#eyrie lancaster

[clevermird]

Last chapter is up, featuring the Jedi Knight and my attempt to capture Miraluka Force Sight in text

Title: The Road to Coruscant

Prompt: Allies @shortfictionweeklychallenge

Rating: Teen

Characters: Feyte Saien (female Jedi Consular), Mallena Dayne, (female Republic Trooper), Eyrie Lancaster (female Jedi Knight), Jessasi Silver (female Smuggler), Aric Jorgan, Corso Riggs, T7-01, Qyzen Fess

Pairing(s): None

Four young women find themselves on a ship bound for Courscant. Each brings their own companion, their own mission, and their own past, but when the Sith Empire attacks their ship, they find themselves in an alliance, and their biggest problem isn't what they'll do when they reach their destination, but if they're going to reach it at all!  

This time, Eyrie tries her best to save the galaxy single-handedly and the team attempts to escape the ship

Text under cut

Hanging over the edge of the tractor beam control platform, Eyrie felt the droid flicker out of existence as the electricity from the console destroyed its circuits. Machines didn’t register in the Force the same way organic beings did, but she could still perceive them as a sort of hum.

Feyte poked her head over the edge of the platform. “Do you need help up? Are you hurt?”

“I have it.” Eyrie swung herself back onto the flat surface and retrieved her lightsabers, hooking them to her belt over either hip. Not that they would stay there for long. Already she could feel more Imperial troops on their way.

The smaller, higher-pitched hum that was T7 approached her. “Jedi=OK?”

“Fine.” To tell the truth, she had probably sprained her wrist catching hold of the edge, but it wasn’t important enough to stop. She could fight, and that was all that mattered. T7 and the others followed her down the ramp on the other side of the now-defunct tractor beam.

A quartet of Imperial troops ran toward them. Pulling her lightsabers off her belt, Eyrie launched herself into the air, aiming for the center of the group. The blades activated with a familiar sound and a slight change in the balance of the hilts. She let her knees absorb the impact of her landing and channeled it outward into a kinetic blast that knocked the nearest two men off their feet.

Straightening, she sprinted toward one of the ones still standing, leaving T7 and the special forces troopers to finish off the incapacitated pair. Blaster bolts flew around her, sharp needles of sensation that filled the air with a stink of ozone. A quick slash with her uninjured hand and the Imperial fell, bisected.

Qyzen Fess had already taken care of the final soldier, so she switched her sabers off, but kept them in her hands. They had to find a way back to the shuttle before the Imperials marshaled themselves enough to attack them in force.

Her wrist throbbed. Think, Eyrie. These people are counting on you. The grand moff would send troops to block off the most obvious path. “T7, do you know of an alternate route back to the hanger?”

“T7=checking ship’s map.”

While he did, she turned her senses outward. Feyte bustled around, tending to the ship captain’s scratched lekku and checking the others over. Despite the pain she was in, the captain and her mercenary companion seemed to be in good spirits. Probably riding their success with the droid. The two troopers were less jovial, though. As Eyrie stepped over to consult with them, T7 beeped.

“What did you find?” she said quietly.

“T7=found a way. Way=difficult+lots of troops. T7+Jedi=can do it.”

“Which way?” Before he could tell her, another ripple came through the Force. More danger.

“Imperials are coming from the west elevator and the hall back to the control room,” said Feyte.

“How many?” Feyte’s force skills were more honed than hers, at least when it came to sensing details outside of the immediate area. Eyrie worked in impressions, quicker when it came to acting and moving, but her masters had been chronically frustrated when it came to her ability to perceive specifics or explain why she acted and despite years of work, she’d never quite been able to remedy the weakness.

“Fifteen or twenty from each direction.”

One of the troopers, the male, swore. “Don’t think we can take on that many.”

“Way to hanger=west elevator.”

“Follow me!” Eyrie shouted. She would get them out of this if she had to cut through the deck plating herself. “T7, start checking for another path.”

They ran across the huge room to the only other exit. Piling into the elevator, they managed to get the door shut just as the first wave of troops burst into view. Someone pressed the button and Eyrie felt the car slide down, like a breeze blowing up onto her face. It shuddered to a halt and she made certain she had as free of an area to maneuver as possible before opening the door. The hallway was deserted.

“Where are we?” the female trooper asked.

Feyte bent down, probably to examine a map T7 displayed. “The detention level.”

“That would explain the dim lights, dark colors, and generally oppressive vibe. Oh, wait, I just described the entire ship. Never mind.”

Eyrie decided to ignore the captain’s inane banter. “How can we get back to the hanger from here?”

“It looks like we can go through the garbage chute, then take another elevator right up to the hanger deck,” the female trooper replied.

“Wait, what? Are you crazy?” the captain said. “Those things are like a hundred feet deep on a ship this big. And who knows what they throw down there.”

“It’s that or turn yourself into the Imperials,” Eyrie said. They were wasting time here.

“Wait,” said Feyte. “What about the prisoners?”

“What about them?”

“What if some of them are Republic citizens? Or even just innocent people? We can’t just leave them behind, we have to save them!”

She was right. It was a Jedi’s duty. “T7, come with me. Feyte, take everyone else to the garbage chute and use the Force to make sure they get down safely. Don’t wait for me.”

Feyte’s hesitation hung around her in clouds, but she didn’t object. As the rest of the group moved off in the direction of the chute, Eyrie led T7 toward the rest of the detention level. Why aren’t there any enemies? Most of the troops on board were probably tied up chasing them, but surely some would be left to guard important resources.

Wait. There was a concentration of life up ahead, behind a door that blocked her path. How many? She stopped and tried to focus. About ten, perhaps. She had never taken on that many sentients herself before, but she would have to try. They seemed calm enough. Maybe if she could take them by surprise. . .

A cold streak of alarm raced through them. Had they seen her? She sprinted lightly toward the door, T7 rolling behind. As she approached, their alarm hardened into a chilled determination and warning tingled in the back of Eyrie’s mind. She checked herself and force her mind to focus on the details of their Force-sense.

Just in time. A rush of sensation overwhelmed her – heat, pressure, sound, every one almost too much for her to stand. When her head cleared, she was lying on the deck and troops rushed out of the now-open door.

Heart pounding, Eyrie pulled herself to her feet and ignited her lightsabers. There were too many enemies to fight in her condition, but at least she could buy the others some time.

No, Eyrie, there’s too many of them. Run! Feyte’s voice in her head. We need your help to get out of here. Please.

Eyrie sent a wave of motion at the troops, knocking them back into each other, and ran. T7 kept up with her, but he buzzed with worry. “T7=not made for jumping. T7>smashed to bits.”

“I’ll cushion your landing.” Fatigue tugged at Eyrie as she raced through the twisting corridors. She needed to start a stricter training regimen when she reached Coruscant; this was unacceptable.

Finally, she felt the hollowness that must be the garbage chute open up in front of her. Without hesitation, she leaped into the space, using the Force to slow her descent.

She landed in a pile of something that smelled of rotting flesh with an impact that dropped her to her knees in a thick, warmish liquid. Above her, T7 rolled clumsily over the side and tumbled end over end as he fell. She caught him and steadied him to a gentle landing in a clear part of the room.

The rest of the group huddled by the man door, trying to stay out of the foul debris. Feyte hurried down the stairs and Eyrie sloshed through the knee-deep refuse to intercept her. “I’m fine. We have to keep going.”

“Are you – “

Before she could finish her question, there was a shout from above and Eyrie felt a prickle of energy as a grenade tumbled down the shaft. She half-dragged Feyte back toward the stairs and it exploded behind them with a deafening noise and a spatter of liquid across their back. Feyte cringed.

“Have you got the door open yet?”

“We were waiting for you. Mallena thought it would set off alarms if we broke it open and I knew we couldn’t wait for you if soldiers were shooting at us.”

“I told you not to.” Eyrie started up the stairs. Feyte was too soft sometimes. A Jedi’s life was sacrifice, and that meant being willing to accept it when others needed to sacrifice themselves, too.

She ignited her lightsaber and plunged it through the door. It popped open with a blare of alarm klaxons and Eyrie beckoned the rest of the group through. They were running out of time.

Fortunately, the elevator was nearby. As it raced upward, Grand Moff Kilrin’s oily voice came over the com. “Very well, you leave me no choice.”

“Yes, I’m very scared now,” muttered the captain and for once, Eyrie agreed with her. Vague threats were hardly going to impress them. Still, they should be on their guard.

The elevator let out within sight of the hanger bay. A few droids stood around the shielded door, but no other guards were in evidence. This is too easy. What was she missing?

The two troopers shot the droids, whose Force presence dimmed without causing so much as a ripple in the general area. Not like living beings. The deaths of flesh and blood were like holes poked in the fabric of Eyrie’s consciousness, bright and raw and impossible to ignore. But what had to be done had to be done.

Disabling the shield over the door proved to be a simple matter. The earthy-feeling mercenary that accompanied the captain flipped a switch on a nearby console and it disappeared with a snap. The Imperials must have put the barrier together quickly when Eyrie and the rest of the group boarded the ship.

The door slid back slowly with a heavy noise. A cold sensation raced up her neck. It was a trap. She didn’t know what was about to happen, but they couldn’t stay here.

Ambassador Asara, Commander Narlok, and a few troopers stepped out from behind the shuttle. “Ready to leave?” called the commander.

Eyrie didn’t get a chance to answer. The ambassador flew across the room with a burst of Force energy and a cold, slimy being strode into the room, followed by several Imperials. He gestured again and Commander Narlok fell. Unconscious or simply stunned, Eyrie didn’t know.

Her lightsabers were in her hands before she knew what was happening. They flicked to life and she leapt toward the Sith. He laughed and she felt him ignite his own blade. Letting her knees take the landing, she spun to the side, trying to catch him off guard. Her heart and the hum of her sabers seemed to merge into a single rhythm and she let it guide her actions, immersing herself in the flow of the Force.

He parried and counterstruck, sending pain up her injured wrist. The Dark Side swirled around him and searing pain arced to Eyrie’s body. She gritted her teeth and kept up the pressure. He was strong in the Force, but his lightsaber technique was weak. She could defeat him if she could just keep him from shocking her again.

A wave of Force energy hit her in the chest and she staggered back. As she closed the gap again, weakness spread throughout her body. Blocking his next blow took much more effort than it should have and she almost didn’t manage at all.

The energy was gathering again. She gathered the Force around her and sent it all to her own body, throwing everything she had into a roundhouse kick. The Sith stumbled backward and the dark energy dissipated.

Taking advantage of his distraction, Eyrie slashed at his body and felt his arm detach from his shoulder. With a roar of rage, the Sith lunged at her, only to be driven back by a hail of blaster bolts from the others, who must have finished with the Imperials.

Still fighting the weakness, Eyrie advanced, lightsabers swirling to block his blows. The energy gathered again, but this time she couldn’t stop it.

The lightning seared her nerves and stabbed at her brain, forcing her to her knees. No, she thought. I can’t give up. I have to save them.

She lifted her head. Brought one leg up. The other leg. Stood. Stepped forward. Forward again. The Sith registered surprise that quickly changed to anger. She caught his next attack on her left saber and stabbed with the right one. A slight resistance told her that it had found its mark and the Sith slumped to the ground as she removed her blade. The weakness left her as his life cut out of existence.

* * * *

They stepped onto the bridge: some limping, some still walking strong. Eyrie thought it was a miracle that all eight of them had made it back, as well as the ambassador and the commander. As they approached First Officer Hakin’s station, she felt the tremor of the ship as it jumped to lightspeed.

“We’re on route to Coruscant now,” announced a navigator.

“Good.” Hakin turned around to face them and his shock rippled through the Force like an explosion.

You didn’t think we would bring her back, did you? thought Eyrie. Coward. He must have kept it off his face, though, as the ambassador didn’t comment. By unspoken agreement among the group, they hadn’t told her about the plan to leave her behind, although Eyrie privately wondered if that was the right choice.

“Is everything going to be alright?” said Feyte.

“Yes. We should reach Coruscant in a few hours. Thank you for all you’ve done. I can’t give medals to those not in my direct chain of command, but you’ve all earned them. The whole crew owes you our freedom, and our lives.”

Eyrie shifted uncomfortably. “We were just doing our duty; you can save your praise.”

“I’ll take it!” the captain piped up and Eyrie smiled inwardly in spite of herself.

In a few hours, they would reach Coruscant. She would meet up with Master Dinn and begin work on whatever tasks he had planned for her. She was a Jedi and she would serve the Republic until her death. But until they arrived, all she wanted to do was sleep.

[spacelingart]

Eyrie Lancaster

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[clevermird]

Title: The Road to Coruscant

Prompt: Allies @shortfictionweeklychallenge

Rating: Teen

Characters: Feyte Saien (female Jedi Consular), Mallena Dayne, (female Republic Trooper), Eyrie Lancaster (female Jedi Knight), Jessasi Silver (female Smuggler), Aric Jorgan, Corso Riggs, T7-01, Qyzen Fess

Pairing(s): None

Four young women find themselves on a ship bound for Courscant. Each brings their own companion, their own mission, and their own past, but when the Sith Empire attacks their ship, they find themselves in an alliance, and their biggest problem isn't what they'll do when they reach their destination, but if they're going to reach it at all!  

Now that Ironfist is dead, it's time to take the fight directly to the Imperials - and boy howdy, does Jessasi have thoughts about that!

Text under cut

Jessasi stood up from behind the console she’d been using for cover and shoved her blasters into their holsters. Having a couple of Jedi on your side sure came in handy. Everyone had been so busy shooting at them that they hadn’t even noticed her.

She had to admit, though, Ironfist had been tough. Normally a couple blaster bolts to the chest stopped a guy in his tracks, but it hadn’t seemed to faze him. She wondered what his armor was made of. Maybe she should get herself some of it.

Corso came over to her, hand over one ear. “Those missiles sure are loud, aren’t they, Captain?”

She grinned. “Not hurt, then?”

He shook his head, dreadlocks swinging. “Are you?”

“Not a scratch. Come on, they’re starting without us.” 

The rest of the group had clustered around First Officer Hakin, who was busy thanking them profusely for saving him. The Mirialan Jedi, who Jessasi had come to think of as “the nice one”, smiled. “Don’t mention it.” The other Jedi, the serious one, looked uncomfortable.

Ambassador Asara reappeared, leading Commander Narlok. “We’re not safe yet, though. The Imperials still have us in our tractor beam. We can’t go anywhere until it’s disabled.”

“Short of destroying their ship, the only way to ensure that a tractor beam is disabled is to shut it down from the source,” said Lieutenant Dayne. Jessasi thought she looked a bit young to be an officer, probably early twenties. By human standards, she was probably pretty plain, although not necessarily ugly: about average height, but mostly arms and legs, with washed-out blue eyes and oddly dark eyebrows, one of which was broken by a scar that started at her hairline and ended just below her cheekbone. The only thing that she really had going for her was her hair, which was thick and honey colored and probably real long if she wore it down.

Hakin shook his head. “We can’t destroy their ship. They’d blow us up the moment we started firing. I hate to ask after all you’ve done, but – “

“We’ll do it,” said the serious Jedi.

“Woah, woah, woah, who’s ‘we’?” Jessasi cut in. She was not about to march onto an Imperial ship.

“Myself, T7, and I believe that Feyte and Qyzen will come too. You’re not obligated to join us.”

Jessasi crossed her arms. She certainly hoped not.

Lieutenant Dayne exchanged glances with her Cathar buddy. “We’re going too.”

Corso was looking at her expectantly. Great, now I feel guilty. “It’s not like I’m saying I won’t go! I just didn’t want you volunteering me for something that’ll probably get us all killed. But nope, I’m perfectly fine with coming. Don’t mind me.”

The serious Jedi turned back to Commander Narlok. “How soon can your team be ready?”

“I’ll assemble them right away.”

“Why don’t you take the ambassador with you?” said Hakin. “I’m sure she knows a great deal about the interior of Imperial ships.”

Asara nodded. “I can show you where you need to go.”

“Why don’t you put on a spare uniform, first?” said Narlok. “We don’t want the Imps to recognize you.”

The pair left. Hakin watched them go, then turned back to their group. “Thank you so much for doing this. I don’t know if anyone else on board would have a chance.”

Glancing around, he dropped his voice to just above a whisper. “I heard what Asara tried to make you do back there. Thank you for standing up to her.”

“She panicked,” said the nice Jedi. “I’m sure she didn’t truly want to bring harm to your men.”

“Regardless, I think we all know what has to be done.”

“Then why don’t you just say it?” Jessasi did not like where this conversation was heading.

“Look, the only way to get the Imperials to leave us alone is to give them what they want. So I want you to leave the ambassador behind on the Imperial ship.”

She felt her mouth drop open. “What?!”

“They won’t stop chasing us until they have her and I have to think about everyone else on this ship. We both know she deserves it.”

“Whatever you think about what she did, we still can’t abandon her to the Empire,” said the nice Jedi. “That would be just as great a wrong as sacrificing the engineers.”

“And beyond that, it doesn’t make tactical sense!” burst out Lieutenant Dayne, maybe a bit louder than she should have. “Do you know how many Republic secrets ambassadors like her know? Are you willing to bet the entire war on hoping she can resist an interrogation when she knows her own people sold her out?”

Hakin glared at her. “All I’m asking is for you to think about it.”

“We will,” said Jessasi. “While we’re headed to the airlock to space it.” She’d known there was a reason she hadn’t liked him. Turning on her heel, she walked toward the elevator. Hopefully someone else was going to follow her, because she had no idea where the hanger they were supposed to be going to was and it would look pretty stupid if she had to go back to ask for directions.

Fortunately, the rest of the group was just behind her and the Cathar put in the elevator directions. They raced downward and came out into a hanger bay with a shuttle in the center. A dozen troopers met them and Jessasi and Corso found seats in the front, squeezed in between two of the soldiers.

As the shuttle took off, Commander Narlok started to outline his plan. Jessasi started to tune him out at some point, but she gathered that they were going to split into two groups. One would go to disable the tractor beam, while the other would create a diversion somewhere else on the ship. She was going with the first group and that was all she needed to know.

Leaning back in her seat, she wondered what it would have been like if she had joined the army when she had graduated instead of getting into smuggling. Her parents would probably have reacted a little better, and she wouldn’t have had to deal with that schutta Skavik, either. But it sure wouldn’t have been as much fun.

The shuttle slid into the hanger bay just ahead of the bay doors shutting. Commander Narlok immediately started shouting orders to his men. No, Jessasi decided. Smuggling is definitely more fun.

As they jogged toward the door to the rest of the ship, it burst open and Imperial troops spilled into the hanger. Pulling out her guns, Jessasi fired and three of them fell. She kept running and Narlok’s soldiers took care of the rest of them.

Serious Jedi signaled and Jessasi and Corso peeled of from the main group with the rest of the team headed for the tractor beam. The Imps seemed to be ignoring them, and she didn’t blame them. Narlok’s group was making a huge ruckus, shouting and tossing grenades in addition to mowing down everyone who came their way.

Following Asara’s map, they boarded an elevator, which plunged downward fast enough to overwhelm the inertial compensators and tug at Jessasi’s stomach. It lurched to a stop and spilled them into a dark, gloomy room lined with banks of consoles. Does the Empire not believe in lighting or something?

The room was full of people, but most of them looked like techs and the few who had blasters barely seemed to know how to fire them. It didn’t take long to kill the ones who wouldn’t back down and herd the rest into a corner, where Lieutenant Dayne and the Cathar stood guard over them. Everyone else climbed the ramp to the largest console.

The little astromech droid extended some sort of probe and shoved it into a data port and after a moment, it started making a series of beeps and whirring noises. “What the hell is he saying?” said Jessasi.

Serious Jedi turned in her direction. “He’s shut down as much of the tractor beam as he can from here, but we’ll have to do the rest at the site itself.”

For someone who apparently doesn’t have any eyes, it sure does look like she’s looking directly at you. Something flashed in the corner of Jessasi’s vision and she turned around. “Oh, look, it’s the Imperial guy from before! The ugly one.”

He ignored her. “It’s really rather impressive that you’ve made it this far, but I’m here to tell you that it won’t last. I’m sending my best troops to your location, with orders to spare your lives if you surrender. I recommend you take them up on the offer.”

Serious Jedi looked like she wanted to say something, but Jessasi beat her to it. “Recommend whatever you want, we’re not surrendering!”

“Very well, then. I suppose I’ll have to destroy you. Too bad, really, I was looking forward to talking to you.” The hologram disappeared.

“Oh dear, whatever shall he do?” muttered Jessasi and had the satisfaction of hearing Corso chuckle.

“Let’s go!” shouted Serious Jedi, already halfway down the ramp.

“What about them, m’am?” said the Cathar from the corner.

“Does your gun have a stun setting?”

“Mine does,” the Lieutenant said.

“Use it.” Serious Jedi took off, moving surprisingly quickly for someone of her unimpressive height. Everyone else followed her and Jessasi heard shots behind them. A few minutes later, the two troopers caught up.

Whatever Hakin’s motivations for sending Asara with them, she was certainly useful. Jessasi didn’t think they would have ever found the tractor beam chamber without the map she had given them. Finally, they emerged from a series of hallways and control rooms – does all this stuff even do anything? Jessasi found herself wondering – and saw the tractor beam.

It was pretty impressive: a platform with some sort of glowing beam thing in the center and a console in front of it, all suspended over a giant pit. A stream of guards and droids raced toward them and died in a flurry of blaster bolts and lightsaber beams.  

Jessasi looked up from finishing off a boxy droid that had clumsily tried to take a swing at one of her lekku to see a massive tank-style droid standing in front of the console. “That’s a really big droid,” she muttered.

“And it’s in our way,” the Lieutenant said. “Let’s destroy it.”

“On my signal,” Serious Jedi said softly. “One, two, three.” She leapt to the droid, which tracked her progress with blaster fire. Landing in front of it, she sliced off one of its legs as the rest of the group opened fire or charged into the fight.

Jessasi dove behind a box and started firing. Man, this thing is even tougher than Ironfist. It let out some kind of pulse and the people near it fell backwards. Already near the edge, Serious Jedi lost her balance and toppled off the side of the platform. Nice Jedi shouted in alarm and ran to her.

Ducking behind her cover again, Jessasi took a deep breath and considered. She didn’t want to waste any more time here. More Imps would probably be showing up soon. The droid didn’t even really matter, as long as the console was off. The console. . .

“Corso, come with me!” she shouted, sprinting away from the fight.

“What is it?” he said as he caught up with her.

“Just follow me.”

“We’re not running away, are we, Captain?”

“’course not. We’re winning.”

Like she had suspected, there was another access to the platform on the opposite side of the room. They slipped up it and crawled to the control panel. “Are you sure this is going to work?” said Corso.

Jessasi shushed him. The back of the console was easy enough to pull off, but there she got stuck. What was all this stuff for? And which one had enough juice to get the job done? Well, she’d just have to go with it.

She tugged on a red-insulated wire. When it came loose, she handed it gingerly to Corso. “See if you can short out the droid’s circuits with this,” she said, trying to be heard over the sounds of battle.

He jumped up and dragged the wire over to the droid. It took a few minutes of jerking and dancing to get close enough, but finally, he managed to touch the bare end of the wire to its plating.

Nothing happened.

“Firfek,” Jessasi muttered under her breath. “Try this one!” Maybe the white-insulated wire has more power?

Again, no reaction. “It’s still not working! Captain, are you sure you should – “

“Try this one!” This had to work, it just had to. The droid had noticed her, it was turning, rotating its turrets. In desperation, she flung the latest wire at Corso. The droid paused, then crumpled slightly as blue lightning arced over it, frying its circuits. The light faded from its photoreceptors and it made a sort of weak grinding sound.

Jessasi jumped up, high-fiving Corso. “We did it!” she shouted.

[clevermird]

Failure

WARNING: I'm not entirely sure what to warn of in this story, but I guess I'll just say that Eyrie is in an extremely dark place during this story and it could be a problem for some people. Please author’s note at the end.

Jedi Knight Act II spoilers

Eyrie let the water flow over her body, steaming hot. It hit her shoulders and slid down her back and legs, removing dirt, cleansing wounds, and relaxing her exhausted muscles. But the chill inside her remained. She leaned against the wall and slid down to the tiled floor. The water was hitting her in the face now and running in streams down her cheeks. Is this what crying feels like? Feyte had been so welcoming. There was that to be grateful for at least. Between her and the scientist who lived here now- Eyrie was too tired to remember his name- the others were well taken care of. The other Jedi hadn’t let her in to see them, but had assured her they would be alright. Eyrie wondered if she knew it had been her fault. But no, there hadn’t been a hint of mistrust in her old friend’s sense, just concern and compassion. She would find out soon enough, though. Everyone would. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is peace. There is no emotion, there is peace. Lies. She had fallen. There was nothing left, nothing but darkness and pain and this terrible emptiness inside her. She had thought she could escape her parents’ legacy, but instead she had just made things worse. Master Orgus dead, Master Tol-Braga dead, Kira injured, and more, so many more. Now the Jedi council would have to deal with her failure, have to undo the damage from what she had done. The Hero of Tython, the holonews had called her. She wondered what they would call her now. Eyrie curled into a ball, felt the water drum on her head and back and run down her nose and into her mouth. Everyone would be better off if I had never become a Jedi. I wish the Emperor had just killed me. I wish I could die right now.  

This story was... deeply personal for me to write, and I'm sorry if anyone was offended/bothered by the content. I had been having some personal issues when I wrote it back in November, and when this prompt came up I was feeling all this angst and pain and decided to pour it into the writing. And before you ask, no, I wasn't quite to the point Eyrie was, although I came close a couple of times. Eyrie's someone who puts her entire identity into who she is as a Jedi and her ability to save the galaxy. Something like the ending of Act II would completely break her.  

[clevermird]

Still devastated by her master’s death, Eyrie races after Darth Angral. But her anger and grief may get in the way of saving Uphradies, Tython, and her padawan.

[clevermird]

If there is no death, then where is my son?

With Master Kiwiks safe, Eyrie, Kira, and T-7 hurry to meet up with Master Orgus on Alderaan. Their reunion turns sour, however, when Eyrie stumbles upon one of her master’s secrets.

Before they can resolve their conflict, Master Orgus leaves to confront Darth Angral without his apprentice...

[clevermird]

Still feeling conflicted about her decisions on Nar Shadda, Eyrie decides to make up for it by sparing Lord Pravan’s life and offering him a place with the Jedi instead. Kira’s continued loyalty is slowly starting to win her back into Eyrie’s good graces, and even the rescue of Master Kiwiks went off without too much of a hitch.

Now they just have to take the Jedi Master back to Tython and hurry to meet up with Master Orgus...

[clevermird]

Eyrie Lancaster, Knight of the Republic hurries to find the second of the Republic’s missing superweapons on Nar Shadda. The smuggler’s moon is known for questionable morality, and perhaps a bit of it has rubbed off on her. More likely, it’s her fierce dedication to being the perfect Jedi colliding with her intense opposition to the Sith. But as Kira and T7 found out, the Miraluka isn’t above mind tricking and threatening into what she wants.

What they don’t deny, though, is how deeply Agent Galen’s fate affected her. Despite honoring his request for death, she knows there must have been something she could have done.

[clevermird]

Girls Night In!

Here’s another short, rather plotless bit from me, pretty lighthearted this time :) A little bit of ‘girl talk’, but not enough to make it NSFW, I don’t think. It features all 4 of my Republic characters and contains no spoilers.

“Really?” giggled Jessasi. “What did he do?”

Mallena’s face took on a mischievous expression. “He was so shocked, he forgot his own name and almost sat down on the end table.”

The assembled women laughed as the major finished telling the story of the day her oldest brother had decided to ask the most popular girl in his class to a dance, only to find that she asked him first.

Feyte stretched luxuriously on the mound of pillows she had thrown on the floor. “Is anyone hungry?”

“Nothing for me,” Eyrie said. She sat cross-legged on the floor, her normal sleepwear of boy shorts and sports bra covered with a dark brown robe.

“Are you sure?” Feyte frowned.

“Yes, I’m still full from dinner.”

“Alright. Anyone else?”

“I’m starving!” responded Jess, fiddling with the strings on her sweatshirt. “I’d love some puffcorn.”

The Mirialan’s face fell. “I don’t have any.”

“No puffcorn? What kind of slumber party is this?”

“Mirialan’s can’t eat most human grains, and since no-one else who live here particularly cares one way or the other, I stopped buying it. I can run out and get some if you want.”

Jess waved her hand dismissively. “It’s fine. I didn’t know you couldn’t eat grain.”

“Most grain. There’s a few I can have, they’re just harder to find.”

“Weird…”

“So it’s kind of like an allergy, then?” said Mallena.

“A bit. The same things happen if we do get some by mistake, I can tell you that much.” She made a face.

“What else don’t I know about Mirialans?” said Mallena.

Feyte returned to her pillows and squirmed back into a comfortable position. “Well, I know there’s a couple vitamins we need in our diet that humans don’t. Usually I just take a supplement to make up for them when I’m eating a human diet. We also see a slightly different spectrum, just a little higher into the ultraviolet and a little less of the infrared.”

“Huh. That’s weird. But kind of cool.”

“What about you?” said Jess. “What’s it like not having lekku?”

“I… guess I never really thought about it. I just don’t have them.”

“But, like how do you communicate? How do you function without the extra brain space?”

“I guess we just… do?” Mallena ran her fingers through her hair. “Maybe we’re really missing out. I’ve never had any, so I wouldn’t know. But I have a question for you: do you really use them for sex?”

“Of course! It’s like having boobs, except cooler. This one guy I knew-” She saw Eyrie make a face. “TMI?”

“A bit, yes.”

“I’ll stop if you let me ask you a question.”

“Alright.”

“What does it look like under your mask? I’ve never seen you without it.”

Eyrie reached up and pulled off the carved plate of bone she used to cover the upper part of her face, setting it on the caf table. The skin under it was smooth apart from the place where the claw-mark scars on the left side crossed that area, a few shades paler than the rest of her face, with slight dents over her empty eye sockets.

“Huh. I figured it would be more mystical-looking. Weird tattooed symbols or something. But you can see just fine?”

“It’s not what you would call seeing. We sense the presence of objects and other beings in the Force and form them into an awareness of the world around us. But for example, the best way I could describe you right now would be an amorphous ball of glowing gold liquid, while Feyte feels like the noise wind chimes make.”

“So we appear as other stuff?” Mallena looked curiously at her.

“Not really… I’m not describing it very well. If you’ve felt the Force, it makes a lot more sense.”

“I was wondering about that, too. What’s it like to be able to do that?”

“It’s like trying to explain music to a creature without ears. It just kind of is.”

Feyte leaned forward. “I guess it is like music, though. Every song has a unique melody, right? But it uses the same notes, chords, keys, that sort of thing? People’s Force-sense is like that. Species, age, gender, they all contribute, sort of like chords. You can see them the same from person to person. But they’re all still different. And the way they feel can change a bit with their mood, but you still recognize it, like changing keys.”

“Wow,” said Mallena. “That makes perfect sense, actually.”

“That’s right, you play, don’t you? I probably misused some of the terms.”

“You got them right, don’t worry.”

The party lapsed into silence for a few minutes, then Jess sat up. “Did you say something about a snack, Feyte?”

“Oh, right. I’ll go grab one. Want to pick out a movie for when I get back?”

[clevermird]

History

I’m not entirely happy with how this fic turned out. There was a specific feel I wanted it to have, and it seems to be absent in the final product. But I can’t really think of how to improve it, so I’m posting it as-is.

This story takes place during Jedi Knight Coruscant and contains no spoilers.

Eyrie sat cross-legged on the thin floor mat, Master Orgus across from her. She hadn’t been his apprentice for long, but his presence was already familiar, a steady baseline rhythm punctuated with excited staccatos. It stood out against the more distant mix of signals that was Coruscant. When she had arrived, it had taken her nearly a full day to adjust to the higher level of input. By now, however, she could block most of it. Not entirely, though. A Jedi must always be aware of her environment. He shifted his weight and said “Even though you’re a Jedi Knight now, the Council thinks it would be best if I continued to work with you for a while. I mean, you were only an apprentice for a few months, and we want to make sure you’ve gotten all the training you need.” Or you don’t trust me. Eyrie pushed the unworthy thought away. It might be true, but she would gain nothing by thinking about it. “Yes, Master.” He chuckled a bit. “You don’t have to say that all the time, you know.” “Alright.” It felt wrong to address him less formally, but if that was what he wanted, so be it. “What do you want me to do?” “For now? Relax. Enjoy yourself. You went through a lot to get here, and Coruscant is a fun planet for people who haven’t spent much time here. We’re meeting General Var Suthra in the morning, but there’s nothing until then.” “Thank you.” Eyrie stood up and walked out of the room. Perhaps she should explore a bit. That evening, she returned to find Master Orgus sitting on the balcony of their quarters, reclining in a chair. “What are you doing, Master?” she said. “Watching the sunset,” he replied. “How was your day?” “Fine.” She sat on the other chair. “Coruscant is a very complex city. There’s a lot of pain here, but a lot of hope as well.” She stopped, embarrassed at her floweriness. “It’s been through a lot since the Sacking. You have a bit of a history here as well, I’ve heard.” “You heard correctly.” This was the conversation she had known would come eventually. Had she dreaded or anticipated it? He turned his attention in her direction. “I know what happened with your parents, Eyrie. And I want you to know that it wasn’t your fault. What they did has absolutely no effect on what I think of you.” “Why wouldn’t it?” “Because you’re your own person. They made choices, you make yours.” “But if I make the same wrong choices-“ “You don’t have to.” “They defied the Jedi order, and their love destroyed them.” Something rippled in Master Orgus’ Force presence. “It didn’t have to, though. They could have used it to strengthen their compassion for others instead.” Eyrie sighed. Could he be right? “I will think on what you said.” “Just something to consider, Eyrie.” 

[clevermird]

Beneath the Surface

So, I was positive I had posted this story here, but when I went to go submit it to the SFWC blog, I couldn't find it. So apologies if this is a repost. 

This story involves my Jedi Knight, Eyrie Lancaster, and takes place a few months before the start of the game. It also takes place earlier in the day from my last story post (Very Old Friends)

[clevermird]

Very Old Friends

Well, this started out as an interesting little bit about Eyrie's apprentice ceremony, but then I saw a chance to include one of the few ships I actually have, so there's some romance here too.

Orgus Din leaned on the railing, watching the sun set. He had been lucky enough to get quarters that had a balcony, and he enjoyed sitting outside to do his evening meditation. A warm Tython breeze blew. Tomorrow, he would have an apprentice again for the first time in years. He had to admit, it would be nice to have a young voice around again. Watch it, Orgus. You’re starting to sound like an old man. A knock on the door. “Come in,” he called. The door slid back and he felt a familiar presence enter the room. “Hello, Bela.” “Hello. How are you doing?” “Just fine, why do you ask?” “Well, tomorrow is the day you take Eyrie on as your apprentice. Aren’t you a bit nervous?” He smiled as she leaned on the railing next to him. “Not really. I’ve trained padawans before, you know.” “I know, but Eyrie Lancaster doesn’t exactly have the most standard history.” “And everything that happened to her parents doesn’t have to have any effect on how she grows up. You should know that.” “I suppose. Be careful, alright?” “Nothing to be careful of. But I will.” “That’s what you said on Ord Mantell. Remember how that turned out?” Orgus gave her a mock-glare. “I thought we agreed not to bring up Ord Mantell?” “Sorry, I couldn’t resist.” He maintained the look for a few more seconds before breaking into a grin. Bela laughed and dropped her gaze. Togruta didn’t blush, but if they did, he was sure her red cheeks would be even redder. “You know, I think I lied. I am a little nervous.” Almost without thinking, he took her hand. She ran her other one down his shoulder. “It will be alright. Like you said, she’s dedicated to becoming a Jedi. Even if she does end up being a little fuzzy on the details, I’m sure you can help her.” “Thank you.” Orgus sighed. He had only realized his feelings a little while ago, but suddenly it seemed as though he was running out of time very quickly. “Bela, you know I’ve appreciated your advice and friendship over the years…” “And I yours, Orgus.” She avoided his eyes. He felt his heart stop. She knew what he was going to say. Was she trying to figure out how to turn him down? Would she report him to the rest of the Council? But no, he couldn’t turn back now. “Sometimes I’ve felt like… like there could be something more than friendship.” A pause. She’s going to say something you won’t like, you need to cover. “But that’s probably stupid.” “No,” she whispered, breath warm on his chin. “No, it’s not.” Looking into his eyes, she leaned forward, and suddenly they were kissing, arms tight around each other and her lips pressed against his. He closed his eyes and concentrated on her as everything else slid away. * * * * The next morning, Orgus awoke to the sun streaming through his window. Bela lay next to him, still asleep, chest moving up and down softly with her breaths. She blinked awake as he sat up. “Good morning.” He smiled. She had always been a morning person. “Morning. How are you feeling?” She stretched a bit. “Alright. You?” “Just fine.” Orgus stood up and started dressing. He was halfway through fastening his tunic before he realized that he should probably put on his dress robes. He was getting an apprentice in about an hour. Bela climbed out of the bed, straightening the blankets as she did. “I suppose I should get back to my quarters. I’ll need to be ready for the ceremony, and Kira will probably be looking for me sooner or later.” “Alright.” He felt a little awkward. Did she regret their night together? Had he just ruined their friendship or worse? “I hope to see you there.” “You will.” Giving him a small smile, she kissed him lightly and hurried toward the door. After a pause to feel for anyone approaching, she slipped out and disappeared. He smiled after her, then shook himself and continued getting ready. He had to be a Jedi Master now: peaceful, serine, calm. It didn’t sit well with him keeping this from the rest of the council, but that was a conversation to have with Bela. Definitely not something to talk about today. An hour later, he stood in the Council chamber, pulling at his nicest set of robes and wondering again who had decided that things like this needed fancy outfits. He checked the wall chrono. She should be here in five minutes. A knock sounded on the door and Satele keyed for it to open. Eyrie entered, looking extremely serious. She bowed. “Masters.” “Good morning, Padawan,” said Satele. “Are you ready to begin?” “Yes, Master.” “Very good. Orgus, is it your wish to take Eyrie Lancaster as your apprentice?” “Yes, Grand Master.” The questions were standard and formal; the Council would never have allowed him to take her on if they thought any of the answers would be no. “Will you train her in the ways of the Jedi, teaching her to live by the Jedi Code and defend peace and order in the galaxy?” “Yes.” Satele turned to Eyrie. “And Padawan Lancaster, do you wish to become the apprentice of Jedi Master Orgus Din?” “Yes, Master.” “Will you learn from him what it means to protect the defenseless and defend the weak?” “Yes, Master.” “Then I give you permission to become Master and Padawan.” Orgus stepped forward. Normally, this would be when the new apprentice braided a small lock of their hair to signal their status for the next several years. Since Eyrie’s hair was short, he had made use of a trick he had learned with apprentices of hairless alien species. Digging in his belt pouch, he dug out a string of supple braided leather decorated with beads and held it out. “You can use this until your hair grows out,” he said softly. She ducked her head slightly. “Thank you, Master.” She was trembling, he realized as she took the braid. Excited, nervous, or both? It was hard to tell. Her outer surface was nearly emotionless. Satele cleared her throat, bringing his attention back to her. “Remember to be patient, Orgus, and to listen to the Living Force for guidance. Eyrie, remember that the Jedi are defined by the choices they make, not what anyone else has done.” She smiled. “May the Force be with you both.”

[clevermird]

Training Days

So, here's a quick bit for the SFWC, involving my Jedi Knight, Eyrie, and what she does when nobody's watching...

Sweat poured down Eyrie’s face as she sent the last stun bolt back into the training remote, deactivating it. The room, which had been filled with the quick, pulsing beat of combat, fell silent in the Force. She inhaled slowly, then exhaled, trying to return the world to her normal state of awareness. “Eyrie, that was wonderful,” said Master Odin, who had been overseeing her evaluation. “You’ve made a good three months of progress in the last six weeks.” She bowed. “Thank you, Master.” He was wrong, though. She’d spent nearly three full afternoon training sessions on the leaping maneuver she had used to open combat, but had nearly missed her target altogether. Although she had recovered, it had shaken her to the point that she had finished the exercise a minute and a half slower than normal. His smile warms the room and she can feel his genuine happiness. “You’re the one who put in the work. Now why don’t you go get some food and take the rest of the day off? You’ve been pushing yourself a lot to get ready for this.” “Yes, Master.” Eyrie returned her training sabers to their rack and left the training room, feeling disappointed. She could have done so much better. There is no emotion, there is peace, she reminded herself. No emotion, peace. I’ll just have to train harder next time. The cafeteria was noisy and crowded as usual at this hour. The different impressions of each student crossed over each other and mixed, weaving into a complex fabric that overwhelmed and soothed her at the same time. She picked up a tray, loaded it with food and seated herself at a corner table. Eating quickly, she pondered how best to spend the rest of her day. She could see if the archives had anything new on audio, swim, or take a long walk through the woods. But her mind kept going back to her evaluation, to everything she should have done differently. She should train more. When she finished with her meal, Eyrie returned the dishes to the slot to be cleaned and hurried down the hallway to the training rooms. Her legs were starting to ache a bit, but not badly. Fortunately, the room they had been using was still open. She picked up the training sabers and felt their smooth hilts, still warm from where she had gripped them before. “I thought I told you to take the rest of the day off?” said Master Odin. Eyrie spun around, cursing herself for not paying more attention. His presence, full of barely contained energy mixed with wisdom much older than the rest of him suggested, was clearly there. It was only her own inattentiveness that had made her miss him. “I prefer to finish my training.” “Eyrie, you need to relax. We may be Jedi, but that doesn’t mean we have to work all the time.” But I do, she thought. If I want to be a good enough Jedi that you and Master Satale and the Jedi Council will ever trust me, I’ll have to practice more than anyone else here. “Yes, Master.” “Now go have some fun. And if I see you here again today, I’ll make you skip practice for a week.” His voice was joking, but she could feel real weight behind his words. Eyrie wandered back down the hall. Now she did have to fill a whole day with no practice. What should she do with herself? After nearly twenty minutes, she found herself in the section of the archives that housed computer terminals. Most were unused at this time of the day, and she sat down at one. Tapping the screen by memory, she switched on the descriptive interface and slid the headphones over her ears. Perhaps she could catch up on the news. Most of it was as unfortunate as usual: a senator murdered, terrorism on Corellia, more rumblings from the Empire. Eyrie’s hand curled into a fist. Why was she sitting here when there was work to do? She should be preparing to stop all this evil in the galaxy, not sitting here. But no, Master Odin had told her to relax, and she needed to relax. Clicking away from the news site, she found herself listening to a steady stream of ad descriptions as she wondered what to do next. One of them caught her attention. Some new show that sounded rather interesting. Well, she had nothing better to do with her time. Several hours later, she realized that dinner was rapidly approaching and she had watched half a season of Forensic Investigation Squad.

Many Years later…

“Hey!” shouted Doc from The Sword of Justice’s main living area. “Who did this?” Eyrie leaped out of bed and rushed to his side. “What’s wrong?” “Somebody’s been screwing with the holo streaming again. I had all our show preferences programed into it, and somehow now it thinks all anyone wants to watch is Forensic Investigation Squad.” “Very strange,” replied Eyrie levelly. She probably should learn to navigate it properly someday, but she hadn’t been able to sleep last night, and hadn’t been in the mood to play with the holoviewer until it was in private mode. “I hope you can put it back soon.” “I can, it’s just annoying.” He sighed. “Who watches that show, anyway?”

[clevermird]

Distress Call

I managed to take a little time out of studying for finals to write a bit for my Jedi. The following contains spoilers for the Jedi Consular's Act 2, a very minor one for an early conversation with Lt. Iresso, and references and heavy hints to the end of Jedi Knight Act 2.

I'll probably do a follow-up/expansion from Eyrie's perspective when I hit this point in her replay.

Feyte sits listlessly at the table in the conference room. She feels completely drained. Long months on Hoth followed by Eyrie’s disappearance- the Jedi Councel wont’ say what happened, but she can tell they’re worried- and finally the shock of discovering Blasus’ true identity have worn her down and by now she feels like an empty shell that goes through the motions of life without really knowing why.

She’s being over-dramatic, she knows. The feeling will pass in time. But right now it’s hitting her like a turbolaser battery and she just wants to sleep until it goes away.

Something flickers in the Force behind her and she looks up. Lt. Iresso is standing in the doorway, holding his rifle and looking worried. “Are you alright, Jedi?”

Feyte manages to put on a smile. “I’m fine. Just tired. And I’ve told you, you can call me Feyte.”

He nods. “Mind if I sit down? I need some place to clean this rifle, and one of the senators is trying to sleep.”

“Of course. As long as you don’t mind if I stay and chat.”

“Go right ahead.” He looks at her a little nervously, and she feels something stir, not quite in the Force, but not quite in her mind either. It’s almost like she’s feeling something while simultaneously being aware that someone else is feeling the same thing. Could it be…?

The thought makes her blush and she starts talking to cover it. “So, are you happy to be off Hoth, or do you miss it?”

“Little of both, I guess,” he says, detaching the rifle’s handgrips and setting them on the table. “I mean, I miss the guys in my command, but they’re going home like they deserve. Can’t say I’m sorry to leave Hoth, though. That place was colder than anywhere I’ve ever been.”

Feyte smiles. Talking to someone is helping. “I can’t disagree with you there.”

“I like the ship, though, even if it is a little crowded. I-“

He breaks off as the holoterminal in the main room rings. Feyte jumps up and hurries to answer. That could be Master Satale or Master Bakarn. “Excuse me,” she calls over her shoulder. Pressing the answer key, she waits for the caller to appear.

After several minutes, a figure flickers into view. “Eyrie!” Feyte gasps. Her friend’s face is half-obscured by the hood of a robe and her carved mask and she’s crouched down, seeming afraid of discovery.

“Feyte, is that you?” Her voice is dry and husky and lifeless.

“Yes. What is it? Where have you been?” Feyte can feel energy flowing back into her body. Finally, something is going right.

“I don’t have time, they might be tracing this call. You have to come and pick us up. Meet me at the coordinates I’m sending as soon as you can. And have a medic ready.”

The hologram disappears and Feyte lets out the breath she didn’t know she had been holding. Eyrie is alive, and at least one other person on her crew is as well, or she wouldn’t have said ‘we’.

“Is Kira alright?” says Nadia. Feyte turns around. The Selucami girl is standing in the doorway, along with Tharan and Holiday, Lt. Iresso, and Representative Aluani.

“She didn’t say, but I think so.” The two of them had met briefly several times, and seemed to get along well. It’s a friendship Feyte wants to encourage. It would be good for both of them to spend time with people their own age.

“Are you sure it’s her?” the representative says. “It wasn’t on her frequency, was it?”

Feyte shakes her head. She hasn’t told anyone else on the ship what little she knows, but it was impossible to hide altogether. “No, but I doubt she’d be calling us for help if her ship was functioning.”

“We can trace the call,” offers Tharan. “Holiday?”

“Of course I can.” The hologram disappears and reappears next to the holoterminal. “Let’s see… It looks like the call came from Imperial space. If I’m not mistaken, this is a shuttle frequency from the Imperial navy.”

“See, I told you,” says the representative. “They’re probably just baiting us.”

Feyte feels her stomach sinking. “But we have to try. What if she got captured and just managed to escape. An Imperial code might be all she could find.”

Lt. Iresso shakes his head. “It’s too dangerous for us to go. Call the Jedi council or the Chancellor’s office, and get them to send a couple Spec Ops squads over there.”

“There’s no time for that. She said they were tracking her. We have to go.” Tears spring into her eyes. “Please.”

He shrugs. “You’re the Jedi Master. I just don’t think it’s a good idea.”

Representative Alluani is frowning harder than usual. “It’s stupid, but I can’t argue with you, I suppose.” Both of them turn to leave, along with Tharan and Holiday. Nadia remains in the doorway.

“Are you sure it’s not a trap, Master?”

“I am, Nadia.” “Alright. Then I think we’ll be OK.”

“Thank you. Will you help me get the ship ready to go? It will be faster with two of us.”

The next day, Feyte walks down the ramp of The Shining Path with nervousness tearing at her. What if she’s wrong? Can she defeat an Imperial ambush? She hopes so. Qyzen has insisted on coming along for her protection, and despite his obvious discomfort with the endeavor, so has Lt. Iresso.

The coordinates have brought them to a disused mining station. A thin layer of dust covers the floor and Feyte can sense a faint, lingering dark presence. A lone shuttle is the only other thing in the docking bay.

As she, Qyzen, and the Lt. slowly walk towards it, its door opens and Feyte feels the other two tense. A lone figure, short and slim and wrapped in a black robe, walks down the ramp. It reaches up and pulls its hood off.

“Eyrie,” Feyte says in relief. “It’s you.” She races toward her friend and wraps her arms around her.

The Miraluka stands there stiffly, body tense. “We have to go. Kira and Doc are wounded, and the Empire is after us. I’m sorry to trouble you, but my ship was unavailable.” She speaks in a near monotone.

Feyte steps back. “Eyrie, what’s wrong? Where were you?” Not only is the other Jedi’s voice different, but up close, she looks terrible. Her face alone has several half-healed wounds and she’s lost weight. If she had eyes, Feyte is sure they would be sunken in dark circles. Her presence is unreadable, masked in the way Eyrie so often does to the point where Feyte isn’t even sure if she’s feeling the emotions at all, or if she’s become so good at masking them that she’s shut down feeling althogether.

She doesn’t answer and turns back into the shuttle. Feyte stares after her, confused. A moment later she reappears, with T7. Sgt. Rusk and Doc are behind her, supporting Kira between them, though it’s obvious that the Sgt. is doing most of the supporting. The redheaded padawan’s head hangs limply, her eyes are closed, and her clothes in tatters, but she doesn’t show many outward signs of injury. Doc is obviously limping and a bruise is rising on his cheek and Rusk looks a little paler than she remembers, but neither seems in immediate danger.

Behind them, another figure emerges from the shuttle and Feyte takes a step back involuntarily. “Don’t worry,” says Eyrie in the same tone. “He’s our ally, for now anyway.”

Feyte takes a deep breath and looks at the pureblood again. He’s tall and bulky, wearing classic Sith battle armor and apparently uninjured. Darkness comes off him in waves and she shivers. “Eyrie-?”

“Please, Feyte. Let’s go.”

Feyte watches as her friends and the Sith board her ship, Qyzen and Lt. Iresso standing close. A cold feeling creeps over her. Something terrible happened, and she’s afraid of finding out what it was.

[clevermird]

The results of playing with my guildie all evening :)