imported_Terran Starek
Nov 30th, 2002, 03:14:52 PM
Making his way--ever so slowly--down the hall of the Living Quarters, Terran Starek pulled a limp leg somewhat noisily. He had, thus far, avoided any major attention. Those that had saw him knew exactly where he was going and gave him a sympathetic smile and a nod or wave of concern. Not many people were awake at this ungodly hour--it was well past the middle of the night and approaching dawn. He had a destination, and he was making his way there. Even with his body failing and mind numbing, he would make it there.
His knee cried out in pain with each step. It had been severly injured, and even dragging it was hard work for the Padawan. His wrist was almost broken--if not entirely so. The black and blue outline of it on his skin told that the internal bleeding and bruised flesh was not in good shape. His face, dirty and cut, also showed signs of physical abuse. His clothes, unkempt, dingy, and torn, were almost in tatters.
It had been a rough battle (Dark Nights of Coruscant (Terran v. Silus) (http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=24229) ) and the hurt Jedi had barely made it back here, to the GJO. HIs first destination, as they dock droid had suggested, should have been the med bay. He would be easily patched up there, with little problem getting back on his feet. However, he had only on destination on his mind.
Xazor.
He needed her, wanted to see her. He had stared down death tonight, with her on his mind, and now it was only necessity that he see her. His head dizzy and eyes heavy as he made his way down the hall to her door, he opened it. It had been unlocked...as if she knew someone was coming. Perhaps she just left it unlocked in case of an emergency, as he knew she commonly thought of others. Making his way inside, to her bedroom, he limped even more. Then, in her doorway, he stopped, his last bit of strength waining.
"Xazor..." he spoke, in a whisper, but loud enough for her to hear. It was all he could muster as his body let go. Falling, with a loud thud, he hit the ground, losing consciousness...
His knee cried out in pain with each step. It had been severly injured, and even dragging it was hard work for the Padawan. His wrist was almost broken--if not entirely so. The black and blue outline of it on his skin told that the internal bleeding and bruised flesh was not in good shape. His face, dirty and cut, also showed signs of physical abuse. His clothes, unkempt, dingy, and torn, were almost in tatters.
It had been a rough battle (Dark Nights of Coruscant (Terran v. Silus) (http://www.swforums.net/forum/showthread.php?s=&threadid=24229) ) and the hurt Jedi had barely made it back here, to the GJO. HIs first destination, as they dock droid had suggested, should have been the med bay. He would be easily patched up there, with little problem getting back on his feet. However, he had only on destination on his mind.
Xazor.
He needed her, wanted to see her. He had stared down death tonight, with her on his mind, and now it was only necessity that he see her. His head dizzy and eyes heavy as he made his way down the hall to her door, he opened it. It had been unlocked...as if she knew someone was coming. Perhaps she just left it unlocked in case of an emergency, as he knew she commonly thought of others. Making his way inside, to her bedroom, he limped even more. Then, in her doorway, he stopped, his last bit of strength waining.
"Xazor..." he spoke, in a whisper, but loud enough for her to hear. It was all he could muster as his body let go. Falling, with a loud thud, he hit the ground, losing consciousness...