To Heal A Gaping Wound [Nara]

[Lief]

Dxun had been and gone, Ossus had been a disaster, and now Shor was left without a purpose.

Empty, like a deflated balloon, the boy tried to make sense of it all. Everything he had ever been geared towards, all of his training, every bounty he had taken, had been in service to this. And now it was over. Blaise was not a hostage, a prisoner, he had not been manipulated or brain washed. He was simply ... a Jedi.

And that was something that he could not wrap his head around.

Did this mean that in fact it was he who had been duped, by the Order who had trained him? Their agenda had been anti-Jedi long before Shor had been sent to them. Anti-Force User. Was it he that had been brainwashed?

Certainly not.

But there was no denying the evidence.

Blaise had not wanted to leave with him. Now, without his twin all over again, he had to refind his feet in the Galaxy. But there was still an underlying seething hate for the Jedi that he couldn't quite comprehend. They had taken Blaise from him, from his family, and Shor always thought that was the issue.

But maybe it wasn't. Maybe the issue now was that Blaise was happy with that decision which had been made for him. His brother did not want to come home.

Bitter, Shor found himself pacing random streets on Ossus, wide eyed and disenchanted, eyes downcast. For the first time in his memory he wasn't on the hunt. He wasn't looking for purpose. He was entirely dissatisfied with himself.

He had to get away from this world, from the Jedi. From Blaise. But in this state he couldn't even remember where he'd docked his ship.

[member='Nara Basaar']

 

[Nara Basaar]

"You promised your support!" Nara said in a demanding tone.

Nara was not one to usually leave the comfort of The Resistance's secret base, however the lack of medical supplies forced her hand. Nara was the chief medic to The Resistance, it was her job to keep the men and women who served it alive and well. Of course being a small organization on the constant run from the First Order was not as glamorous as it sounded. Every day life for the Resistance fighters was hard and with all forms of supplies and equipment dwindling, they had to swallow their pride and seek out old contacts in hopes of support.

Nara was staring into the eyes of Rodian. Nara had met this Rodian before and it was then that he promised to supply her with some medical supplies (for a price of course). Nara was not sure why, but this Rodian had seemed to have changed his mind refusing to aid her and the Resistance in anyway.

"It wont be me, but one of us will make you regret this" Nara said to the Rodian before turning around and walking off. One of her comrades would have lasered him right there, but Nara was not a violent person. Disgruntled Nara made her way through the streets, bumping into few passerbys as she went. Noticing a small crate on the ground, the Medic decided to sit on it while she tried to think of a way to remedy this situation.

 

[Nara Basaar]

[member="Shor Laurent"] (forgot to mention you)

 

[Lief]

He kicked a stray rock and watched as it clattered along the path. His mind was a mess, his focus gone entirely. What was left for him now? If not the drive to return Blaise, then what?

A broken man walked the path that day. A broken man amidst a drift of many others. He staggered as a child ran past him, almost into him, and swayed as he became suddenly overwhelmed by the present. He hadn't been focusing, now it all hit him at once.

Shor fell to the ground, and it was there that he lingered. His head was in his hands, people passed him by with wary eyes and not enough decency to ask after his wellbeing. For all they knew he was just another drunk.

He felt like just another drunk.

He beat his fist against the duracrete, over and over until he was certain he'd done some serious damage to the hand. Pain ached along his arm, diverting his attention for a small time. Blood dripped through his clenched fist. It was nothing compared to the feeling in his heart. He felt betrayed. He felt humiliated.

By his own brother, no less.

Maybe alcohol would provide the swiftest solution.

Maybe being a drunk wouldn't be all that bad?

[member="Nara Basaar"]