They were trying to save her but... He never looked away. To him, she was the only thing in existence.

No response.

To anyone with even a hint of Force sensitivity, Kei might as well have been pouring every ounce of energy in the galaxy into her. He wasn't a great healer, but he did what he could. His concentration never wavered—not for a second—until he knew he had given everything he had to give, his body visibly drained.

My fault this time.

Whether or not Kei heard him, Trent might never know. Amadis wouldn't shift for an earthquake.

The weight of the moment deepened. Whose fault was it? The ship that had tried to rescue, or the man who thought he could defy the universe? The man who had spent his life cheating death, only to fail his family when it mattered most?

Nothing changed or moved. It should never have been her, it should have been him. He reached into the stasis pod, his hands numbing from the static as he wrapped them around hers. He leaned down, pressing a kiss to her forehead, then raised a palm to cup her cheek.

"My wildcard and my heart."

How many times should he have died? Each time, he had come home. To her, their family, and eventually their children. Retiring to Kashyyyk, hoping for some measure of peace, when they had become his entire world. Their love had healed each other and built their lives as a family, drawing others to their side to build their community. Dead.

Amadis's gaze lifted to the doorway, locking eyes with Trent. Where was that peace now? "Should have been me." The voice was gruff, overladen with grief. He should have died defending his home, never her. What kind of man was he to let it come to this?

Trent Perris

 

[Trent Perris]

As dark as his own thoughts had been, he could only imagine the feelings the man in the room before him was dealing with.

Whoever it was in the pod had deemed it worth enough to break silence. To give everything to make sure they made it aboard and received aid first. The wounds and other damage a secondary thought to the one being cared for like the galaxy itself hinged on their survival.

A feeling Trenton had yet to understand in a way that could allow him to empathize without feeling like a fraud.

A hint as to what the two were when the words carried across the near silence of the top deck. Sweet words that made it absolutely clear that whoever it was, had been his world. And now that world had been brought to silence. A state of living death. His eyes turned down once more as the fear of loss took hold.

What if that had been his own family?

Imagining his own bound to the medical stasis needed to keep them alive. Of bearing the hope that they might return to share in the moments of time. To share in laughter, and to simply be beside them in their moments of need. But this man had lost a portion of that comfort. Had lost a piece of his world that Trenton had failed to arrive soon enough to keep from such a situation.

Sure.

He'd got them to safety.

But what was that worth when one clung to life and the other had to bear the weight of his failure.

His eyes rising in time to lock with the man as he spoke. Felt the bitterness in his words as wonder made him pick apart the words. Pick apart the feelings and think for barely a second as he spoke.

"I feel I'd be hearing the same from them if you was the one in that pod." Sorrow lacing his tone as he tried in some way to comfort him.

Suddenly unsure if he was the right person to utter such words when he only knew them for a sparce few minutes.

"You were both there. Both helping how you could. If you weren't, we wouldn't have the souls aboard that we do." It felt cheap saying those words. Felt like a poor consolation for what he had lost. But it was what he could offer at the moment. Aware he might bear the brunt of anger that wasn't meant for him but was the only outlet available.

Kei Amadis​

 

[Kei Amadis]

Trent Perris

If she were here. Elara, "if she were" standing here.

He pictured what she'd say, how she'd be. His vision blurred, eyes clouded with tears, a face plastered with tormenting grief. Family burned away like a charred wreck. She would have torn the room apart—her spirit was fire, wild and untamed.

His face hardened to stone as he watched the stillness before him. Pressing his hand once more to the pod as it sealed shut, his fingers curled into a fist. "Couldn't hold her."

Amadis turned and struck the wall so hard it shattered not only his hand but a good chunk of the bulkhead.

Silence.

Bitter silence and lies he couldn't swallow.

"Brought the guns down harder."

The truth was, they might have escaped if he hadn't tried to draw their fire. If he had stepped down—just once—as protector, as guardian, maybe they would still be alive. If he'd been another man.

He clenched his broken hand, turning it over in his charred armor.

"They're all dead."

Both those slaughtered on the planet by senseless orders—And soon, those who had given them.

Zacka. Patches. aunts, uncles, friends, his son Mathayus. Elara. He'd carve their names into the bodies to come.

"And I killed them." A promise.