OOM and EP: Confrontation with Paladius

[last_kallig]

(OOM) Paladius has one last trick to pull.

Ibani was clearly not expecting Milliways, if her appearance is anything to go by. She's in her armor and her right gauntlet and some of her right arm is covered in blood that's still wet.

"Really? You needed me here right now?" she asks no one in particular. She sighs. "Well, I suppose a rest couldn't hurt."

Comments

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut, who is luxuriating in doing nothing particularly difficult at all (in this case, polishing and amending any damage to his staff while listening to Baze read from a book they found in the library as they both sprawl on the couch, soaking up the fire's heat) is the first to notice her entry. He perks up from his lazy posture, with a brilliant smile aimed mostly in her direction.

"Ibani! You're ba..." He freezes, abruptly, before continuing on in a much more strident and demanding tone. "Is that blood I smell?"

[iprotectyou]

Baze sets his book aside, untangling from Chirrut and standing from the couch to greet his friend. He folds his arms, offering her a loom Chirrut would call 'the skeptical mother hen' if he ever saw it. "It's not your blood, is it?"

Baze itches to check her over for further injury, but stays where he is.

[last_kallig]

"It's not mine!" Ibani affirms. Her voice sounds a little strange, there's a metallic echo to it, like a trooper with a helmet on. There's no feeling of pain in the Force or the unnatural stillness she had when she was trying to hide emotions from Chirrut earlier. so she's probably telling the truth.

"Though I should grab a towel or something before I drip on the floor." As she walks over to the Bar there is the definite sound of armored footsteps. She walks light on her feet, but the armored boots are going to make more noise than synthleather.

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut's answering snort sounds decidedly skeptical, and it is - he's spent decades worrying about Baze and his often-infuriating stoicism, this is just a natural extension of that long-grown habit. He's learned, over the years, to not trust answers.

He's practically sitting on his hands to avoid giving in to temptation and going over to 'see' her lack of injuries for himself. He's sure she can tell he's fretting about it, but since he can't do a thing about it, he doesn't add to his load.

"Dripping is not a reassuring word." He retorts, exasperated.

[iprotectyou]

"It's covering an armored gauntlet of hers," Baze informs Chirrut, shifting back and forth on his feet. He's fretting as much as his friend. "But I don't see any anywhere else on her body, and she's well armored, and I don't smell blaster char."

Baze decides to lean on the back of the couch, as if that will make not checking her for injury easier to bear. It doesn't, but he can pretend. "So, Ibani, I assume the Sith who went to ground--you found him?"

[last_kallig]

There is a feeling in the Force of fond exasperation. Ibani rolls her eyes. "If I had been injured, I would have healed it immediately after the fight was over. Pain is useless when you're not in combat, and injuries can impair you if a fight breaks out again later."

Because she's SENSIBLE, unlike some people.

She grabs a towel from Bar and wipes the gauntlet off as she heads over to them. "I did," her smile is sharp as she sits on the couch. "That hunt is finally over, though it had a few surprises at the very end."

[idontneedluck]

As soon as she's in range, Chirrut is on her. Nimble fingers ghost over her armor, searching for damage, for pooling blood. He trusts the Force, yes, but he's lived with loss. Reassurance isn't something he takes lightly anymore.

"Well done. We are more than happy to hear the story of your victory, if you want to share it."

[iprotectyou]

It's true. Baze and Chirrut are still battered and bruised, and she is far more sensible than they are. Baze even winces as he shifts his weight to sit back down on the couch, gently pushing Chirrut aside to make room.

Baze didn't see her roll her eyes, due to the helmet, but he could hear it in her voice. It's the same voice Chirrut uses all the time. Baze allows his friend to check her over, thinking that the larger man will get his turn soon--provided she doesn't object.

"Yes, I would love to hear the story," Baze says, offering her a smile. "If you're willing to share. And don't skimp out on us."

[last_kallig]

The metal of the armor might feel strange under Chirrut's fingers, durasteel, cortosis and other metals mixed to form something strong but light. There's a pattern embossed on it too, something almost like vines.

Ibani takes her helmet off, then brushes the clean gauntlet through her hair in an attempt to bring it back into order. This mostly doesn't work.

She won't object to Baze checking, although she will roll her eyes and mutter "mother hens" under her breath.

"I don't think I told you about who I was after on Nar Shaddaa, did I?"

[idontneedluck]

"Just that it was a Sith." Chirrut agrees, releasing her with a satisfied air. He grabs his discarded staff and taps the end in the path of one of the wait rats to get its attention.

"Sapir for me, and... Baze, Ibani?"

[iprotectyou]

"Hot chocolate, with tang bark, please," Baze tells the eat. He shifts to take Ibani's bloody, gauntleted hand in his own, meaty ones, and extends her fingers one by one. His check is more visual than Chirrut's, for obvious reasons, and he's mostly satisfied with his friend's inspection. He releases Ibani's hand, wiping the blood off on the thigh of his jumpsuit.

"Did you use your fists in this fight?"

[last_kallig]

"Sapir for me, please."

"His name was Lord Palladius, a Sith Pureblood and leader of his own little cult on Nar Shaddaa." She's forgotten that the term Sith Pureblood likely mean nothing to Baze or Chirrut.

Ibani scowls, anger seeping into the force at her remembered outrage. "He was using the poor and the desperate to grow a power base for himself, using them and giving them nothing in return. Not that Darth Zash cared about any of that, she just wanted an artifact that was in his possession, the Eye of Tulak Hord."

"I did indeed use my fists," she explains, "though I certainly wasn't planning to going in."

[idontneedluck]

"Needs must." Chirrut is a practical fighter, willing to adapt as situations change. It's how you survive in a universe that fails to fight fair. "Sounds like a good day's work."

[childofrebellion]

Cassian's working on his report, his body remains better though his nightmares are awful.

When she enters with blood and the armor, his hand goes to the blaster at his side as he watches then recognizes Ibani's voice. His hand is trembling as he shifts it onto the table, "Ibani?"

[last_kallig]

"That's me!" Ibani calls out cheerfully. "Sorry for giving you a start, I hadn't intended to wind up here."

She removes the helmet with her left hand, sensing that it would be a good idea for him to see her face as soon as possible.

"And I should probably wipe this off before I drip everywhere."

[childofrebellion]

"Yes, that would be a good idea. Are you hurt?"

His hand stills as he grips his datapad and he looks for a rat to order whatever she might need. He can hear that his voice is tighter than he wants it to be but her mask is similar to Death Troopers.

[last_kallig]

"I'm not injured, though it was a far closer thing than it should have been," Ibani says, scowling by the end of the sentence. "I got my target, but he had a few tricks up his sleeve I didn't even know were possible."

"Should I change out of this first before I join you? I'd guess Imperial fashion's not something you want to see right now."

[childofrebellion]

"I'm fine. Tell me what happened?"

This is a lie but he's not going to have her changing for him, that's more than she needs to do. He'll adjust, this is another kind of injury and he's good at healing and moving on. Cassian releases his datapad and finds a rat to order something for her to clean up with along with some caf.

[last_kallig]

Cassian almost gets the skeptical eyebrow, but he might be embarrassed that she knows he's lying, so she refrains.

She slides into the seat across from him. "He cut me off from the Force and did...something that started to drain my life energy." Ibani huffs in frustration with herself. "Apparently I know less about what's possible than I thought I did."

[childofrebellion]

As she hasn't explained to him she can tell when he's lying, its not something he's thinking of, "I didn't know that was possible."

[last_kallig]

"I didn't either, it was a nasty surprise," Ibani replies. "Luckily for me, he didn't expect me to leap across the desk at him and brawl."

[childofrebellion]

"Its hard to stop a fist. Is there someone you can ask?"

Someone must have studied the Force when there were Jedi.

[last_kallig]

"It is, especially one encased in armor."

"Not really, at least not about something as esoteric as that. Sith tend to keep powerful techniques secret, they're often lost when the originator dies only to be rediscovered centuries later."

[childofrebellion]

He absently rubs his cheek, he has had some bacta on it but its still swelled and he took a stormtrooper fist to the face,

"Yes, it is. But what happens if someone never passes a secret on?"

[last_kallig]

"Then it gets lost, sometimes forever. But I suppose that's to be expected from an organization as prone to backstabbing as the Sith Order. You keep your secrets so you have an edge over everyone else, who cares about the consequences."