mirannalegacy-blog

[mirannalegacy-blog]

Random NPC who will stop existing after I’ve finished their quest and I probably will never see again: Here, your payment. It’s not much, but it’s all we have.

Me:

Me: But you need that for your family

[mirannalegacy-blog]

Avant Le Deluge: Chapter 2

3.21.4 ATC                                          

Anndara

They had to leave today.  Despite all of Dr. Lo’s protests, Overseer Jerome had made it clear that they were not welcome on his station any more.  Anndara sat up in the medbed while the others sifted through the boxes Dr. Lo had put together for them.  She had been allowed to change out of the hospital gown.  With some assistance she had put on a baggy shirt and sweatpants, the legs rolled up so she could swap out the bandages in the evening.  It made her feel better to be in something clean that she hadn’t almost died in.    

Osanna came up to her, carrying a box that had been maked with Anndara’s name.  It was odd, being the one who had been unconscious for most of the time they had been together.  It seemed that they had all forged some type of connection, she could feel it.  Something in the force snaking between all of them, even her.  Osanna set the box down on the bed and Anndara took a good look at her.

She was about her height, on the short side for their age, and thin like her as well but she didn’t find that surprising.  Osanna had been born into slavery and the Sith were not kind to their slaves.  For the past three years Anndara had been...an experiment was one word for it she supposed.  Her eyes were bloodshot and Anndara was certain that hers were not better.  Her red skin was marked by the stripes of black that followed her lekku and matched the curve of her face, much different from the spots marking the green Regan.

“Dr. Lo and I put this together for you.  We...we found a hover chair too,” Osanna said, pulling off the lid.  

“Thanks, you didn’t have to, you know,” Anndara said.

“I wanted to,” Osanna replied quietly, “You saved my life and I feel responsible for…”

She trailed off and Anndara lowered her gaze to what remained of her legs.  She still couldn’t totally wrap her head around the idea that she couldn’t walk or that her legs were actually gone.  She kept thinking that they would just spring back into being or magically grow back.  Something.  It felt like...like she had lost a part of herself.  There was a substantial part that was gone in a literal way, but some other sensation gnawed at the back of her mind.  And then there was the phantom pains that were starting.  Just little twinges.  But they were there.  Dr. Lo had said once the initial med shots wore off they might become more common.  She hoped not.  But she couldn't regret what she had done, especially since this really couldn't be reversed, no matter how much she hoped.

“I couldn’t leave you behind,” She said.  Her pulse quickened and her breath shortened as a pain shot through the leg that wasn't there.  She gritted her teeth and shut her eyes, “It’s not what Jedi do.”

“You’re not a Jedi."

It was a very straight forward statement and she knew that Osanna didn't really mean anything by it, but it still stung a little.  Her eyes snapped open and she made a face, “well, it’s not what I do.  You saved me, I saved you.  We can call it even and say we’re friends.”

Osanna stared at her for a moment.  Anndara wondered if what she had said was outlandish until Osanna held out her hand.

“Dr. Lo taught me this last night.  You shake hands, right?”  She said.  Anndara smiled and clasped Osanna’s scarlet hand with her considerably less colorful one.  

“Right.  Friends.”

Osanna blinked and smiled a small smile, “friends.”

“So what did you pack me?”  Anndara said smiling as well for what seemed like the first time in forever.  

They shifted through the contents of the box, Osanna pointing out the fuzzy blanket and cryo pack a young family had donated, the box of mild painkillers a miner who had also lost his leg had given with a note of suggestions for adjusting.  There was a data pad with a small box of datachips.  Flipping through the chips she noted a few popular but rather outdated hologames, one from Dr. Lo marked treatment plan, and two from the Local Community Officer who had decided that they should have something to read and had issued them Imperial and Republic library cards (under fake names Anndara noted). It was an ordinary datapad, with a screen and holoprojector light, but it was set up to connect not only with the holonet but the library linkups.  She felt a rush of excitement.  Even if she was three years removed from her schooling she had always loved learning and reading.  Aurelia had been much more inclined to learning and sparring.  Anndara had usually been on the other end of those sparring matches.  It never ended well for her.  

“Did you get one of these?”  Anndara asked, holding up library chips. Osanna set down the very patched jacket she had dug out from the bottom of the box.

“Yes, why?”

“Have you ever used a library?”

“No.”

“Do you like reading?”

“I...I don’t know.”

“Can you read?”

“Not well?”

“I’ll help you.  We can pick out some books once we get on our way to...wherever we’re going.”  The sentence had started out excited and hopeful but ended in uncertainty.  Osanna nodded, her eyes going unfocused for a moment.

“We should get out to the ship,” she said.  Anndara agreed quietly.

“What’s this about a chair?” she asked.

“It’s right here,” Dr. Lo said, stepping into the room pushing the hover chair.  

The chair itself was standard Republic Government issue, complete with standard adaptive tech logos on the side, no flashy colors.  It was a contoured, padded seat with an adjustable back.  Two handles protruded from the top of the back.  The armrests extended from the back of the chair as well and had control panels set into the padding.

“So, It’s not great,” Dr. Lo mused, “but it will work.  It’s got a standard repulsor lift and motor.  But it wont go over a walking pace.  That’s a regulation thing.  Kinda stupid since you can’t get out of danger very quickly, we don’t typically let models like this on the job site because of that.”

“Why?”  Anndara interjected, “What if I get into danger, as I seem to be really good at that?”

“You’ll have to have someone pushing you or mod the chair on your own, but for civie use, this is the best you’ll get without a permit,” he replied, drumming his fingers on the chair’s back, “Some law about abuse of technology.  I don’t know why its like that, so that might be something you want to look into.  As for the basics, always remember to sink it with a ship’s artificial grav otherwise the change in relative motion will throw you at a wall.  Always charge it before going planetside and keep the extra battery pack in the base.  Typically it will run for three days without charging, but if you get into a situation where you can’t charge it, you’ll be a sitting duck.”

She didn’t like the sound of that.  Sure, a three day charge was great, but the idea of stalling out somewhere did not appeal to her.  It seemed incredibly undignified and the icey feeling of helplessness threatened to steel over her mind.

“Here’s the thousand credit question.  How do I get into it?”  She said, trying to focus on the present.  

“Right, here we go,” Dr. Lo said and he pried out one of the control panels from the arm rest.  “Most people like to keep one of the pads next to their beds or at their work stations.  Just keep it where ever you need to move in and out of the chair most frequently,” He explained.  He began to point out the different functions on the screen, “you have your basic elevation and speed controls.  Try brining it over the bed.”

She gamely took the controller and began adjusting settings.  She quickly learned that it was a fairly temperamental thing and that the controls were very sensitive as it collided with the ceiling.  She had only attempted to add five inches to the hight.  Great.  Just off to a great start.  She tried again, being more careful this time, and brought it as close to the bed as possible.

“This is the hard part.  Scoot yourself onto the chair.” Dr. Lo said, patting the seat.  Oh boy.  

                                                      _________

                                                          Regan

They had hit the JACKPOT.  HOLY BLASTERS AND ALL THAT WAS GOOD.  Regan stared in disbelief at the locker she had just broken into.  While the others had been packing up the donations and saying their farewells to the doctor, she had been making herself at home on The Horranth--Stars, they would have to change that name.  She had been rooting around in the crew quarters when she found a false panel (always check for smuggling holes the minute you acquire a new vessel, that’s what Dad always said), and the small locker that had been wedged in the compartment had taken some time to get it out.  And it was heavy.  Then there was the lock.  But it had all been worth it.  The credits, all 150,000 of them, gleamed at her.

Everything--and she meant everything--up until this moment had seemed absolutely hopeless after last night.  But now?  They could fuel this thing for months.  A YEAR maybe.  Part of her--the part that she had only ever listened to on occasion--whispered in her ear that the others didn’t haveto know.  She didn’t owe them anything.  This little voice from the back of her head was soundly beaten down by a vision of hellfire and collapsing walls and then the push.  It always came back to the push.  She owed them.  Not just Melyra, Melyra was her friend, of course she would share with her friend.  But the push.  She put her head in her hands.  That was life debt material right there.  She might not be a Wookie, but she could say she was in deep.

Aurelia

“That’s the ship we stole?”  

Aurelia almost started laughing at the awe in her sister’s voice.  Osanna and Melyra followed close behind them, bringing up the rear of their small column with some crates of dry rations on a hover cart.  The Horranth stood before them, a hulking shape of grungy, gunky green against the neat background of the station.  It was a deep bellied ship, its engines and thrusters housed at the rear of the vessel and the domed cockpit protruding slightly from its nose.  Windows were slashed along the starboard and port sides of the vessels, where she knew the crew quarters were.  There were no visible weapons systems, which in Aurelia’s mind was good.  But she had already had an earful from Regan about the necessity of defending themselves, she was sure the twi’lek had other ideas for modifications.      

“Yeah,” Aurelia said as her sister hummed along in the chair beside her, “What do you think?”

“Ugliest shade of green I’ve ever seen and bigger than any standard transport.  What is it?” she asked, eyes darting from cockpit to cargo bay where the boarding ramp was descending as Regan came out.

“That,” Melyra said as she adopted a rather pompous tone, “Is a modified Corellian W19 medium freighter with added bonuses such as a full working refresher.”

“So you were listening,” Regan called, Melyra blew a raspberry at her, “first time for everything I suppose.  Get your butts on board and strap in.  We’ve got a lot to do and I want to haul jets ASAP.”

Regan turned, waving them aboard.  Aurelia shot Melyra a quizzical look over her shoulder.

“She always this eager to be gone?”  She asked.

Melyra shrugged, “Depends.  There’s bad blood here now.  Jerome complicated things.”

Aurelia considered this for a moment.  She decided to let her curiosity drop.  She agreed that they needed to be gone.  There was no telling if the Empire suspected that they were still alive.  There would be a price on her head by now in the Republic as well.  She tried not to think on that at the moment.  She could ponder all she wanted in deep space.  She trotted up the boarding ramp.

She followed Regan into the belly of the beast and took stock of her surroundings.  It wasn’t that she hadn’t paid attention during their initial flight in The Horranth, but she had been a bit more concerned with keeping her sister alive.  It was big.  Not big like the military transports she had stowed away on to get to her sister, but big in a way that they could have a bolo-ball match in here if they wanted.  The walls of the bay were curved, but the view of the complete internal silhouette of the ship was truncated by floor of the deck above.  She knew that directly in front of them was the engine room as well as a comms room.  Above them were the cockpit, common area, armory, and med bay.  And Above that was the half level. The crew quarters.

“OK,” Regan said, cracking her knuckles and bringing Aurelia back to the present, “quick rundown before we take off.  I’ve got the nav computer hookd up and ready to run hyperspace coordinates to Lah’mu.  Its out of the way but not far from Dantooine, either.  And if we want to find work I know a guy there.  Not a lot of people on Lah’mu, fewer than Dantooine has left actually, so they’re always grateful for someone to run goods for them.  It is a pretty long haul, it’ll take a while to get there.  That is if we’re all sticking together.  Otherwise, Mel and I will drop you off wherever you want to go.”

She looked at the Koras and Osanna expectantly and they in tern cast hurried and confused looks among themselves.  Aurelia felt her sister shift uncomfortably.

“We don’t really have anywhere to go.  Our family is gone.  And I don’t want to think about what the Jedi would do to us if we went back to them now,”  She supplied, placing a hand on Anndara’s shoulder, “We all came out of a pretty rough situation and we all seem to get along.  So yeah, let’s do a job.”

Osanna nodded, “I don’t have any clue where I would go anyways.  If it’s okay, I’ll stay here.”

Aurelia noticed that Regan almost looked relieved, like a weight was being taken off of her shoulders.

“Cool,” she said, a grin creeping over her face.  She turned to Melyra, “Get the hatched secured and get ready for takeoff.”

The twi’lek skipped up the stairs, two at a time, pumping her fist as she chanted, “Let’s!  Haul!  Jets!”

Melyra rolled her eyes and turned to the panels next to the exit.  She began flipping switches and adjusting displays as the gangplank retracted and the hatch sealed with a hiss.  

“Sooo...” Aurelia said as the three of them were suddenly left with nothing to do, “Do we strap in?”

The floor began to shiver slightly and the hum of the engines filled the space.  Melyra cleared her throat as she walked behind them and began up the stairs.

“Yes, particularly if you’ve never jumped to hyperspace in a craft this small before,” she said.  As she disappeared onto the next deck she called, “and shut down that chair before the jump!  I’m not cleaning you off the walls!”

The ship lurched upwards. The three hurriedly clambered up the steps, pausing occasionally to help Anndara.  As they entered the cockpit they found Regan and Melyra in the pilot and co-pilot’s chairs.  Regan half turned to them and flashed a smile.

“Pretty fucking spiffy, huh?” she turned back to the controls as the ship gained altitude and they left the docking bay, “The previous owners of this ship might have been slime balls and shit decorators, but damn did their pilot know how to customize.”

She settled herself back in the seat a little more and pulled on the control wheel.  The ship pulled away from the station, the cockpit still facing it. It was like one of the zooming shots from the holofilms, Aurelia thought, as the station shrunk in size.  It was like...looking down at a miniature, glittering against the dark backdrop.  She plunked down in a chair and Osanna followed suit.  They heard a dull thud as Anndara powered down her chair and magnetized it to the wall at the back of the cockpit.

As they continued their trajectory, the view from the window spinning dizzyingly as Regan brought the ship to the angle she wanted.  Melyra was tapping at a screen and nodded at Regan once her hands had stilled.  Anticipation well in Aurelia’s gut.

“You guys ever actually seen a jump before?” Regan asked, reaching out to the control panel to grasp a lever.  Melyra did the same.  When Aurelia and the others quietly said no, Regan’s smile broadened as she said, “It’s a fucking treat.  Punch it.”

They pulled down on the levelers in sync.  The sky seemed to stretch before them, stars blurring into streaks.  It seemed to Aurelia that time and space stretched infinitely around them.  And then, like a child firing a rubber band from their fingers, they launched forwards.  The force hit her chest and pushed her into her seat.  It wasn’t surprising, she had felt the jolt on many ships before, but the breath went out of her as they were pulled into the hyperspace lane and the cosmos swilled around her.  Her eyes were wide and her jaw was slack.  It was quiet in the cockpit.  Regan leaned back in her chair and folded her arms behind her head.

“A real mcfucking beauty,” she said quietly.

[mirannalegacy-blog]

Avant Le Deluge: Chapter 1

Part one of Children of Divided Universe

Deep in the outer rim, five young women have narrowly escaped death on the fringes of unknown space.  They’ve decided to trust each other, but unable to flee to the Republic Core Worlds and with the suspicion that the Empire would very much like them dead, the stakes are higher than they know. 

This is my very self indulgent project to write my main character’s origin stories and their adventures through out the Star Wars the Old Republic story lines. Also on AO3:  https://archiveofourown.org/works/17191718/chapters/40422764

                                                   3.20.4 ATC

                                                     Anndara

The universe swayed and tumbled.  Anndara’s mind was hazy and the pain that coursed through her body sent spiraling tendrils through her mind, creating a siren song of unconsciousness.  But the cold pressure of the surface she was laying on and the coppery taste of blood coating the back of her mouth pulled her into the waking world.  Everything hurt. Someone took her hand and she registered the distant pressure. It was an unsteady hand, shaking and clammy, and she could hear hitched and trembling breathing nearby.  She tried to move her head or open her eyes, but her body did not respond to the sluggish commands. The surface she was laying on lurched and the person squeezed her hand a little tighter.  Voices flitted about her as the shaking became more intense.

“This is Regan Hyra on board The Horranth, we need emergency medical attention! I repeat, emergency medical attention!”

The voice was loud and steady, but there was a note of desperation in it.  

“What if she doesn’t make it?”  The imperial accent marked this voice as different, it was much closer and unlike the first was cracked and ragged.

“She’ll make it.”  This voice was quiet, but the conviction it held would have made a corpse decide that death wasn’t all it was cracked up to be.  The pain swelled once more and Anndara felt herself beginning to fall. As darkness closed back in around her mind, she hoped very much that the owner of that voice was right.

                                                     _________

                                                         Regan

On any other day, the sight of the Lyn-Taro Mining Facility would have been background noise to a regular day on the job with her parents.  On any other day, she would have thought that it was cool how stark the contrast was between the gleaming dove greys and whites of the station stood out against the jet black surface of the asteroid.  On any other day she would have passed out from the excitement of flying a freighter on her own. But not today. This was not any other day. This was in the top twenty of the worst days of her life. This was complicated by the fact that all nineteen of these other days were the past nineteen consecutive days and the closing ten days of the month held the promise of knocking this bad day out of the park.

Regan keyed the mic again as she brought the ship in for what was probably going to be an illegal landing anyways, she cleared her throat, “This is Regan Hyra on The Horranth.  Overseer Jerome, I know you’re gonna be pissed but we’re coming in anyways!”

She stretched across the console, taping at the landing display to bring back full manual control.  She hated automated landings. They were always too slow. She was in no mood for slow. The ship lurched as she forced it to doge yet another clump of debris.  

“Regan, what’s the status.”

The twi’lek didn’t look around as her companion approached the pilot’s chair.  After three months on the lamb with the Togruta, Regan knew she wasn’t asking about the landing permission.  Can we trust these people.  Can we get through this.

“We’re up shit creek.  I’ll talk us out of it,”  She said, as she pulled the ship into the docking bay, “Get her out as soon as possible, she needs to be stabilized.  We owe her that much. Keep her sister out of trouble.”

Regan heard Melyra jog away, hopefully to load their associate onto a stretcher for transfer.  As she set the ship down and heard the reassuring hiss of the landing gear taking the weight of the ship, she glanced out the window.  A group of people were running towards the ship. A medical team and she recognized the heavy figure of Overseer Jerome. She set her jaw, swung her self around in the chair and grabbed her jacket.  Show time.

Melyra and the red twi’lek Osanna were already down the ramp and passing the stretcher off to the med team by the time that Regan emerged from the ship.  The girl’s sister was hovering by one of the landing struts, watching them take her away.  Regan recognized some of the people, but she locked eyes with the now livid Overseer Jerome.  

The realization of how beat to shit they all were, never mind the mystery girl, began to sink in.  Melyra was covered in blood. The Togruta’s montral and lekku were burned and cut deeply in some places. Her arms were covered in bandages from burns and blaster bolts.  Swaths of Osanna’s face were turning from what Regan assumed was her typical crimson color to a purply-blochy mottling that didn’t do wonders for her complexion. Osanna had avoided most burns, but the robe that she wore had large chunks of the skirt missing and the belled sleeves had been signed away.  The sister’s face bore the unmistakable slice of a vibroblade wound that was only being held together by butterfly bandages. She also sported blaster bolt grazes cutting across her calves, fringed in by smoldering fabric and open to the air. She had refused any and all medical attention beyond the bare minimum. Regan was also now quite aware that the pain on the side of her face had subsided since applying kolto cream to her own burns but that the cream still covered most of the right side of her face and neck.  They didn’t look good. They were all desperate and deep fried in an almost literal sense. She had to keep Overseer Jerome in a charitable mood despite the goo on her face and the blood on everyone else. This was going to take some doing. The burly man stalked up to her and brought his reddened face inches from her own.

“Overseer Jerome,” she said brightly, pulling her face into what she hoped was a genial expression, “Thanks for the save!  We’d be dead meat if you hadn’t left the bay doors open--”

Before she could finish her sentence, Jerome cut in, his voice rising with each word, “We were in the middle of comms maintenance!  I have quotas to fill! Imps and Pubs breathing down my neck and now you! Compared to you decompression would be a joy!”

Regan’s bravado began to falter and her stomach dropped out as he then hissed in a deadly voice, “Where are your parents?  What the hell happened? Why are there a bunch of teenagers in my docking bay?”

She tried to rally herself, but the flash of images from the past months rose in her mind and her breath quickened uncomfortably in her chest.  She turned her eyes away, “That depends on who you ask.”

“I’m asking you runt.”

The tone caused her to snap her eyes back to him.  The intensity and severity of her gaze made Jerome take a step back.

“Then you best start nursing your best whiskey now,” she said dangerously quiet, “because you ain’t gonna like it.”

                                                  _________

                                                   Anndara

Her mind was still foggy when the med droid began tucking a blanket around her and the on call doctor began speaking to her.  The bright white of the room and the lights made everything seem to meld together. She felt very warm and...safe. It was a feeling that she let herself fall into.  It had been a while since she hadn't objected to sharp objects being near her.  She could feel the strange stretch of the tacky adhesive holding a sensor over her heart and one to her temple. The doctor’s form swam before her.

“How are you feeling?  Squeeze my hand if you can hear me,” The wavering face of the older zabrak man said.

She squeezed his hand.  

“Good.  We’re going to be moving you out of the operating theater shortly.  Honestly it was probably best that you came here. We have a lot of experience treating patients who have been injured by falling debris.  Okay, and lift.”

Anndara felt the jostling of being transferred from the stationary table to the floating gurney.  

“Okay, can you try telling me how your feeling?”

The lights and ceiling began moving.  If she moved her head just slightly, she could see the droid pushing the floating bed.  The quiet beeping of the monitor display that was connected to the droids arm sped up and slowed down occasionally.  She registered that it was her heart beat.

“Kinda fuzzy.”  She mumbled. Her throat felt very dry.

“Any pain?”

“No.”

“Excellent.  We gave you a fairly low dose of painkillers.  We can always give you more if needed.”

“Where am I?”

“The Lyn-Taro Mining station, Rayter Sector.  The med wing specifically. Do you remember the name of the ship you came in on?”

“Horranth, I think.”

“Good.  Can you tell us your name?  Do you remember who you came in with?”

She listened to the beeping as the doctor asked her questions.  She occasionally heard it slow down and a wave of sleepiness would pass over her.  The rational part of her mind that was only a little awake knew this was just the anesthesia but the primal part that was running full throttle sent a sharp knife of panic into her each time the beeping slowed.  She focused on her breath and keeping the beat steady.

“Can you squeeze my hand?  How are you feeling?”

The knife of panic ebbed.

“Yeah.  Anndara Kora.  My sister and...some other people.  Are they okay?”

“Good.  They are doing fine.  Anndara we’re going into your room now.  The medical droid will start you on some more kolto and some fluids.  Your IV is already in, you’ll just feel a little pressure when the fluids start, alright?”

“Kay.”

“Once you’re a little more back in the land of the conscious, I’ll have to talk with you some more and we’ll start having you drink some water.  I’m going to step out for about five minutes while I go get your sister. You are out of the woods and you’re in no danger.  With the standard procedure, you'll have all of your bandages off in three days, may be less.  You seem to be healing up very quickly.  If you need anything, the droid will call me or one of the nurses, all right?”

“Sure.”

The doctor squeezed her hand.  At some point the gurney had come to a stand still.  Rather than white, the room was now light blue with dim lights.  She worked her tongue around her mouth trying to bring some relief to the dryness.  She supposed this is what cottonmouth must feel like. She had never been drunk, but if this was any indication of what a hangover was like with the strange numbness and sticky throat, she never wanted to experience it again.  A few minutes passed. The world began to come back into sharper focus, and with it reality came sinking back in. She remembered the falling durasteel, reaching out with the force, pushing the others out of the way, and pain. She squeezed her eye shut, trying to block out the image of the burning and crumbling ship.  She began to deepen her breaths, trying to meditate to keep herself calm. It was a method she had used many times by now to reconnect with her body. She curled her fingers one by one, curling them in and pressing the pads to her palms, tensed her arms and untensed, pressing her shoulder blades back and into the padded gurney under her.  Then she flexed her feet...nothing...she felt nothing… Panic swelled through her as she attempted to bend her knees and only one responded. Her left leg pulled up from the bed while her right leg remained still, only the muscle straining to bend a joint that...wasn’t there. The panic bloomed in her chest and threatened to overwhelm her.  Distantly she heard the droid telling her that she needed to remain in bed, that she must calm down, as she pushed herself up with her hands. Her head spun as she sat up, pulling off the sheet to stare at her hospital gown clad body. Her eyes widened when they lighted upon the places where her left leg and her right foot should have been.  Her left leg ended just above the knee. Her right leg ended at her ankle. Both limbs were wrapped in bandages and kolto patches, but where the bandages ended, her legs were covered in burn salve and patched cuts. She let out a strangled cry.

��                                                 ___________

                                                      Melyra

Regan and Jerome had been in the Overseer’s office for a while now and Melyra was beginning to wonder if they were ever coming out.  Osanna sat on the sole chair, her robes neatly tucked around her, while the sister, who had introduced herself as Aurelia, paced the small office.  Melyra was leaning on the door frame.  She kept her eyes trained on the door to the infirmary wing and an ear out for the distant sound of Regan and Overseer Jerome’s raised voices.  She wasn’t confident they would be getting much charity outside of what they had already received.

“Do you think they’ll have to take her leg?”

Melyra looked up in surprise as Osanna spoke.  She had her hands clenched in her lap and her eyes down turned.  Melyra didn’t know what had passed between Osanna and the mystery girl, Anndara. No one did. What little they knew was that something happened that made Osanna very nervous.  Osanna wouldn’t even tell Aurelia.  Melyra had a distinct feeling that Osanna was afraid that she would be punished for what had happened. From what little she had gathered about Osanna, Melyra figured that Osanna had never been outside the Empire, maybe never even off of Dromund Kaas.  She also had the feeling that she had been raised as a kind of pet by a Sith lord.  At least that’s what she assumed.  And part of her didn’t want to dig too deeply into that topic.

“Probably.  I’ve seen enough field amputations to know,” she told the twi’lek.

This was obviously the wrong thing to say as Osanna curled in on herself and her tiny frame began to shake.  Aurelia stopped her pacing and shot Melyra a stern look. She moved to kneel beside Osanna and placed a comforting hand on her shoulder.

“She’s strong.  She’s survived this long.  She'd put herself in harm’s way to help any of us, that includes you.  This isn’t your fault. I know that if she were here she would want to say that.  It wasn’t your fault,” Aurelia said, soothingly. Osanna nodded meekly.

As she watched Aurelia comfort Osanna, it struck Melyra as odd that their positions were not reversed.  It was strange that Aurelia, the one whose sister was undergoing surgery on a backwater mining colony after being busted out of an Imperial transport, was the one doing the consoling.  The human seemed to know what she was doing, Melyra mused, and had had that confidence throughout this entire fiasco. She was good at keeping herself under control, even though she looked to be about the same age as Melyra herself.  Thirteen, fourteen, somewhere in there. She was, perhaps, the exact opposite of Regan who seemed to fly through every situation with only the vaguest comprehension and always seemed to get through anything by the skin of her teeth and her outstanding ability to bull-shit.    

Then she heard the click of a door opening and a conspicuous lack of yelling.  She turned and saw Regan fuming down the hall. The sleeves of her oversized and disticntly second hand aviator jacket scrunched up to her elbows and her hands balled into fists.  The look on her face would have caused a Manka cat to turn and run. Melyra and Aurelia both stood up straight as Regan stormed into the room.

“It went that good, huh?”  Melyra asked as the green twi’lek pulled a box from her pocket and began to shake out a thin white stick.

“Must you smoke?”  Aurelia asked, distaste dripping from every word, “And where did you even get those?”

Regan ignored her the first part of the girl’s question as she balanced a cig between her lips, but her hands were shaking so badly she was struggling with the lighter, “I pulled them off that bastard.”

There was a particular venom in her voice that Melyra had not heard before.  She crossed her arms and tilted her head.

“What happened?”  She asked.

“He didn’t buy half my story.  Which is fine, half of it was made up,” Regan said as her lighter finally clicked to life, “But I wasn’t about to tell him the truth about, you know,” she gestured to Aurelia and Osanna and the movement put out the meager flame,“Dammit.  But he got the gist. He knows we’re on the run from the Empire but also that the ship we were on probably had no other survivors. But I wouldn’t put it past the Sith to have some kind of black box,” she finally succeeded in lighting the cig and she blew a stream of smoke into the room, Aurelia looked at the twi’lek in disgust, “So the bastard said to go to the Republic and I didn’t tell him why but I said that wasn’t an option for some of us,” she shot a glance at Melyra and Aurelia, “So HE got upset that he might have a bunch of felons on his station and wants us gone once Anndara is stable.  But before one rotation is done.”

Regan took another pull on the cig and let out another plume of smoke, shifting her gaze up to the ceiling.  Melyra could almost feel Regan’s heart pounding and she saw the shaking in her hand that held the cig, the thousand yard stare, the labored and shallow breaths.  From the sudden flash of concern on Aurelia’s face, Melyra knew she saw it too.

“Reeg, what’s the coordinates for Corelia, Dantooine, Kessel, and Sullust?”

Regan inhaled sharply through her mouth and began mechanically listing.  Aurelia gently pulled Osanna from her chair and Melyra carefully pulled Regan over and settled her down in it.  

“What’s happening?”  Osanna asked looking puzzled at the sudden coordination between the Togruta and the human.

“She’s having a panic attack,” Aurelia said gently as she carefully plucked the cig from Regna’s trembling hand and Melyra knelt down in front of the green twi’lek and gripped her shoulders firmly as she began to breathe more shallowly, “could you get her some water?”

“O-okay,” Ossana stuttered and moved beyond Melyra’s line of vision.

Melyra looked Regan in the eye and began to exaggerate her own breaths, breathing noisily through her nose and out through her mouth with a hissing sound, waiting for Regan to begin copying her.  After several minuets of unresponsive trembling and desperate breathing, Regan’s eyes began to focus.  She followed the pattern, breathing in and out. Melyra could tell that she wanted to cry but she also knew that Regan wouldn't do that in front of the others.  Part of her wished that she would.  It would bring some catharsis to the weight she knew Regan was carrying inside her chest.  Regan leaned forwards and let her forehead rest against Melyra’s, eyes closed, still breathing deeply, but more quietly and evenly.  She carefully placed a hand at the back of Regan’s head, returning the leaning pressure.

Melyra could feel Osanna standing behind her, but she let the silence hang in the air for a time before she quietly said, “We’re going to make it through this.”

She pulled away to take the water from Osanna as Regan muttered, “We always do.”

She noted the tremble in Regan's confirmation.  It might be a while before it was gone again.  Melyra offered her the cup and she took it, taking a sip and the resting her elbows on her knees, her head hanging down.

“Sorry ,” she said her voice cracking.  The other three immediately began to protest.  

“There’s nothing to apologize for,” Aurelia replied, “I’ve had them too.  You cut it off very quickly. You’re doing well!”

“Yeah, you’re talking,” Melyra added.

Osanna nodded.  Melyra assumed she still hadn’t fully understood what was happening.  She didn’t blame her.

Regan looked up at Melyra, her body still shaking, and raised her cup to her, before taking another swig.  As Melyra nodded her head in acknowledgement, she heard the sound of running feet. She started towards the door-way when  the zabrak man skidded to a halt and panted, “Please come quickly!”

He was gesturing at Aurelia who immediately moved to follow.

“What’s going on,” Melyra asked.

“Miss Anndara is quite agitated, one of the nurses is with her now,” He said, turning and trotting away at a brisk pace.  Melyra half turned to Regan who was already standing up and waving her and Osanna to follow the Aurelia.

“I had hoped that she would not have tried moving so soon,” he continued as they moved down the hallway, “I had hoped that you would be there when I told her about her legs, but it seems I misjudge how quickly she would come out of the anesthesia.  For one as small as she is...that is to say, she has a very fast metabolism.”

“Yes," Aurelia agreed, rather distantly, “quite fast.  Is she alright?”

“Well, she is fine, physically,” The doctor replied as they passed through the medical wing doors, “But I believe she has attempted to remove her IVs and has thrown off every attempt to calm or restrain her.”

Aurelia broke into a run.

“Its room Five-Twenty--” the doctor began, but she had already rounded a corner, “never mind, she seems to know where she’s going.”

Melyra cast a cursory glance at him before picking  up into a run and following Aurelia.

                                                ________

                                                 Osanna

By the time Anndara had calmed down, the lights of the mining complex had already finished their cycle from their daylight simulation to their night simulation settings.   Regan and Melyra had stolen pillows from another room and had curled up on the floor. Osanna hovered in the doorway to the room, watching the sleeping forms of the sisters on the medbed.  Aurelia held her sister even in sleep. It was touching really, that they had each other. The peace of Anndara’s face a contrast to the anguish Osanna had seen only a little while ago. She tried to push the images away, but they filled her mind anyways, spilling over with washed out colors and deadened sounds.  

They had found her sobbing on the floor, a nurse and two droid standing over her.  One droid lay in pieces on the ground. Many of her wounds had reopened and the blood from the cuts on her face mingled with her tears in puddles beneath her cheek.  Heedless of this, Aurelia had laid down on floor facing her sister, she placed a hand on Anndara’s arm, and spoke to her softly. Osanna didn’t hear what she said, but something about what was said or how it was said had made Anndara’s sobbing redouble, and Aurelia just laid there and let her cry.  It had been then that Osanna looked at her legs. The bandages on her legs were pink in areas and…

Even now Osanna’s eyes lingered on the stumps where Anndara’s leg and foot used to be.  There was a type of horrid fascination that she didn’t like but it was bubbling in her gut all the same.  She had never seen a person who had lost limbs and it was disconcerting. And all of this roiled up the guilt.  She watched them for a moment more and then slipped away down the hall.

She walked the corridors of the facility aimlessly.  She wasn’t sure what to do with this whole no-one-telling-her-what-to-do thing. Once she had figured out what the Sith really we, she didn’t want to stay.  She should feel good about what she did. Now she just felt...empty. She could do...whatever she wanted. But what was that, exactly? How did this work? She tried to dig through all of her thoughts and feelings as she walked.  There was a lot to sift through. As far back as she could remember she had never left Dromund Kaas. Her flight on that transport with the Sith who had taken her out of her training had been the first time she had left the ground.  It had all gone so horribly wrong. It was her fault.

She must have left the medical wing and wandered into the living quarters because she found herself looking into a small kitchen and dining area.  The table was very clearly a hand-me-down or a relic from the dawn of time. It was dented and stretched and none of the legs were the same length.  There were a handful of datapads, some mugs, a pitcher, and several boxes on the table. At one end of the table, carefully pushing a block under one of the said table legs, was the zabrak doctor from earlier.  

He glanced up and smiled a little sadly at her, then righting himself and testing the table for stability he said, “If you can’t sleep, perhaps you would humor an old doctor and share a cup of caf?”

Osanna glanced around.  No one else was there, she couldn’t sleep, and she decided that it couldn’t hurt.  It was a small decision, but a decision nonetheless. She padded over to the table and settled herself in a chair close to the doctor.  

“I don’t believe you were in the room when I introduced myself to the others,” he said.

Osanna shook her head.  That must have been after she had seen them reconnect the IVs and she had run out to find the closest bin to be sick in.

“Doctor Lo, at your service,” he held out his hand.  She stared at it and then glanced back up at him, confused.

“You shake it,” he said encouragingly.  Osanna tentatively held out her own hand but was still very confused.  She had seen people bow to each other in greeting, but never this. Sith and Imperials tended to keep their distance.  It kept your lifespan a little longer. She had apparently let her hand hover in the air a little too long because Doctor Lo grabbed her by the wrist and pulled her hand towards his other one.  The sudden contact set off alarm bells in her head and she violently pulled her hand way, smacking the back of her arm against the chair next to her as she jerked back. Doctor Lo began to back pedal, his brain working overtime.

“Sorry, sorry,” he said, holding up his hands in what he was hoping a nonthreatening manner, “I was just…”

Osanna’s mind was chanting warnings.  She had pulled her hand away, that was bad.  Bad, bad, bad. The part of her brain that was rational reminded her that not a few hours ago she’d left the Sith and that this was fine.  The part of her brain that worked best when one is overtired, stressed, and very out of one’s element was also holding court with the very persuasive argument that trial and error up until this point had yielded fairly poor results.  It was a stand off, so she compromised, by staring at him wide eyed and remained rooted rigidly to her seat.

“Are you...okay?”  He asked, his voice carrying deep concern, “I was just trying to show you how to shake hands.”

“I-I don’t want to be touched,” she said, “I’m just…”

He was still looking at her like that.  It wasn’t helping.

“I’m new to this whole thing and I don’t like being touched.”

The words came out a lot higher than she would have liked.  But it felt liberating. Saying it out loud. She wondered if this is what Regan felt like all the time, just saying things.  What a way to live.

“That’s fine,” he said, still rather confused, “So I’m guessing you haven’t been out much?”

It wasn’t an insult, Osanna decided, just a weird question.

“I got to go outside when I was on Dromund Kaas,” she said defensively, I mean she had seen trees and animals and monsters and stuff.  

Dr. Lo looked at her blankly and quietly said, “Oh.  Okay. Um, what’s your name?”

Osanna looked at him curiously before deciding that this was probably fine.

“Osanna,” She said curtly.

“That’s a...ah….That’s a nice name.”

“Thank you.”

There was a long beat of silence.

“Would you like some Caf?”  He asked, gesturing to the carafe.

“What is...Caf?”  She asked, trying out the new word.

“It's a hot caffeinated drink made from beans on tropical worlds.  It's supposed to give you more energy,” he explained, “something of an acquired taste, though.”

She could do whatever she wanted.

“Okay.”

The doctor poured the dark liquid into a mug and pushed towards her.

“There you go,” he said encouragingly, “give it a try.  It is kind of bitter.”

She glanced at the mug and then back up at the doctor.  He smiled and nodded in what could only be described as a baffled but supportive way.  She scooped up the mug and sniffed the contents tentatively. It smelled...well she didn’t have the words for how it smelled.  She didn’t know how to describe food other than ration dry and soupy. But she liked it, whatever the smell was. She took a sip.  She pursed her lips and her eyes watered.

“I also tend to make it rather strong,” Dr. Lo said absentmindedly took a sip from his own mug.  She managed to choke down the bitter liquid and set her cup down.

“I don’t think I like it,” she said, attempting to get rid of the taste by smacking her lips.

“A perfectly reasonable response,” he said, chuckling into his mug, “perhaps tea would be more your speed.”

They fell into silence for a while yet again while Dr. Lo sipped his Caf.  Osanna glanced at the datapads and boxes on the table.

“Curious?”  He asked, gesturing to the accumulated piles.  She nodded, turning her gaze back to him.

“It’s stuff I’ve collected for you and your friends,” He said and Osanna’s eyes went wide, “Overseer Jerome made it clear to me that you all can’t stay here, however, Regan has also made it clear that you are “hurting bad and we have fuck all places to go.”  She’s always had such a way with words. I’m guessing you're one of the ones from a rough situation. She may not be the best person in the galaxy, but I know Regan. She practically grew up here. She wouldn’t ask me for help if she had no other options. So, I’ve been asking people for donations.  And I’ve pulled together some of our surplus. Not much, but…”

He waved his hand as if to say it was nothing.  Osanna’s eye prickled and she would very much like him to know that it wasn’t nothing.  

“Thank you,” she said, quietly.

“Your friend, Anndara, she’s going to need some adaptive tech like--,” he began, but stopped mid sentence as Osanna began to cry.  Dr. Lo raised a hand to pat her shoulder but thought better of it and settled for rubbing the back of his neck.

“It’s going to be alright,” he said soothingly, “I can’t help much because I need my job here and Jerome's an ass, but we’re doing the best we can.  I promise.”

“You didn’t need to do any of this,” she said wiping her eyes, “Thank you.  You care. Thank you. And it's my fault she got hurt and I’m so sorry. I’m so sorry that we’re here and that we’re problems and that I don’t know how anything works and--”

“Hey, hey,” he cut in, “I don’t know where you come from--other than Dromund Kaas, which is a little weird--but you’re doing good.  You’ve been through a lot and I’m sure it's not your fault that she’s hurt these things just--”

“She got hurt pulling me out of a collapsing room.  If I hadn’t been stupid--”

“You can’t control a collapsing room.  She helped you.”

Osanna continued to cry and Dr. Lo was at a loss.  His usual methods for comforting people were at a disadvantage in this situation, but there was also the fact that once Osanna had started crying, she couldn’t stop.  It was like a release valve had finally been opened on all her emotions and the only thing that made sense was to let it out. Her eyes were so obscured by tears that she didn’t see Dr. Lo get up, but she did see the tissue box that was pushed in front of her.

“Its okay to cry, too.  It's good, in fact,” he said as she took a tissue and dabbed at her streaming eyes, “Just let it all out.”

“Thank you,” she said as she buried her face in her tissue.