Ask Invasion Onderon Onderon Invasion: Senate Building

[Altair Din]

Altair kept stumbling forward, testing piles of debris here and there to see if anything gave away to cut a path. He was rapidly losing energy trying to use Force sight and he began to feel light-headed. He was sure he was bleeding from somewhere and his entire body felt as if he had been trucked by a speeder. The tiefling paused when he heard the Jedi speak up. His face scrunched up in confusion beneath the helmet. Prisoner? The thought had quite frankly never occurred to him. His fights normally ended in his opponents either dying or being beaten within an inch of their life and him completing his objective. What the hell could a padawan even provide in terms of useful intel? Altair rolled his eyes and continued walking forward.

“Does it seem like I wanna babysit some brat right now?” He finally responded back, taking off his helmet once more to breathe more freely. He coughed a few times, tasting copper in his mouth, “Ain’t in the mood to drag you back only to have the most useful data be what kinda mush they serve at the Jedi temple cafeterias.”

Altair spotted a pile of debris that went up towards the level above. He could see a faint light that suggested it was a potential way up. The tiefling slowly began to climb the pile, having no real energy to use the Force right then. He hoisted himself up and grabbed a pipe that was protruding out and the chunk of debris below him gave away. With a gasp, he abruptly fell down again, landing on his back with a thud as he stared up at the light.

“Ughhhh,” He groaned to himself as he just laid there for a moment. A quick check on his comms suggested there was no signal. He was far too heavy to climb his way up or secure a way out. Altair exhaled and blinked up, not moving a muscle for a long moment.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

While the Tiefling stumbled around like a wasted zombie, looking for a way out, Samara just stood there, watching him. Listening to him, to be more accurate, as she still didn't trust him not to snap her neck the moment she turned her back to him. She couldn't understand why he hadn't attacked her yet, especially when he'd come so close to killing her earlier. This was not the behavior of a Sith, not after what she'd witnessed on Sullust. They were monsters, cold and unfeeling and capable of the worst kinds of atrocities imaginable. If he hadn't killed her yet, it could only mean one thing: he was biding his time. For what, she had no idea, but she knew that this was not mercy. The Sith were incapable of it.

Samara might have been beaten down—a combination of the diplomat's cutting remarks, the realization of her own failure, and the literal beating the Sith had given her, but just enough self-respect persisted within her to bristle at the insults of the Sith. Who was he to lecture her? She wasn't the one invading a planet where she was not welcome or trying to drag the few living sentients that would survive off to Sith Space.

"What? I'm not even worth capturing?" she asked in a tart tone, without thinking, her mouth twisting into an ugly, soured expression. Only after she'd said it did she realize the idiocy of the remark. She didn't want to be a prisoner of the Empire, just another victory they could taut, so shy should she care? Pride. First, she'd endured the quibbling of the diplomats, and now the unjust jeers of a Sith. Could none of them see that she was doing everything she could, against insurmountable odds? Or was the galaxy irrevocably steeped in their hatred for the Jedi? She couldn't stop herself from adding, "I know... things! Important things!"
Well, now she'd really put her foot in her mouth. He probably wouldn't believe her anyway. The wreckage gave way beneath the Tiefling's feet, piles of dirt and rock scattering until the beam of light shined brighter, providing some sense of visual conception. Samara didn't care that he'd fallen. On the contrary, she considered it a taste of his own medicine, and well deserved. The only disappointment she felt was in regards to an escape, as the hole where the light poured fourth was out of their reach. They'd have to find another way.

A different opportunity had presented itself, however, and this was her chance. The Sith was down, wounded if all the groaning and complaining was any indication. The galvanized pipe felt heavy in her hands, as if what she was about to do was wrong, heartless, but she didn't relinquish her hold. This wasn't wrong. How could it be? He was a Sith, and he would kill her the first chance he got. The fact that he hadn't already... well, that was only indicative of some kind of plan, and one she wasn't going to wait around to find out about the hard way. She was just defending herself, while she still could. At least that's what she told herself.

One foot shuffled in front of the other, her legs nearly buckling a time or two to send her tumbling forward into the dirt again. As she drew closer, looming over him in the darkness, her breath hitched in her throat. He must have heard her coming, so she didn't have a lot of time for hesitation or second thoughts. She raised the galvanized pipe, ready to bring it down on his head.

But she didn't. She stopped, arm already raised, the pipe leveled over her shoulder. Not because her conscious had gotten the better of her but because she felt something. Air. Moving air. An identifiable, if faint, breeze, skimming exposed skin where clothing had been torn. "Wait. Did you feel that?" she asked, talking to herself more than she was to him. That could only mean one thing—some kind of passageway or a hole. Possibly a way out. Violet eyes snapped back to the Tiefling's dark form, anticipating movement or an attack. If he so much as budged, she'd bring the pipe down on his head. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Was she…disappointed that he wasn’t taking her back as a prisoner? “Damn, the housing in the Jedi temples can’t be that bad,” Altair mused, genuinely surprised by her being upset. However, when she sputtered about knowing things, the tiefling had to scoff, “Okay, tell me how to get outta here then.”

The Jedi likely thought she was as sneaky and slick as infamous assassin Basilisk. She more closely sounded like Senator Aezz on his way to a meeting with Emryc Thorne in it. Altair tilted his head back to look at her, scowling as he could easily make out the profile of a weapon in her hands. Really? He had to keep himself from sighing as he gazed back up at the ceiling again. Altair stared blankly up at her as she came to stand above him, the pipe held up menacingly above her head.

“Do it,” He said as he raised a finger and pointed it towards his temple, “Right here. Hard and fast. It’ll knock me out so I won’t have to keep sharing precious oxygen with your pixie ass for a second longer,” Altair said grumpily. He blinked up at her and actually crossed his arms over his chest from where he was lying down, glaring up at her. At some point he even checked his sporty chrono to further mock her for taking her time in striking him.

When she mentioned feeling something, Altair rolled his eyes, “Only thing I’m feelin’ is my blood pressure goin’ up,” He remarked. After he stared at her long enough, he decided she wasn’t going to pull some bullshit - hopefully. With a grunt, he finally rose to sit up and slowly got to his feet. He coughed a few more times, pain shooting through his entire body. After a moment, he felt that brush of air as well and immediately turned in that direction.

He didn’t wait around and began to half stumble down that path. Altair glanced over his shoulder, “Keep that pipe handy, may need you to heroically defend against some rats down here. That’s hopefully more appropriate for your skill range,” He said snickering to himself before he shook his head and kept walking.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

The Chalactan scowled, her jaw clenched so tight that it was beginning to hurt. Now more than ever she was determined to smack this nerve burner upside the head, and she never did lower the pipe she clutched to as if her life depended on it, not until he pulled himself up and wandered off. As infuriated as she was, she was tempted to just attack him from behind. Generally, there was no honor in such an attack, but with a Sith? You had to fight to survive. But she thought better of the idea, simply because she realized she might need him to move debris out of the way of the passage. Her strength hadn't returned and wasn't likely to, not for some time.

Reluctantly, Samara followed the Tiefling, cutting their own path over and through the piles of debris. No step was reliable, and even the slightest amount of unnecessary pressure meant their footholds could collapse, sending them tumbling down into the wreckage. It didn't help that the Sith had to weighh at least two hundred pounds. He charged forward like a bull in a china shop, still stumbling around without any regard or interest for the Chalactan behind him, who had to deal with the consequences. But this was her only option, so she pressed forward, as quickly and gently as possible.

They'd come to a stop at the edge of the pit, soil and rock packed tight, where earthen walls stretched upward into the darkness. Who knew how far down they were? Samara looked around, eyes straining to see anything, so she began to rely on her senses once more. Just as she'd been taught to do from a young age, as a Jedi and as a Chalactan Adept before that. She stood still, waiting for even the smallest gust of air, and then she reached out with her left hand, pale fingers creeping along the wall until she felt what she was looking for. A cavity in the side of the rock, just big enough for them to crawl through.

"Here it is," she grumbled, contemplating just crawling in and letting him find it for himself. She withdrew her hand and stepped back, giving him room to approach. "After you." If the Sith thought for one moment that she was being generous or anything close to it, he was severely mistaken. Samara wanted him to go first, just in case there was a steep drop off on the other side or it was a dead end. And because she could give him a good kick from behind as he crawled in, which was the least he deserved.
"If you can even fit." She'd leave it at that, letting him wonder if she was referring to his size or his horns. It wasn't really an insult, unfortunately, but it was the only snide remark she could come up with at the moment. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

As Altair continued to walk, the air grew thinner and he began to feel lightheaded. He began to see spots in his vision, and even that slight little trickle of air from earlier wasn’t enough for him. He began to breathe heavily, his chest straining with each intake. Along with his injuries, he was having a rough time. His steps were slightly zigzagged, his tail drooping and lazily trailing on the ground behind him. His head felt like mush and he felt dizzy.

He looked over when she mentioned a way out, inspecting the crevice. This time, there was no quip or snappy retort from him. Altair stared at the small gap, remaining perfectly still even after she gestured for him to go ahead and mocked his ability to do so. She would find him continuing to stare blankly at the gap and not move a muscle.

After a few seconds, he slowly exhaled, “You’re right. I won’t fit through there,” He finally declared very quietly, a defeated and almost sad tone in his voice, “And if I widen the gap, it could collapse even more of the building,” Altair exhaled again heavily, trying to breathe, “Go on, get out. Get some training so you don’t get your ass beat next time,” He told her as he stumbled past her and back towards where he had been before. He felt that familiar dizziness almost overwhelming him, a sickness that consumed him from the lack of breathable air.

He only managed a few more steps before he abruptly collapsed with a heavy thud. His vision went black and he knew no more.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

Minutes ticked by, and the two of them just stood there. The Tiefling never made a move or gave any inclination that he intended to crawl through first. Did he want her to go first? Was he claustrophobic? Or was he a pretty boy that didn't want to risk scratching his horns? As soon as Samara stopped to feel rather than assume, she sensed the pain that inhibited him, and she listened to his breathing, ragged and forced, as if every gulp of oxygen he took was ripped out of his lungs before it had a chance to reach his blood stream. She watched him stumble away, back toward the spot where he'd fallen earlier, and she didn't reach out to help guide him or hold him upright, and she didn't ask him if he was alright, both of which she would have done for anyone else. But he wasn't just anyone. He was a Sith, and the man who had tried to kill her earlier.

He didn't make it far, collapsing only a few feet away, his large frame displacing the settling dust as soon as it hit the ground. Samara coughed once, swatting the particles away with her empty hand. Was he really unconscious? The Chalactan took two steps forward and kicked his leg. Nothing. She kicked it again. Still nothing. With a grimace and two outstretched fingers that threatened to instantly repel from the touch, she lifted his arm up by the wrist, holding it at arm's length, as if she might catch some kind of disease. It fell right back to the earth below, limp. He was still breathing, and she could feel his heartbeat through the Force, slow and steady. He wasn't dead. Just unconscious, and she wasn't sure if she ought to be relieved or disappointed by that discovery, but she found that she was a little of both.

This was a dilemma she had never faced before, and one she had never even considered. Her first instinct was to leave, to crawl through that hole in search of a way out of this miserable, forsaken pit. This was war, after all, and he was the enemy. The Jedi weren't obligated to rescue Sith, and no one would expect her to to stay behind with the man that had tried to kill her. Not even he expected her to. He'd said she could leave.

So she did exactly that, brushing her hands off on her pants as if the gesture would also brush away her responsibility. Then she turned and marched toward the cavity in the wall, not bothering to look back as she crawled inside. He'd do the same to you, she told herself as she army crawled on her stomach.
Except he hadn't, and that thought made her stop. Just because she wasn't obligated to save him, did it necessarily follow that she shouldn't? No one would think less of her, expect perhaps, for herself. Her self-esteem was already at an all-time low, thanks to the diplomat's words and her own embarrassing failure. Did she need another thing hanging over her head? A sentient life weighing on her conscious? Could she live with herself?

Wrong or right, she didn't know, but she did know what she had to do. "Dosh it all," she grumbled to herself, furious that she didn't have the will to just press on and leave him behind. She hit her head several times backing out of the hole, which only helped fuel her sour mood. The pipe was tossed to one side, still within reach, should she need it. Violet eyes raked over the Sith's broad-shouldered torso before snapping back toward the hole. He'd fit alright. She'd make sure of that.

Samara reached down and grabbed the Tiefling by the ankles and pulled, but nothing happened. He didn't budge an inch. So she placed his feet below her armpit, wrapped her arms around them, and tugged again, but he still didn't move. "Kriff, you're heavy," she practically whined, letting his feet drop unceremoniously to the ground.

This would've been so much easier if she could just tune her conscience out for half an hour and move on with her life. Hands outstretched, this time around she called upon the Force instead of her own failing physical strength, lifting the Tiefling's body off the ground and guiding it toward the hole. His feet tucked in first, followed by the rest of him. It was going great, up until the horns, and then progress came to an abrupt and screeching halt. Samara let out a long, agitated sigh and shoved her shoulder into his horns to try and make them fit through the opening. She'd struggle in vain for several minutes, using not only her shoulder but her back and her hands, until finally giving up. It was a lost cause. His horns were never going to fit, and she'd just have to accept that else risk breaking one of them.

"I hate you," she moaned, for all the good it would do her. He couldn't hear a word she was saying and was probably having the time of his life passed out, blissfully unaware of his surroundings as he dreamed about.... whatever Sith dreamed about. She'd never even considered what might bring someone like him happiness or joy, or if that was something he was even capable of. She knew she needed to pull him back out, but she was exhausted. For the time being, she would just lean against the wall, trying to catch her breath as she stared at him. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair was delightfully oblivious to everything that was going on. He was already heavy and he wore his armor on top of that. Every now and then he gave a soft grunt while she tried to move him around, but he was out cold otherwise. There was almost a peaceful look on his face and it would be difficult to remember that he was a cold-blooded Sith warrior.

Several moments passed after her ill-fated attempt at jamming him through the tunnel. As he had declared earlier, his giant horns would absolutely not fit through the opening. He remained stuck there for a while even as the Jedi sat there and considered her options. After a few more minutes ticked by, he drew in more oxygen from being closer to an exit. He drew in a deeper breath and coughed a few times. His eyes slowly blinked open and adjusted in the darkness. Altair groaned from the pain that rattled his whole body and he looked around completely confused. Where the hell was he? And why was his body stuck in a tunnel?

Altair tilted his head back and spotted the Jedi from earlier squatting near him and just plain staring at him like a creep. The tiefling scowled at her, “The fuck?” He blurted out, trying to move, only to have his horns scrape the side of the walls. Altair could hardly move, “Did you seriously try to jam me through here?!” He asked in exasperation, half impressed she even managed this much, “I literally told you I wouldn’t fit! Now you got your ass stuck too!” Altair couldn’t believe this girl. He didn’t even have words, still processing it all.

The tiefling surveyed the crevice and exhaled, “I’m going to blast outwards,” He explained after a moment, “I’ll hold it with a temporary barrier,” Altair paused to take a few breaths, still labored, “Climb over me and keep moving because the tunnel will collapse behind us as soon as I drop the barrier. I’ll need you to yank me when you’ve climbed past me as the tunnel drops,” Altair couldn’t believe what he was saying, but in truth, there was no other way. He had to do this initially to let her slip past, and it was up to her if she would yank him with the Force as soon as he released the barrier.

His gaze lingered on hers for a long moment, a faint hint of fear crossing his eyes for the first time. He hated this, and she would know it. But he wasn’t ready to die just yet. Waking up from losing control and passing out had terrified him. He wanted to see another day. He wanted to see his family. He wanted to see his friends. He had to get out of here, and she was his only way out. Altair wasn’t even sure why he said what he did next, but he blurted it out all the same.

“My name is Altair,” He said very quietly, keeping his gaze on her.

Altair took one last deep breath and used the last bits of his energy to blast up and out with the Force. The result was a massive crack that split the sides of the tunnel, making the entire thing cave out and finally make space for his horns. His entire body trembled as he suspended the collapsed wall and debris with the barrier, giving her a window to crawl above and past him.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

Great. He was waking up. There was no time to hide her mistake now, and Samara could already hear the witty commentary he just wouldn't be able to keep to himself. Just what she needed—someone else to remind her of what an idiot she was. "What did you expect me to do, laser brain? Leave you face down in the dirt?" That was exactly what he'd expected. "It's not my fault your horns are so massive!" she added, waving an exaggerated hand at each of them.
After that, she fell silent again, drawing herself up to her full height as if that would save her pride. The Chalactan stared at him, violet eyes full of clear and unmistakable judgement as she listened to him explain the plan he had managed to hatch right then and there on the spot. It was absolutely insane, had no possibility of success, and would probably get them both killed, but what choice did she have?

She jerked her head back, exhaling sharply. She couldn't believe she was about to agree to this. He was trusting her with his life, and she was trusting hers to him. "Fine. But don't touch me," she warned, eyes as thin as slits. She didn't like the idea of having to crawl over him.

For her part in the plan, Samara had reservations that she would not express. She was concerned, worried that she wouldn't be able to pull it off. Today had been nothing but one defeat after another. How did he expect her to pull this off? But their lives depended on her. He was depending on her, too. She could see it in his eyes, sense it coming off of him in subtle waves—the fear. She felt it, too, and had since the moment he first stepped off that Sith shuttle.

The Chalactan stood there, waiting for his signal, but he continued to just stair at her. Then, out of nowhere, he introduced himself. It took her by surprise, as evidenced by the dazed look she gave him and the way her eyes widened, blinking. She wasn't sure how she ought to respond to that, but something inside her shifted. Altair. Now she knew his name. A name to go with the face—to go with the Sith. This life that depended on her? That counted on her? His name was Altair. No pressure then.

Rock and earth began to crack and snap, breaking off into pieces as it split in half and shook. That was her cue, and she didn't hesitate as she had earlier when she'd touched his wrist, crawling right over his head. One of his horns poked her leg, but she didn't let it stop her, her only acknowledgement a sharp, "Ow!" as she simultaneously bumped her head. It was odd, being this close to a Sith and not be actively engaged in a duel to the death, but she tried her best to focus on getting out of here alive.

As soon as she came out on the other side, she spun around and reached out with the Force, using the last bit of strength she possessed and every ounce of adrenaline that coursed through her to pull him out. She just hoped he would make it out alive, and if he did, that all two hundred pounds of him wouldn't come crashing into her. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair glared as she warned him not to touch her. Really? That was her chief concern at a time like this? “Damn, here I was thinkin' a life or death crisis is the perfect time to cop a feel of your scrawny ass,” Altair quipped back moodily, “Right after I caught you eyein' me like I’m Sunday roast,” He practically growled in irritation, coughing a few times as he attempted to keep the debris suspended. Altair felt a horn poke her leg and derived a bit of satisfaction from it. Served her right for being a pain. He grunted as her knees practically buried into his chest on her way out, a few pebbles and rocks falling on his face as the barrier faltered. Altair began to silently panic, almost considering yelling at her to avoid accidentally stomping on his family jewels on her way as it would get them both killed. Before he could start sweating bullets, she thankfully scrambled past him without incident.

“Okay… three….two….one…” He squeezed his eyes shut as he finally dropped the barrier, expecting to die right there.

However, he felt himself abruptly pulled down the length of the tunnel, the air rushing past him as he slid right through and came out on the other side. Altair inhaled deeply and could finally breathe properly, though they were still underground somewhere. For the first time, he looked at her and smiled, his face covered in dust and soot, “Thanks,” He blurted out, genuinely grateful. He could hear rumbling behind them that suggested that the entire tunnel collapsed. There was no way back to where they came from.

Altair looked around and realized they were in a larger tunnel. He slowly got to his feet but still had to hunch a bit. He took a few steps and turned a corner and grimaced at the stench that emanated from the much larger tunnel adjacent to where he turned the corner.

“I think we’re in a sewage tunnel,” He said in dismay. Altair glanced down to spot the thick, murky ‘water’. Treading through it was the only way to get to where the sewage was dumped and their only ticket out.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

Samara breathed a sigh of relief, flopping onto her back to stare up at the ceiling of the tunnel they found themselves in. Her chest rose and fell with every labored breath she took, the adrenaline gradually wearing off. She couldn't believe that that plan had actually worked, and that they'd both come out on the other side alive and with all of their limbs intact.

"Don't mention it," she replied, her voice subdued. Somehow, hearing a Sith thank her, didn't sit right with her. Her gaze drifted to the Tiefling, and she would stare at him for a moment, head tilted to one side as if she were studying him, before her eyes ping ponged back to the ceiling. They were supposed to hate each other, not be indebted to each other. Not smile at each other. And that was that.
The Chalactan continued to lie there, not budging. Exhaustion had crept up on her. Not a day went by that she didn't train, that she didn't prepare for moments like these, but this was different. Not knowing whether she would live or die from one moment to the next, if the Sith—if Altair—would die because of her mistakes... she wasn't accustomed to that. And she had to wonder—was that something she'd ever get used to? Or was this how it would always feel?

It wasn't until the Tiefling spoke up again that she propped herself up on her elbows, violet eyes flicking in his direction. "Sewage? Is that what that smell is? And here I thought you got scared." A smile crept unbidden across her lips, almost playful in nature, and unrestrained. It was the first time she had smiled.... all day, now that she thought about it. Her voice lacked the mocking tone it had possessed earlier, and it was obvious that she had yet to come down from the high of that near death experience.

Then her smile wavered, the longer she stared at him, and she stood up abruptly, dusting her hands off and walking past him. "No way out but down I suppose..." The Chalcatan frowned, peering into the murky liquid and trying not to think about what might be floating in it. There was no chance of getting the Sith to carry her either, she thought to herself with some amusement. That was for sure. So she took the plunge, realizing that the longer she waited the harder it would be to take that first step.

"This is absolutely disgusting," she groaned, burying her nose in the crook of her elbow to help ward off the stench. Iziz's borders didn't extend past the city walls, so the sewage was most likely dumped somewhere in the jungle. She supposed they'd find out soon enough exactly where. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair almost did a double take at her quip about the smell and him potentially soiling himself. The tiefling blinked down at her for a moment before his face unexpectedly broke out into a smile. Before he could stop himself, he began to chuckle softly, genuinely amused by the surprisingly apt jab. The laugh echoed throughout the hollow tunnel and even his tail swished a bit. The grin remained on Altair’s face, “Girl’s got jokes,” He said with a pleased tone, his voice missing that biting edge it had to it this entire time so far.

The tiefling sighed in dismay as he nodded in agreement about getting down into the gross water. Altair scrunched up his face as they began to walk through the gunk. He made a point not to look down and inspect exactly what he was walking in. The stench was almost unbearable and he had to bite back from dry heaving. However, he took solace in the fact that there was an ending to this and it would lead them out.

For a long moment, they plodded and splashed along in silence. Altair no doubt felt as awkward and strange as she did - walking side by side with an enemy that attempted to murder them a while ago. His mind vaguely drifted to the larger battle that was taking place. He had no idea which side was winning - he had no idea what the Dark Lord was doing, but he still felt the lingering impacts of his frosty presence. He could hear distant thuds or explosions to suggest the battle was still raging. Altair thought back to the building and the troops that entered with him. Had any of them survived? Had any of the diplomats survived? Were his objectives completed?

All of those thoughts sounded exhausting and the smell wasn’t helping him concentrate. Altair tilted his head to glance over at the Jedi.

“Why didn’t you run away?” He asked so quietly he almost wondered if she heard him. If she didn’t, he wouldn’t repeat the question. Altair looked ahead of himself again, beginning to see hints of light that suggested a location where the sewage spilled out.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

The Tiefling looked like he was shocked, possibly even a little bit pleased, to learn that she possessed a sense of humor. There was a lot more to the Jedi than the galaxy gave them credit for. Than the Sith gave them credit for. They weren't the celibate monks that lived and breathed their Jedi code and never strayed farther than the temple walls for human interaction. Although, that did sound a lot like Master Oola. Maybe the Sith would've realized that, if they weren't so determined to hunt the Jedi to the ends of the galaxy and kill them all off, one by one. She glanced at Altair. Maybe there was more to the Sith, too, than met the eye. Maybe. Or maybe it was just this particular Sith.

Why was this something she was even considering? The adrenaline rush must not have worn off yet. It was the only logical explanation. Once it had, she was confident that... whatever this was would return to normal. That she would return to normal, to a clear and uncomplicated headspace that didn't include teaming up with a Sith.

The unlikely pair walked for some time, the tunnel stretching on for what felt like miles but was probably only several hundred feet. No words passed between them, the distant sounds of a battle raging on the surface of the planet the background noise to the rushing water around them and the occasional, unsettling squelch whenever they stepped on something... questionable. When Altair inclined his head toward her, she expected some witty comment about the stench that continued to follow them, but he asked her a question instead. A pointed question that even she didn't know the answer to yet. Her natural inclination was to retreat within herself, and to pretend she hadn't heard him. But she didn't.

"I... I'm not sure." She saw no reason to hide the truth. They both understood where the other one stood in the war and what role they played. "I almost did," she admitted, violet eyes passing over him briefly. "But I couldn't just leave you there to die." Trying to make it less personal, she added, "Jedi value all life." She'd never once thought that extended to the Sith, but perhaps it did. Just for today.
Restless hands reached up to tuck her hair behind her ears, making a point not to look over at him again. She wasn't convinced she wanted to gauge his reaction to that comment. "Just.... don't make me have to save you again," she added so she didn't sound too soft. Samara wanted to ask him the same question—why had he bothered to help her out of the rubble? And why hadn't he killed her then, when he had the chance? But she didn't, allowing the silence to stretch on, an invisible buffer settling between them.

The long and winding tunnel eventually opened up into a large, underground room, where watered poured into a cistern. The dark, malodorous water churned and roared before flowing into massive pipes, where it undoubtedly would eventually flow into treatment facilities. It looked like a dead end, unless they wanted to go for a swim and catch some kind of disease.

Samara turned to suggest they turn back and go the other direction, when a series of explosions rattled above. Bombing runs, by the sounds of it. The tunnel began to shake violently, and then there was a burst of brilliant, blinding light where a stray bomb tore a hole in the passageway. Bomb fragments and shards of metal struck the pair, and the concussive blast knocked Samara back.

The Chalactan plunged into the water, flailing and gasping for air as she was swept under the surface of the water, her fate left up to the mercy of the undercurrent. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair began to smile faintly, but she would notice him visibly stiffen when she added on that ‘Jedi valued all life’. He paused walking just for a moment before he continued again, but it was enough for her to notice. The smile faded at once, that familiar cold and distant look emerging on his face again. He was reminded once again of Clove and those strict Jedi principles that drove every action of hers. How being Jedi always, always trumped who they were as individuals. It brought him a pang of pain far worse than anything the building debris ever could. He had long since accepted that he had grown to love Clove at some point, which made it all the more painful to remember that it was only an idea of her that he loved. In truth, she was Jedi first and Clove second. It was a fact that stung him and one that took him a while to come to terms with.

Hearing this girl fall back on her actions being solely due to being a Jedi reminded him all over again what these people were. Why, then, did he struggle to be Sith first? Was he weaker for it? He didn’t see Raze or other powerful Sith ever find conflict in that, so then why did he? Why couldn’t he simply just kill the girl and get it over with? Because he needed her help getting out. He reminded himself of that because that was easier to accept than the idea that he couldn’t be Sith before being Altair.

“I didn’t make you the first time,” He stated flatly after her request to not make her do it again. The slight warmth that had been in his tone earlier was once again gone. His gaze remained fixed ahead, his demeanor shifting back to the icy Sith that first entered the Senate building.

As they turned a few corners, Altair couldn’t help the disappointment as it turned out to be another dead end. The pool of water rushed towards a treatment facility and there was no way out. The tiefling was also about to turn back when the explosion rocked the surface, blasting a hole right above them. Altair had been in warzones before and he quickly doubled down to shield himself from the blast. Even then, he was thrown back against a wall with small shards embedding into his armor and body.

The tiefling rose up and blinked up at the light, pulling out a few bits of debris from his armor and superficially from his skin. It was then that he heard the girl, spotting her being swept away in the water. The tiefling rushed to the edge of the platform but stopped short of following her, his violet gaze trailing her. There was a sense of chilling calm in the way he watched her being pulled away by the current.

“A Jedi’s life is sacrifice,” He called out as he slowly walked along the length of the platform and each time her head came up above water, and he began reciting a code, “There is no emotion, there is only peace,” He called out as he gazed at her fear stricken eyes, “There is no ignorance, there is only knowledge,” He called out as he watched her helplessly struggling to find a way out of the water, “There is no chaos, there is only harmony,” He called out right before she was dunked in the water again, spiraling dangerously close to the treatment zone that would kill her through drowning and chemicals, “There is no death, there is only the Force,” He said at last as he watched her come within a few feet of the drop off into the chemicals. She could cling to her principles and clutch at the doctrines for her last moments. She could clutch at the peace the Jedi taught her because that’s what Jedi did. It’s what Jedi were - after they had surrendered their own ideals. Because their new identity was Jedi. Nothing more. Nothing less.

At the last possible second, the girl was yanked by the Force abruptly from the water. She soared through the air with the Force coiled around her. She was gently eased down on the platform as slow footsteps walked towards her. No doubt she would be coughing and sputtering the water and sewage, but the tiefling was unfazed. He towered over her and stared down at her for a moment in silence.

“My name is Altair,” He said simply once again. It was to emphasize that his name was not Sith. It was Altair that had saved her from certain demise. It was not Sith. It was Altair that stayed his hand. It was not Sith. Because his name was Altair. Because he was Altair before he was Sith.

“You need to figure out what yours is.”

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

Panic had begun to set in. The Chalactan struggled to rise to the surface so she might gulp in every last breath of oxygen she could, but the water was too overpowering. Gushing into the cistern from at least four different drainage tunnels, she knew she wouldn't be able to fight against the current for much longer. She could pick out Altair's voice, and between waves could make out his form, standing above her on the platform. He was reciting the old Jedi Code, and if she'd hadn't been preoccupied fighting for her life, she might have stopped to wonder how he knew it or why he had ever bothered to learn it.

At first, she assumed that he was mocking her, gloating from the safety of the drainage tunnel while she thrashed below in the water. Samara realized that she must have looked pathetic, particularly to a Sith, who valued power and control more than anything else. She was nothing more than a pitiful, useless Padawan—who couldn't carry out her assignment, couldn't defeat a Sith that didn't even carry a lightsaber, and couldn't even save herself.

Samara needed him to save her, and every fiber of her being hated the sense of helplessness that accompanied that realization. She hated that she had ever considered, even for a moment, that he might. Of course he wouldn't—he was a Sith, and she was a stupid, naïve girl who'd allowed one small gesture to threaten the worldview she'd always held and known to be true, who was foolish enough and gullible enough to think that he would even contemplate saving her. Sith did not save Jedi, and a Jedi should never have to ask them to.

And yet, the Padawan could not save herself, and now she would pay for the mistakes she had made. Possibly the ultimate price. Samara was sucked under the surface of the water, and her last hope for survival was this—that the current might pull her down some alternate course, away from the treatment facilities that would most certainly kill her, and deposit her miles away from the city in a river, where she might wash up on the bank. Otherwise, the only mercy she could hope for was to fall unconscious, unaware of the water that filled her lungs.

The Chalactan's strength had already begun to fail her, and even the will to survive dwindled away with each passing second. After that, she quit struggling altogether. Somewhere in the back of her mind she understood that she was beginning to lose consciousness, that these were her last waking moments. After that, it would all be over. Her final thoughts were nothing like the glorified scenes she'd read in novels and watched on holotv—vivid flashbacks of her family and her friends, of her life dedicated to the Jedi Order. She found it was hard to form any coherent thought, much less play back a memory in detail.

Only four words came to mind: Death, yet the Force. She'd been taught and believed that death was just a part of living, and just the next step for the Jedi that followed the path of the light, that it was something to be embraced, not feared. But she didn't want to embrace death. She wanted to fight it. There was still so much she wanted to do, and so much of the galaxy she had yet to see for herself. She didn't want to be torn away from her family, to never walk the streets of her homeworld again. One day, perhaps, she would be ready to leave all of that behind, but not today.
She finally succumbed to the need for oxygen and took that first breath, that first step toward death. Water filled her stomach and lungs, and she drifted through the water, no longer a participant in her own demise but merely a spectator. Her fate was out of her hands now. Then her body was plucked violently from the water, and she wondered if she were already dead, until she rolled to a stop and felt solid ground beneath her.

Instantly, the Chalactan gasped for air, coughing and spewing water all over the floor. Her thoughts were scattered, and it was difficult to focus on anything other than the pain in her chest, but she was aware of Altair, standing over her, and she could hear his voice. The Tiefling had saved her. That violent pull she'd felt—it wasn't the Force leaving her body behind, but the Force wrapping around her and dragging her from the water, at the last possible moment. Something a Sith would never do, or so she'd thought.

A part of her, still terrified and defeated, wanted to lash out at him and say, "You couldn't have saved me sooner?" but even now, thoughts scattered, she knew that would be an admission that she expected the Sith to save her. That she trusted a Sith to save her. "I know what my name is," came her fumbled reply, voice hoarse and skin blue. Her lungs and stomach burned, as if someone had pried her throat open and poured hot lava down.

Samara felt absolutely miserable. Not just to her stomach, but down to her very core. She crawled to the edge of the platform, head ducking down as she began to throw up. Wet, straggly strands of hair hung over her face, but she was grateful for it, so at least this way they didn't have to look at each other just yet. Her mouth tasted awful, and she would have given anything for a glass of water or a bottle of mouth wash. She'd never felt so disgusting and worthless in her life.

Slumped over the side of the tunnel, shoulders shaking, she still didn't understand why he had saved her. All she knew was that she was grateful. Grateful... to a Sith. "Thank you," she found the strength to say eventually, her voice small, still unable to bring herself to look at him as she stared down into the churning waters below. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair stared at her in silence for a few moments, vaguely aware of just how terrible she smelled. He eyed her blankly as she defiantly stated she knew her name and he fought to shake his head. He was surprised by his own behavior, internally working through how he was projecting in many ways. He thought he was completely over his past, but he now took personal issues with those that preached about how they were Jedi. The tip of his tail flicked in agitation, but he calmed it down after a moment.

His expression softened when she thanked him, noting the way she trembled and the way her hair was matted to her face. She suddenly looked incredibly small and it made him wonder if she even had a choice in becoming a Jedi. Was it something she was thrust into since she could remember? Was that why she was Jedi first? He had an entire life before he ever joined the Sith, so he had depths to him that had nothing to do with Sith principles. Hell, this girl probably didn’t even have any hobbies outside of reciting Jedi texts or practicing lifting rocks with the Force all day.

He noticed she avoided looking at him - likely because she was ashamed to be thanking a Sith of all things. This time Altair actually did roll his eyes, “Don’t mention it, Shitty McTurdface,” He said after a long moment before he turned away and began walking towards the hole in the ceiling of the tunnel. The tiefling squinted up at the light and began to gather the Force around himself. He glanced over his shoulder.

“You can make the jump up on your own, right?” He asked with a grimace. He had absolutely zero desire to go anywhere near her to give her a boost up and he didn’t have enough energy left to both toss her up with the Force and then jump up himself.

@llamallove

 

[Samara Draven]

All Samara wanted to do was remain where she was, slumped over the side of the platform, press her eyes closed, and take a long, uninterrupted nap. Not even the sewage system's odor bothered anymore, not now when she was just relieved to be able to breathe at all. She was still trembling, her skin ice cold to the touch despite the burning in her lungs and stomach. Even now that minutes had passed, she still couldn't believe she was alive, that she would live to see another day.

"Of course I can," she lied, not at all sure that she would be able to. The Chalactan looked like something that had crawled up out of the darkest depths of the sewers—sopping wet, with who knows what stuck in her hair, her face a deathlike pallor. And that was just her looks. She smelled even worse. If only she could take a long, hot shower or throw herself into the nearest river she could find. She certainly couldn't help with the evacuation efforts now—people would probably just run away from her.
Using the wall to pull herself up, she staggered toward the gaping hole in the side of the tunnel. The sounds of the battle, furious and unrelenting, were louder now, no longer muffled by metal pipes and compact earth. Samara didn't dare look at Altair lest he steal her resolve with one doubtful look. Then, with only the strength of her obstinance and her sheer determination to prove to the Sith once and for all that she didn't need his help any more than was absolutely necessary, she sprung through the hole, using the Force to pull him up with her.

She skidded to a stop in the dirt, plopping down to catch her breath. She was practically heaving, but better to be out of breath than to have to swallow her pride again in front of the Sith. They were in a fresh crater, hollowed out by the bomb that had sent her flying back into the cistern, just outside of the city of Iziz's walls.

The sun had begun to set in the west, still visible beyond the jungle canopy. @Sreeya

 

[Altair Din]

Altair was beyond shocked to see her spring up and through the opening in the tunnel, watching her step up and bounce like a monkey. He was preparing to jump but felt the Force coil around him. Eyes widening, he felt himself get yanked up through the hole as well. He gripped the edges and hoisted himself up, taking in a deep breath of fresh air. The tiefling plopped down next to her for a moment to catch his breath as well, replaying the events of everything that happened. He looked back over his shoulder to spot that the entire senate building was reduced to ash. Had anyone even made it out? None of it mattered right then.

The battle raged on and he felt Raze’s presence clearly to suggest that the Sith hadn’t been defeated. Altair turned to look at the sorry mess that was the Jedi next to him. She was in no condition to continue fighting and neither was he. With no diplomat in sight, he couldn’t confirm whether or not his objective was complete. However, he had a feeling that mentioning the building itself collapsed would give him a hall pass. He pushed his own emotions aside, anchoring himself to the present instead of letting his mind run unchecked into his painful memories.

She still didn’t look at him, and he didn’t expect her to. After a few more seconds of silence, Altair rose up to stand with a grunt. He grabbed his helmet from his hip and looked over at her, “I was wrong earlier,” He said briefly, “You have a pretty decent butt.”

The tiefling gave her a wink if she looked his way before popping his helmet back on. He turned and walked off, flashing her a peace sign with his fingers as he strode off with his back turned to her. His tail swished from side to side as he left, disappearing into the thick smoke and fires pluming ahead and out of sight.

/exit

 

[Samara Draven]

Samara's heart skipped a beat when the Tiefling finally spoke up. Had he actually just admitted that he'd been wrong earlier? She could easily recall the condescending voice with which he'd recited the Jedi code, mocking its message despite the truth in each line. Had he been able to look past all of her failures today, all of her mistakes, and see the Jedi for what they actually were?

Not the ignoramuses that the media painted them out to be, but the peace keepers? The selfless protectors of an ungrateful galaxy. Always giving, and never taking anything in return. Had she managed to place even a small kernel of doubt in his mind, reservations about the Sith Empire that he would carry with him? Her face lit up at the idea, that her perseverance and determination could do all that, could outshine her mistakes.

She was about to ask, "About the Jedi?" when he, for reasons beyond her comprehension, felt it necessary to comment on her...posterior. The Chalactan was too shocked to even be embarrassed, and she just sat there, speechless as she stared at him. After a remark like that, she expected him to follow it up with some sort of explanation, or even an apology for saying that out of the blue, but he did neither. Instead. he just walked off.

Samara's moth hung open, violet eyes blinking rapidly, but the dazed expression remained. She wanted to pick up the nearest rock and chuck it at his head, but she didn't. She just let out a loud huff and fell back against the dirt, staring up at the sky and the starfighters racing overhead. She needed to get up, to regroup with the Jedi Knights she had accompanied.

One truth she was certain of: Sith were infuriating. @Sreeya /end of thread