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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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May 27, 2009 13:48:30 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on May 27, 2009 13:48:30 GMT -5
Mal could hear it before he saw it... the things that were on the holo back when all of this was still in motion. The whurr of durasteel rotors as they bit into the cold smog of Coruscant struck a special kind of foreboding into the behemoth's heart. He had heard the seen on his homeworld, and while outdated they possessed agility, in the hands of a competent pilot of course, and far outgunned the little troupe of Mando'ade. Even with Ark in the mix, a pair of those things (outfitted correctly) could destroy an entire platoon of infantry if they weren't outfitted with Anti-Air missile launchers. Bane's Mando'ade weren't outfitted with Anti-Air missile launchers.
He was about to say something to the effect of: “get Down, Lia!” when he saw a pair of contrails streak in towards the building. The over-sized Mandalorian dove to the ground, pulling Lia along the way, and positioned himself so that his body would be in between the blast and her, much more fragile, form. He had barely hit the ground before a massive concussion wave compressed all of his organs together and effectively knocked the wind out of him.
He closed his eyes for but a moment before opening them and shifting his gaze over to the twin helicopters that hung there like a pair of predatory birds just waiting for their meal. Shooting at them would be less than worthless... they probably had shields to repel such small arms. All that he could do was simply glare at the metal beasts as they took in the moment before ending this “threat.” Then, he felt something peculiar: the trickle of warm water down his back. Blood. Mal looked over his shoulder to see more than a few pieces of shrapnel lodged in that hulking mass of skin and muscle that he called his back. Not a one pierced his rib cage, thank the Force, but they sure didn't help with his already eviscerated abdominal region.
Speaking of which, was in an insane amount of pain at that particular moment. He ignored it, however, which was easy despite the fact of the near crippling agony. Pain: An ephemeral beast, it is always fleeting... and dealing with it took discipline... for it was really only a mental battle that one needed to win. The man slowly got up and looked out at the two helicopters, then to the police officers, then down at Lia. Lia. She didn't deserve this. One of the few people who was actually good enough to see through his menacing exterior and treat him like a person. Then he saw Ark come out of the building and fire his massive cannon into the center of the barricade.
He knew what the cyborg was doing, and he didn't like it. Not one bit. Although it was the same thing that Bane, Lia, and himself were willing to do not half an hour before. The leviathan of a man looked up at the larger Mando'ade, his voice deep and thankful.
“Ark. You sacrifice will not be in vain.”
The man did not like the idea of leaving a fellow Mandalorian behind, it went against everything that he knew, but staying here with the ancient mando'ade would only be a spit in his face. He was neearly to the barricade when he saw the helicopters fire another pair of anti-tank missiles out of the corner of his eye. He barely managed to mouth “ohh shi-” before another compression wave washed over him. Mal turned back to see Ark's crumpled form on the ground laying in a pool of silver liquid. There was little he could do for the multi-ton cyborg... Lia, on the other hand, would most certainly be thinking differently.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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May 28, 2009 20:09:15 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on May 28, 2009 20:09:15 GMT -5
Silence, there was just too much of it.
It was almost surreal.
Almost.
The heavy, whooping, whir of blades slicing through air caught the attention of the auburn haired woman, her head snapping in the direction of the sound. Mal had already moved to be between herself and the barricade of men with weapons, so she had set to looking about for a way off this dratted platform. She'd just spotted a sewer grate when the twin birds arrived.
It was to late now.
Bane was shouting something, but she wasn't about to care what, she was already moving. Having seen the same blast of smoke, light and sparks that Mal had, the mando'ade had both moved to drop to the ground. She could feel the weight of Mal's arm hit her back as he attempted to pull her down with him, then, suddenly, Mal's considerable weight was shifting around her. The explosion that rocked them made her cringe and flatten herself more, covering her head and neck as best she could. The shock that followed the explosion was...considerable...making her gasp for air that had been lost during it, but most of the damage had been absorbed by poor Mal. He was protecting her, shielding her with himself, and he shouldn't have been...it was only causing him more harm.
Bits of debris, metal and various shrapnel rained down upon them mercilessly, but she was fairly unharmed from the blast, only receiving the cuts and bruises from whatever sharp and heavy objects fell from above, already slowed in their flight. She pressed a hand to Mal's arm and nodded in silent thanks, and signifying that she was, indeed, alright...well...more like she hadn't been injured any MORE than she was already. Blazing green eyes turned toward the deadly raptors that hung suspended in the air before looking in the direction of the barricade. They had to have something they could use against those heli...
Her thoughts were interrupted by the heavy sound of metal on stone as she was beginning to lift herself up again. Turning her head to see what it was, the sight of Ark met her eyes. Yes, someone that could do something about those things! She got herself shakily to her feet at last, just as her grandfather had blasted away part of the barricade of metal and person on the other side of them. By now, her hand was numb, dead with the pain from her torn finger, and the rest of her pain was being seared away as her foggy mind slowly realized that Ark was not about to be coming with them. Mal's words only made the woman more angry, and she stiffened visibly. Her culture told her to leave and allow the cyborg his glory, but her heart refused to let that settle. She'd only just met him....he was family, though, and she couldn't lose another family member.
Not now. Not this way.
Another explosion rocked the area and she staggered backward, the air being forced from her lungs as she swiftly turned to the side, to make herself as small a target for the flying shrapnel as possible and bringing an arm up to shield her face. Sharp splinters of metal pricked through her clothes and into the skin of her arm, leg and side, but nothing that would damage her too severely...not unless blood loss got to her first. That was entirely possible at this rate. Looking back, the crumpled and twisted metal form of Ark met her eyes.
BA'BUIR, NO!
The emotional pain, the anger, brought a new fire to her eyes, a feral spirit clawing its way out of the depths of her at the sight. She wanted nothing more than to tear something apart with her bare hands, to kill everything in her sight that wasn't an alley. If the woman hadn't been a hellcat, a demon, or a fire goddess before...she certainly looked to be one now, every inch of her bristling with anger, emerald eyes catching and reflecting the fiery color of her hair which swept about her in the gusts of wind that had picked up as they had exited the museum. She swept the scene. Bane was closest to the wreck that was Ark, and maybe, if they were lucky, his brain case would be intact so....
Again her thoughts were interrupted as the remaining men behind the barricade shouted and charged toward the three remaining mandos. Now their men were involved, the birds rockets were useless...they wouldn't fire on their own...and she was out for blood. She'd make them all pay for what they'd done.
NO ONE touched her kin, and force help the poor soul that killed one, or tried to.
Since she couldn't get into the birds to take down their pilots, the spitfire of a woman decided to take down as many of these worthless, pathetic, inbred (could you tell she was angry?), fools as possible before dieing herself. She'd already resigned herself to it when the first wave of men came rushing at her.
Poor fools...
Rule number one: Never make a mando angry, especially when that mando is a woman.
Rule number two: Never make Italia angry, especially when she's just lost a family member.
Rule number three: Never make a mando woman angry when she's just lost a family member...especially not by killing another family member.
...They'd just broken all three rules....
There was a saying, in the Mando'ade culture: Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger"....Italia had striven all her life to uphold this saying, to live it, to make it part of her...now was no exception.
I am a daughter of the Mando'ade...and I am stronger than you think...come and die for me.
As soon as that wave of officers reached her, the woman was a blur of color and motion: twisting, ducking, kicking, striking, flipping, dodging. Noses were shoved up into brains by the heals of her palms. Necks were broken. Bodies were used as shields. Knees and feet went places no man ever wished them to go. Legs, arms, and ribs were broken. Joints were dislocated. There were injuries, but she didn't care, she didn't even know what half of them were. She held no regard for that injured and torn finger any longer.
Her blood mixed with that of those she fought. The crunch of a bone under her boot and she grinned wickedly. Arms flew out and wrapped around the necks of two stunned officers, ramming their heads together with a sickening crack. A dagger tore at her skin and she dug her fingers into the eye socket of the offending wielder, gouging out his eye before booting him in the chest and shoving herself out of the way of an oncoming attack as she flipped backwards, hands landing on the rough ground before she found her feet again, instantly ducking and turning as the sound of shots reached her ears. An arm was seen from the corner of her eye and she latched on with nails digging into the cloth and then the skin, and shredding it as she turned and ran her good hand up under the arm of another on comer, hitting the pressure point there before elbowing him hard in the base of the head.
Get Ark's brain tank!
Previously occupied clawing hand found the nose of another officer, killing the woman as the bone and cartilage of the nose was shoved up into her brain. A duck and turn, another injury to her person, this time her leg and the burn of heated plasma. Knee met groin, heel met ankel, elbow met ribs...another crack of bone. Palm met chest, the force of the strike stopped the heart and the officer went down. Red was everywhere, clothes, face, hands, hair, herself, others, ground. Cries of pain, anger, fear, confusion. Pain....no, there could be no pain. Ground was lost. Ground was gained. Crack of bone...hers, a rib...pain.
No...there could be no pain.
The woman seemed to be tireless at this point, her thinking one of only the most basic standards. What was. That was all Italia knew. She only knew what there was around her. There was no distinction. No conscious thought except the one to will away her pain. She struck out at just about anything that came into reach of her if it was possible. Green eyes flashed and glinted as she moved in the crowd of officers that was trying to subdue her. Red hair flickered in the dieing light of day as she gave ground, some part of her mind working to get back to where Ark was.
Snapping of neck, drop the body. Knees are weak, kick there to take down. Elbows are strongest, avoid them. Exposed back, hit spine hard. Motion there, move now. Extended arm! Grab and break! Neck in reach, snap, new shield! Gun! Turn. Shield destroyed, drop it. Pain! No, there can be no pain. Focus! Extended weapon! Grab. Fire. Neck, snap, new shield. Fire. No ammo. Shield now diversion! Shove it at them! Duck! Roll! Dagger? Mine now. Chest open, palm strike. Motion there! Stab, slice, duck. Caught! Pain! Warm liquid...blood. Arm there! Grab, twist, dislocate, drop. ...Dizzy... No! No giving up!
Her mind was getting more clouded, reactions were slower, and she was beginning to feel dizzy. Still she refused to give up her fight. Not until every one of these pieces of filth had felt her wrath.
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
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May 28, 2009 20:57:11 GMT -5
Post by Jace on May 28, 2009 20:57:11 GMT -5
Explosion, which one was this? there weren't enough fingers on both hands to count. Fingers....He was lucky to still have all of them intact, not to say that they weren't bloodied and/or broken. Of course, that was only the beginning in his long and distinguished list of current injuries. Three ribs broken, at least, yet they somehow had not managed to puncture his lung. He could barely stand up due to the piece of shrapnel that had pierced his thigh only minutes earlier. All in all, he was pretty beat up, but a little pain never stopped a Mandalorian. A missile on the other hand...even Bane would have trouble dealing with one of those.
Just as Bane was about to make his way towards the others, another puff of smoke appeared from the helicopter again. His muscles tensed as he dived forward, hitting the ground hard, as a another explosion rocked the ground behind him. He got up, well as fast as the disorientation allowed him. It was around this time that Bane heard a loud scream, which sounded much like Italia. Bane turned around to see Ark, or at least what was left of him. He clenched his fist tight, only hearing the dripping sound of his own blood hitting the ground. The battle, the pain, they all seemed to be on hold for these few seconds in time. NO, this what not the time nor place for this.
In an instant, all the sounds,pain, and battle came rushing through Bane. He almost lost his balance, but managed to stay upright by some miracle. He was about to shout out orders, when he watched as Italia went into a frenzy. He had seen the girl fight zealously before, but this was pure bloodlust. He had seen this many times, and had only avoided it through his cold detachment. This was the most basic, primal expression of any Mandalorian. When the deadly warrior turned into a vicious and uncontrollable animal. Bane watched on with admiration, anger, and even pity. He was soon pulled out of his observation by another loud shout from Italia. Apparently she still was aware of her surrounding, at least some of it.
Bane made his way back to Ark as fast as he could, stopping at his broken form.
"You fool, you always were an idiot"
After a quick search, Bane finally discovered the the ejection button for Ark's brain case. He quickly hit, and was rewarded with a hiss as it ejected. He grabbed the case and the necessary part and turned to where Italia and Mal were.
"Mal! grab Italia!lets get the hell out of here!"
Italia hadn't been the only one to notice the sewer, and Bane was already making his way towards it. He kicked in the entrance to the sewer, which was rusting and made for little resistance. They just might make it out of here in one piece....well most of them would.
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
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the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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May 28, 2009 21:10:58 GMT -5
Post by Mara on May 28, 2009 21:10:58 GMT -5
Ambria stood near Itani in the cockpit of the Star, blindly staring off through the viewport at the area of Coruscant they were parked in. Waiting. She had to keep staring straight ahead to avoid looking down at her chrono for the current time. Whether she focused on it or not, it kept moving ahead, minute by minute, seemingly faster than it should have been. She could almost feel the seconds clicking by in her chest, pounding in sync with her heartbeat.
This couldn't be happening to her. She just transferred to Spec. Ops. and was assigned this team. Ambria didn't want to lose her comrades before she even got to know them. She knew it wasn't the Mando way to be emotional about death, about giving one's life as a sacrifice for the whole, but she couldn't help it. Though her face was stony and unfocused, her insides were a turmoil of emotions.
She couldn't get the sight of the museum out of her head as she had turned the transport around after dropping off Ark. Swarms of police were surrounding the large building, and there were still three team members inside. Three against.... hundreds? Even for a Mandalorian, the odds weren't good.
Her thoughts strayed even further, going back to when she was back on Mandalore. To the battle where... she swallowed. The battle where she had lost her husband. Only newly married, she had just gotten used to living with him, to being his wife. Just as she had just joined up in the Mandalorian Spec. Ops. Only to lose him to an errant shot during the commotion. Ambria was afraid it would all happen again. But this time she could not run away from her problems. She was too old for that, too immersed in the military life.
No, Ambria had to think positive. Her team would come back before time was up. She and Itani would stitch them up and they would get the hell out of Coruscant with their basilisk droid. She didn't care how long she would have to patch wounds and do minor surgery. As long as she had three alive Mandos to work on, she would work days straight if she had to to save their lives.
Feeling a little more positive, somehow feeling they would be returning, the dark-skinned woman finally tore her gaze from the gray of Coruscant to look down at her chrono. 10 minutes remained in Ark's commanded timeline. 10 minutes for Ark to return to the Star with Bane, Mal and Italia. 10 minutes before they had to lift off.
10 minutes...
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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May 29, 2009 2:07:25 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on May 29, 2009 2:07:25 GMT -5
”I am a daughter of the Mando'ade... and I am stronger than you think... come and die for me.”
Mal's mental “aww hell” alarm began to sound as he heard those chilling words leave Lia's mouth. There was no need for this... and yet, strangely, there was. He knew what was about to happen: She was about to charge into the gaggle of officers head first and most likely die in a blaze of glory (but mostly anger) in the midst of the mob. He considered rushing in to help her... but it would have probably only earned him a grievous wound for attempting to help a woman who is so thrust in to a blood lust. He had tried before... and did not exactly want to go through that experience again.
He found that he could only watch in a kind of dreaded amazement as she fought with the horde of officers. The leviathan of a man considered shouldering his rifle to assist his comrade... but decided against it. She could just as likely move into his cross hairs with the utter speed and agility of her movements... and shooting her was the last thing that he wanted. Then the anger in him rose up as the whish of those rotors met his ears again.
Angry blue eyes shifted up to the creatures that loomed above the battlefield, soaking in all of the splendor of their “victory.” No. He could not hope to damage these metallic beasts. But, he would, vent his anger on them nonetheless. The side of Mal's face contorted and twitched so that he looked like an angry hound as he slowly shouldered his mammoth rifle. An angry, eight foot tall, four hundred pound dog. The behemoth let out a yell as he unloaded the last of his ammunition one of the steel monsters. Malak did not care if his efforts were in vain... he needed to shoot at something. Something that wasn't Lia.
The helicopter pilot. A wry grin pursed his face as he watched the anti-tank missiles crash into the war droid, causing the beast to crumple to the ground like the child's play thing that it was. These damned crooks had killed more of his friends than he cared to count... and now? Now they were about to face the music. He slowly angled his Crisis so that its heavy particle cannon was bearing down right on an insanely tall man, who happened to be aiming right back at him. What an idiot. The only part of the chopper that he could even hope to damage was the cockpit, and even that was protected by layers and layers of anti-blaster transpari-ceram-. His musings were cut off by a fifteen milimeter slug traveling at about six thousand five hundred feet per second smashing through his chest.
Then another through his stoma.
And another.
And another.
The pilot lost control of his vehicle after the first shot, and it responded in kind. Helicopters that weren't under the constant watch of a pilot tended to go rather... crazy... spinning about for awhile. That is just what happened.
The helicopter that Mal was unloading his BFG into began to spin around on a dime, its tail whipping around faster than his eyes could seem to track. He watched in morbid satisfaction as the helicopter whipped around until it slammed into the side of a building, sending duracrete and metal flying every which way. The remains of the helicopter lazily flipped around on its side as it plummeted to the ground, making a resounding crash and a rumble at Mal's feet as its decent was brutally stopped by one of the police vehicles. All that he could manage to utter was:
“Woah.”
The “shields” that were stopping the massive hypersonic slugs were, in fact, nonexistent. Not that Mal knew this. So, his crystalline blue eyes simply grew wide as dinner plates as he looked down at his matte black weapon. Yup, he liked it. Liked. It. A lot. He was about to reload when he heard the Colonel call out to him.
Mal! Grab Italia! Lets get the hell out of here!
Bane didn't have to tell him twice. Mal was plowing into the little crowd that was now forming around Italia with but a few strides of those ridiculously long legs of his. He had no more time for games. The man wrapped his massive arm around Italia's abdomen and heaved her upwards, pressing her into his chest with his arm.
She would, no doubt, struggle.
The man sprinted full speed towards where Bane made his entrance. Suddenly he felt a searing heat on his shoulder blade as that side of his body was jerked forward. They were shooting him. Another wash of heat threw itself against the man's back. Then another against his arse. Almost to the entrance. Another hit his shoulder. He couldn't keep this up for long... his mind may be (relatively) numb to the pain, but his wounded flesh couldn't handle the strain.
Another hit his back. Another. Another. Another. His steps began to lose their stability and fluidity as he neared the entrance. Another. The final step to the door took years for him to make as another bolt hit his back. When he was finally inside the man managed to slam the broken and rusty grating against its frame... it wouldn't close... but it would have to do.
Lia could struggle all she wanted to, she could even hate him if she willed. He didn't care. She was safe.
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Zarkan
Octoboobies! omnomnomnomnom
2,407 posts
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Mists of time swirl about the mists of the mind.
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last online Jan 13, 2021 9:20:45 GMT -5
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May 29, 2009 13:59:22 GMT -5
Post by Zarkan on May 29, 2009 13:59:22 GMT -5
Ark flared as he saw lia crash into the mass of police. "That idiot girl." he groaned to himself before pushing up staggering towards lia before losing his footing and crashing back to the ground. Lights in his Hud flared as the heli's peppered his back with blaster bolts searing pounds of armor off the cyborg's carapace. As ark lay there struggling to return to his feet the assault continued as flash of light high above announced the flight of a anti-tank missile. Ark's body groaned with the impact huge chucks flying in all directions as the robotic bodies back was ripped asunder under the assault. Warning lights flared in ark's sight as the damage control systems struggled to deal with the damage. Slowly with the last of the frames integrity ebbing away he struggled to his feet. Stone cracked under his feet as he stumbled froward to lean against a SWAT APC. In a flare of rage he lifted the APC clear of his head and flung it with all his might at his tormentor. His body failed him at that moment as he crashed to the ground his reactors now exposed to the air glowing red hot on the verge of failing. Soon Bane filled his photorecpetors the man gropeing near the droids head. "ListenYou have to go, get lia away the, the reactors will fail." Suddenly ark was cut off lost in a inky blackness small lights flickering around him, but he knew they where only figments of his imagination. "let them leave." he said deep in his mind.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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May 30, 2009 5:23:18 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on May 30, 2009 5:23:18 GMT -5
....Dizzy....
Another round of officers came for her, she dodged under their barraged of batons, combat knives, and punches. She struck out at the next thing that moved (an arm), and latched on with claw like nails, ripping the officer forward before grabbing the other arm and head butting the idiot in the throat as she tried to keep her face away from the wildcat of a mando. Using the choking woman she had gripped onto, Italia balanced on her kicking the officers behind back and away from her.
...Dizzy....tired...pain...
She released her captive as she fell to the ground, dead of suffocation, and at that moment Mal's large arm wrapped around her waist and hoisted her up. Now, with nothing but the feeling of fear and being captured, the auburn fought back more viciously as she tried to escape, her form writhing in her attempts. Another wave of dizziness and pain, the sun went dark and the world went quiet...finally the woman stopped struggling, practically going limp in the man's grip. Tears streaked her face as her mind slowly returned to her and she started to comprehend the situation.
Ark...he was likely dead. He'd been damaged when she'd seen him last, but after that...she knew there'd been more happening around her but what? Who was carrying her? What of Bane and Mal? Why the hell was it so dark...just where WAS this? Where was she being carried off to? Another wave of dizziness and she let out a groan as her stomach lurched.
Get your head together girl...come on, you're clever, figure it out!
Italia pushed through her foggy mind, the urge for sleep threatening to take over her mind and consume her in darkness. Slowly she started to piece her surroundings together. The man who carried her...his arm alone was huge...that alone told her it had to be Mal. She was safe then...alright. There was more than just Mal's footsteps...Bane must be with them. Good. The darkness, the quiet, the...scent...said sewer. At least they were making a get away. Even better. There was only one more thing her foggy mind needed to know...
Did...did someone....help Ark?
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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May 30, 2009 10:00:35 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on May 30, 2009 10:00:35 GMT -5
((OOC: Sorry, I couldn't resist.))
Mal let out a quiet sigh as she suddenly went limp as a dead fish in his grasp, and for a little while he feared just that: Death. One of the few girls to actually treat him like he was more than he actually considered himself to be – a killing machine - was now dead because he didn't do anything to help her after she delved into her bloodlust. For fear of what? Pain? Lia weighed how much again? He guessed she weighed a solid hundred and thirty pounds. He was afraid of what a woman who weighed just over one fourth of his weight. And now? Now she was dead because of that fear. No, she wasn't dead, he could still hear her quiet breathing now that they had gotten a decent distance from the battlefield.
It seemed that the adrenaline and various other chemicals that coursed through his blood began to dissipate with every step away from the warzone. It started with the blaster wound on his leg, now every time that his weight bore down on it a lance of pain shot up his spine and rattled his mind. He was favoring that leg a mite. Then the feeling began to work upwards until he could feel his gut wound. He nearly wanted to double over, but then that would mean even more pain at the hands of the vile bacteria that inhabited the area's surroundings. By the time that his feeling returned it took the behemoth everything he had not to collapse, and his strength was fading quickly.
The man slowly shifted the woman in his grasp around so that one forearm held her knees and the other supported her back and head. This action made it possible for him to continue carrying his burden and make it considerably more comfortable for the woman at the same time. She did deserve that much after all: comfort. It took his weary and pain logged mind a few long moments to register, translate, and process the words that Italia uttered. Mal shifted weary eyes over to Bane, who was dragging Ark's braincase, before averting his crystalline blue gaze back to the woman in his grasp. His normally deep and resounding voice was now deathly quiet and pained, but if he spoke any louder he feared of doing more damage to his innards. But the... he was probably going to succumb to this anyways, so why bother?
“Yes... B-bane has A-ark's case.”
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
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Jun 1, 2009 11:00:41 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Jun 1, 2009 11:00:41 GMT -5
He didn't move, the exit was right there, but he didn't move. He had injuries all over but they were not the reason for his inability to move. Bane instead was focused on two people whom he had met only days before. Fear was not what kept him immobile as it did for so many normal people. Bane wasn't a normal person though, he was a Mandalorian. He was not filled with fear or anger, but with a fire that could only be attributed to pride. He had watched this young girl prove herself again and again through the course of the mission. Even now when escape was possible, she fought harder than she ever had before. The opposite end of the scale was the behemoth, who decided to hold his ground against a helicopter. He not only made a stand, but managed to shoot the hulk of metal down through sheer tenacity.
The Helicopter crashed into the ground, and the pride Bane felt was replaced by reality. There was still more for his people to do before their time, and it was his duty to get them out of here. He looked down at the braincase he was holding, one friend was more than enough for today. It was then that he shouted for Mal to grab Italia and follow him. Bane waited until he saw Mal charge for Italia, before turning into the sewer entrance and his exit. He quickly placed what few charges he had left on the sewer entrance, and then continued into the sewer. It was soon after that Mal followed, carrying Italia in his arms. Bane waited until they were clear and then detonated the charges to seal off the entrance.
That will hopefully buy us enough time...
Though the sewer was dark, Bane could still tell that Mal was in a bad shape. Though Bane himself was injured in several places, he wasn't in as nearly a bad state as Mal and even Ark for that matter. The only thing he could do about it now was to get them onto the ship. They didn't have much time before the Ghost Star would take off and head back to Concord Dawn without them. Bane was keeping track of the distance they had been walking in the sewer, and finally decided it was safe to go topside.
He made his way up the ladder towards the exit of the sewer, only slowly opened it up. He looked onto the street and found it practically empty. Fortune seemed to finally be smiling on them after all that chaos. He looked down at his watch and realized there was only a minute left before the rest of the squad took off. He thumbed his comm on and transmitted to the Ghost Star.
"GS, this is Bane, do you copy?" He said gruffly into the unit, each word causing him considerable pain. He waited until he received acknowledgment before continuing.
"There is an empty construction lot, approximately half a click from my current location. Rendezvous there for extraction, Bane out"
He quickly arraigned Mal of the situation and made their final press to the extraction point. They arrived there ten minutes later, after a laborous journey to the construction site. Bane turned and looked at his beaten and exhausted team. They had accomplished their mission, and somehow managed to get out of the museum alive. He heard the familiar sound of a ship approaching and relaxed ever so slightly.
"Its time to go home people..."
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Jun 1, 2009 11:40:22 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jun 1, 2009 11:40:22 GMT -5
Trin was suddenly pulled out of her laughter by a crackling sound on the radio. She dialed it in a little clearer, and she suddenly recognized Bane's voice. The moment of humor and smiles was suddenly over when reality came back with dizzying suddenness. A mixture of hope and a little bit of fear filled Trin's mind at the sound of Bane's voice.
He was alive, and if Bane was alive, then the others should be too, be wouldn't have left anyone behind without dying himself. That was the hope. The fear came from Ambria's talk about fixing people up, and the knowledge of just how many foes her brave comrades had faced. They were sure to see much worse than a shot to the arm wound.
But Trin had little time to feel ashamed. She turned on the comm to answer Bane's call, affirming that they were there and could hear him. Bane responded with a location to pick them up and Trin nearly bounced in her seat. She turned to both Itani and Ambria, her eyes both urgent and elated.
Let's go! Who can fly this thing? Trin could help, but with one arm numbed up, she couldn't pilot the ship on her own. One of them would have to do it.
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Latus
May the Quartz be with you.
850 posts
0 likes
Ain't got time for this. (?°?°??? ???
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last online Jun 27, 2014 19:37:36 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jun 1, 2009 19:01:29 GMT -5
Post by Latus on Jun 1, 2009 19:01:29 GMT -5
He had zoned out, allowing his mind to wander over and among the twists and turns that had presented themselves over the past few hours. Time was running out and there was no word from Bane or the strike force. Gingerly he ran his hand down the injured arm of Trin, his mind floating over her once or twice as well. The line of blues that had been constant over the last forty-five minutes had ebbed to nothing which could mean so many different things. He briefly thought of Lia, Ark, Mal, Bane; were they all right? His thoughts were answered as the com crackled to life and Bane's voice met his ears, obscured with some amount of interference. It was certainly a welcome relief.
"There is an empty construction lot, approximately half a click from my current location. Rendezvous there for extraction, Bane out.
A smile slowly spread across Itani's lips. Though sounding quite a bit worse for wear Bane was alive and, hopefully to that same logic, Lia and the others were as well. Snatching up the receiver he spoke as clearly as he could, allowing some of his excitement to leak around the edges.
GS copies Bane. See you soon.
His heart pounded in his chest as Trin spoke. While her concerns were founded she needn't have worried. The Ghost Star was not unlike other craft he himself had flown before. An assassin had to cover all possible angles which included hijacking and the like. Without answering her he slid into the second pilot's chair and ran a hand over the console punching the random button and switch here and there. Pausing to look over at Trin he gave her an almost imperceptible wink.
We are running short on time here, ladies. Hold onto something. Ambria, after we hit hyperspace I will help you with the injured but I think I'm the only person able to fly the Star at this point... sorry Trin.
Pulling back hard on the control stick and jamming the throttle down hard the Ghost Star left the permacrete and rocketed away from the landing pad. With carefully honed precision Itani guided the ship in and around the lanes of traffic, attempting to make it to the LZ as quickly as the massive ship was able. Glancing down at the readings he was relieved to see that everything showed normal but the Star was still flying sluggish. The sheer weight of the basilisk was slowing her down just enough to be annoying.
A few tics later saw Itani putting the Star down among several pre-fab and unfinished buildings. He had miscalculated their landing somewhat and the landing struts creaked and groaned in protest as the ship settled.
GS to Bane. We are at the extraction point and awaiting your arrival; any time now would be nice...
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Jun 1, 2009 19:40:19 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Jun 1, 2009 19:40:19 GMT -5
((Already asked Jace for a list, but if you guys could just give a rundown of your characters' injuries, starting with the worst.. that would help out me/Ambria a lot. ) 5 minutes... 5 min-- Ambria's body almost jerked when the comm in front of her crackled to life. It took her a moment to realize that it was Bane's voice coming through the console. And another moment for her to realize that hearing his voice meant he was alive. Alive! And if Bane was still alive, the others must be too. Though her experience with the man was little, she knew enough that he wouldn't ask for the Star unless the entire rest of the team was coming with him. Ambria let a small smile cross her face in a moment of relief. They had gotten the basilsik droid and there had been no casualties to their team. Not yet. Not yet. That harsh reality hit her a second later when she remembered what they had been up against inside the museum. Ambria wasn't usually a negative person, but the odds were that the team had sustained injuries. She had thought of the possibility earlier, but now everything was coming to the forefront of her mind. Bane sounded fine, but that gave no hint to the extent of any injuries he might have or that the others may have sustained. The woman thanked the stars quietly that this ship had a medbay. And with the supplies given to her earlier by Itani, she should fair okay until they got back to the HQ on Concord Dawn. Her job was just to patch things up enough until they could get real medical attention. For a brief moment Ambria wished she had thought about going into some medical training and not just relying on what she learned on the battle field. But it was too late for that now. In a few minutes, they would all be aboard. She nodded at Itani's short answer that she barely caught after coming out her thoughts, not hearing him mention to hold onto something, not knowing he was about to lift off and punch the engines. No time to think of anything else but the rest of the team and how she would help them. But she also couldn't let herself daydream either. Ambria also understood that he wouldn't be able to help until they entered hyperspace; that was granted. The Star being his sister's ship, she was sure he would be the most qualified to fly it. And she was sure enough in her abilities that she could stabilize Bane, Mal and Italia enough in the few minutes it would take to exit sublight. No, by the time the ship got moving, Ambria was already in motion herself, running towards the medbay station. Occasionally she had to put out a hand to steady herself as Itani guided the ship through traffic and out to wherever Bane had mentioned the pick-up point to be. Another minor detail she had missed while zoned out, wishing she had gotten further medical training. But she finally made it amidst the bucking of the Star, going over her inventory once again before pulling things out of the various storage bins and the two medbags. Ambria unrolled bandages, setting them off to the side. She set down bottles of aesthetics and morphine. Stacked up kolto patches. With only one bed in the bay, she laid out a few blankets on the ship's floor nearby. Luckily by the time she was prehooking some IVs, Itani had set the ship down, and the lack of movement made it a lot easier. With everything as ready as it could be, Ambria ran through the ship again, this time to the landing ramp. Arriving there, she yelled up front to the cockpit. "Lower the ramp!" Just in case one of the team members wasn't able to walk, she didn't want to burden another with carrying a load for more than necessary. And she could direct them to beds, doing a little triage right at the door. After the ramp lowered, Ambria finally allowed herself to take a deep breath and calm herself. Her utter concentration would be needed in mere seconds. Counting to ten with her eyes closed, she imagined the medbay in her head, imagined all the different ways she knew of treating wounds. Feeling much better, she opened her eyes and scanned the surrounding buildings, looking for signs of Bane and the others.
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
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Jun 2, 2009 18:30:31 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 2, 2009 18:30:31 GMT -5
Italia caught Mal's quiet words and grunted slightly.
Put me down Mal, I can walk on my own.
Soon as Mal would put her down, she blinked at the lightheaded feeling that made her head spin before moving along again. She followed silently, careful to keep her ripped and bleeding finger up, her good hand putting as much pressure on it as she could without injuring it further and ignoring her shrapnel riddled side and various other injuries. Mal had it worse off than she did, and Bane was still bleeding from the head despite the makeshift tourniquet he'd tied around it. If they could go on and show little pain, so could she. The three clambered up the ladder, handing Ark's brain case up along the way until they reached the top of the manhole and headed off toward Bane's new designated pick up zone.
It took a while to get there and it was far from an easy trek with them all injured and carrying Ark's tank, but they made it eventually. The hike had allowed Lia time to clear her mind and start to try and formulate a way to jury rig some sort of stimuli for Ark so that he didn't go insane during the time they were traveling. It wasn't exactly a short flight to Concord Dawn. Just after they had arrived at the lot, the Star touched down, the ramp lowering for them and the tired and injured team limped aboard. Lia pounded the ramp button with the palm of her good hand and was already on her way to the front as it closed.
Get us the hell off this rock Ninja boy, and do it fast as she's able!
Passing the Basilisk droid she sighed heavily and hoped it was worth it.
Trin! I need your hands!
Finally she reached the cockpit (after what seemed like an eternity), and leaned heavily against the seat Itani occupied, bruises already swiftly forming along her exposed skin, and still covered head to toe in blood, guts (thanks to Ark's ripping a man in half over her head), and gore.
Bro, we need ta get the hell outta here ASAP 'cause I doubt the boys in blue will be far behind us and they had called in helis. Mal took one out, but the other's still around. Trin I need your help to jury rig some kind of stimuli for Ark, his tank is the only thing that survived and he's likely to go insane if we leave him in the dark for too long...and I can't do it with my hand.
She held up both hands, one holding the other to stem the bleeding, before she turned and headed into the back once more.
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Meira
She don't mess around
2,830 posts
583 likes
Half awake in our fake empire
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last online May 11, 2023 23:01:34 GMT -5
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Jun 3, 2009 8:57:28 GMT -5
Post by Meira on Jun 3, 2009 8:57:28 GMT -5
The numbness in Trin's arm was starting to fade. How did she know? She could just barely feel Itani's hand. She wasn't exactly sure how she should respond to that, so Trin took a sudden and intense interest in the panels in front of her, her cheeks and the tops of her ears flushing a slight pink. But all of that went away really quick when they got their orders from Bane. Luckily, Itani would be able to fly them to the rendezvous, so all she had to do was sit there and make sure nothing started flashing red lights. Flashing red lights were bad. She did, however, manage another slight blush when she caught Itani's wink, but her reaction lasted just as long as the wink itself, before she turned to study something that would bring her face out of his line of sight. Was she so silly that she couldn't take a wink without blushing? She shook her head.
Now she was sure the feeling was coming back to her arm. How was she sure? She could feel a dull pain where her stitches were. She was glad for the feeling, it meant she could use her arm again. Maybe not do any heavy lifting, but she could use it. As Itani brought the Star down, Trin started flexing her fingers, then twisting her wrists, moving her arm at the elbow, and then finally at the shoulder. The pain stayed at the constant background noise of dull that she knew wouldn't be a problem. She smiled to herself, glad to have her limb back. Now she could at least be of some use.
As if on cue, Trin could hear that their comrades had made it on board. She stood quickly from her chair, ready to help. The first person she saw was Italia, beaten and bloody, and holding on tight to her hand. She came into the cockpit, telling Itani to get going, and asked for Trin's help. It almost felt like it was her birthday, in some strange twisted way. After sitting useless for so long on the ship, Trin would have been overjoyed to fix a datapad. But none of the glee of feeling useful made it to her face. No, that place of expression was reserved for worry and just a touch of fear. No other reaction would be suitable, not by the sight of Italia, not by the news about Ark. Trin was almost afraid to wonder how Mal and Bane looked.
But she nodded, moving to follow behind Italia as she led the way to Ark's brain case. Once she saw where it was, she rushed past to grab her back from further back in the cargo area. She didn't know if she'd have anything useful, but there were a few tools in the bag that they might use. When she was back at Italia's side, she dropped the bag on the floor and knelt down to study Ark's brain case. She had never really studied the ancient Mando's... body, or whatever, too closely. She figured staring would be rude. Now she wished she were a little more familiar.
What do you need me to do?
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last online Jan 14, 2020 17:37:19 GMT -5
Master
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Jun 3, 2009 11:37:42 GMT -5
Post by Jace on Jun 3, 2009 11:37:42 GMT -5
The Ghost Star, as soon as he set foot in the ship, the sudden reality of what had happened crashed into him. The sheer ferocity and chaos of it all, the havoc that had been created. He still held on to Ark's brain case, not even sure if the being that was his friend still lived. He knew little when it came to cyborgs and their composition. He watched as Italia quickly moved forward, assuming that she went straight to the cockpit. Minutes later she returned with Trin in tow, and they seemed to need the brain case. Leaving the brain case in their care, he quickly fell back into order.
"Ambria, take care of Mal" He ordered suddenly.
Mal was in a bad state, the man looked like he was on the verge of death. God knows how many shots he had taken, while getting Italia away. Though his left thigh hurt a great deal, he refused to limp his way to the cockpit. So with all the strength he could muster, he made his way towards the cockpit. He arrived moments later, finding Itani well on his way to getting them the hell out of dodge city.
"Let me know if we encounter any trouble" He stated firmly but there was an undertone of weariness which could not be missed.
Bane made his way to the back of the ship where the rest of his squad was currently located. Every step he took hurt, even breathing hurt. He figured he had at least two broken ribs, a large wound from shrapnel in his thigh, and numerous cuts all over his body. He had managed to quickly patch a few up, but he had lost a good deal of blood during the battle. He had been in worse states throughout the course of his life, so he wasn't really worried.
There was no doubt about it, he had the deadliest squad of soldiers in the galaxy. Who else could fight off a legion of officers in the heart of the Republic with only four people? Who else could steal a flagship in the midst of hundred of enemy ship? There was no one else of course. Bane's pride outweighed his pain for the moment as he gave thought to all his team had done. The glory that they would bring Mandalore with an army of Basilisk droids was a heartening thought in its own right. The might of the Mandalorians was legendary, they had only just reiterated that point today.
Bane finally made his way to where the rest were, and leaned heavily against a support. He hadn't had any extra medical care up until now, but he was strongly considering it. There was something else that needed his attention first.
"What is Ark's status?" He asked Italia and Velos.
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Dire Wolf
So who's ready to help me sock ol Adolf on the jaw?!
2,894 posts
49 likes
Have dakka will travel
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last online May 6, 2020 18:55:51 GMT -5
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Jun 3, 2009 13:59:12 GMT -5
Post by Dire Wolf on Jun 3, 2009 13:59:12 GMT -5
Mal nodded as he put Lia down. The woman honestly couldn't have asked him fast enough, but he tried not to make it look like this was the case. It was getting harder, to carry his own weight, he wasn't sure how much further he could go... how many steps he had in him before the behemoth went down. They wouldn't be able to drag him if he went down right there, he would be left to rot in that sewer until the police officers arrived to desecrate his decomposing flesh.
But the pain.
Every step. Every shift in weight. Every thought rewarded the herculean man with agony, the likes of which he had honestly never experienced before this point. All of his training, to ignore pain, never could have prepared him for anguish such as what he was going though. It was hard for him to draw in a breath and painful for him to exhale, it felt like a fire was searing his flesh from the inside out, and anything that had to do with his wounded leg sent a sharp lance of pain into his brain. Mal was about to simply fall when he noticed that the end of the sewer was in sight. “Thank the Force... they might make it out of this yet,” he thought, the man had already resigned his fate.
Mal exited the sewer almost looking like a corporeal specter of what he once was. All of the color in his face had drained, those crystalline colored eyes of his seemed to be a dull oceanic blue, and a cough could be heard emitting from his lungs every so often. Eventually he heard, or thought that he heard, the scream of the Ghost Star's engines as they tore through the atmosphere of Coruscant to pick up the Spec Ops team. It wasn't long before the cargo bay doors were open and waiting for the team to simply walk inside.
The man barely had his first boot planted on the ramp before the cityscape of Coruscant and the dull steel of the Star melted away. A warm breeze lapped at the few exposed portions of the behemoth's skin as he slowly limped towards a rather ordinary looking house. His house. Mal could recognize it anywhere... he was back on Mandalore. The man stumbled towards the house, letting his open palm drift along the sea of wheat as the breeze caused it to wave back and forth.
Back in reality he was doing the same thing, holding out his hand to about waist level as he limped up the ramp of the Ghost Star. Maybe someone noticed, maybe not, but it was kind of hard to not notice something that Malak did.
A small smile pursed his lips as he saw two figures in the distance, one being his late wife... and the other, a child. He looked to be around the age of ten or so, but it was hard for Mal to tell at this distance. The female figure was simply standing out on the porch looking at her man, while the child was running full bore at him. Malak would have done the same, run, but he could not. He sunk to this knees to allow the child to actually hug him as the little creature drew near.
He did this in the real world as well, only he dropped to his knees rather forcefully... making a rather loud BANG as his knees slammed into the metallic deck of the Star. The look on his face was a rare one, peace, as he simply hung there for a few moments. The sprawling field of wheat melted back into the dull grey of the Ghost Star, he couldn't help but give a disappointed smile as the rest of his upper body crashed into the deck.
Malak-kra'nelen was dead. Temporarily, but he was still dead none-theless.
((***NOTE: I DON'T WANT HIM DEAD. FIX HIM PLEASE K THX***))
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Mara
nothing worth anything ever goes down easy
9,275 posts
55 likes
the one and only
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last online May 2, 2022 22:30:17 GMT -5
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Jun 3, 2009 17:03:36 GMT -5
Post by Mara on Jun 3, 2009 17:03:36 GMT -5
(( No worries... everyone shall survive... FYI, though, my medical knowledge is mostly from 15 seasons of watching 'ER' and just other stuff I've gained through osmosis... so.. almost nil )) Ambria's thoughts of a structured and easy triage of the three wounded completely left through the airlock all hell broke loose in front of her. At least it seemed to, as multiple things happened at once, clamoring for her attention. She had seen Italia run up the ramp first, but before she could even begin to assess the other woman's wounds, she had left for another part of the ship. She had to bite back some words that Italia should remain where she could accurately triage, but her attention was immediately occupied by the appearance of Bane and Mal... the latter of the duo looked in very poor shape indeed. But looks could be deceiving, so she moved towards the both of them, her eyes scanning them quickly, trying to gauge which bleeding wounds were superficial and which were more serious. Though, he seemed badly wounded, Ambria decided that the colonel would be okay for a few moments while she tended to Mal. The big humanoid was looking very pale, and the dark-skinned woman didn't like the look of his wounds at all. She was already going forward to the Apithirian man when Bane barked his orders. Again, she bit back a retort, knowing that it wouldn't do any good right now. Plus, by the time she glanced back, the colonel was already turned away from her, obviously struggling to make his way to the cockpit, not making a good show of hiding his obvious pain. She sighed and turned her focus back to Mal. Ambria would deal with Bane soon enough, whether he liked it or not. But the hard truth was, though everyone was wounded, Italia and Bane seemed to be still functioning, mostly, while Mal was... well, she wasn't sure where or what he was doing. Obviously he was in front of her, but he had a look in his eyes that stated his mind was somewhere else. Briefly, Ambria hoped that the big man was thinking something good, because his wounds looked very serious, and she might not have time to sedate him before exploring them. And he was moving, holding out a hand, still with that blank look across his face. He wavered, and Ambria jumped out to him, but got there too late as the Apithirian crashed to his knees on the floorboards of the ship. Quickly, she kneeled by him and pressed two fingers at his neck, trying to support him upright with the other hand. A pulse, but faint. She stood up and glanced around; she would need help to carry him to the medbay. Ambria was strong, having grown up with Mandalorians, but even her strength had its limits. However, everyone else seemed to be elsewhere in the ship. A small part of her mind hoped for a moment that no one else had passed out. This movement to look for the others took her a step away from her patient, who fell prone on the deck with another thump. Ambria spun at the noise; she would have to deal with the unconscious hulk of a man herself. Taking a deep breath, she turned Mal so that he was on his back, facing upwards. Earlier she had noticed the deep wound in his abdomen, exposing his guts. But as she turned him, she noticed all the shrapnel sticking out of his back. And many blaster wounds. She held him there, halfway between, his side on the decking. Ambria bit her lip, trying to think quickly. If the metal in his back stayed much longer, it could get infected. However, if she ignored the belly much longer, it could be even worse for the humanoid. She checked his pulse again and made her decision. Slowly she set him back on the decking on his back and sprinted back to the medbay. Frantically she grabbed items and shoved them in one of the now-empty medical bags: kolto patches, hypos, bandages and lots of them, blood bags, I.V. bags, surgical tools ... anything that could help. Ambria notched the bag's handle on her shoulder and grabbed a couple of the blankets off the floor; obviously the others wouldn't be laying there now, but she wished they were. Too late to think about that now. Hopefully Itani would have them offplanet and into hyperspace soon, and he could begin on Bane, then Italia as she fixed up Mal as good as she could. She also had no think to think of the difference in physiology the man might have, differing from humans and other species she had patched up in the past few years on the Mandalorian battlefields. There was no time for her to find a datapad and do a search on Apithirian biology, to figure out if Mal's insides were at least similar to a human's. No, she just had to hope for the best. Hope that by looking inside she could figure out it was supposed to look and put it back that way, as closely as possible. With her things in hand, she ran back to where Mal lay, face up near the closed landing ramp. First she folded up one of the blankets and carefully laid it underneath his back. At least he would have something soft underneath. She wanted to use the blankets to prop him on his side, but that would have given her a really bad angle to work on his belly with, so Ambria had to made due. With the other blanket, she ripped it in half, using a part to drape over his chest, the other across his legs to keep him warm. Even though he was out of it and barely alive, she still filled up a hypo with some painkiller, just in case he woke up in the middle of it all, her hands deep within his belly, and injected it in his thigh. Using the moment it took to fully work, Ambria quickly splashed her hands with some alcohol from the medbag and worked on setting up some of the blood bags to feed back into Mal's system. Quickly but carefully she found a vein and attached the line, hooking the bags on a nearby bulkhead. There weren't many blood bags in the medbag and she knew the others would need blood as well, so she had to work efficiently on stopping Mal's bleeding as much as possible. She attached another I.V. to the humanoid, this one for necessary fluids, before reaching out for her bag once more. Time to focus on the belly wound. For another time in her life, Ambria was glad for her closely cropped hair that wouldn't get in her way as she knelt over Mal. She would have preferred him on a table while she stood, but the battlefield rarely offered such luxuries. Grabbing a bunch of gauze with her left hand, she picked up a needle and thread with the other and bent over the huge gap in the Apithiri's abdomen. The smell didn't bother her; she had been in this position far too many times before to have something like that disturb her. And she went to work, staunching bleeding to where she could see better where the tears were, stitching tissues and muscles closed. Slowly but surely the man's intestines were disappearing from view. So far it seemed that the humanoid's insides were almost a exact match to a human's, which was good news for the self-proclaimed medic. Also good news was that Mal didn't appear to be having any side effects to the human blood she had running into his arm, trying to counter all the pints he had obviously lost while fighting less than an hour earlier. Ambria was thankful for small miracles. The stitching wasn't perfect, but it would keep further damage from happening when she later turned him over to disinfect and clean out his back. The pain in her knees and leg were the furthest from Ambria's mind as she worked. She dabbed a piece of gauze around the sealed-up wound, coming back with some blood and puss, but much less than earlier when she had first started. It would hold for now. To staunch further bleeding in the belly, Ambria quickly poured some more alcohol on the wound to disinfect it again before applying a couple of layers of gauze and taping them in place on top of the wound. Then she grabbed some bandages, carefully wrapping them around Mal's belly, having to take the time to leverage him up with a leg so she could get the bandage underneath him. A few more circuits with the bandage and she tied it up. So far nothing was leaking through, and she was satisfied with that. Slowly she rolled him over on the belly, careful to prop the wound around the folded blanket, hoping to cause the least amount of pain possible. If the man was even conscious enough to feel the pain. Ambria knew the morphine would be wearing off soon, and she had to hurry. She disinfected a piece of gauze and went to work on his back, pulling out pieces of metal from the various wounds, dabbing each with the gauze afterwards. A few were deep and she made a note to stitch them up later when she was all done. Ambria applied kolto patches to most of the blaster wounds in his back, letting the healing substance do their magic. Then she got the needle and thread back out to stitch some of the deeper wounds closed, finishing with bandaging them up. When she was done, there were more white bandages on his back than skin showing, a testament to how many wounds there were. The young woman ran a hand along with an eye all over the back of Mal, checking for any pieces of shrapnel she may have missed, pulling one last one from his arm and wrapping it up in a clean bandage. She moved from her knees to the balls of her feet, crouching there for a moment before lifting him up again and readjusting the blanket. With his back and other wounds bandaged, the blanket shouldn't do much harm. Plus the belly wound would need air, and constant bandage changing to keep it fresh and clean. Slowly she laid him down on the blanket, its soft comfort a small help to the Aprithiri's wounds. Checking the belly wound once more before standing, Ambria was satisfied that she saw no obvious seeping. But she would have to look again in a half hour to make sure no infection was setting in. Mal was far from being okay, but he was a lot better than he had been when he stumbled into the Star. A good long stay in a kolto tank would continue the healing process that she had tried to start. Feeling the rumble of the ship getting ready to enter hyperspace, Ambria braced his body, hoping to keep the stitches in place. But luckily the transition was smooth, the Star slipping into hyperspace a few moments later. She looked at Mal then, laying peacefully on the deck of the ship, and she hoped that he was having good dreams. All of them deserved good dreams after this. Ambria brushed a stray hair from his forehead before standing up, bracing her arms on her knees, groaning slightly. Skip the good dreams... a nice hot bath would do for her, at least. But not yet. She had other patients to attend to. And with the shi in hyperspace, she would have an ally in Itani to help with the rest of the wounded. She hadn't liked the limp Bane was so desperately trying to hide and wanted to see how serious the damage was. Itani could start on his sister. With a deep breath and a final check on Mal, Ambria set her jaw and went looking for the others, her gait stiff at first from kneeling so long on the hard decking but quickly gaining her graceful strides. She found him in the back of the ship along with Trin and Italia, another one of her future patients, staring at what remained of Ark the cyborg. She hadn't realized the extent of damage the machine man had taken. But there was no way for her to fix him. Ambria only had a way with organics. And right now, she walked over to one of them. Her green eyes took on a darker shade as she stared her colonel right in the face. "Colonel, you're coming to the medbay. And I'm not taking no for an answer. Sir."
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last online Jun 4, 2023 4:58:38 GMT -5
Master
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Jun 6, 2009 7:24:19 GMT -5
Post by Talau the Ever-Lurking on Jun 6, 2009 7:24:19 GMT -5
The sprightly mando had been in the cockpit when Mal had fallen, then fallen unconscious. She'd barely glanced over her shoulder at the sound and her muddled mind attributed it to the cargo ramp being raised behind them. It didn't, unfortunately, occur to her to think that it might have been Mal. By the time she'd reached Ark's tank with Trin, the man was already being seen to by Ambaria, so she though little of his position on the cold deck of the ship.
I need something that can make an electrical pulse...and I need this turned around....
She grunted slightly as she grudgingly let go of her injured finger, keeping it out of the way as it continued to bleed now that she'd let go of it, the bone rather gruesomely visible through the severed skin. Italia grabbed hold of one side of the case and pulled/shoved to turn it around. Plugs, plugs everywhere and not a one was labeled clearly. Upon closer inspection, she found a small symbol that looked to be a holo projector. Well, she'd just have to hope it was his visual input...now what for pulses?
The auburn grabbed hold of her finger/hand again to stem the bleeding once more as she glanced about, thinking. If they could just rig something up for morse code...perhaps just a regular electrical wire from the ship would work? An ear piece also! Unplug it from the source and the male end of it should be small enough, just cut off the ear piece itself, leave the wires exposed, plug it in and pray it worked....though honestly, just about ANY small wire to fit the plug would work...maybe she or Trin had one for slicing that was small enough? No, she didn't, but maybe Trin did? Either way, she lay out the plan for the woman just as Bane walked....limped...up to them.
I don't know. We're trying to jerry-rig some kind of stimuli for him...a type of morse code to let him know we're okay, but he won't be able to reply in any way so we really can't tell until we get back to Concord Dawn.
Obvious concern laced Italia's voice as she replied, gazing up at him through emerald eyes that held the same emotion, before returning her attention to the task at hand. The, rather more pale than normal, woman knelt there as Ambaria came up and ushered Bane off to the medbay to be treated. Even as Trin worked, Lia refused to move more than a few inches in any direction. It wasn't so much because she felt that Trin needed to be instructed, or watched over to avoid mistakes, as it was the fact that...this was her grandfather, and though she didn't know him very well, she felt like she did, an odd sense of bondage to him that one only felt with family. She wouldn't leave him until she was able to tell him she was okay....that they were all okay.
She still didn't know about Mal.
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Latus
May the Quartz be with you.
850 posts
0 likes
Ain't got time for this. (?°?°??? ???
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last online Jun 27, 2014 19:37:36 GMT -5
Guardian
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Jun 7, 2009 21:32:28 GMT -5
Post by Latus on Jun 7, 2009 21:32:28 GMT -5
Slowly they filed in, he could hear them moving about the halls and shuffling past. There was, however, no hint of the thundering footfalls of Ark's cybernetic body. Staring up at the monitors he saw a readout of the immediate area. There were no electronic signals that hinted at his presence anywhere. Itani felt his stomach clench from the thoughts that began to invade his mind. His attention was shifted back to the immediate when Italia yelled for him to take off. Ninja boy, that's a new one.
Italia strode up behind him as he made the preparations, speaking of Ark and what had happened. Still engrossed in his work he didn't dare look up but nodded his confirmation to his sister. As she turned to leave Trin stood and followed. With her arm still damaged he didn't know how much help she could be. Itani was still unable to accept Ark had barely survived so he stubbornly continued to prepare for takeoff. As he listened to the sounds of his comrades however, he knew that Ambria would need all the help she could get. Adjusting himself in the pilot's chair he put a hand on the throttle and the control stick, carefully easing the latter backwards. As the Star gently lifted from the permacrete he activated the com system.
My friends, I believe we have worn out our welcome. Please turn on all electronic devices and lean back in your chairs, we are out of here.
Easing the throttle foreword Itani could feel the engines burst to life building to a low roar as the Ghost Star gained altitude. The moment the small ship had cleared the towering skyscrapers Itani pushed the throttle to full thrust and aimed the nose toward the open sky. The Star was slow in attaining escape velocity but managed to trundle up and out of Coruscant into open space. The moment he broke atmosphere she ship was pelted with, what appeared to be, waste. Smiling to himself Itani relished the humor of the distraction for a moment before activating the navi-computer, preparing the jump back home.
Moments later Itani pulled himself out of his seat, the familiar swirling pattern of hyperspace rushed foreword to greet the battle-worn Mandalorians. His heart racing he trotted back to the cargo bay, dreading what he was to see. As he entered the room his eyes crossed to Arcs brain tank, Trin was kneeling next to it, tinkering away. However, Itani's jaw dropped open as his eyes met Lia's. She was in bad shape. It was hard to know where the gore from battle started and hers began. Swearing under his breath he crossed to her.
Lia, we need to see to your wounds, cmon. He'll be fine; Trin'll see to that.
Taking her by the arm Itani led her to one of the available beds in the med bay and helped her onto it. As he helped her out of her battle-torn clothes he assessed the damages. Damage to her right hand, gunshot wounds, blaster marks, shrapnel, cuts, gashes, bruising. He didn't even flinch as he removed her coverings, exposing the skin. His duty as a medic came before his shame at seeing someone's chest, even his own sister. Finding what he needed from his kit and what was laid about the bay he set to work, numbing the regions of the body he needed to see to first. It would most likely not feel very good but he had to act fast.
Smiling up at his sister he started to clean the wounds that seemed the most serious; the shrapnel, the deepest cuts, the slugthrower holes. With great precision he staunched the blood and began to extract the shards of shrapnel, piece by piece. It was hard for him to keep his concentration as fears and uncertainties threatened to seep into his mind but he kept his resolve kept him strong. There was still so much to do, he couldn't be weak, he couldn't fear death.
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