“You’re all they have protecting this ship? This is pathetic.” A pirate or a rogue Sith? Nuro wasn’t sure, but the invader was quicker than he was, uninjured, and clearly well trained. Nuro’s every attack was easily blocked or sidestepped. The pirate’s companion hung back, watching what even Nuro realized would be an easy win. “We made the effort to catch you and board you. As quick as you were at the helm, I expected you to put up more of a fight!” He laughed.
A slash of Nuro’s blade was parried easily, and a Force push sent him careening into a bulkhead, reopening one of his wounds. Nuro groaned. He could feel a warm, wet sensation at his side as blood flowed from the gash again. He tried to use the pain, the anger, but the renewed blood loss had him reeling.
“That’s because he isn’t the pilot, he’s the passenger.” Ruane ambushed them from behind, his electrostaff whirling. A boot sent the observing pirate stumbling foward towards Nuro, and the Twi’lek stabbed with his lightsaber. The blade sank all the way through the pirate’s leg, and he cried out, dropping his blaster. Ruane ignored him, focusing on the other pirate who’d been attacking Nuro.
The pirate was no longer laughing. He rushed Ruane, a pair of red lightsabers flashing, with all the Force-imbued speed he could muster. Ruane countered with his electrostaff, quicker than Nuro would have given him credit for. In the cramped quarters of the Spectre’s passageways, the longer electrostaff was at a disadvantage, as Ruane had to worry about catching it on exposed wiring and piping above his head. The pirate began to push his advantage, and Ruane let him push him back, towards the greater space of the passenger compartment. Despite losing ground, Ruane never missed a parry of either of the pirate’s blades, and the Zabrak bared sharpened teeth at him. Though he wasn’t wearing the red armor of the Imperial Guard now that they were away from Yavin 4, the pirate began to sense something was off. His strikes grew more frenzied as he tried to push his way past this strangely adept Force-blind smuggler. None of his blows so much as brushed the leather jacket that Ruane was wearing.
A curse and a clatter announced the arrival of the other pirate, finally recovered enough from Nuro’s attack that he could limp towards the fight. He drew his lightsaber from his belt and swung at Ruane’s head. A split second later, the other pirate took advantage, stabbing towards Ruane’s stomach. The electrostaff whirled as Ruane brought it up to parry the blow to his head and used its momentum to turn aside the blow to his stomach. He said calmly, “Surrender now and you may leave with your lives.”
“Please. I don’t care how good you are, you can’t keep this up forever. We outnumber you.” The first pirate ignored Nuro completely. The Twi’lek slumped against a bulkhead, watching them but too weak to do much besides glare at them. “Surrender to Jemorro and we’ll only sell you into slavery.”
“I thought you looked familiar.” Ruane laughed softly then, making them pause. He pushed hard against their blades, making them stumble back, away from him. “Lord Jemorro, I would have thought, given what happened to your master when she opposed the Emperor, you’d be a better judge of your opponent.” Ruane raised his head enough so that they could see the orange of his eyes under the brim of the wide hat he was wearing.
The Zabrak swore vividly. “I thought all of you were dead.” He raised his lightsabers but didn’t move forward to attack. His sudden uncertainty had his partner looking in askance at him, but all the Zabrak could do was swear again. “You got lucky when you struck her down. If Darth Lathyrus been at her full power…”
Ruane cut him off. “She thought her power was greater than the Emperor’s and was proven wrong. I presented Darth Lathyrus’s head to Him once her little rebellion was crushed.”
The Zabrak’s partner looked between Ruane and Jemorro, confused. “What are you doing, Jem? Let’s kill him and get it over with.”
Jemorro looked down, eyes darting, thinking too hard. When he looked back at Ruane, it was with a feral snarl. “Whatever. The Emperor is dead now, and you will be soon!” He launched himself at Ruane, his partner following a split second later.
Ruane whirled, deceptively graceful. The razor-sharp edge of the Selkath electrostaff slipped through Jemorro’s defenses, impaling him through the gut. Ruane sidestepped the Zabrak’s companion as he twisted and shook the electrostaff, freeing it and ripping Jemorro’s wound open farther in the process. He brought the bloody staff up, staring at the other pirate now. “Last chance. You might still save him.”
The pirate looked between Jemorro and Ruane. He flicked the switch of his lightsaber, turning it off, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’re gone. None of us are getting paid for this.” He knelt and with a grunt, he picked the Zabrak up, making his way slowly and awkwardly back to the Spectre’s airlock.
Ruane watched them until he heard the airlock release, then he thumbed the switch of his electrostaff, turning it off, and set it against the bulkhead, then knelt beside Nuro, who was paler than usual from blood loss. He cursed when he saw the blood seeping through the Sith’s robes. “Seesix! Get Nuro to the medbay and start first aid. I’ll be in there in a moment.”
The protocol droid hurried forward. “Yes, master. If I might inquire, master, won’t the pirates just follow us and retake us? With the damage to our hyperdrive, it’s highly unlikely we’ll get very far.”
“No, and we need to move as fast as possible away from here. I don’t know what your former master was doing with detonite explosives in his smuggling compartments, but I planted several aboard their ship while Nuro was keeping them busy. They ought to make a decent hole.” Ruane hurried toward the cockpit as the droid helped Nuro to his feet. Just as fire started to bloom along the pirate ship’s starboard side, the freighter began to move away. A shock wave hit them, along with the clunk of debris, and Ruane turned them to watch as a section of the pirate ship’s hull broke apart.
The comm crackled to life, and Jemorro spoke, held up by two of his pirates and with a medical droid fussing over his stomach, but on his feet. “I’ll kill you for that, Guard. You may have won this round, but you can’t escape us! We’ll hunt you down and I’ll have your head!”
“Commander Phelan Ruane.” Ruane answered him mildly as he reached out for his electrostaff and began to clean off the blood with a cloth.
“What?” The Zabrak scowled. Then cursed at the medical droid. “Blast it, that hurts! Get away! Go! I’m not done yet!”
“As you so aptly stated, my Master is dead, and you deserve to know the name of the man who outsmarted you.” Ruane looked up at the Zabrak with a raised eyebrow. “That wasn’t the only detonite charge. Good day. Give my regards to the Maker.” Another shock wave shook the ship, this one much larger. It pushed them farther away from the pirate ship as debris hit them with loud metallic clunks. Ruane turned to look out the window of the cockpit and smiled to see the field of burning debris. One escape pod zoomed away from them. He scrambled for the turbolaser controls, but the pod was out of range before he could bring them online.
Ruane wrinkled his nose in distaste, then set his electrostaff aside and headed towards the medbay. “Seesix, start repairs on the hyperdrive. We need to be underway soon.” The droid hurried past him as he entered the medbay. Nuro sat on one of the beds with his robes off, showing the patchwork of broken and healing skin on his upper body. “One got away. We may see them again.”
“Good. Ah! That hurts!” Nuro hissed at him as Ruane pressed a medpack to the deepest gash. “I owe them one for this.”
“I daresay you’ll have your chance, but hopefully not while we’re on Coruscant. I think by this point, even I’m looking forward to normal dangers like Jedi and politicians.”
Nuro laughed, then groaned. “Ow. Laughing hurts, you bastard.”
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timeasmymeasure
Close Encounter
Date: 2019-11-18 11:47 pm (UTC)A slash of Nuro’s blade was parried easily, and a Force push sent him careening into a bulkhead, reopening one of his wounds. Nuro groaned. He could feel a warm, wet sensation at his side as blood flowed from the gash again. He tried to use the pain, the anger, but the renewed blood loss had him reeling.
“That’s because he isn’t the pilot, he’s the passenger.” Ruane ambushed them from behind, his electrostaff whirling. A boot sent the observing pirate stumbling foward towards Nuro, and the Twi’lek stabbed with his lightsaber. The blade sank all the way through the pirate’s leg, and he cried out, dropping his blaster. Ruane ignored him, focusing on the other pirate who’d been attacking Nuro.
The pirate was no longer laughing. He rushed Ruane, a pair of red lightsabers flashing, with all the Force-imbued speed he could muster. Ruane countered with his electrostaff, quicker than Nuro would have given him credit for. In the cramped quarters of the Spectre’s passageways, the longer electrostaff was at a disadvantage, as Ruane had to worry about catching it on exposed wiring and piping above his head. The pirate began to push his advantage, and Ruane let him push him back, towards the greater space of the passenger compartment. Despite losing ground, Ruane never missed a parry of either of the pirate’s blades, and the Zabrak bared sharpened teeth at him. Though he wasn’t wearing the red armor of the Imperial Guard now that they were away from Yavin 4, the pirate began to sense something was off. His strikes grew more frenzied as he tried to push his way past this strangely adept Force-blind smuggler. None of his blows so much as brushed the leather jacket that Ruane was wearing.
A curse and a clatter announced the arrival of the other pirate, finally recovered enough from Nuro’s attack that he could limp towards the fight. He drew his lightsaber from his belt and swung at Ruane’s head. A split second later, the other pirate took advantage, stabbing towards Ruane’s stomach. The electrostaff whirled as Ruane brought it up to parry the blow to his head and used its momentum to turn aside the blow to his stomach. He said calmly, “Surrender now and you may leave with your lives.”
“Please. I don’t care how good you are, you can’t keep this up forever. We outnumber you.” The first pirate ignored Nuro completely. The Twi’lek slumped against a bulkhead, watching them but too weak to do much besides glare at them. “Surrender to Jemorro and we’ll only sell you into slavery.”
“I thought you looked familiar.” Ruane laughed softly then, making them pause. He pushed hard against their blades, making them stumble back, away from him. “Lord Jemorro, I would have thought, given what happened to your master when she opposed the Emperor, you’d be a better judge of your opponent.” Ruane raised his head enough so that they could see the orange of his eyes under the brim of the wide hat he was wearing.
The Zabrak swore vividly. “I thought all of you were dead.” He raised his lightsabers but didn’t move forward to attack. His sudden uncertainty had his partner looking in askance at him, but all the Zabrak could do was swear again. “You got lucky when you struck her down. If Darth Lathyrus been at her full power…”
Ruane cut him off. “She thought her power was greater than the Emperor’s and was proven wrong. I presented Darth Lathyrus’s head to Him once her little rebellion was crushed.”
The Zabrak’s partner looked between Ruane and Jemorro, confused. “What are you doing, Jem? Let’s kill him and get it over with.”
Jemorro looked down, eyes darting, thinking too hard. When he looked back at Ruane, it was with a feral snarl. “Whatever. The Emperor is dead now, and you will be soon!” He launched himself at Ruane, his partner following a split second later.
Ruane whirled, deceptively graceful. The razor-sharp edge of the Selkath electrostaff slipped through Jemorro’s defenses, impaling him through the gut. Ruane sidestepped the Zabrak’s companion as he twisted and shook the electrostaff, freeing it and ripping Jemorro’s wound open farther in the process. He brought the bloody staff up, staring at the other pirate now. “Last chance. You might still save him.”
The pirate looked between Jemorro and Ruane. He flicked the switch of his lightsaber, turning it off, then nodded. “Yeah, okay. We’re gone. None of us are getting paid for this.” He knelt and with a grunt, he picked the Zabrak up, making his way slowly and awkwardly back to the Spectre’s airlock.
Ruane watched them until he heard the airlock release, then he thumbed the switch of his electrostaff, turning it off, and set it against the bulkhead, then knelt beside Nuro, who was paler than usual from blood loss. He cursed when he saw the blood seeping through the Sith’s robes. “Seesix! Get Nuro to the medbay and start first aid. I’ll be in there in a moment.”
The protocol droid hurried forward. “Yes, master. If I might inquire, master, won’t the pirates just follow us and retake us? With the damage to our hyperdrive, it’s highly unlikely we’ll get very far.”
“No, and we need to move as fast as possible away from here. I don’t know what your former master was doing with detonite explosives in his smuggling compartments, but I planted several aboard their ship while Nuro was keeping them busy. They ought to make a decent hole.” Ruane hurried toward the cockpit as the droid helped Nuro to his feet. Just as fire started to bloom along the pirate ship’s starboard side, the freighter began to move away. A shock wave hit them, along with the clunk of debris, and Ruane turned them to watch as a section of the pirate ship’s hull broke apart.
The comm crackled to life, and Jemorro spoke, held up by two of his pirates and with a medical droid fussing over his stomach, but on his feet. “I’ll kill you for that, Guard. You may have won this round, but you can’t escape us! We’ll hunt you down and I’ll have your head!”
“Commander Phelan Ruane.” Ruane answered him mildly as he reached out for his electrostaff and began to clean off the blood with a cloth.
“What?” The Zabrak scowled. Then cursed at the medical droid. “Blast it, that hurts! Get away! Go! I’m not done yet!”
“As you so aptly stated, my Master is dead, and you deserve to know the name of the man who outsmarted you.” Ruane looked up at the Zabrak with a raised eyebrow. “That wasn’t the only detonite charge. Good day. Give my regards to the Maker.” Another shock wave shook the ship, this one much larger. It pushed them farther away from the pirate ship as debris hit them with loud metallic clunks. Ruane turned to look out the window of the cockpit and smiled to see the field of burning debris. One escape pod zoomed away from them. He scrambled for the turbolaser controls, but the pod was out of range before he could bring them online.
Ruane wrinkled his nose in distaste, then set his electrostaff aside and headed towards the medbay. “Seesix, start repairs on the hyperdrive. We need to be underway soon.” The droid hurried past him as he entered the medbay. Nuro sat on one of the beds with his robes off, showing the patchwork of broken and healing skin on his upper body. “One got away. We may see them again.”
“Good. Ah! That hurts!” Nuro hissed at him as Ruane pressed a medpack to the deepest gash. “I owe them one for this.”
“I daresay you’ll have your chance, but hopefully not while we’re on Coruscant. I think by this point, even I’m looking forward to normal dangers like Jedi and politicians.”
Nuro laughed, then groaned. “Ow. Laughing hurts, you bastard.”