Healing Knows No Allegiance [Tali] [CLOSED]

[Rabbit]

It was a rare whim, but Sheresh decided to forgo the base training arena for her daily run. The last few times she'd decided to work out there, her pheromones had gotten the better of her and exercising had turned into more of a distraction than anything else. She huffed slightly under her breath at the memory, as she took a few moments to stretch, just outside the north base gate.

It was a crisp early morning - Sheresh didn't usually run so early in the day, but she'd rolled out of her rack, taken one look out the window, and hadn't been able to resist. It was bright, cloudless, and perfect - with just a hint of nip from the cooler night winds.

Dew sparkled on the grass at her feet and cold, sweet air filled her lungs as she pushed off with her toes and headed lightly - at an easy jog - toward the tree line to her left. She'd heard about some small hunting trails in the forest outside of base and had also heard that they could make a challenging running path, if one was up for it.

Sheresh had left her armor and her medkit behind. She wanted to enjoy the feel of the morning air, so she was dressed in just simple tunic and pants. She'd slipped on a pair of thin shoes as well - as thin as she could manage, short of being barefoot. She could feel the ground underneath her; the bumps of tree roots; the crunch of leaves; small rocks embedded in the earth.

Sheresh felt alive - this was one way she embraced her virtue, her "lust for life." She breathed deeply as a fine sweat began to break out along her forehead.

As she ran deeper into the woods, something in the air began to change. A hint of smoke, a whiff of hot metal. Sheresh breathed deeply through her mouth and frowned; something like ash brushed against her tongue.

She ran further, but her pace began to slow, until she was practically trotting. Something was wrong. She could feel it.

Her early-morning run ended abruptly, as she decided to step off the path and fight her way through the brush, toward the smell of burning wood. Sheresh's frown grew deeper and she didn't really register the branches that cut against her arms or pulled at her legs. She'd have scratches later, to show for her curiosity - but something compelled the half-Zeltron to keep delving deeper into the thick.

Someone was in trouble. She could feel it.

[Dire Wolf]

((didn't mean to make it this long. <.<))

Tali's crimson eyes drifted open, the world was blurry... almost like she was watching it through an unfocused camera lens. As her view sharpened, she saw the shattered viewport and the burnt foliage beyond it. "Crash. Get out. Now," her mind warned her once it had come to its senses. A light groan rumbled at her throat in rebellion as her achy arms moved up to unclip her safety harness. Gravity took hold of her body when the seat belt was free, and she fell to the top of the ship with an inglorious thud.

Pain erupted from her yet again, but she hardly made a sound. Instead she laid there for a few moments, nursing the arm that softened her torso's fall, before slowly standing up as tall as she could. A quick glance down to her strong arm revealed that it was swollen and bruised, not to mention the hideous lump about halfway down her forearm.

The muscles of her jaw clenched as her free arm moved to gingerly grasp her bicep. Small measures of self comfort could be allowed when no one was looking, even if they didn't do much to ease the pain. "Get out, Get out, Get out!" her mind's alarm sounded as she stumbled towards the hatch, which was locked. Tali cursed under her breath when she realized that the crash had knocked out the power, and so she turned towards the shattered view port.

- - - - -
Two hours ago
- - - - -

"That's not supposed to be there..."

The Jedi knight said as she observed a gargantuan planet with a look of terror about her face. A hyperspace tunnel had enclosed her vessel nary a few seconds before, and it still should have been there. "Heinous fracking thing..." she spat as she looked down at the navi-computer, who's alarms were scolding her for bad co-ordinates. Without another moments thought, or another bout of cursing, the should-be stoic knight grabbed a hold of the reins to salvage what she could of the disaster.

Despite Tahlia's best efforts the vessel still plummeted towards the deck, its nose barely moving to her commands. Sweat began to bead above her brow, and the shrill whine of too many alarms assaulted her ears within the cockpit. Brilliant oranges and yellows lit up the otherwise dark control center of the ship, but Tali didn't notice. A mixture of terror, determination, and stupidity had locked her mind away and forced it to work on instinct in lieu of training.

The Jedi had been on her way back to the temple from the Toola system. Being a consular, most of her missions were of a diplomatic nature, and so she'd been the first one sent when a Whiphid tribal dispute threatened to destabilize a significant part of the planet. She did manage to sooth their primal tempers, but obviously she couldn't punch the right numbers into her navi-comp.

- - - - - - - - -
Present
- - - - - - - - -

"Maybe I'll get lucky and this rock will have something that won't try and chow me." Her off hand was still holding that broken arm as stumbled against the tree, taking care to keep her weight well away from her wounded arm. Free locks of her fiery hair managed to free themselves during the crash, and a few more did the same when she turned her head back to the site. Heat still radiated from the hull of her vessel, and steam lazily curled from its grey-black plating. All of the leaves from the trees and the grass surrounding the wreckage was singed, either turned to ash or turned to a sick black from the immense amounts of heat.

The ship would make a suitable shelter once it cooled. Given the assumption that the rock Tali found herself on was devoid of sentient life. Just then, something entered the very fringes of her awareness: something intelligent. It soon slowed, and concern began to flicker through its mind shortly before it headed in Tali's general direction. Pushing herself off of the tree, Tahlia began to stumble towards the presence in a particularly pathetic fashion.

Once she was within earshot, the space mutt leaned her back against a tree and allowed her weight to slide down its trunk. "Over here," her eyes were closed as she spoke... finding the sitting position immensely comfortable. Hopefully the presence was friendly.

If not, oh well... Tali could always throw it into a tree until it stopped being funny.

[Rabbit]

[OOC: Hey, no worries! I think it's a great post! ;D This one is kinda' crappy, but I've been distracted while trying to post. Note to self: don't try to write while trying to cook. LOL]


Smoke. Metal. Pain. Worry.

Sheresh broke into a run again, as she filtered those sensations through her empathy and her physical senses. She could only hope that whatever was stumbling around out there, wasn't hostile. She could subdue a full-grown Mandalorian male in complete beskar'gam...but that didn't mean she enjoyed it.

That made her think of Zordon, as she jogged along - jumping lithely over the odd branch and fallen tree trunk - and Sheresh huffed a bit more than was necessary as she took a deep breath to fill her lungs.

I better not find something like a kriffin' Boltronian, she thought wryly.

The Mando medic imagined, briefly, a highly probable scenario of trying to wrestle Zordon down for his yearly shots. Nope...she definitely wasn't looking forward to that. She'd pass on a Boltronian.

Fortunately, the only form that greeted her as she broke out of the tree-line, was a weary female slumped against a tree, holding her arm against her chest. Unfortunately, Sheresh was suddenly faced with a problem of another matter all together...

The half-Zeltron medic skidded to a stop and tried to catch her breath as her eyes flickered from the other female, to the hunk of broken ship behind her. The air was thick with smoke and burning wires; Sheresh covered her mouth for a minute and coughed.

Her eyes watered and she had to wonder almost immediately what had happened. And -

Why isn't this place crawling with soldiers?

She hadn't heard the anti-air guns firing - there was no way she'd miss that, early morning or not. The base hadn't been called to high alert, either, so that meant that - somehow - this crashed ship had come in under the radar (so to speak).

But, just because she was the first one on the scene, didn't mean that there wouldn't be others. In armor. With guns.

Soon.

She eyed the wounded female in front of her and the singed, slightly burnt robes wrapped around her figure were unmistakable.

A Jetii...?

A Jetii had crashed. On Concord Dawn. Not even five miles from the Special Operations base.

A Jetii....

Osik...!

Several thoughts went through Sheresh's mind, in addition to a continual chant of "osik, osik, osik!" One, was that she shouldn't have picked this morning to go running off-base. Two, she shouldn't have left her beskar'gam back on base. Three, she shouldn't have gone running without her kit.

The second thought reminded her of a quote her Hel'buir had been wont to repeat, quiet often.

"Verd ori'shya beskar'gam." - "A warrior is more than her armor."

Sheresh always wondered what that meant, exactly. But her last thought reminded her of what she was, within the Mando'ad. She was a medic. And she was, beyond everything else, her father's daughter.

She put her hands out in a pacifying manner and spoke quietly.

"I'm a medic," she spoke quietly in her Alderaanian-accented Basic and took a cautious step forward - she'd heard stories about Jetii and their lightsabers.

Would this one attack her? She wouldn't necessarily know Sheresh was Mandalorian...unless, of course, she knew where she was, in which case, it was a safe bet that everyone she met was an enemy.

"Let me take a look at your arm..."

--------------------
[OOC: I couldn't tell if Tali was in her robes or not... So, I just sort of winged it. I figured the lightsaber is a dead giveaway, but so would the usual garb of a Jedi. *shrugs* I can change, if you want, but I think it made an interesting challenge to Sheresh's moral compass, to choose to help, even knowing who she was helping.]

--------------------

beskar'gam - armor
Jetii - Jedi
Osik - crap (of the expletive variety)

[Dire Wolf]

Tali could sense more and more of the lifeform as the distance between them closed. Worry was the main thing that coursed through its mind, until it actually came close enough to see the tattered remains of her robes. Yes, for once, she was forced to wear them seeing as the mission didn't call for any sort of combat and being easily identified as a Jedi actually helped for once. At least there... not here. Apprehension and even a small moral battle could be sensed as well... but Tali didn't bother to focus any more than that.

She, as the lifeform turned out to be, turned out to be a medic. Perfect. Maybe the doc could have Tali up and jumping from building to building in no time. Her eyes were still closed as she spoke, and one arm still gingerly held the other as she asked to look at it. "There's an IFAC underneath my seat." Tali motioned back to her ship, which was flipped upside down, "Shouldn't be too har- you're a medic?"

Myriads of mental alarms began their shrill whine, taking on the aspects of the real world alarms she heard not a few minutes before hitting the deck at a few hundred kilometers per hour. Tali couldn't think of any real warzones between Toola and Coruscant, and while something with the coordinates screwed the pooch, all it took was one faulty digit for her to be where she was. Part of her wanted to say that the woman standing before her was part of the republic, or a planetary militia force... but the accent told her otherwise.

Those crimson eyes slowly opened to reveal a beautiful woman, short, with pink tinted skin that spoke of something a little bit more than human in her genes. "Where am I?" Suddenly, she remembered that there was a good sized patch of mandalorian space on her route. Either Concord Dawn or the recently conquered Shogun... and this place didn't look like a barren wasteland.

Her first instinct was to start getting righteous with her telekinesis and ask questions later, even if any questions would be spoken to a mass of bloody summer sausage. Tahlia held it back, though: this woman hadn't shown her any aggression, unlike all of her mandalorian brethren, and actually decided to help her. Slaying the daylights out of her wouldn't be right.

"Here... I think its broken," Tahlia said as she cautiously moved her wounded arm towards the woman. Other parts (well her whole body) were hurt as well, but her arm felt the worst. "Why are you doing this? After what my people did to yours?"

[Rabbit]

"There's an IFAC underneath my seat. Shouldn't be too har- you're a medic?"

Sheresh heard the soft voice hitch, heard the subtle change in tone. The Mandalorian medic suddenly couldn't look the jetii in the eye and her gaze slipped away from the woman's face. For a moment, Sheresh struggled with herself - was she doing the right thing?

A memory flashed into her mind, of a drunk, abused cantina girl, taking her justice into her hand in a desperate bid. Of cutting off a Rodian's grasping, greedy fingers. Of a fight that would have killed her, if it hadn't been for the imposing, faceless Mandalorian that had stepped into even the odds.

From the very beginning, in her very first interaction with the Mando'ad, Sheresh had witnessed an amazing capacity to reach outside of one's self and rescue, save, help. For a moment, Sheresh bit her lip and looked anywhere except at the unnerving red eyes that suddenly sought her soul.

In a moment of perhaps ill-advised bravery, Sheresh stepped closer to the woman. Her hands remained outstretched, palms up - placating, soothing.

"Where am I?"

The medic tried not to wince. The question was inevitable and she hesitated in answering it. What would change, once the jetii realized where she was? Would Sheresh meet an inglorious end, un-armored and alone, at the end of a jetii blade?

The lines suddenly blurred for Sheresh - would dying while trying to save a wounded sentient be considered honorable, to the Mando'ad? Would Hel'buir hold her head high, knowing that her daughter tried to live by her medic's morals, by her oath as a healer? Or would she be remembered in derision, in scorn, as weak and foolish?

As an aruetii?

For a moment, Sheresh wavered. She knew several different ways to kill a person, especially when they were between her hands in hopes of healing. She could kill this jetii...or, at least try. She was a spy, after all...

And that's when it clicked for Sheresh. Something wasn't right. She looked up, startled, at the Jedi's face and a frown pulled down the corners of her mouth.

"What do you mean, where are you? You don't know?"

The truth slowly dawned in Sheresh's mind and her eyes drifted toward the smoking ship. The jetii didn't know where she was...which meant, she wasn't a spy. But, rather, the unfortunate victim of the galaxy's whims.

Probably a hyperspace malfunction. Or worse...she mixed up her coordinates.

Now, that was a sobering thought.

She's lucky she didn't hurtle straight into a black hole.

The woman didn't answer Sheresh's question, but she did hold out her arm toward the medic, in a silent demonstration of desperate trust. Sheresh couldn't turn away. Not now. Even if it was a trap, even if the jetii was bluffing. She couldn't turn away from a broken body.

"Here... I think its broken."

Sheresh had been about to head toward the ship and fish for the IFAC, but if the arm was broken, it'd require a sling. The cuts, bruises and pain could be dealt with, secondary. Sheresh reached out with tenative fingers and took the offered arm in her hands.

She was up-close and personal with the jetii now. She could feel the woman's breath - soft and shallow, probably from pain. She smelled like smoke and stress, with something softer, sweeter, underneath that. Sheresh stayed silent and bowed her head over the woman's arm, refusing to look up at her, refusing to think beyond what she was doing in the immediate here and now.

So, of course, the woman had to ask -

"Why are you doing this? After what my people did to yours?"

Slowly, Sheresh glanced up and met those strange red eyes. The woman - like her - wasn't completely human, but the medic couldn't even begin to hazard a guess as to what her lineage might be, besides just a vague "Near Human" classification. That could be problematic...

"So, now you know where you are?" the Mandalorian looked back over the arm and let her fingers dance gently across the bone and sinew.

Yup, it was definitely broken. Resetting it wasn't going to be fun.

"Don't ask me why I do this," she added, her voice so quiet that Sheresh almost wasn't sure the jetii could hear her. "I should kill you."

[Dire Wolf]

Tali had no small amount of apprehension as the medic looked over her arm, and gently ran her fingers along the skin above her wound. It hurt worse than chaos for her to do that, but the Jedi didn't do anything beyond clench her jaw tighter. She had been taught how to heal with her own power in the Force, and could do it fairly competently when she could be allowed to focus... but never how to do it the conventional way. Part of her was fascinated with the medic, even if she was from an opposing side.

Though, even that small fact could be questioned. The Order hadn't joined the war yet, save a radical (and short sighted) splinter group, and neither had she. Though, the Jedi were essentially the reason why the Mandalorians were in the terrible spot that they were. If roles were reversed, Tali would probably be breaking bones instead of mending them.

Though, by the sound of the 'near human's' response, that wasn't entirely out of the question. OR the attempt was, anyways. Tali may be wounded, but she could be in a half comatose state and still turn the mandalorian into an almost human badminton birdie. With a log being the racket. "Well, lets not do what we should be doing then.

Though, if it matters, I'm not a fighter in any war," she shook her head lightly at herself. "But... is this Concord Dawn? You're a Mandalorian, so its either that or Shogun... unless my computer screwed up that bad." She sighed when the scent of charred wood and molten steel caught her nose. "If you help me here, I promise I'll go straight to the nearest port and head back to coruscant."

[Rabbit]

Sheresh was silently thankful for the jetii didn't decided to cause trouble. The Mandalorian's Zeltron-influenced reaction was to help where help was needed, to assuage pain and negative emotion wherever she could.

But, that didn't mean she wouldn't put up a fight if challenged.

Sheresh felt the woman's apprehension, but the jetii didn't do anything foolish, so the medic continued as normal. After assessing the extent of the woman's damage - at least, in her arm - Sheresh stepped back and quickly shimmied out of her running tunic.

"Hope you don't mind if it's a little sweaty," she mumbled. "You'll need a sling," she added, by way of explanation.

Her tunic was old and frayed - she'd been planning to tear it up into shreds eventually, anyway, since strips of random cloth came in handy in her line of work. She wondered briefly if stripping in front of her patient would offend the Jedi's finer sensibilities - the few times Sheresh had heard others talk about the jettise, it had always brought to mind the image of an over-stuffed and pompous elitest.

They were both women, so in Sheresh's mind, it didn't matter.

Though, I suppose the males on base will get a bit of a show later.

That didn't really bother her, either.

"Well, lets not do what we should be doing then.

"Though, if it matters, I'm not a fighter in any war. But... is this Concord Dawn? You're a Mandalorian, so its either that or Shogun... unless my computer screwed up that bad. If you help me here, I promise I'll go straight to the nearest port and head back to Coruscant."

The medic listened as she took the woman's arm in her hands and let her talk her peace; the two stood still for a few minutes and Sheresh finally lifted her head to look the jetii in the eye.

"Yes, this is Concord Dawn," she figured it wouldn't hurt to admit where they were.

The jetii was smart. She'd figure it out, anyway. Sheresh lingered a few moments, wondering how much to say. Finally, she spoke again, her words soft, but firm.

"I'll take it, from your words, that you don't mean to be here. So, I think it's only fair to let you know that if we don't hurry up and patch you up, you'll be dead within the hour and not from my hand," Sheresh held the woman's eyes, willing her to understand the severity of her words. "This place ought to be crawling with soldiers and I suspect it will be, before too long. The smoke from your ship isn't going to go unnoticed for long."

The medic looked back down at the arm in her hands and addressed that, for a moment. The Jedi's eyes discomforted her, in a strange way she couldn't express. She felt like the woman was looking right through her, in a way that far surpassed her own simple ability to read emotions.

"I don't care what you do, when we're done. But, don't cause trouble for my people. You jetiise have done enough harm as it is. I might patch you up now, but if you give me any reason to suspect you're lying to me, I'll hunt you down myself."

Sheresh took a deep breath and tightened her grip on the woman's arm. Almost apologetically, she looked up and held the woman's eyes one more time. She smiled, ruefully - but a part of her felt at least a little bit justified in her actions by adding to the Jedi's pain. She moved her hands in time with her words, and swiftly reset the bone.

"This is going to hurt."

[Dire Wolf]

"I don't mind a little sweat," Tali responded to the mandalorian's mutterings, "so long as the sling works." The red head took little notice of the medic's now toplessness, and instead watched the woman fashion her sling.

She stayed silent as the woman spoke her peace, and couldn't help but think about the Jedi's possible involvement in the future. In her mind, the Mandalorians should be allowed the worlds that were rightfully theirs. But if they went beyond that, or the Jedi called her to fight them, she would without question.

Tali wasn't one for lieing, or promising falsely. Silence, at that point, felt like a promise. "I won't cause any problems for your people here, Mandalorian. But I can't promise you that I won't be called against your people later on, as the war drags on." That may not have been the smartest thing, but if Tali had one thing... it was integrity.

Though that was soon out of her mind as the woman whispered something just as she reset the broken bone in her arm. An indescribable pain seared through her bone, shot to her spine, and ran up to her skull. It was worse than when she was impaled. Easily worse than any of the other pains she'd endured before. Those crimson eyes closed to hold back the wetness that threatened to wash out onto her face, and her jaw closed tight to stifle the scream... which turned out to be a pathetic whimper.

"Yeah... thanks..."

[Rabbit]

The Jedi's shout of pain made Sheresh feel mildly conflicted - a part of her was indifferent to the woman's pain. A part of her felt bad for it. A larger part of her, felt that the pain was more than a little justified.

Setting aside differences to heal an enemy, didn't negate the enemy's status as...well..an enemy. Sheresh was still mildly suspicious about the Jedi's intentions, or her justification for being on Concord Dawn.

But, first things first. The medic immediately took her torn up tunic and wrapped the woman's arm in a quick, efficient sling.

"Stay here," she waved a finger in the Jedi's face and then trotted over to the smoking wreckage.

After a few minutes of fumbling and sifting, Sheresh found the IFAK; a quick investigation turned up a painkiller and a stim shot, each. Without a second's thought, Sheresh went back to the jetii, grabbed her hand, and pressed both needles into her uninjured hand.

"You might want these," she then stepped back and ran her fingers through her hair as she frowned slightly and considered the deeper ramifications of the mess they were in.

"How do you plan on getting off of Concord Dawn?" the medic's eyes flickered toward the wreckage and then back at the jetii; she lifted a slim, fiery-red eyebrow. "Seems to me, you'll cause problems, just by trying to leave."

[Dire Wolf]

Tali watched as the mandalorian began to slip her arm into the makeshift sling. Something uneasy welled up within Tali's chest at the sight of the woman's pink tinted skin, and for a brief moment the Jedi wondered how she just noticed that her 'savior' had taken her blouse off. The feeling was strange, though: it wasn't borne of her sixth sense or any possible danger... it was something else. It felt more natural than ethereal; as if something was wrong with her own body.

Obviously that wasn't far off from possible, Tali did just survive a crash landing. "I'm not going anywhere," the ginger sighed at the finger wag, observing the medic as she walked off into the wreckage. Tali's senses could pick up on a group of mandalorians approaching. They were wary, but not all were armed. Or even armored. Probably a team of medical and technical personnel investigating the crash site.

She barely noticed the two shots pierce her skin, though the odd combination of relief of pain and a rush of strength served to throw her mind out of searching through the Force. Tali glanced down at the two blossoming red dots on her hand that resembled a snake bite before looking back up at the mandalorian. It was a good question; one that Tali hadn't had the time to think of since she'd made her unfortunate landing on Concord Dawn. "I suppose I could smuggle myself onto a ship..."

Tali glanced back towards the road where Sheresh came from, and there didn't appear to be anyone there. To the naked eye. The jedi figured that she had about thirty seconds before the search party arrived at the crash site, and she couldn't just sprint off and leave her savior high and dry. Not when she would have had to explain the whereabouts of her shirt, as well as explain why the jedi's IFAK was rifled through, and who she used the pain killer and stim shots on. No. Instead, she turned to the ginger with a look of urgency in her eye.

Her twin lightsabers were in her hands within moments, though instead of burning to life in a igneous display of power they were held out to her pommel first, with the emitters facing their owner. "We don't have much time. Your compatriots are going to be here soon. Take these... at least until we split ways." Tali forced a small smile, despite the urgency of her situation.

Hopefully the mandalorian would take this as an attempt to confirm her story. Some people believe that a Jedi is nothing without their lightsaber... some jedi believe that. It was idiocy. Even a Jedi guardian would be worthless without the Force behind her... and Tali was a consular with her power vested in telekinesis. To be honest, she rarely used her lightsabers in combat anyways. The mandalorian didn't need to know that, though.

"We need to leave. Or I do," the Jedi said as she pointed her toes in a direction and wobbled off as fast as she could.

[Rabbit]

"I suppose I could smuggle myself onto a ship..."

Sheresh didn't meant to laugh, but she couldn't help a short snort of derision. The young medic put her hands on her hips and shook her head; her hair, which she had gathered back with a thick band, brushed lightly against her shoulder-blades.

"There aren't a lot of ships that leave Concord Dawn, you know," she frowned, slightly.

She really doesn't know that much about this place... It lent credence to the Jedi's insistence that she hadn't meant to crash-land in the middle of Mandalorian space.

"And those that do are usually military transports. You're kinda' stuck between a kath hound and a krayt dragon, if you don't mind me saying..."

Sheresh would have said more, but something about the Jedi's sudden tension stopped her mid-sentence. The medic took a breath, pursed her lips, and then froze. Her patient was looking past her, toward the forest behind them. Sheresh didn't even need to be half-Zeltron, to recognize the look of worry that flashed deep inside of the female's strange, red eyes.

The Mandalorian half-turned herself and looked over her shoulder. She took a deep breath and reached out with her empathy - she could feel them, too. Others. Feelings of curiosity, worry, determination, anger, suspicion, hit her in a volatile wave of emotion. Sheresh bit her lip and turned back toward her patient; worry became her primary concern.

"They'll kill you," she stated the hard facts in a flat monotone.

Her eyes flickered toward the used needles and the IFAK laying half-used on the ground at their feet.

And they might kill me. Shoot first. Ask questions later.

Sheresh didn't blame her fellow Mandalorians for their abrupt ways. She strove to be more like them, herself - except that her Togorian buir had taught her to always think before she pulled a trigger.

A warrior is more than her armor, She'ika, she heard Ru'buir's voice in her head. Always use your head, first. Your feelings, second. Then, your weapon.

Sheresh glanced back at the Jedi, her decision made.

"I did not patch you up, just to watch you get shot dead," she growled through her teeth.

Given the circumstances, her determination could have been misconstrued as anger, but her tone didn't seem to bother her unusual companion. Instead, they seemed to spur the Jedi into action, as she suddenly pulled two unfamiliar objects out of her robes and shoved them toward a starteled Sheresh.

"Your compatriots are going to be here soon. Take these... at least until we split ways."

The woman offered a small smile and for several seconds, Sheresh could only sputter. Her hands moved of their own volition, however, and in reflexes long-trained into her, she responded instantly to the offer of a weapon.

She took the lightsabers offered to her and stared at them, wide-eyed, for a few seconds longer. Sheresh's mind reeled.

Why? she wanted to shove them back at the female and call her a di'kut.

After all, what did the jetti think she was going to do without her own weapons? For another second more, Sheresh wondered if she'd been offered the lightsabers as a means to fool her fellow Mandalorians - after all, if they saw her holding the lightsabers, they'd shoot her and ask questions much later. Giving the jetti some borrowed time to run.

Or, at least, try.

"We need to leave. Or I do."

The jetti broke into Sheresh's confusion and the medic snapped her head up, just in time to watch the female wobble feebly on her feet. Sheresh felt her out for a moment, but there wasn't any sense of dishonesty or treachery in the other female. Why she handed Sheresh her own weapons was an even puzzling mystery, in the absence of ulterior motives, but the Mandalorian was - if nothing else - practical.

She was unarmed herself. And she knew better than to lift a gift bantha in the mouth.

Sheresh just snorted, shook her head, and shoved the lightsabers into the corresponding pockets of her running pants.

"You're not going anywhere fast like that, I can assure you," it only took two quick steps for Sheresh to catch up to the wavering Jedi.

Without a word, Sheresh grabbed the other female by her waist and crouched down into her knees. She pushed her shoulder into the woman's weight and with relative ease, born not so much from strength, but simply from having done the same so many times before, the medic picked the Jedi up and manuvered her shoulders until the other woman's weight was distributed evenly across her shoulders.

Sheresh had draped much larger, bulkier men across her shoulders in a similar fashion, a hundred times before. She trained for this and she had done it on countless battlefields, to quickly move the moderately wounded to safer places. She didn't even think about it, really, and didn't really care if she had offended the Jedi's pride.

Things weren't going to be very pretty for either of them, if they were caught near the wreckage. And Sheresh wasn't waiting for the jetti to magically heal herself, or catch some mythical second wind.

In true Mandalorian fashion, Sheresh put her strength, her training, and her practicality to the problem at hand. With a soft grunt and a shake of her shoulders - to set the Jedi to best efficiency against her body - Sheresh started a slow, but steady jog into the forest.

Away from the running path and away from her approaching vode.

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[OOC: I suppose we're done with this thread until Dire comes back. *pouts* If/When he comes back, I guess we'll see about starting this up in a new thread. But, knowing military schools the way I do - and the Marine Corps in particular - I'd say it'll be a while. Until then....]

~ Fin ~