Post by Bobbi on May 21, 2019 12:24:16 GMT -5
Hapans/Mandals:
The assessment of time that had led to the decision to try for the Astrala was revealed to have been accurate. The dark of evening did not close in on them as they went. That allowed Solomon to course-correct as ships loomed out of the dust.
At last: it was the skimmer that came into view. The first marker. And not so far off from where it should be. How long before had they seen that, and first set to work? Hours, but it might have felt like a lifetime.
It meant not far to the place where flat desert gave way to rock formations, which in turn meant not far to the beginning slope up to the edge of the crater and home, to Tal-Keb itself. Water, pods, food, medkits.
Sol:
Sight of the first marker was a blurry outlined hull until they were nearly right on top of it. Still trusting the wakek to know the way, Sol blinked dust out of his eyes and skirted a look down toward it as they passed by. They were on the right track. -Soon- they'd be back at Tal-Keb, and thought of seeing the Blood Sky never seemed like such an awesome prospect before that moment. Aside from provisions and healing being back at Tal-Keb meant rest. The morning seemed such a distance away, like it had happened decades ago and every moment spent breathing in the thick red dust made it grow even further away. At some point between the first marker and their arrival to where the rock formations would start Solomon would give the signal that he just couldn't hold on any longer to the bond between himself and the wakek. By that point his mind felt like a glowtorch reaching the last legs of its life flickering on and off, sucking up the last dregs of its energy.
Hapans/Mandals:
As the dark of evening gathered in, the first of the dead became visible as a hulking shadow on the rock.
A wakek. Painted with symbols down its snout. Not one of Tal-Keb's. Someone had shot it in the face, and apparently when that had not met with good results, jammed a spear into one of the eye sockets.
The spear, too, bore symbols along its shaft, different from those in the small cache above.
The killer lay nearby. One of the many Mandalorians who had sought refuge here.
Sense of the formation above:
Empty.
So empty.
Sol:
Pulling himself from his inward focus happened when they got close to Tal-Keb. It was something of a sense of proximity, but sharpened by the fact that he was not able to sense the familiar presences he was looking for: Ava, Jeryndi, and Medren. They weren't there. That realization had him snapping to, head flying up and eyes squinting into the red to see what they were approaching. Fresh death, and the feeling of it, clawed at his mind singing a song of horror. Fear. He felt that more than he saw the dead wakek, the spear and the markings. That was a fresh blade, a swift and raw cut drawing its broad line across his mind and stabbing at his heart. What had happened here, and more importantly what had happened to those they'd left behind earlier that day? And then a worse thought, what if the Ori'ade who did this were still lurking and he was too weak to feel them? "Captain," he croaked, leaning forward, "I think we should keep going -- there's another settlement, another formation they might have fallen back to."
Hapans/Mandals:
Behind Liv, the Mandos who were conscious and Buttercup scanned the area. Breis Teimar softly spoke names and signalled, assigning angles of watch since they couldn't spread out.
Nothing moved out there but wind-blown dust. No sound but the faint roar of the red, creeping back in to overtake them because they hadn't taken full pods.
A creaking of harness was the first warning that Breis was maneuvering to slide down, his eyes on the fallen warrior ahead.
Sol:
He was intent on sensation, what he could feel right then was more important than what he could see because The Red lashed at his face when the winds shifted, and the world within it had become a cloudy, wavy, blurred mess of things he -almost- recognized outside of memory. He knew who was where on that wakek by remembering where everyone had sat when they'd mounted up, not because he could recognize their bodies for what they were. If someone has traded spots with someone else while he wasn't aware, Sol wouldn't have known the difference visually. So when Breis started to slide off, Sol shifted his weight as if he were going to try to stop the bigger Mandal, instead he leaned forward again, "Stop, Liv. We'll lose Teimar." His voice was a croaked and faint version of itself, the words barely formed above a whisper within his dry throat.
Hapans/Mandals:
Liv twisted in place.
Breis felt a hand close around his wrist as his feet touch the ground and looked up, weary and ready to be angry.
Liv said, "No one goes without a partner, alor."
Immediately, Breis' brow clouded, and he whispered, "Doc...?"
Sol:
There were very few words in basic that sounded like that singular one in Mando'a, and at first he wasn't sure he'd heard it right. Maybe she had said something else? What caught Solomon about it was that there was something different in -how- it was said, not that it was said at all. Liv, after all, could have heard one of the Mandals saying it to him at any given point since their arrival at Tal Keb. The word itself stood out, though. It wasn't Liv who had said it. It didn't carry the same cantor as she would have used. He wanted to chalk that up to the growing roar of the red, but he couldn't dismiss it, and neither could Breis. Lowering his head and coughing to clear his throat of the dust as much as he could, Sol made the offer, "I'll go with him, Doc." His voice was no better than it had been, still tight, strained and thick in his throat.
Hapans/Mandals:
Azair, in Liv's armor, held and used Liv's face a little differently than did Liv herself. One could have argued that, if stood side by side, an observant person might have felt there was in fact a visible difference between Liv-as-Liv and Azair-as-Liv, like twins that were very alike indeed but not perfectly identical. Right then, she assessed Solomon openly. "You're hurt. So is he. I'll go."
"No, Captain; let me." That was Buttercup, who had seen the work with Azair and Liv, and understood, but still had stirred out of habit and spoken Liv's rank. She started untangling herself. "Someone fit has to stay with the wakek, right? And you can control it."
Sol:
He was hurt. So was Breis. These were facts that couldn't be disputed. What also couldn't be argued was how strange it was to hear Liv speaking the way she was. Someone else was in control of that voice, and while he'd get used to it there were things about it that made his skin feel like it was covered in a million little bugs all scurrying around at the same time. He sank back slightly, rounding his shoulders forward in a more pronounced slump so he could look Buttercup's way. "Do you still have the blaster?"
Hapans/Mandals:
Buttercup, like Breis before her, was already swinging her leg over to slide down, mindful of Tavv'ari and Nen. "Yeah," she said quietly.
Sol:
His next croak was a singular word, and it came with as much of a nod as he could manage with his neck feeling stiff like it was, "Good."
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis Teimar had not left the wakek's side, and once Buttercup stood with him, he said, "The Leap of Faith is there. If we leave now, and if we leave knowing nothing, we are dead. We don't have water. We don't have pods. We don't have food. And the Hapans are going to die if we can't warn them in time. We'll get no rescue. We might as well shoot ourselves." Pause. "... if our fucking weapons weren't out of power."
His gaze raked the faces atop the wakek. "If the enemy are up there, we kill them. Otherwise, we face a wasting death."
"They are the only glory we can hope for."
Sol:
"Its empty," Solomon stated, breathing out from behind the shoddy fabric covering his mouth, sending a small cloud of red billowing out away from his words, "I can't sense any living thing up there."
Hapans/Mandals:
"Great," said Breis with a big shrug. "Then let's get up there and see if we can do anything to signal the rescue ship. See if we can tell what happened. See if there's anything we can salvage."
Sol:
He didn't like it, the thought of getting that close to more death, nor did he like the idea that finding out what happened up there could lead to the discovery of friendly corpses. Death happened in battles. It happened in war. It happened at the end of someone's life. Jedi accepted death, Mandals revealed in the glory it would bring in battle. He couldn't bring himself to do either. Those thoughts had to be turned off, and his focus shifted elsewhere. "I'll see what can be done with the ship." Because Catia was still out, he'd be the best choice for that he thought.
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis nodded, but attention briefly turned to Catia and he walked back that way. Azair turned on the wakek's back, and Tavv and Nen shook their heads. "She hasn't so much as twitched, alor," Nen reported grimly.
Earlier, she'd been given half a pod, too, but it hadn't roused the Hapan.
Sighing, Breis looked to Azair. Or maybe he looked to Captain Black out of reflex, still getting used to the idea that it was Azair in control now. When Azair did not give an order as Liv might have, he turned to Buttercup to say, "Stay with him. First sign of trouble, you get him out of there and we regroup. You--" This to Azair and those behind him, "--You're our eyes down here, and our quick way out. Do you... Can you..." The big Mandal made an awkward gesture toward the wakek, one eye on the rocks behind him out of an awareness of how vulnerable they were right there. He still sounded ragged. Energy had come to him from danger, from necessity, but Breis Teimar was not in good shape. "Handle the beast?"
Azair considered it. "If I can't, my failure will likely be announced loudly."
Sol:
It took Solomon several moments to work out just how to slide down the side of the wakek without landing too heavily on his left leg. The worst sting had left his skin, but it was still feeling very tender with his weight put on it. He gave himself a moment for balance's sake, and bearings, before looking Buttercup's way. She wasn't too far away. The Hapan woman's stature was blocky enough for him to discern between her and everything else around them with the red dancing before his eyes. "Let's go."
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis hung behind a moment to give further orders to those staying behind. He wanted Catia strapped down so that the surviving Mando'ade had their hands free in case they needed to defend themselves. He switched out a weapon with Nen, told Tavv to help Azair get the armor open again so that he could try to establish his old contact with the wakek and find out if his vines were too broken to manage it. After that, on account of practical concerns, Azair was in charge among them. Then Breis turned and braced himself to try a jog to catch up with Buttercup and Solomon.
Ahead, the path was the path. No more hulking wakek corpses were evident, but Mandal bodies were. Just a few: those pairs who had been on patrol or on watch. Breis could put a name to every single body.
Sol:
As he moved with Buttercup, limping along as needed, he kept his senses open. If something changed on the wind he might miss it. Hell, he might even miss it within The Force but he was not going to go up that formation with only half of his physical sight in tact. The dead they passed, the Mandal bodies. Solomon stopped, and gritted his teeth as he knelt by one of them to inspect wounds, raid what he could and check how intact the padding was that the warrior had been wrapped up in.
Hapans/Mandals:
The corpse had been rent by a spear with hollow markings up and down it; it lay nearby, a clear trail of blood and gore leading to it from the dead woman's torn-outside. Her piecemeal scavenged armor simply had not been enough to save her. There were signs on her legs that she'd been gripped in the mouth of what was probably a wakek and thrown to this point. Of how the spear had come to be torn out and left behind, there were few signs. In the dust, there was no glitter of moisture, no extraordinary color; blood was marked by the clotted look of the red, red dust.
It was finally beginning to grow dark, and still Tal-Kebii'tra felt empty.
Empty, and silent save for scouring winds.
As they neared the top of the shoulder that led into the shelter, Buttercup and Breis automatically slowed, spread out a little, kept low, and moved more cautiously. But the place gave no hint of ambush, and soon enough Breis gave the nod and then led the way in himself. Ijano was dead nearby; Narion on the far side of the shelter. There were signs of blood all over the sleeping area, but those were the only bodies. The dreamers were gone. The supplies were gone.
Outside, on the brittle path that twisted up toward the ledge that held the dropship, the only other wakek corpse was to be found. By the tack, by a mark put on the animal by Azair, it was one of those tamed by Jeryndi.
The way to the Leap of Faith was clear.
Sol:
As he rose, and they moved on, the bloody spear was taken with him. There was still no sign of life within the formation, but caution was based on exhaustion. Better to have it and not need it, with his senses what they were right then, than to leave it and wish he'd grabbed it further on up. Within the formation there wasn't much more to find but more death. More blood. Things were missing -- supplies and sleepers. There was a distinct lack of faces from Solomon's past. He didn't want to think about all the things that could have meant. And he didn't have to. He didn't dig around too much within the formation. The scene relatively spoke for itself. Once back outside and on the path, the third wakek found, Solomon had to pause and turn back toward the mouth of the formation, covering his mouth with the length of his forearm, "I wonder if they took the speeder."
Hapans/Mandals:
The speeder's nook was below, closer to where Azair and the others were, far enough away that a quick look was out of the question. Breis nodded, though: "We need to find out. Maybe we can strip it and use something there to...." He sighed, shook his head; his optimism was running dry, and it was making it hard for him to think clearly. "Let's just get a look at the ship."
It wasn't far. Solomon and Ava had taken this very path up and around.
It was different this time, though.
One more dead body, up there, out on the ledge. And the dropship itself was covered in matted, dust-clotted footprints. No question what had left them: wakeks. Either one stomping back and forth all over the damaged ship, or many wakeks. Even the cable looked rusted out--no--just like dust had collected along it in ways that it had not previously.
Sol:
At Breis' command, Sol was turning back and passing the wakek by. Their time was running short, so he wasn't going to argue about checking to see if the speeder was there or not. That was something that could wait. Surveying the ship, right then while they had the light to do so, was much more important. He'd seen the damage to the drop ship first hand with Ava, but he hadn't done much to the ship during that visit. Now, as it came into sight, with the heavy blurred presence of a body laying at the ledge, Solomon was wishing he'd have taken the opportunity to work on it while he'd had the chance. "What do you think happened?" He croaked out weakly. His voice was losing volume, not because of the roar of the red but because of the damage he'd taken.
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis did not answer. Instead, approaching the dropship cautiously, he asked, "What do you think you can do for this? Or for the cable? Without the Hapan." She might never wake up.
Sol:
"There's nothing I can do for the ship," he rasped, having to move in behind Breis for fear of the volume of his voice causing it to become lost on the wind. "It's just as dead as the wakek we passed on the way up here." He was then looking up, head titled as much as he could without causing strain, "And the cable -- I have to get up there to see what kind of condition its in. If the ship can't be used, then the cable might be." He paused for a breath, "I won't know until I get my hands on it."
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis eyed the footprints on the ship, and the clotted dust along the mangled cable, and followed both down and then back up all the way to where the most obvious break in the line was. "We need to make it happen. No matter the risk." Taking Grot's breather before they'd left the dead wakek had helped Breis tremendously, but like Solomon his voice was ragged and he breathed carefully, his whole body wary of choking on even one more mouthful of dust.
Sol:
Solomon was looking the ship over from where he was standing, and then moved to get closer and circle around it. The guide cable was still attached by its broken harness, and somewhere above was the break in the line. He went slow and cautiously, keeping a mind on the thought that there might be surprise movement from any little corner behind the ship that they couldn't see clearly, "My idea," he spoke as loudly as he could manage, "Is to climb up here, get to the formation the cable is snagged on, and work on it from there."
Hapans/Mandals:
"And then what?" Breis asked, breather rasping.
Buttercup, meanwhile, edged closer to the dropship to eye the lower length of cable down toward where it disappeared in the darkening dust and shadow of the crater.
Sol:
He was falling still looking the ship over, but was once more close to Breis with Buttercup on the other side of him, "Send a message." Sol turned toward Breis, "A warning. If I can disrupt the power flow, if its still active up beyond the break and I can break it up in dot-code they could get the message. It would have to be short, and concise."
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis Teimar's expression pinched in thought for a moment.
Back to them, Buttercup could be heard wryly muttering, "Giant fucking rocks, stop. Send railguns, stop. Need water and breathers, stop. Send soap."
Sol:
"That might be effective enough," he commented toward Buttercup. He'd have smiled slightly if he didn't think it was going to cause more discomfort, "Al'verde?" Commander. The word was said with Sol's attention shifting back toward Breis.
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis glanced at Buttercup, then back at Solomon. He shook his head. "Say 'airborne mines,' instead. That will get them what they need to know. If that doesn't cause them to abort... we are requesting evac. If they can get us out of here, we can share what we know and come back. And if they've got a ship that can somehow maneuver down... we can come back properly geared, armed, and with numbers. So: 'Warning: airborne mines. Need emergency evac.' Tell them there are seven of us."
Sol:
"Seven?" The rest he understood, but -seven-.
Hapans/Mandals:
The question got an odd look from Breis.
Sol:
The look was enough of a prompt for him to continue, "Is someone staying behind?"
Hapans/Mandals:
Breis Teimar leaned forward slightly. "Let's not clutter up our emergency message trying to explain that the Hapan Captain has formed a bond with our leafy friend. Seven."
Sol:
"Right." He had to look up just slightly to see Breis eye to eye. He hadn't considered that, still working with the idea that the Hapan Captain and the Eyith were now one. It was a simple thing enough to understand. He knew how something like that could work. There was still a dividing line between them in his head, and that was where the number had caught. "Airborne mines, and seven it is." He turned toward the ship, tilting his head to the right, and then to the left, as far as he could to try and loosen himself up. The spear he was carrying was placed against the shell of the ship, and left there while Sol took a few steps backward toward the edge of the ledge to get a running start. It was taken with a leap once he was close enough to the dropship, his left arm reminding him that there was an injury there and his right acting sluggishly to help in pushing himself up. It was a half-push, half-pull motion, with the rest of the action carried out by his boots which he dug against the side of the ship in any little nook or cranny he could shove boot tips into to get leverage.
Hapans/Mandals:
When it became clear what Solomon meant to do, that he was backing up so that he could make a running leap, Buttercup turned at the sound and Breis' eyes went wide with shock. "Wait--wait--waitwaitwai--" The bigger man flung out his arms to get in his way when he started to run.
Sol:
It was a good enough deterrent that when Sol passed just those first few steps and Breis blocked him, he stopped, his boots kicking up red both behind him and when he halted.
Hapans/Mandals:
"Are you crazed? You've got one good arm." Breis narrowed eyes at him, assessing Solomon via his expression. "We hoist you up. Or... something." That required taking stock of what they still had to work with. "And you get a full pod before you go, because I need you thinking clearly." He snapped fingers sharply in front of Solomon's face; even gloved, the sound cracked out. "Can you do this? Or are you compromised?"
Sol:
Sol took Breis in through squinted eyes, open as much as he could keep them without the red becoming unbearable to see through. The gloved hand that appeared before his face sent the red swirling and shifting as Breis snapped his fingers, a spark of billowing movement sending the rusty colored dust into a frenzy. Sol blinked in response, looking more to keep the grit from getting even further into his vision, "I can," he answered Breis, croaking out those words as solidly as he could.
Hapans/Mandals:
Pointedly, Breis turned and slowly looked up the forty foot length of the meter-thick cable to where it first began to look mangled above. The particular rocks that pinched it hadn't shifted much since the dropship had come down, as much held in place by the lean and damage of the cable as the cable itself was pulled taut between them. Breis eyed Solomon again.
Sol:
"I got this," three dry words spoken with as much conviction as they could while his voice sounded like it had been produced through the mangled vocoder of a protocol droid, "I've climbed higher than this before."
Hapans/Mandals:
"With two good arms, presumably."
Sol:
"Yes, and not quite so high with one being bum. My point is I can do it."
Hapans/Mandals:
Never lean on rotten wood. Breis had to, with Catia out. His reluctance had to be shoved aside. But experience and caution told him to stack as many things that he could rely on around the element that he could not. "We go back down. We report. We figure out how to get you up there so you can work. Sergeant--you may be carrying him up. We'll see."
"Joy," said Buttercup, but it wasn't an argument.
Sol:
Never lean... Sol could read it on Breis Teimar's face. The Mandalorian didn't have to say it again. He was disengaging, backing up a step to move around Breis, walking, to reclaim the spear he'd leaned against the ship, "If we can set up some sort of pulley system with parts of the ship and strips of harnesses from the wakeks we might have enough that no one will need to carry me. But that's going to take time we're running out of, and someone to climb up there and get everything in place."
Hapans/Mandals:
"Better than you falling and dying for pride," Breis replied. "We'll do it. Sergeant--strip that dead wakek's harness. I'll bring the others backup. You two: do not get out of sight from one another." The man clearly expected his orders to be enough, because he turned to make his way back down.
Sol:
Sol's response was lost in a raspy croak of acknowledgement as Breis turned to start his way back down. Spear in hand, Sol moved toward the dead wakek to help Buttercup strip the harness.
Hapans/Mandals:
Little chitters of comms that were in bad shape came later, inadvertently announcing the fact that Breis was bringing the entire group up to the dropship. With their number so few, and their collective fitness so brittle, he didn't like them staying divided now that it was evident the invaders had not left a horde behind.
Sol:
The work with the harness done, Solomon had settled himself in the red dust that covered the ground with his back against the Leap of Faith. He's shut his eyes, but wasn't breathing too deeply. It was a moment of rest that he took, getting as close to sleep as he could get under the circumstances. He needed to let his body rest for what was coming next. The crackle of comms stirred him, Sol looking toward Buttercup to see if she had heard it, too. He's caught just the sound of noise. It was there, then gone. A quick little blip in his ear that gave hope his device could be fixed properly given the opportunity.
Hapans:Mandals:
"The speeder is scrap," Breis reported with a shake of his head and a sigh as they slid off the wakek. Catia was lowered carefully. Tavv'ari wasn't going to be helping much, so she'd already been assigned watch. Nen, who was in better shape but still feeling like he was on the edge of the unreal universe of Red dreaming, was likewise going to be stationed as eyes, and to look fierce, but probably wasn't going to last long if set upon.
Sol:
"No sign of the others down there, then?" Sol had pushed himself up when the wakek came into view. He wasn't going to be -much- help with getting the riders unloaded, but he did what he could.
Hapans/Mandals:
Catia was nestled near where Solomon had been resting; she did not stir.
Breis shook his head. "Dropped canteen; that was all." He showed the battered old thing, and offered it to Solomon as he got up.
Azair, astride the wakek, squinted past Solomon, then up and down the cable. "Did they come up that way, do you think?"
Which made Breis observe all the footprints across the surface of the dropship again. They were not clean spots in the dust, but places where the dust gathered more, as if damp. The idea had him maneuvering out across the ledge to chance a peek down the length of the cable again, to where it disappeared.
Sol:
Taking the canteen, Sol looked it over. Just a cursory glance for dents and wear that might have been new. His attention to it didn't last long. He looked up toward Azair as the Eyith spoke. Thankfully there was room in that for him to look back toward the cable where it disappeared down beyond sight. It was hard to feel comfortable with the notion that someone else was in control of the captain's body. Not having that in his direct focus made it easier, as did reminding himself that the bond between Azair and Liv was not detrimental. It was just strange in its newness, still. "If they did, what are the chances of it happening again?"
Hapans/Mandals:
"Who the hell knows--Rula, you're going to climb up there and help set up. When you're done, when he's up, you get back down here and help me keep watch that way."
Sol:
"Doc, will you be needing Captain Black's lightsaber?" He turned back toward the wakek, but didn't look up completely this time.
Hapans/Mandals:
Azair was there, looking just like Liv Black, Liv Tino, Captain Black, sister of Celestia Vikas. Her Hapan armor hid the fact that the Eyith's vines were all around her. The hesitation, the subtle balk, was not the sort of thing Liv herself might have shown. "It is... personal, the lightsaber, is it not?"
Sol:
It was that Azair looked like Liv that kept him from looking up. There were too many memories.... "It is," he rasped in response, "And it will be returned. I might need it up there -- but I won't take it if its needed down here."
Hapans/Mandals:
"Give it to him, doc," Breis said, coming over and holding up a hand. Azair was still mounted, having grown used over time to staying with the beasts he needed to control. "What he needs, he gets. The Captain will have to understand."
Azair's shoulders fell a fraction--Liv's shoulders fell a fraction. Surrender. Azair reached back and unclipped the hilt. Then he handed over something that did not belong to him.
For his part, Breis did not throw it. He delivered it directly to Solomon's hand.
Buttercup, still working with the harness strips, was quickly deciding how best to make use of what they had.
Sol:
"Thank you," was said to Breis while Solomon took the Captain's weapon into his left hand. It took him a second to decide just how to best keep the weapon with him.
swrpforum.proboards.com/thread/4851/lifeline
