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The Tomb of Miktrull was unexpectedly more crowded than either of you expected.
Not only did the Tomb Guardian preoccupied you and Cal, but so did the Stormtroopers, Purge Troopers, and Probe Droids!
This day just can’t get any worse, can it? You thought, imagining yourself saying it out loud through clenched teeth.
The now-malfunctioning probe droid closed in on you and you timed the exact second before it self-destructs and Force-pushed it towards that trio of scout troopers coming at you. They instantly die in the explosion.
Cal rushed to back you up after defeating the Guardian. The Purge Trooper may be dead, but there were still two more scout troopers remaining. The odds are even—which may not be so bad, at least for you.
“I hit her! W-Why did I do that?!” the scout seemed to have regretted his action for pommeling you in the stomach.
You sent a clean streak of lunges at the scout trooper, your strikes were strong enough to break his defenses—after all, what good’s an electro-baton if your enemy’s a Jedi?
Cal easily took down the scout commander, he winced when he tried to stand up straight but he hid his pain from you when he gestured on taking on the lead.
“Look, there’s the gate,” he pointed out, Force-pulling the rope and then latching it onto the mechanism.
“Be careful, there’s that Jotaz,”
“It seems to be too busy with the Stormtroopers,”
“There’s the Jedi!” a Stormtrooper pointed out and signaled some of his men to fire at you.
“Not anymore!” you blurted, immediately deflecting the blaster fire and sending it back to their direction, leading some of the projectiles to the Jotaz—however, the mindless animal thought that it was still those soldiers who were still hurting it.
All that’s left was you and Cal against the Jotaz. The fat creature roared and lumbered towards the both of you, springing itself with its feet positioned for a flatfooted kick at either of you. Luckily, the two of you were quick and then dodged in opposite directions. Cal attacked it from behind while you drew its attention in the front, dodging its backhanded swipes by sliding against the flooded floor and searing its fleshy legs in the process.
While hunched and still coming at you, Cal took the opportunity to run up on its back and pith his lightsaber into its skull. Just when the moment seemed right, the Jotaz suddenly retaliated, feeling for Cal’s next movement and smacked him hard with its claws when the creature spun to face him.
The boy was sent flying across the other side of the chamber, lying flat on his back and partially submerged in the water. You were taken aback about how suddenly this animal became perceptive—at least, just this particular one—and had to up your game. While the Jotaz asserted its dominance against Cal, you afforded that moment to finish it off; it was close to dying and so you had to do the deed, sending a flurry of attacks, denying it as chance to attack you, and a succeeding Force-push made it stagger—finally allowing you to use your finishing move against it.
“Cal!” you ran up to him, kneeling down and ignoring the water seeping onto the legs of your pants. “Cal, open your eyes!”
A metallic smell wafted in the water, even though the chamber was quite dim, there was a noticeable red tint swirling over the back of your hand underwater. The source was from Cal’s body, but you searched for the actual wound—the Jotaz had cut Cal’s back and he’s bleeding out fast.
Promptly, BD-1 popped a stim for you, you caught the green syringe and injected it into the flesh of Cal’s bicep. His eyelids shot open when the viscous green substance packed a punch in his bloodstreams. You helped him sit up and searched for something—anything—in your person to press against the wound to clot the bleeding.
Lying right next to you is the corpse of a Stormtrooper, underneath the armor plates the dead soldier wore a black, cotton undershirt; you scrambled towards the body, tore the arm plates off until the entire sleeve showed—you gave it a good, harsh tug for the seams to pop until you’ve torn a considerable length of cloth for a compress. You dipped it in the water before putting it on Cal’s wound.
“Here, just keep pressuring on this, okay?”
The ancient elevator was there at your disposal, you supported Cal on your shoulders, hobbling towards the large cylinder and used your joint weight to trigger the pressure plate. The tube rumbled and felt it rising back up to the surface.
“[y/n], I can… I can walk,”
“Are you sure?”
“Yes.”
There wasn’t any harshness in his tone, but the firmness of his voice made his point clear. The two of you managed to get out of the Imperial base and made it to the part of the cliffside where there’s a pack of Stormtroopers waiting.
Cal pushed himself, still being able to fight but only utilizing half of his power; due to his growing weakness, the most he can do in combat in banking the shots, barely engaging in melee, and he couldn’t even use much of his Force abilities even if he wanted to.
“Bleeding’s stopped,” Cal mumbled under his breath.
“Keep it wrapped then,”
The healing stim could only do so much for the wounded Jedi. Cal’s pace was slow, traversing the obstacles suddenly became strenuous for him, but he pulled himself together until both of you came out of the mouth of the cave and caught sight of the abandoned village from the top of the slope. His body felt heavy and every muscle around his wound felt like tearing, he still thinks he’s doing a good job putting up a brave face.
“Come on,” he led on, walking ahead of you.
The trooper standing by the edge was startled by Cal’s entrance, barely having a second to stance himself, the soldier was easily subdued by the boy. The trooper’s companion eventually appeared and defeated him in less than a minute.
“This way, the path’s shorter,”
The two of you circled that house and climbed up the metal bridge where two more scouts are waiting on the other side. The commander was evidently more powerful and stronger than his subordinate, but that didn’t faze either of the Jedi, another Stormtrooper heard the din of the skirmish and pulled the trigger—to which Cal had skillfully deflected and sent back to the soldier.
Cal’s deflection became a window of opportunity for the scout commander and made an underhand swipe of his baton against the redhead’s torso—submitting the boy to his knees—and when the commander was about to finish him off with an overhead swing, the Stormtrooper’s body jerked at the impact of a lightsaber lobbed his way and fell limp to the soil.
“You okay?” you extended your hand in front of Cal, he gladly takes it and you pull him up carefully.
“Yeah, I’m good,”
The sluggishness in his body was apparent, his legs dragged to the direction he wanted them to go but it’s obvious that he cannot carry himself anymore. He stumbled back on his knees again seconds after he planted his feet on the ground.
It’s not plausible, you thought. What stood between you and the Mantis is a hangar that’s probably guarded by Stormtroopers and their KX droid or Haxion Brood hunters waiting to jump on you. The only solution you can find around you is take shelter in one of the houses. You became Cal’s crutch as you led him into the bigger house in this section of the village, BD-1 spliced the door controls and the door hissed open.
The little droid spotted the fusebox and overcharged it so all of the lights in the cottage flickered to life, revealing that the house is only one, large furnished space; you settled Cal on the couch to let him relax and catch his breath, while you searched for medical supplies. For ever cabinet you rummaged, you muttered an apology—supposedly for the absent residents in the home—you’re only apologizing to the wind. You came back to the common room, dropping all the supplies you’ve collected on the table.
“It’s not much but I think it’ll be enough to get you patched up,”
Cal proceeded to undo the top of his jumpsuit, color flushed in his cheeks when he saw your eyes counting the cuts and bruises on his body. Droplets plopped back into the bowl as you wrung the towel tight, he winced occasionally whenever you carefully dabbed the towel on and around the wound.
At first, you dismissed the occasional spasms of his body as pain reactions whenever the water from the towel seeped into the wound.
“I’m gonna have to put some Bacta gel on everything, okay?”
He nodded and you proceeded to scoop a pea-sized dollop of the healing gel for each injury you see. The translucent mint green gel partially obscured the redness of the cuts and the bruises—both old and fresh. Cal flinches whenever your finger presses onto his skin, rubbing the cool substance in circling motions on his injuries, but his muscles gradually soften a few seconds later.
Her hands are so gentle… He cooed in his mind. Secretly, he wanted you to find more of the wounds just so he can continue feeling your touch.
“I’m sorry, I…” Cal stammered.
You blinked, taken aback by the apology, “What are you sorry for?”
His head hung low, his eyes jumping from one bruise to the next, his lips parted to say something.
“I’m too much trouble to bring with,” he murmured.
A somber smile curled along the line of your lips, Cal’s shoulders jolted when he felt the center of your palm press against his jaw, the muscles of his face twitched when you ran your thumb across his cheek.
“No, you’re not,” you cooed lovingly. “Besides, I like taking care of you.”
Your words somehow made all the tension in his muscles disappear, his eyebrows furrowed, and he released a big sigh as he placed his forehead against your shoulder. Initially, he hesitated but he still gave it a try—his arms snaked around your waist, locking his hold on you by clutching his wrist with his free hand, and allowing himself to savor this feeling. He buried his face on the crook of your neck and his eyelids fell when your fingernails massaged and raked his hair—this prompted him to pull you in closer to him until your thighs sat over his lap.
It was a pleasant feeling for the young redhead. All of a sudden, his courageous Jedi demeanor morphed into that of an innocent child. This was something he lacked for a long time and he was glad to find it in you—the person who cares so much about him, the same way he does for you.