Litki watched in amazement as the human with the sword carved into one stormtrooper. Judging from the scarlet leaking from the other trooper on the floor, it wasn't just a lucky strike. Another human was firing her blaster, and a Twi'lek was helping them - that was bad, since it would give the station another reason to crack down on non-humans. Up on Litki's level on the catwalk is another human, this one holding a hostage and facing down the stormtroopers that had taken her credit chip. Her odds didn't look good, which was a shame; Litki didn't have any friends in this fight, but she had a personal distaste for those two troopers, and did one of them just get hit in the head with a floor brush?
Litki's eyes followed the path of the brush back to the maintenance cart, but there was nothing there. In calmer times, her mind would have rationalized the truth away - she'd have told herself the attacker had slipped away in the second she was looking elsewhere, or that it was some sort of robotic attack brush - but in the excitement of the moment she could only think of the truth: some invisible force had propelled that broom across the room.
No, not some force. The Force. Litki had read of it in data drives back on Tatooine: an ancient religion that unlocked every secret in the universe, or so its adherents claimed. Litki could believe repeatable, observable feats like lifting and moving objects; a living, thinking consciousness that guided the workings of all life in the galaxy seemed more far-fetched. Nonetheless, this human obviously had it, which meant she was...
Oh.
This was very bad.
The human was a Jedi, though obviously dressed differently than Litki had usually heard them described. The one with the sword probably was one too. The Twi'lek didn't even matter at this point - this station was about to explode. The Jedi had tried to kill the Emperor years ago and had been outlawed, and now they were here, doing something or other - Litki had no idea what motivated regicidal zealots - which meant the law was going to go into overdrive. The Empire would send more stormtroopers, Imperial Security, Imperial Intelligence - they'd probably declare martial law. And Litki's already desperate situation, already unpopular with the law, would suddenly get a hundred times worse - or it, and all of her situations, would end without denouement as she simply disappeared. She had to get off the station, now.
It also meant these insurgents had a good chance of defeating the stormtroopers that had taken her chip, which was even more bad. Right now, nothing connected her to these Jedi, but if these stormtroopers were killed, the only evidence investigators would find on their body would be Litki's credit chip. At that point, not even getting off station would save her - she'd have a target on her head anywhere in the Empire. But what the hell could she do about it?
She looked around, then up at the lights. Like all Jawa, she could see in the dark, but she knew humans generally couldn't. Maybe knocking out the lights would give either side time to slip away. At the very least, it would give Litki more control over the situation. Litki looked for the closest power relay and ran for it.
Move action: Move to power relay. Another move action: Withdrawing her tool kit from her utility belt.
"Ah! Umph!" The Jedi took the shot with a grunt, not allowing the hit to ruin her poise. Zorah winced as the shot scored her side, burning away robes to reveal the singed flesh beneath. The bolt had caught mostly cloth, but she would be meditating for hours later for certain. A quick touch showed that only minimal blood poured from the wound, having likely cauterized as it sheered through her body. She had been fortunate that the blast wasn't a few inches toward her center. A bolt to the chest would drop anyone, Jedi or not.
The time had definitely come for Zorah to make her move. She took a deep breath and summoned the will of the Force to guide her in her actions. She closed her eyes and raised her hand, letting her own Force find the sled. It was a lesson in patience every time, and her master had done his best to guide her in minding that patience. A few seconds passed before the box just above the bottom of the stack began to rise. With a steady focus, Zorah gestured upward with purpose, struggling against the tower of boxes. She flicked her wrist to the side, sending the box tumbling on its axis forward. Her eyes snapped forward and she quickly replaced her gesture with a pointed finger. "LOOK OUT!" She could only hope that others would steer clear of the mess. The Force had a penchant for sparing the unwitting, after all. She sprinted for cover behind the bar, deciding that now was a good time to inform her partner of how bad things looked out here. A bloody hand closed around a commlink that was only mildly singed by blaster bolt when the pocket it was in had been blown out.
"Hey, we've got a problem out here. I-Hssss!" The Jedi winced as she checked the wound again. Still bleeding, but also still manageable. "Sorry, I took a hit. You might want to get the wings ready. Looks like we'll have some company." She pressed herself against the wall, trying to keep cover from the fire on the walkway above. Maj would get them out of this. She just had to find a way to make a clean break for the hangar. The saber hidden in her belt sung to her very core, telling her to let it guide her to victory. The Force was a sweet siren, but she'd already given up possibly everything else today. Her identity as a Jedi needed to remain secret for the sake of their operation, as well as for Maj's safety and her own. For now, the song would go unanswered, leaving Zorah to battle with the rising shame of what she should be.
Ami’s Force-driven brush struck the stormtrooper just as his finger was closing on the trigger. He let out a cry of shock, and staggered under the blow; his rifle still went off, but the blast went wide, leaving Ami untouched. A moment later, the man behind her fired his weapon too, almost jumping in panic — and that shot, too, came nowhere near here. Ami’s hostage screamed as the wild blasts passed to either side of him.
Unfortunately, while the brush certainly looked like it hurt — and had probably dazed the trooper for a moment — it wasn’t enough to take him down. Once he’d recovered, he looked angrily over his shoulder in search of whoever had thrown it. His gaze fell on the Jawa hurrying over to the nearest power relay.
I’m applying a -2 penalty to the trooper’s attack after being caught off-guard like that. He and the informant take their readied actions to shoot at Ami and get a 9 and a 5, respectively. This moves their Initiative count to be just before Ami.
Zorah was rewarded by a panicked shout from the last stormtrooper on the ground as she brought down the stack of boxes, and as she ducked into cover herself, she saw him scrambling to get out of the way. One of the crates burst open as it hit the ground, spilling shiny new datapads and electronic components out across the Promenade. From her cover, Monisa saw the trooper hunker down behind one of the freshly overturned crates, partially blocking her shots, and fetch something from his belt. She couldn’t quite make out what.
The trooper shifted targets as the young Jedi ducked into cover, bringing his weapon to bear instead on the group of three a little further down the Promenade. He flicked a switch on the side of his weapon before opening fire, unleashing an absolute hail of crimson fire on the walls of the stall behind which they were hiding. The stall somehow — barely — held up under the assault, but one or two of the blasts burned straight through, leaving a considerable hole in their wake. It wouldn’t take much more of a beating.
The trooper on the catwalk uses a Swift action to activate Autofire, then attacks Monisa, Ada, and the dark-haired woman. Only gets an 8, though, so nobody is hurt.
The dark-haired woman inhaled sharply as the blaster fire splattered nearby. “W-we can’t stay pinned here like this,” she muttered, and then her fingers closed around Monisa’s wrist, tugging to get the young woman’s attention. “You should go!” She called out louder, urgently, the fear in her voice now shifting subtly — perhaps no longer just for herself. “Find Switch; Bay V14. Tell him… tell him you’re looking for the senator’s cargo. He’ll know what you mean.”
She let out a pained moan, and her fingers slipped from Monisa’s wrist to press against the hand over her injury once more. Her face was pale, and her breath shallow; the effort to talk was clearly costing her. “You have to get them to Alderaan, understand? The senator… he’ll pay…”
—
Back down in the cantina, Tenda Feek inclined his head as first a large crash echoed from outside, and then Maj’s commlink crackled to life. The sounds of life in the cantina were beginning to die down as the battle outside grew louder. Conversation had given way to hushed murmuring, with many of the cantina’s inhabitants — including the proprietor, Gundark — looking nervously towards the door.
“That really sounds bad,” the Chadra-Fan muttered darkly, his grin slipping.
OOC: Updated Initiative order is:
Zorah - 23
Monisa - 22
Maj - 19-A
Stormtroopers (x2) - 19-B
Ada - 16
Litki - 14
Imperial Informants (x2) - 11
Stormtrooper (x1) and Informant (x1) - 3-A
Ami - 3-B
Carbine fire patters around the area, and now Ada is getting a bit peeved.
Well, fuck.
This was a big problem. That guy was in full stormtrooper outfit. No plausible deniability with that guy. Maybe he was trying to get the sep agent, or the injured woman. But either way – especially given the disintegrating cover, Ada was definitely in the wrong spot.
Unfortunately, there wasn't a lot she could do to help the injured woman, not with a bogey flanking them on one side and another in a friggin' elevated position. No, one of those two threats needed to go away. Both, really, but that wasn't exactly achievable right now.
"Get her to the damn exit!" Ada's voice is firm and tinged with annoyance. The stranger seemed to be suggesting she was a senatorial agent. Ada had been planning to stun the sep and evac the woman once Captain Blasto over in the corner was dealt with, but now this new threat had emerged, the stall was disintegrating, and there wasn't time.
OK, new plan. Step 1) Stun the moron. Step 2) Ada can't both shoot and carry people, so the sep agent would just have to evac the injured woman. Step 3) Tail Monisa and the woman to make sure the seps didn't get the cargo that was mentioned.
That could work.
Ada flings herself to her feet and darts across the Promenade, seeking a space where she has cover (and preferably Total Cover) from the threat above, while also being able to follow Monisa out the exit.
Get some better cover! And where she can keep an eye on Monisa's retreat.
Fortunately, she was trained for this sort of situation. Those shot-on-the-run drills were about to come in handy. Just moving around isn't going to stop her from shooting at Captain Blasto, the minute her angle outflanks his cover and she has a clear shot.
Use Running Attack feat: When making an attack with a melee or ranged weapon, you can move both before and after the attack, provided that the total distance moved is not greater than your Speed.
Target the informant who shot her earlier.
Fire on the run once her angle deletes the enemy's cover. Stun setting is still on.
Maj nodded in confirmation. It was indeed a whole crate of heavy blasters. They weren't the highest quality, but they did work and carried significant value. After listening to the details of the exchange, Maj nodded, having expected something similar. He pulled out a data disc that had the location and security info on it. "The pass phrase is Esyuu wish."
Before he could get up, his commlink went off with Zorah's voice. Getting the wings ready was probably a good idea, but he didn't know if it was an option. After all, leaving the information here after an incident could mean forfeiting it entirely. The best bet was to see it through here, he figured, though he didn't know how bad it was. "Yes, it does," he agreed, leaving the table immediately and making his way out of the cantina.
Ada’s shot was on-target, and she was rewarded with a grunt of pain from the doorway for her efforts, but it apparently wasn’t enough to bring the man down; a moment after she passed by, the man grit his teeth and leaned out to return fire, a red blaster bolt zipping past the Twi’lek’s back.
The stun attack comes in just under the informant’s damage threshold, so he doesn’t move down a condition. He returns fire, but only gets an 11.
Up on the catwalk, Ami’s hostage — perhaps spurred to action by the gunfire around him — suddenly grabbed at her hand in an attempt to pull the knife from his throat! His fingers wrapped tightly around her wrist and for the moment the pair struggled over the weapon, the surprise of his sudden movement and his larger overall size lending him an initial advantage and allowing him to draw the blade a few inches back; but Ami was stronger than she looked, her grip harder to break than he expected…
“Blast her, Skig!” He shouted in a panic as the blade started to slowly edge closer to his throat again. His friend obliged, firing again behind Ami’s back — and again hitting nothing, perhaps because he was trying hard to avoid shooting his friend in the sudden struggle, perhaps just because he was a terrible shot.
Ami’s hostage attempts to Disarm her and gets a fairly respectable 21, but that’s still short of the 23 he needed to succeed. Ami can make a free attack against him with her knife if she wishes.
His friend shoots at her again, and gets a total of 0 with the firing-into-melee penalty.
The nearby stormtrooper, meanwhile, had turned his attention from their struggle entirely. He was now focused solely on Litki, the person he assumed was responsible for the hurled brush.
“Big mistake, rat! You should have stayed where we told you!” He shouted furiously across the catwalk; her only warning as he raised his rifle and blasted her in the back.
The stormtrooper near Ami attacks Litki. 17 to hit, 11 damage.
Ami kept her fierce determination as the man tried to pull her knife away from his throat. But when the cloaked figure took a shot guilt and anger overcame her. These men were autofiring at bistanders, so she tried to stop them. They had shot another bystander... Why? Because she'd tried to reason with them? No. She'd lacked the conviction to follow through on her actions!
Cold tears in her eyes for the hooded alien, Ami snarked and slammed her knife home!
Litki glanced over her shoulder at the shout, seeing the stormtrooper level his blaster at her. It is a testament to Litki's underdeveloped empathy that she does not even consider the trooper could have thought she had thrown the brush; she had seen it fly through the air with no apparent cause, so she had simply assumed everyone else would realize the same thing. As the trooper's finger squeezed the blaster's trigger, all she could think was:
He's not shooting at me, is he?
Litki screamed as the blaster bolt impacted with her shoulder. The smells of petrichor and chlorine mixed with that of burning robes and flesh. She pitched forward, stumbling, one foot desperately looking for a place in front of the other until she slammed blindly into the side of the power relay. Her injured shoulder flared white-hot with pain as that hand clutched its side, but the hand stayed locked in place, only its death grip keeping her from falling to the floor. If she fell, her body knew even as her mind reeled, she wouldn't have the strength or will to get back up. Her other hand groped at the side of the relay, unaware in its panic that it was banging the metal with the tool kit still gripped in a clenched fist.
The little alien's scream cut Ami to the quick. Wiht a furious snarl she dropped the unconscious and possibly dead imperial to the floor. The hand that had been holding him went behind her back and up underneath her shirt. It came back out with a disk and handle. twisting the handle, three razor sharp blades fanned out.
"Bastard!" Ami twisted clear around and spun the blade through the air at the storm trooper.
Ami hoped the disk would trail crimson as it flew into and past the storm trooper...
And now...
The part that would truly get all eyes on her...
Ami reached out with the force to call her diskblade back...
Emerging from the cantina, Maj could quickly see this was not a good situation. Other than Zorah and the injured woman he'd seen walking out earlier, he didn't know the rest, but he could see that there were imperials both on the ground and the catwalk above. The only good news was that seemingly other individuals had their own issues they were disputing with them. He figured that if he could at least help clear the ones on the ground, they'd have some options as to what to do. He aimed at the stormtrooper, trusting his blaster to punch through any armor.
Maj and Monisa’s blasts were both on point, the botanist finally finding her target past his cover moments before the Cerean’s heavy blaster rung out and took down the man firing at Ada’s back from across the Promenade. Up above, Ami found equal success; her blade carving the desired crimson arc through the air as it flew back towards her, the stormtrooper groping blindly at the back of his neck as he fell. Behind her, the last of her opponents took a few nervous steps backwards, shaking in shock at the sudden flurry of violence he’d just witnessed.
“J-jedi…” he stammered, before suddenly finding his voice through the fear. “She’s a Jedi!”
“Jedi?” The last stormtrooper echoed, the continual blasts of his rifle letting up for a moment as he glanced back over his shoulder in surprise.
OOC: As discussed on Discord, Monisa’s shot brings down the stormtrooper on the ground, so Maj fires at the informant on the ground, instead.
Still Zorah’s turn to go.
Zorah's gut sank as she heard the word Jedi cut across the promenade. She was certain that she hadn't been too obvious with her powers. A hand went to the hilt hidden in her belt. It was still concealed, so nobody should have seen it. It didn't matter now, though. She was officially associated with a Jedi in some way. That meant that the info was still possible, but it would be useless. The moment a civilian reported Jedi activity, this whole system would be locked down tight. A spike of pain from her wound managed to force a wince out of her, but she took a deep breath and centered herself. It was in these moments, when you were hurt and the world was in chaos, that it was important to trust in the Force. It had placed a blade in her hand to be a wall between the innocent and those who would bring them harm. Zorah didn't need to search her feelings to know the truth.
A flick of her wrist released the hilt from where it was stowed under her belt. It was under a false pouch which pulled away with relative ease. Her short sword clattered to the ground; a sound that evoked the rattling of a chain Zorah had just managed to shrug off. The hilt of her saber was heavier, but it felt better. The crystal sung to her soul in a way that she could hear if she stopped to listen. Pushing free from the wall, Zorah held her hilt in a ceremonial guard. Her grip tightened, and the blade crackled to life, bathing her in a cerulean glow. She looked over to see Maj, his pet blaster in hand. The sight of the Cerean captain made her smile in spite of herself. "You know you've been itching to do that since you bought that thing."
Zorah focused on the moment, not having the time to spare for more jabs at her partner in crime. "I am one with the Force and the Force is with me." She put her faith in the Force and the ones who worked its will in the galaxy. A rush of energy filled her limbs as she made a running leap, letting the Force carry her through the air. Even if she missed the railing, she could grab the wall and scale that. There was no obstacle too great for a Jedi to surmount. The blade traced an azure line across the Promenade as she leapt. She almost cleared the railing, planting one hand on the bar and swinging over, before sending her blade slashing down into the trooper who she had landed next to. Zorah shot a curious look at Ami, who was clearly a member of some sort of Force wielding tradition. There would be time to sort that out later. Her attention turned to the violence once more. They only had so long before the imps' backup arrived.
Distracted as he was searching for the Jedi behind him, the last stormtrooper never saw the Jedi approaching from below. Her saber sliced straight through his armor, and the force of the blow sent him tumbling back over the rail to slam hard against the Promenade floor below. He didn’t get back up.
Which left just one.
The last of the Imperials looked from Ami to Zorah, from the blood dripping from the Wanderer’s weapon to the blue blade illuminating the Jedi’s face. There was a look of pure terror on his face, and it only took him a moment to make a decision.
The man dropped his blaster and turned to run.
OOC: Ada and Litki go before him, though, so either of you would like to interfere, you can! If not, anyone who wants to can give chase or fire at him; anyone who isn't trying to stop him can drop out of combat and post at will.
As the informant goes down with a cry, Ada hesitates. Did they just ... did they just *kill* the guy? Those sure didn't look like stun blasts to her.
Damn it. Sorry, kid. Glancing around, the group of seps was killing people all over. There were several of them working together, well beyond Ada's ability to stop. So she does the only reasonable thing left.
Moving towards the injured woman, she helps her up, "We've got to get you out of here before they capture you. Find you a place to rest up. Can you walk?" Supporting the casualty, she makes her way for the Promenade exit, hopefully both the imps and seps were too busy killing each other to follow them.
Her eyes, as wide and bright as they had ever been, stared at the stormtrooper from under her hood. Did he care about the pain he'd given her? All she saw was that sneering helmet. He didn't care. She was just a rodent, vermin to be wiped out. A dirty inconvenience. A Jawa.
What happened next, happened very quick. The Jedi, or presumed Jedi, threw a metallic blade at the stormtrooper, then janked it back with the Force. The stormtrooper went down with the blade in his neck. Just after, another Jedi - this one undeniable now, wielding one of the blue swords of light she'd read about - leapt up onto the catwalk and cut down the other stormtrooper, sending him over the railing to the ground.
Just like that, the fight was over. The stormtroopers were gone, and the last one with a blaster - whoever he was - was running. Her limbs felt like lead. She wanted to slump to the floor, nurse her wound, and cry. But she couldn't.
Move, Litki! her mind screamed. You can't stop now! Turn out the lights and run!
It hurts! Her body protested. It hurts too much to move!
People saw you! You were part of the fight! More will come, and they won't care what happened! When they find you, they'll kill you! Move, Litki, or you're going to die!
With an agonized wail, she pulled herself up against the power relay. The pain in her shoulder was incredible, but desperate willpower borne of mortal fear pushed her through it. With her tools in hand, she opened up the power relay and disabled the local lighting system.
The injured woman was pale-faced and shaking, but she was still (barely) conscious. With Ada and Monisa’s assistance she was able to get back to her feet, though she couldn’t stand without leaning on the Twi’lek heavily for support. Despite this, she gave Ada a weak nod.
“Barely.” She sounded exhausted and out of breath, the simple act of getting to her feet having taken most of the energy they had left. Still, she managed to hobble weakly towards the exit, her arm around her rescuer’s shoulders. “Delgas Medical… two floors down. The doctor there owes me a favor. We can trust her.”
With a loud clunk and a mechanical whirring sound, Litki’s efforts overhead paid off. The Promenade was plunged largely into darkness, with only the occasional dim sign and the distant stars in the overhead windows providing illumination for the three women on the ground. The fleeing Imperial’s footsteps echoed strangely, the sudden darkness and relative quiet providing an eerie contrast to the frenzied battle taking place moments before. Ada felt the wounded woman wince by her side, then felt her hesitate for a moment as she tried to glance backwards at the battlefield they’d just left behind.
“Was… was there really a Jedi back there?”
It sounded like she didn’t believe it — but that she wanted to.
The injured woman was pale-faced and shaking, but she was still (barely) conscious. With Ada and Monisa’s assistance she was able to get back to her feet, though she couldn’t stand without leaning on the Twi’lek heavily for support. Despite this, she gave Ada a weak nod.
“Barely.” She sounded exhausted and out of breath, the simple act of getting to her feet having taken most of the energy they had left. Still, she managed to hobble weakly towards the exit, her arm around her rescuer’s shoulders. “Delgas Medical… two floors down. The doctor there owes me a favor. We can trust her.”
With a loud clunk and a mechanical whirring sound, Litki’s efforts overhead paid off. The Promenade was plunged largely into darkness, with only the occasional dim sign and the distant stars in the overhead windows providing illumination for the three women on the ground. The fleeing Imperial’s footsteps echoed strangely, the sudden darkness and relative quiet providing an eerie contrast to the frenzied battle taking place moments before. Ada felt the wounded woman wince by her side, then felt her hesitate for a moment as she tried to glance backwards at the battlefield they’d just left behind.
“Was… was there really a Jedi back there?”
It sounded like she didn’t believe it — but that she wanted to.
Monisa hands were shaking a bit as she put her blaster away and helped the women stand. " Okay, Um I think I missed that I was a bit focused on other matters. but lets get you to that doctor."
Face to face with a person out of legends, hardbodied redhead's brown eyes widened. Her blade orbited her wrist once, flicking off the blood without spraying either of them. Then she caught it. "So that's a lightsaber," she said in a surprisingly relaxed tone. She flicked the blade shut then tucked it up behind her barely concealing t-shirt.
"My name's Ami. Thank you for your help. Was it you they were shooting at?"
She looked around, frowning. Her eyes found the hooded figure a moment before the lights went out, leaving them lit only by the lgihtsaber. "The storm trooper shot that little person over there. I have to help them."
"Hey, she called, "are you injured? I'm Ami, let me help you."
Litki's pushed herself off the power relay. She wanted to slump against it and gather her strength, but she knew that if she stopped to rest, she would be too tempted to stay there. The darkness was no obstacle for her eyes, and she crossed the room to the stormtrooper's body, rooting through the belt pouch she'd seen for her credit chip. She just hoped this one was the one that took it, and not the one that went over the railing. As she moved, she tried to consider her options.
I have to get off the station. That much was obvious, but how? She'd already spent weeks trying to get a job with no success, and she's radioactive now. News of the attack would spread through the station within an hour and no one would touch a wounded Jawa stinking - literally - of desperation. Could she stow away on a ship? She was small and sneaky and knew her way around a ship's bowels, but she still had to eat and sleep. But what else could she do?
Her head snapped up at the Jedi's voice. Help? The Jedi had betrayed the Senate! She couldn't trust them. The enemy of her enemy was not necessarily her friend. To them, she was just another witness.
<<I don't want trouble,>> she said, raising her hands and backing up. <<I'll keep your secret!>>
Why would they care what she said? It would be easier and safer just to kill her. They probably couldn't even understand what she was saying. What were the chances anyone spoke Jawa Trade out here?
Zorah knew him well, and she was right that he had been waiting to use it. It certainly hadn't disappointed either, firing a powerful blast at the imperial. It was only after the shot landed that he realized he hadn't set to stun. He didn't have long to think about it, though, as almost immediately after, Zorah brought out the lightsaber and it became his own life he was more worried about.
He looked around, seeing not just Zorah, but a lot of individuals he didn't recognize standing around, except for a Jawa up above on the catwalk with its hands up and backing away. Maj climbed up to the catwalk and pointed to it, addressing the other strangers. "Was this one part of them?"
Zorah had been caught up in the moment, allowing the Force to guide her actions. During the fight, her focus had been entirely on minimizing the damage that the troopers could cause. Though she had swung first, she had only done so to protect the citizens that could have been harmed by the Empire's goons. She was certain Maj would understand the situation.
The saber's hum ceased with a crackle as the cerulean blade vanished. The saber felt right to her. Holding it was a comfort she had pushed away for months now. Zorah traced the hilt in her gloved hands with her eyes. It had been passed to her as it had her late master in much the same fashion. The Force had flowed through that kyber crystal for three generations of Jedi, and she was proud to carry it now.
When she heard the other 'Jedi' speak, it pulled her out of the trance she'd been in. "Hey! I'm Zorah, and not initially, no." She motioned to the injured woman below them. "She was. Probably some sort of spy for whatever's left of the old Republic." A quick glance over the rail showed the group poorly illuminated by the station's emergency lights. "I hope she'll be alright. I should get down there and check on her." She paused before turning to the railing. "You and I need to have a chat later, though. About that ring."
Zorah turned to Maj, eyes bright from her dose of excitement. "Not as far as I can tell." Instinct told the young Jedi that the Jawa was just caught up in the fray. "Ask them yourself." With a cautious glance at the ring thrower, she climbed over the rail and slid down a strut, coming to rest gracefully near the Cerean captain. She motioned over her shoulder with her right hand, waving the other jedi down to them. "Things could have gone smoother." Her gaze fell on the wounded woman, then to her own blaster wound on her waist. It would likely leave a scar, but Jedi healed quickly. Turning to Ada, she gave the Twi'lek a thankful nod. "We should get her to a doctor. Here, or off station. Like it or not, we're in this together now. The Empire doesn't take chances with insurgents. Especially Jedi."
"That guy's a bystananer," the redhead spoke up. If it weren't so dark, shame would be clear in her posture. "I tried to stop those imperials from firing into the crowd. I made a distraction and the distraction got blamed on them. I'd like to take them to a doctor, do you know one?"
Ada glances back over her shoulder as the injured woman mentions Jedi.
"Seems unlikely." After all, she was under the catwalk and didn't really see that part of things. The problem with helping wounded people move is that they were slow, and with the battle otherwise ended, Ada soon found herself surrounded – or at least flanked – by several of the agitators. She sucks in a breath, but what can she do? Fight them all off? Would the injured woman survive any such exchange?
One way or another, she had to get the stranger to this Delgas Medical. And that wouldn't happen if Ada provoked another fight right now.
Lekku furrow, tips curling inward for a moment as one of the more aggressive strangers implies they're Jedi. Yet another mention. Ada had her doubts, and for good reason. But she was also more straightforward than others of her race … and more blunt. So she just comes out and says it.
"Doesn't seem a very Jedi thing to do. Killing as a first resort. They were just doing their jobs."
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Ami Shatterstar
