"Just because I'm in over my head doesn't mean I'm about to give up."
Lord Egatio was gone.
Either he had found a way to hide himself from the Force, or he had died. Given how little I knew of his abilities, I did not dare speculate on which was more likely. Quick mental math suggested that the best course of action for either one would be to not be anywhere near here.
Unfortunately, there was a pair of Sith apprentices in my way. Metaphorically, at least. Literally, I was caught between the two of them, with a convenient exit in the form of the glass door to the balcony readily available. Except that, given how extensively this entire palace had been redesigned with defensibility in mind, those expansive doors were no doubt made from transparisteel or some other transparent armor paneling.
Which meant using the sliding door as it had been intended.
"Nestor?" someone asked. Hibal, it had to be. The sound came from in front, Hibal was in front of me, it was simple logic. Unfortunately, my mind was a bit distracted from the immediate here and now. "Is something wrong?"
"Just a bit of worry about a sudden rise in expectations," I said, not even lying all that much. "Some fresh air should do the trick. If you would excuse me…"
Before I had a chance to make an exit with any semblance of grace, the unmistakable sound of a lightsaber igniting made it painfully clear what was happening; My master and I had been marked for death. All for some noble goal, no doubt. Noble for the Sith, anyway.
Without thinking, I drew on old fencing instincts. The first of those instincts? When in doubt, attack. The second? Don't let the enemy get behind you.
I tossed my bottle behind me, catching Elcho with a full bottle of some local drink. The sound of a moving lightsaber and the accompanying hissing of flash-vaporizing liquid was all the proof I needed that I had triggered whatever defensive reflexes the apprentice possessed.
But I was not sticking around to find out more.
When I had thrown the bottle, I had already been moving. Almost skipping forward, I spun on the ball of my lead foot once I was a few paces out. From there, I retreated until my back hit the wall.
My would-be assassins, meanwhile, moved to block the exits into the anteroom. Which meant they had been coordinating this ambush for longer than the meeting with the regent. Which boded poorly for my long-term survival within the Empire. And they weren't rushing me. Why weren't they rushing me? They had me two-to-one, they should have charged me!
Unless they wanted me to make the first move and screw up.
Those were all questions for future Nestor to ponder. Present Nestor still had to figure out how he was going to become Future Nestor. And then he had an idea. I mean, I had an idea.
The handle of the door, at the far corner of the room, stood straight up. Locking mechanism and latch all in one, I knew that all I had to do was throw it. And then move the door. Which was on rails with an unknown amount of resistance.
Eh, I've had worse odds.
With blessed silence, the handle on the door flipped, lifting the sliding door up fractionally. But just because it was silent did not mean it was undetected. Almost perfectly on cue, the door behind me began to rattle. Began to deform. Began to push against-
Seeing what was about to happen, I abandoned stealth and tore the door open with the Force. It slid smoothly open just as Elcho leaped across the room, trying to cut me off. Or just cut me in half, given how his lightsaber was activated.
By the smallest of margins, I managed to throw myself through the now-open door onto the balcony and scrambled for some semblance of safety in the far corner. After that… after that, I could improv-
A blood-red blade pushed through the still rattling door, and it shattered into an iridescent hail of particles almost immediately.
Okay, no time to plan, just act.
Which in my case meant jumping from the balcony while using the Force to bolster my jump. By some miracle, I managed to make it to the next balcony. But the next balcony after that was running perpendicular to this one, requiring a longer jump.
Sprinting to get up to the necessary speed, I hopped to get up to the solid stone railing, kicking off to get just enough height…
And something tore into my shoulder, into my arm, into my back. It felt like someone had jabbed a wall of needles into me, running from my bicep down to my ribs. Thankfully, I was soon distracted from that pain when I slammed stomach-first into the waist-high stone wall that passed for a railing on the balcony.
I tried to haul myself over, only for the stabbing pain in my back to intensify, tearing at my back in an ache that went bone-deep. Even so, I managed to flop over the railing and onto my good shoulder as something clattered behind me. Around me, glittering shards the size of my fingernail clattered down.
Shards of glass. Or transparisteel, rather.
Belatedly, I noticed a spreading wetness on my back and my left arm, trickling down at an alarming rate. Yeah, that needed fixing. Just as soon as I found myself somewhere relatively safe.
Slowly, I rose to a crouch. With my pulse pounding in my ears and my heart racing in my chest, I strained to hear the telltale sounds of pursuit. But no, there was no sound of boots on stone. No unnerving humming from an activated lightsaber. No clatter of transparisteel shards against stone barriers.
Just the usual ambient sounds of a city not too far away.
Well, that seemed to have done it. One escape done. Now to take care of the next step: not dying from blood loss on a balcony. Craning my head, I inspected the door to this balcony. Closed and locked, of course, but no more visible security than on the other door.
But there was one thing that earned my full attention: a first aid kit. Not something that would magically solve all my problems immediately, but it would take care of one of them. And given how an uncomfortably warm wetness had spread across most of my upper body, and how much pain was getting through the rapidly fading rush of adrenaline, it was a fairly urgent problem to solve.
Using the Force, I threw the inside door handle into the unlocked position and slid the door open. Across the room, the big green case with a medical symbol on prominent display flew into my hand as I closed and locked the door behind me. Just because they hadn't immediately pursued me didn't mean they wouldn't come eventually. And I would take every second I could buy when that happened.
Actually, why hadn't they followed me? Were they afraid of being seen?
I shook my head to clear away the thoughts. Not important right now.
In short order, I found an impressively spacious bathroom with an appropriately massive mirror and set to work. The jacket was a loss, I already knew; You did not simply sew a suit jacket, after all, and there were significant holes in it. As I doffed it, another wave of pain lanced through my left side, accompanied by the clatter of something hitting the floor.
And the wetness spread across my back a bit faster.
Transparisteel shards that had gotten knocked loose. It had to be.
The waistcoat beneath the jacket was salvageable; The tears would ordinarily be covered by the coat, so I hung it with some care instead of discarding it like the coat. The shirt had already been red before, but not blood red. And now it was torn. Also salvageable, but only barely.
Fortunately, the ruined undershirt was completely expendable. It joined the jacket on the ground as I popped open the first aid kit. Inside it was… a lot of stuff. My last first-aid course hadn't covered even half of these contents. It also hadn't been in this galaxy, but that was a whole other-
I pulled off my mask, trying to keep my thoughts focused on there here and now.
Almost immediately, my mind was a bit more at peace. That accomplished, I refocused on the first aid kit. The wound on my arm was easily dealt with; It was bleeding quite profusely, yes, but it was just a few lacerations. One bandage got wrapped around it, with another still packed bandage on the opposite side added some persistent pressure to the wound. As for my back…
Before I had a chance to deal with that problem, a familiar voice filled the room.
"You had best have the best excuse in the galaxy." Although, if the voice was familiar, the tone was not. Not an angry tone, of course not, but certainly indignant, as though she could not believe someone had had the temerity to waltz into the Republic quarters and commandeer the nearest first aid kit.
So this was how I going to die? Betrayed by my allies and killed by an opportunistic Jedi whose turf I had inadvertently invaded? Truth be told, it took longer than I had anticipated.
"I am… in a spot of trouble," I admitted, my tone softer than usual. It was the kind of tone I had last used back home, from before I had become Nestor. I kept the new accent, though.
"I can see that," she replied. For the first time, I noticed she her lightsaber was in her hand. "But why are you here?"
"There was a first aid kit, and I was bleeding at a rather alarming rate," I said, turning on the water at the frankly excessively large sink. There was a very good chance that I would never get the chance to use that water, mind you, but movement kept my hands from shaking too much as the adrenaline was fading at an uncomfortable rate, sending chills through my arms. "Still am, incidentally."
"What, did the Sith finally decide you were worth more dead than alive?" she asked, sarcasm clear in her voice. Still not moving to help, but also not moving to kill me. All in all, it was a good start.
"I don't know," I admitted, reaching for the stack of pristine white towels. If I wrapped that around my shoulder and back, the pressure should slow the bleeding a bit. That had worked the last time I had gotten stabbed in the back. But that had also required stitches… Hmm, no sutures in the first aid kit, this would have to do. "Hopefully, I will have time to figure out how I will get that information once I get this bleeding under control."
"If," she pointed out.
"If," I agreed, using the Force to move the towel into position. And almost immediately dropping it as the pain intensified from the pressure. "My first aid training was concentrated more on the extremities of other people, not one's own torso. I might be making everything worse."
"You are," she said, her voice suggesting she was standing significantly closer.
I turned to look at her. The Little Jedi was still holding her lightsaber, standing in what looked like a ready position to kill me the moment I made a funny move. Or like she was expecting me to say something. No, she was definitely expecting me to say something.
"I need your help," I admitted at last.
"Oh, I know," she said. "The question is, my help to do what?"
"To not die in the next five minutes, but I'm willing to settle for four," I managed to bite out, a bit of sarcasm returning to my voice. Oddly, that earned me an amused smile from the Jedi.
"Good, so you still have some fight left in you," she said before pointing to the ground. "Now sit down. Your back is a complete mess; I'll need to pack the wounds to control the bleeding. You will need a proper medical droid afterward."
"Sounds unpleasant," I commented.
"For you," she confirmed.
"Why does it sound like you're going to enjoy this?" I asked sardonically.
"Is that the right tone of voice for someone whose life I'm saving?" she asked, gauze package in hand. "Now, get to talking. I need to know what kind of mess you've gotten yourself into."
...
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