The medbay was packed to the brim with injured, many with blaster wounds. She’d expected the boarders to be armed, but Bast’s heart still sank when she saw the bodies, peppered with burns. These pirates were not skillful killers. They were the blunt ‘shoot until it stops moving’ type, more interested in achieving a goal than minimizing carnage. It was likely a flurry of electrified bolts would be released at even the slightest sign of movement. Overkill, but an effective method for fighters with mediocre skill. Nevertheless, the threat was real. The number of hostiles was unknown and the Rangers were barely armed. Poor shooters could still kill a practically helpless rangers from meters away. The woman knew that fact too well.
Bast knew Corran had been trying to reach out. She hadn’t missed his worried expressions or cautionary posture, as if she was a feral kath hound. For all she knew, she could be. Every moment was another chance for the dam of emotions to break, for her to lose herself in a past she couldn’t differentiate from the present. The potential horrified her. Every fleeing crew member, every grind of metal agitated her in an irrational way. Recognizing the inconsistency in her mind only made the woman increasingly frustrated. She shouldn’t be feeling that way. Even the detective could recognize there was no reason for such a visceral mental reaction. Logic did nothing to ease the irritation, however.
“Bast-!” Perhaps she could finally confide in him, tell him what it felt like to being going insane and know it. Tell him she a hair away from completely breaking under the pressure of memories, but had to live with it because it was too late to back out and she was too proud. Not only that, but he could reciprocate, tell her his demons. The woman wanted to comfort him, even embrace him, though perhaps more for her sake than his. Scratch that. The professional facade between them could not be broken, especially now. Priorities were elsewhere.
Before any thought could be verbalized by either partner, an announcement came on the intercom, hard to make out with all the commotion. Having just processed the information after mentally patching together pieces of audio, she was left helpless in the middle of the room. The floor shifted violently from under the female Sector Ranger’s feet, the force of an impact throwing her completely off balance. Forearms and knees hit the ground hard, but she sprang back up almost immediately, before the pain could set in. Corran, the poor lad, appeared to have hit the squeaky-clean floor with the force of a small cruiser. She waited for him in the doorway, then ran with him to catch up with the Lieutenant. Hopefully he would understand she wouldn’t leave behind one of her own and excuse their delay.
Utter chaos still reigned in the vessel. Crew flooded past the three advancing figures, tripping over each other and giving incoherent, garbled warnings. The cautions of a terrified crowd would not, however, scare away the three Sector Rangers. They did not have the luxury to run. As they ran through the complex of halls, the hubbub died, replaced by a chirping siren and strobing warning lights. A raised fist from Corran indicated a halt. His hand also indicated four hostiles. Four against three relatively unarmed combatants was hardly a fair fight, but unlike the woman, the galaxy did not care about justice. Completely unsure of the next step, she looked to Lt. Rook. Not only would it be presumptuous to give orders, but she was unable to give a command she could be confident it.
@Darasuum
@TerranSteel
Bast knew Corran had been trying to reach out. She hadn’t missed his worried expressions or cautionary posture, as if she was a feral kath hound. For all she knew, she could be. Every moment was another chance for the dam of emotions to break, for her to lose herself in a past she couldn’t differentiate from the present. The potential horrified her. Every fleeing crew member, every grind of metal agitated her in an irrational way. Recognizing the inconsistency in her mind only made the woman increasingly frustrated. She shouldn’t be feeling that way. Even the detective could recognize there was no reason for such a visceral mental reaction. Logic did nothing to ease the irritation, however.
“Bast-!” Perhaps she could finally confide in him, tell him what it felt like to being going insane and know it. Tell him she a hair away from completely breaking under the pressure of memories, but had to live with it because it was too late to back out and she was too proud. Not only that, but he could reciprocate, tell her his demons. The woman wanted to comfort him, even embrace him, though perhaps more for her sake than his. Scratch that. The professional facade between them could not be broken, especially now. Priorities were elsewhere.
Before any thought could be verbalized by either partner, an announcement came on the intercom, hard to make out with all the commotion. Having just processed the information after mentally patching together pieces of audio, she was left helpless in the middle of the room. The floor shifted violently from under the female Sector Ranger’s feet, the force of an impact throwing her completely off balance. Forearms and knees hit the ground hard, but she sprang back up almost immediately, before the pain could set in. Corran, the poor lad, appeared to have hit the squeaky-clean floor with the force of a small cruiser. She waited for him in the doorway, then ran with him to catch up with the Lieutenant. Hopefully he would understand she wouldn’t leave behind one of her own and excuse their delay.
Utter chaos still reigned in the vessel. Crew flooded past the three advancing figures, tripping over each other and giving incoherent, garbled warnings. The cautions of a terrified crowd would not, however, scare away the three Sector Rangers. They did not have the luxury to run. As they ran through the complex of halls, the hubbub died, replaced by a chirping siren and strobing warning lights. A raised fist from Corran indicated a halt. His hand also indicated four hostiles. Four against three relatively unarmed combatants was hardly a fair fight, but unlike the woman, the galaxy did not care about justice. Completely unsure of the next step, she looked to Lt. Rook. Not only would it be presumptuous to give orders, but she was unable to give a command she could be confident it.
@Darasuum
@TerranSteel