It seemed as if the planet itself shuddered. Outside, the creaks of protesting machinery resounded, masking any sound of approaching hostiles. The woman did not stop to wait for them. Instead, she dutifully followed Corran deeper into… whatever they had found. The entrance from the control room slid closed, sealing them into the ancient construction.
Even under her helmet, the air was damp, but not stuffy. Bast flicked on her low light cycle, and the tunnel immediately lept to life in a dozen shades of green. Variegated patterns of minerals and erosion streaked the walls. Wires long-dead supported trailing vines. If Bast had not been in such a hurry, she would have plucked some of the flora to give to the Coruscant Botanical Institute. It had likely been centuries since these tunnels were last set foot in, the pipes had rusted apart and the electrical panels corroded, yet the plants, a variety of fungus, and moss, and creeping vines, thrived. It was beautiful.
Dull thrumming came from ahead, becoming almost deafening. The Corellian was too tired to be on guard. All adrenaline had gone and been replaced with a bone-deep ache. Even her voice felt hoarse. Therefore, she paid no heed to Corran’s evident excitement of what lay ahead. Nevertheless, his relaxed, excited hurry to the end of the hall did cause her to raise her eyebrows and smirk. If that kid still had his reckless enthusiasm, it might be alright after all.
Not that he was much of a kid, being only a few years younger than her. Bast looked to the walls again. Like the stone, She had been worn down by the constancy and consequences of her work. The grooves etched into her told a story and exposed some part of her that had not been visible when she was a rookie. The lives she had chased to find fulfillment and worthiness had proved just phases, thin layers covering her true nature.
An enthusiastic call of “Water!” recaptured her attention. Intrigued, the Lieutenant jogged forward to join her partner. Ahead lay a deep pool of water, fed by a bountiful stream falling from a viaduct. While the waterfall was man-made, likely from a ruptured pipe, the pool was carved out naturally. A small ecosystem surrounded it. A moment passed before she was able to say anything. “I can hardly believe it, to be honest,” she scarcely whispered. Once again, the depths of Nar Shaddaa had a mind of their own. The path to the Sith base began closing, ushering the pair into the atrium-like space. Taking her partner’s hand for balance briefly, the Corellian descended. No Sith could get in now. They were finally safe.
Bast removed her helmet. Carefully, out of a newfound reverence of the place, she scooped up a handful of water. It splashed over her face with a cool relief, washing away regrets and dried tears. Again, she dipped her hands in the pool. Perhaps it was the death of a close friend, or the innate, survival-based desire to move forward, but it felt like she had left the Outpost, the dead ship adrift, her fear and love and hate behind in the control room. She had made mistakes, some large and some small, all that had a weight. A weight now dissolving in the oasis, leaving peace. A peace with rough and unfinished edges maybe, but peace nonetheless.
@TerranSteel
@Mr. Teatime
Even under her helmet, the air was damp, but not stuffy. Bast flicked on her low light cycle, and the tunnel immediately lept to life in a dozen shades of green. Variegated patterns of minerals and erosion streaked the walls. Wires long-dead supported trailing vines. If Bast had not been in such a hurry, she would have plucked some of the flora to give to the Coruscant Botanical Institute. It had likely been centuries since these tunnels were last set foot in, the pipes had rusted apart and the electrical panels corroded, yet the plants, a variety of fungus, and moss, and creeping vines, thrived. It was beautiful.
Dull thrumming came from ahead, becoming almost deafening. The Corellian was too tired to be on guard. All adrenaline had gone and been replaced with a bone-deep ache. Even her voice felt hoarse. Therefore, she paid no heed to Corran’s evident excitement of what lay ahead. Nevertheless, his relaxed, excited hurry to the end of the hall did cause her to raise her eyebrows and smirk. If that kid still had his reckless enthusiasm, it might be alright after all.
Not that he was much of a kid, being only a few years younger than her. Bast looked to the walls again. Like the stone, She had been worn down by the constancy and consequences of her work. The grooves etched into her told a story and exposed some part of her that had not been visible when she was a rookie. The lives she had chased to find fulfillment and worthiness had proved just phases, thin layers covering her true nature.
An enthusiastic call of “Water!” recaptured her attention. Intrigued, the Lieutenant jogged forward to join her partner. Ahead lay a deep pool of water, fed by a bountiful stream falling from a viaduct. While the waterfall was man-made, likely from a ruptured pipe, the pool was carved out naturally. A small ecosystem surrounded it. A moment passed before she was able to say anything. “I can hardly believe it, to be honest,” she scarcely whispered. Once again, the depths of Nar Shaddaa had a mind of their own. The path to the Sith base began closing, ushering the pair into the atrium-like space. Taking her partner’s hand for balance briefly, the Corellian descended. No Sith could get in now. They were finally safe.
Bast removed her helmet. Carefully, out of a newfound reverence of the place, she scooped up a handful of water. It splashed over her face with a cool relief, washing away regrets and dried tears. Again, she dipped her hands in the pool. Perhaps it was the death of a close friend, or the innate, survival-based desire to move forward, but it felt like she had left the Outpost, the dead ship adrift, her fear and love and hate behind in the control room. She had made mistakes, some large and some small, all that had a weight. A weight now dissolving in the oasis, leaving peace. A peace with rough and unfinished edges maybe, but peace nonetheless.
@TerranSteel
@Mr. Teatime