Disclaimer- God, I wish I owned Star Wars. I would die happy if I did. However, that honor now belongs to Mickey Mouse.
The rumbling echo of creaking metal and the violent shaking of impact rings throughout the wreckage of Outbound Flight. Everything is pitch dark. The stench of dirt, blood and grease permeate the air, making breathing difficult. After what seems like a lifetime, the crushing pressure and heat finally subsides, leaving only the buzzing silence to ring throughout the ruined remains. The ship is so badly damaged, not even the red emergency lights have the energy to flicker anymore.
"Ugh…." A masculine voice groans in the darkness. The sound of a body shuffling and the creaking of glass and mechanical debris fill the now ringing silence of the wrecked ship. "I can't believe we survived that…" The debris cracks under his feet as the owner of the voice stumbles to an upright position. A loud hiss of pain escapes his lips as he leans against a pile of what, was probably once the main flight controls but now, is nothing more than a heap of metal and wires. His hands survey the bruising on his body, but in the complete darkness it is difficult to see his fingers in front of his face, let alone any wounds he pertained in the crash. Turning his attention from his own aches and bruises he strains to see his companion in the utter darkness. "Jedi Jinzler?" The only response to his question is the buzzing silence of the after-crash. "Jedi Jinzler!" Panic starts to set in as the cold terror that he might be buried alive with only the darkness for company fills his veins. He stumbles blindly to where he last saw his companion before the harsh impact distorted everything.
"I'm here, ehhhh I'm ugh… fine…." A female voice answers him from somewhere to his left. Her tone is filled with pain and weariness despite her valiant attempts to state otherwise. The man can hear her slowly stumble to her feet with a sharp hiss of pain and then the crunching of rubble as she makes her way towards him. "How…uh… are you holding….ah up, Thrass?" She grinds out as she continues to stride in his general area, using his glowing red eyes as a makeshift beacon. Thrass, feels a huge weight lift off his chest at the revelation that his companion is okay.
"I…ugh….am well." He replies as moves towards her, her form a darker black against the sea of darkness that pervades the wrecked ship. The combination of Thrass' glowing red eyes and Lorana's command of the Force helps the young Jedi to quickly find her way towards the Chiss, despite the rubble and her own injuries. Instinctively, Thrass grasps hold of her hand as they finally catch up with each other. Their hands are clammy with sweat, blood, and grim. Nonetheless, the physical contact helps to comfort both parties from the primal fear of the dark and the pinpricks of claustrophobia that dances at the edge of their consciousness.
In the complete darkness of the wrecked spaceship it is impossible to see if there is a chance to escape to the other portions of the ship or if this deck is now their tomb. Lorana must have had the same thought cross her mind for not a second later she unclips her lightsaber from her belt. The sudden snap-hiss of her blade igniting echoes all around them and the green light fills the otherwise deserted room. The two stand in the center of the chaos, the swirling darkness kept at bay only by the green light of Lorana's lightsaber. Dust and debris float listlessly all around the room, undaunted by gravity or the turbulent crash from moments ago. Shadows flicker into monstrous, ghost-like forms that seem to glare accusingly at intrusion of Lorana's lightsaber and give the entire room a haunting ambience.
The room is cluttered with various sorts of wreckage. Wires dangle uselessly from the ceiling, the ship's controls are a damaged beyond repair, and large portions of durasteel from the walls have completely caved in. The newly formed wall openings and the hallways are just as dark, if not darker, than the room where Thrass and Lorana stand. Turning his still sensitive eyes from the destruction, the Chiss surveys the damage of his own body. His skin is a wan blue, marked with a multitude of scratches and cuts. His uniform is in no better condition, as it not only caked with dust and debris but also torn in various places and completely askew. He tries to straighten it, then after a moment, shakes his head at the futility of the action. After blinking a few times and willing the still shifting spots to leave his vision he turns his attention back towards his Jedi companion.
"Sorry." She says with a sheepish smile, that doesn't quite reach her eyes. The amethyst aura highlights the young woman's tired frame and gives her a haunting, almost other worldly appearance. Her own attire is in a similar state to his, marked with nicks and cuts and some of the brown fabric is stained maroon from her injuries. Despite her injuries, however, her gray eyes are glancing frantically at the shadowed exits and it is all she can do to stay in place. "I thought we could use more light…." Thrass nods his agreement.
"Yes, it is most helpful." He states as he leans against a slab of displaced durasteel. Once settled, he quickly rips off the sleeve of his uniform into long strips. Once the entire right sleeve is gone, he does the same with his left and motions for Lorana to do the same.
"What are you doing? We need to find the survivors." Lorana asks as she too leans against the large piece of rubble. She moves her lightsaber closer to the Chiss so that the green light can better illuminate his actions, her fingers drumming loudly on the silver hilt.
"It will probably be best if we dress our wounds before infection sets in."
"Yes, but…" The young woman starts, and then subsequently stops in favor for a more direct explanation. She shrugs her shoulders as she places her free hand upon Thrass' forehead. The Chiss quickly halts in his bandage-making task, his red, glowing eyes widening in surprise at the unexpected contact. Ignoring his sudden tension and her own injuries, Lorana closes her eyes and quickly takes hold of the Force and wills it to heal her companion. It is hard. Her entire body shakes with the exertion. After such excessive use of the Force to pilot Outbound Flight to safety, her control over the Force is tenuous at best. She also never truly was able to mastered healing like some of the more accomplished Masters and her own Force powers pale in comparison to Master C'baoth. At the thought of her former master the young Jedi quickly tries to push back her grief and remorse to focus entirely on healing Thrass. However, the damage is already done and the shaky, exhausted control she has quickly dissipates.
"Wow…. That was amazing." Thrass breathes as he surveys his newly healed wounds. The flesh is still a wan blue and decorated with an assortment of cuts and scratches, but the pain has subsided greatly and there is no longer any danger of infection. He turns his still wide gaze upon the Jedi, a grateful smile adorning his features. Lorana sheepishly grins back despite the pounding headache she now has from her overuse of the Force. A faint, embarrassed blush stains her pale complexion at the look of gratitude and amazement from the Chiss.
"It was nothing….. Your injuries were not that serious."
"Still, thank you. Your powers continue to amaze me." Lorana quickly adverts her gaze, her blush deepening at the unexpected compliment. They stand there a moment, Lorana staring at the cracks in the slab of durasteel and Thrass gazing expectantly at her. Finally, when the silence becomes too much Thrass asks, "Will you heal yourself as well?" Lorana sighs and hesitantly shakes her head.
"No…. I'm too tired and worn. But my injuries are not that bad. We must try to find the others now." The male Chiss frowns at her statement and shakes his own head in reply.
"In that case, please sit down. I'll bandage you up."
"No, that isn't necessary."
"Please, I insist." They stare at each other for several long seconds, waging a silent battle between wills. Finally, Lorana concedes defeat and lowers her gaze back to cracks on the durasteel slab. Stiffly, she sits down and carefully holds the lightsaber while Thrass goes to work. The Chiss kneels beside her and gently begins to dress the larger wounds. The heat from the close proximity of her blade causes droplets of sweat to cascade down his azure skin, but Thrass makes no compliant.
"Please hurry. We have to find the other survivors." Thrass nods wordlessly, as he finishes tying up a bandage around her upper arm. Though it is only in her mind, the makeshift bandages seem to halt the throbbing flow of pain from her injuries. Once he finishes dressing up her other wounds, Thrass slowly gets to his feet and offers a hand up for Lorana, to which she gratefully accepts. Her muscles are still stiff and sore, but otherwise, she feels significantly better with her injuries dressed. Readjusting her grip on her lightsaber, Lorana nods towards the nearest exit. "Let's go." She states, before rushing as fast her exhausted limbs would allow her, with Thrass shuffling closely behind. As they finally exit the room, into the hallway, a quiet sigh escapes Lorana at the never-ending hall of darkness. The green hue of her lightsaber does not even seem to dent the expanse of shadow all around them. Some wires still flash weakly, and the scent of grease and stale air permeates their senses. Weak noises echo hauntingly from the inner depths of the derelict ship. Yet, neither Jedi nor Chiss say a word as they begin their long trek of looking for the survivors.
The shadows and complete stillness of the derelict ship makes it seem as if time is standing still. At times, large pieces of rubble stand in their path, in which cases, Lorana would either use her lightsaber to cut through it provided it was safe to do so or they would find another path and walk around the obstruction. It seems to take an eternity to traverse the ruined ship. Despite the slow progress, Lorana and Thrass continue on their way undaunted. Lorana's Force sensitivity helps to narrow down exactly where the other survivors are, but other than their whereabouts and a general idea of their welfare, she cannot get more specific information. The anticipation and worry claw at her heart as she continues to move forwards until the grip on her lightsaber tightens, and her hand is white from the strain. Thrass must have sensed her increasing tenseness and unease for after several minutes of studying the back of her head, he quietly whispers,
"I am sure they are well." He ventures kindly. The shadows dance oddly across his face. The green glow from her lightsaber gives his complexion an odd hue and makes his glowing carmine eyes seem more alien than usual.
"….Yes, I'm just a little….scared I guess." At Thrass' puzzled gaze the Jedi continues with her thoughts. "I mean, before all of this-" She motions towards the entirety of crashed ship with a casual wave of her free hand. "-they were not too fond of Jedi. I am not sure how they will react towards seeing us now…." Her gray eyes seem darker as she confides this concern. Thrass' eyebrows narrow slightly and a thin frown decorates his features at Lorana's comment.
"I see…..but surely they must know that you are responsible for their continued survival…."
"Maybe….but I doubt they will continue to trust me or even believe me…. " She halts in her tracks and turns to face him completely. The darkness flits across her face, making the angles appear harsher, and worn. Her gray eyes shine brightly from the soft glow of her lightsaber despite the harsh appearance of the flickering shadows. She sighs and leans against the dented wall right behind her, holding the lightsaber carefully as she crosses her arms over her chest. "If they do believe me…..that just might make them trust me even less…." Thrass is silent for several long moments, his gaze intently studying the young Jedi before him. Lorana fidgets uncomfortably under his unrelenting stare, but cannot bring herself to fully meet his scrutinizing eyes. Finally, after a couple of minutes of tense silence, the Chiss speaks. His voice is soft, a reassuring murmur that helps to combat Lorana's sudden unease.
"Perhaps, but I have known you for an even less amount of time than they, and I know that you are a person with great compassion. " He gently grasps hold of her hand, squeezing it in a comforting manner. Despite her previous concerns, Lorana cannot help but smile shyly and appreciatively at the Chiss' soothing words and manner.
"Thank-" The loud clamor of voices and footsteps cuts off the rest of her statement and causes her to jump slightly from the dented wall in surprise. Thankfully, her reflexes kick in and she quickly maneuvers the lightsaber in such a way that it would not impale her Chiss companion. Thrass' head jolts up in alarm at the sudden sign of life in the otherwise deserted ship. His attention quickly snaps from the young Jedi to the end of the hall, where elongated shadows and dim lights dance upon the far wall. The pair stand poised, their limbs locked and their minds blank with anticipation. Their clasped hands tightened instinctively in anticipation of the coming newcomers. The combination of Lorana's lightsaber and the light from the other survivors provides enough illumination that both parties can see each other without too much difficulty. The survivors look a little worse for wear, but in better condition than Lorana or Thrass were when they first woke up. There are about five or six of them, all human males, and they gaze at the Jedi and Chiss in a mixture of shock, relief and suspicion.
"Jedi Jinzler?" A familiar voice calls out and one of the survivors moves slowly towards the duo. His face is completely covered with dust and grease, despite some smears where he tried to wipe it away and his jumpsuit is slightly disheveled with a few tears. The combination of his worn attire and the dim lighting makes his eyes appear to shine even brighter.
"Pressor?" Lorana calls back tentatively, before her entire face breaks out into a relieved grin. She quickly turns off her lightsaber and walks towards him, with Thrass not too far behind. "I'm so happy to see you are okay. Is your family safe?" The man cannot help but smile back despite the lingering suspicion in his features or the catastrophic events that brought them to this point.
"Yes they are. The kids are a little shaken up, but otherwise they're fine. " He grips her hand in a tight handshake, his eyes sparkling with relief at finding another survivor. "I'm glad at least you survived." He looks over her shoulder as though expecting to see other Jedi, and when he only sees Thrass a soft sigh of relief escapes his lips. The others are not so relieved, especially the one in the forefront of the other three survivors. He walks slowly behind Pressor and gazes with ill contained suspicion at both Jedi and Chiss. Despite his disheveled and dusty appearance, Lorana recognizes him as Uliar.
"Hello Uliar, I am happy to see you are okay as well." She says kindly, gray eyes warm with relief at seeing another survivor that she recognizes. Uliar merely nods at her words before directing his complete attention on Thrass. His eyebrows narrow slightly as he studies the Chiss. Thrass, for his credit, meets his gaze coolly and without any trace of unease.
"And who is this?" The man asks motioning at the blue alien. "Is this one of Mitthrawnuruodo's, or whatever his name is, men?" His tone is accusing and harsh. Even in her tired state, Lorana can feel the undercurrent of distrust and anger in the Force, slowly spreading like flood waters amongst all the men. Thrass and Lorana glance at each other, the realization of their predicament shining in their eyes. The remaining survivors make their way towards the rest of the group, and form a loose circle around the pair. Pressor seems confused by the sudden tension in the air while the other men continue to stare warily at the Chiss. Without thinking, Lorana quickly steps in front of Thrass, shielding his form with her smaller frame.
"This is Mitth'ras'safis, He is my friend and helped me safely land the ship." Lorana states, raising her chin up defiantly despite the fast, anxious thrumming of her heart. Cold sweat pours down her spine as she meets the wary gazes of the men. Beside her, she can feel Thrass tense slightly as the taut atmosphere begins to mount to even higher levels. His hand brushes against her own, for her support or to encourage himself, she cannot say. Nonetheless, despite the nervousness and anxiety that permeates the air; the Chiss' presence provides a measure of comfort and security that is similar to the tranquility of the Force.
"It was his kind that did this to us." Uliar accuses angrily, jabbing a finger at the two of them. His eyes blaze with rage and hurt. Some of the men's glares harden considerably and the fury, pain and suspicion begins to echo, like the rumbling of a thunderstorm, in the Force. Summoning her courage, Lorana forces herself to meet Uliar's gaze squarely.
"No!" Her voice rings loud and clear and for once, her confidence shines through undeterred. "We are all stuck in this predicament. It will not do any of us any good if we start infighting now." She stares at each man in turn. Pressor still looks confused, and a little taken back by her sudden outburst as does Uliar. The other men seem to grudgingly agree and though they still frown darkly at the Chiss. "We need each other to survive. We are all bound by our common grief and strife; and it is only through unity that we can make it through these hard times." Lorana states, her passionate voice ringing through the otherwise silent derelict ship. The pain still lingers in all the men but the hatred and suspicion slowly wither down at the passion behind the Jedi's words and under her unrelenting, compassionate gaze.
"I do not mean any harm to you or your people." Thrass adds in Sy Bisti, as he steps out from behind the young Jedi. His arms are outstretched, as though trying to show the men that he is indeed, harmless. "And one more person can be a considerable asset to helping the whole survive." He finishes as he steps in front of Lorana. His tense movements and stiff back are evidence of his obvious unease. For a long minute the two groups remain silent. Thrass remains standing tall, his red gaze giving no indication to his discomfort and apprehension; while, Uliar and the other men stare wide eyed at the Chiss and Jedi. Lorana grimaces as she realizes that they probably did not understand Thrass and is about to translate when Uliar nods stiffly in affirmation.
"Fine! But you better stay away from me. We'll deal with what your people did another time." Uliar mutters harshly. Without another word, he motions with his head towards the other side of the ship. "Come on, we best finish exploring before heading back." He says to his fellow survivors. As one, the men nod and slowly follow behind Uliar. Lorana can see Thrass' shoulders loosen considerably at the ease of the resolution as the men file down the hall. The shadows quickly swallow them whole, leaving only the slightly darker hint of their forms against the black. Only Pressor remains for a moment longer to converse with the Jedi and her companion.
"We are still at D-Three, Jedi Jinzler. We managed to find some healing supplies and food. If you want, I can lead you back there….."
"No, it's quite alright, Pressor. Thank you for everything. I shall meet you there."
"Jorad will be happy to know you're alive." Pressor says with a small smile before turning and quickly following his companions further into the darkness of the crashed ship. Lorana sighs in relief at the narrow escape from the near-conflict. She watches the men for a moment, until the group is completely swallowed by shadow and they are left in solitude. The silence is comforting after tense atmosphere from moments before and both Jedi and Chiss take a moment to recollect themselves. Then, Lorana quickly ignites her lightsaber and the sudden darkness is extinguished by bright amethyst light. Thrass turns to her suddenly, red eyes shining brightly in glow of her lightsaber.
"Thank you Jedi Jinzler." He says with a weak smile before a frown quickly overtakes his features. "Though you needn't have done that. They could have turned against you as well." Lorana feels a warm smile touch her lips at his concern. She shakes her head in reply to his statement.
"We've been through too much for me to simply abandon you now, Thrass." She says kindly before nodding her head in the direction where the survivors originally came from in a non-vocal suggestion to start moving again. Thrass nods his assent and the two begin the long, dark trek to D-Three with only Lorana's lightsaber to keep the shadows at bay. "We are in this together, Thrass. The Force brought us together for a reason." Lorana finishes as they slowly make their way through the shadow-filled halls. Thrass' faint grin returns at her continued support.
"So I see," He offers her, his arm which the young Jedi grips in a tight warrior's handshake, her gray eyes glittering with camaraderie. The lightsaber highlights their features in a soft green glow, and the hint of good humor helps to combat the weary expressions that masked their faces earlier. "I am glad to have met you Jedi Jinzler, though I wish it was under better circumstances," Thrass states, an appreciative smile on his lips and his own red eyes glowing with amity. Lorana smiles shyly and nods her head in agreement, before directing her attention back to leading them to D-Three and towards whatever surprises the future has in store for them.
Author's note: Wow….this story took quite a long time. But here it is. I have often wished for a Lorana/Thrass story and though I found some nice ones, they sadly do not like they'll be updated anytime soon. So, finally I took it upon myself to create one. This won't be a major story, at most it will be three chapters long. The explanation for Lorana and Thrass surviving is a rather simplistic one. The survivors remained in D-Three instead of going to D-Four thus, giving Lorana and Thrass a chance at survival. As always, I am sorry for any grammar, spelling errors and any OOC-ness from any of the characters. I am also sorry for any continuity errors. It has been years since I've last read Outbound Flight/Survivor's Quest and some of the details are rather murky.
