Aces High, Sith Low [OPEN]

[Sherwood the Kinda-Great]

Desert
de·sert, des·ert
/dəˈzərt/, /ˈdezərt/
Noun
A dry, barren area of land, esp. one covered with sand.

Of all the terrains Commander Wedge Antilles has encountered in his years of warfare and space-faring, this was one of his least favorites. Deserts. As much as he knew they were as necessary as the rest of the many varied biomes, he still wanted them to go away. All of them. The dry, unforgiving landscape that only permitted the occasional settlement of rather disparaged people. It wasn't so much the emptiness that bothered him. He could handle that, seeing as how he was used to the vastness of space. It was the torment, the barely tolerable conditions, and its harshness to the failure of the body. The mirages, the baking sun and freezing nights, the lack of water.
This could be extended to the colder variety of desert, like what Hoth had. That was almost as bad, with the cold nipping at your appendages and slowly wearing away your body's patience and tolerance. It took away so much from him there, the feeling in his fingers and toes, friends, machinery, intel... If there was one thing he was glad about the Imperial attack, was that it got them off that damn ice ball. He shivered in thought of that place.
Wedge shifted uncomfortably in the cockpit of his X-wing. It was cruising low in the sky, only tens of meters off the ground as it went. He was not pushing the engine at all, not running shields at full, just keeping it up enough to resist the effects of the elements. His polarized cockpit windows shielded him from the blinding effects of the sun, but it still ate away at his patience. Too many memories accompanied this trek. Like it or not, he was tired. He needed a break with his squadronmates. He couldn't help but think of his home when he flew like this. Nothing else to do, anyway.
Damn, I need to quit thinking about that. grumbled he, smacking the side of his green and white helmet. To occupy himself, he began another check of his systems. With so little repair material and fuel depots about, he had to keep a watchful eye over his circumstances. Too many frivolous usages of something or bad piloting could get him grounded for good. And he was not about to lose his X-wing.
Shield systems nominal, fuel at 43%, S-foil actuators functional, Stabilizers set...
He let Mynock, his R2 Unit, take control of flying the starfighter while he did that. It'd be easier to do it the other way, but then he'd get distracted again. He needed a break.

[Saasha]

As the x-wing flew low over the ground, it's path was not all that empty. Just off to the left of the pilot's view and into the distance a bit a group of black dots bounced and rolled to and fro in the sand. Three of them. No, four. the three seemed to be chasing after something...

The nearer the pilot got, the clearer the image got in the bright glare of the sun. Three dots these were not. Demons. Hulking slobbering beasts that bounded around the fourth of the group, taking swipes and nips at the cloaked figure. It didn't take long before the figure's ankle was caught by a wayward swipe of a clawed appendage and it went down. Immediately, the figure's hands raced over its head in a vain attempt to ward off the beasts and it tucked it's hooded head deep below the feeble defence. The creatures descended.

[Sherwood the Kinda-Great]

Wedge was far too busy to notice. Calibrating weapons, adjusting harmonics, realigning sensors...
Mynock, however was more observant than that. The sensors immediately flared to life, and painted an image of the creatures at a distance of 2000 meters. A warning klaxon sounded in the cockpit, and Wedge looked up from his minor work to the screen.
What's this, then, Mynock?
Data streamed across the screen on various energy signatures radiating from the demons, then more information on their hostility towards another. Wedge saw with a bit of shock when the pursued was tripped by the pursuers. As tired as he was, he still wasn't about to let the innocent get harmed. He flipped down his orange visor and flicked a switch on the cockpit's roof.
Alright, Mynock, let's give this one some aid. We're gonna come in for two passes, then I'll touch down and go in on foot.
From the figures position, the fighter banked towards her, growing in size and profile, and its wings split into a signature X position. It seemed to be getting closer, faster. The sound of four fusial thrust engines could be heard over the sounds of the demons attacking, and its wingtips began spurting out crimson bolts of energy, slapping into the ground and sending chuffs of sand into the air with each impact. They continued down the sand in a line, right in front of and into the demons that weren't directly on top of the fallen figure.
The X-wing was very near the ground at this point, and it clipped one of the demons with it's wing, sending brain and blood and hair everywhere at 600 kph.

[Saasha]

The energy beams caught one of the beast's square in the torso and it writhed and twitched, giving a loud howl of agony before disintegrating into dust. The other two looked up, so preoccupied with their future feast that they didn't notice the flying contraption until it zapped their hunt mate. Perhaps a wonderful tribute to their focus ability- and stupidity. But with the ship going so fast, it only took milliseconds between their beady eyes locking on the machine and the machine's wing ripping into the torso of one of the demons. It didn't even have time to react as it's gore was spread over the sands at such speed that every bit of it blew right over the figure's head without soiling the cloak or it's alabaster arms in the least.

The last of the demons was smart enough to jump to the side at the last second, only to be whipped about by the fierce wind the X-wing kicked up. It dug it's claws into the sand to regain it's grp and to stop it's sliding. Teeth bared and long, club-like tail swishing to and fro, it let out an ear-piercing screech of warning to it's metal attacker. The cloaked figure pulled the hood down farther to keep the sand out of it's eyes and mouth as the X-wing flew over, but attempted to stand as the demon was rushed away by the winds. However it proved to be an un-wise idea as the injured ankle buckled and the sand once again became support for the fallen prey.

The demon once again turned it's attentions to the struggling being. It would be damned if some metal bird was going to take it's feast away. It watched the X-wing, waiting for it to come to him.

[Sherwood the Kinda-Great]

Wedge felt the impact on the wing through the yoke, and a system schematic lit up on his screen, showing the location the creature hit. Mynock blatted harsh words about the unnecessary hit and began caterwauling about the structural damage as a result.
It was worth the damage. Just keep it functioning and we'll tend it when we land.
The X-wing rolled over onto a wing and banked hard left, coming around for another run. Wedge flicked his firelink switch to quad-burst and locked the targeting brackets onto the creature. He took his time with this one, slowing down and making sure to angle his wings so as to not risk the victim any more than necessary.
Four more bolts shot out from each wingtip at once, streaking through the sky to their unholy enemy, while the X-wing was literally hovering in place, like a large mechanical bird of prey waiting for its prey to twitch and die. Blood and flesh painted the side of the wing, a dark crimson not unlike the paint on the side of the craft itself.

[Saasha]

As the last of the demons exploded into oblivion, once again the being was forced to raise it's arms to shield itself from the bloody rain that doused the sand and stained it crimson. Once it was over, the being lowered it's fabric shield and looked over the carnage. Even from under the thick cloak, one could see it's shoulders raise and lower as it sighed in sweet relief. The hood turned to the X-wing. Although the face could not be seen, it was apparent that the relief was short lived. Yes it had been saved, but saved by what?

The being tried once more to pull itself back a few feet to a semi-safe distance, only to find the leg in excruciating pain. A slender, fair hand grasped just above the injury as it pulled back and it's progress was stopped effectively.

[Sherwood the Kinda-Great]

The X-wing righted to a normal flight position, hovering in place after the kill had been made, as if inspecting the damage it did. It did not rotate or respond to the girl's behavior, only making a humming noise from various systems inside the fuselage and engines. Suddenly, the wings began closing up again, reforming into a seemingly standard flight form. Then, it backed off from the girl, then lowered itself to the bottom of the sandy dunes, landing gear extending and letting the fighter land safely. And there it sat.

Meanwhile inside the cockpit, Wedge was watching the creature's bits disperse. It grossed him out slightly to see the bits atomize and be strewn about the dusty landscape and the victim.
Remind me to get the X-wing a good cleaning once we land in a city. I'm taking her down in the valley to check on the victim.
He flicked a switch above to close the S-foils and reallocated power to reverse thrust gently, pulling the throttle back to back up slowly. His sensors displayed a 3D image on his frontal console, displaying his position according to below. Once he was centered, he cut the reverse and brought the fighter down, setting it down gently as normal.

The canopy opened slowly, and Wedge's green-and-white helmet could be seen moving about slightly before he, clad in his standard orange jumpsuit, white vest, and dark-colored box on his chest, hauled himself out from the top and down onto the sand. He unhooked and drew the blaster on his side, and slowly began approaching the girl.

[Saasha]

She was so preoccupied with the radiating pain in her leg that she didn't look up until the X-wing had landed and the pilot jumped out. Seeing that he seemed to be human made her relax a bit, but it did not last long as her eyes settled on the blaster at his side. She couldn't blame him for his caution, but at the same time it did not exactly put her at ease to see it. She slowly raised the hand that was previously on her ankle to face him palm-first, blood smeared over it and dripping between her lithe fingers. They were shaking a bit.

Her soft voice held twinge of fear as she spoke.

"Please... please I mean no harm..."

[Sherwood the Kinda-Great]

Wedge frowned slightly at the girl. She was clearly injured, and he wasn't exactly a medical transport. He holstered his blaster quickly and nodded once to the girl, scrambling up the sand dune to get to her.
That was another thing he hated about deserts. Sand. It got everywhere. And it was not comfortable to sit on. Climbing up this dune was a surefire way to get that problem.
Once he made it up, he crouched and removed his helmet, exposing himself to her sights. He ripped the velcro of a pocket on his flightsuit and took out some gauze, ready to bandage the wound.
Mynock, I need the medical kit out here ASAP! She's been hurt! called he, concentrating more on the wound than the woman before him.

[Saasha]

The moment the blaster was put away and he scrambled up the slope, her hand returned to her ankle. Seeing as she was sitting on her hip, it was easy enough to pull up the edge of the cloak to expose the three deep gashes without getting any sand in them. They were fairly deep, but it was rather hard to tell that through the red that bubbled up from them. She had only been sitting idle for a few minutes but already a pool of blood had formed under the ankle. A soft moan pulled from her throat as the throbbing got worse and the removal of the cloth tugged at the rough edges.

As Wedge lowered himself to the sand to inspect her ankle, she raised her head to meet his. As she did, her hood slipped back to reveal her face. Her piercing green eyes scanned over his face in slight alarm of his quick action, half hidden by her somewhat messy and sideswept black bangs. Three small, green gemstones glittered on the bridge of her nose; implants perhaps.

"Th-thank you."

She managed to gasp out between her relieved and tired breaths.

"It's... it's not that bad. I'm okay."

She tried to sound convincing, but even to her own ears it was a poor try.

[Sherwood the Kinda-Great]

You're totally ok. And I'm actually a Jedi Master. You've probably got deep lacerations, as well as a probably infection. I don't think those guys were clean. Mynock should be here soon with the Bacta patch.
Wedge began applying pressure to the wound, the hot red blood running along his flight gloves as he did. A small part of him was quite pleased to not make contact with blood. Never was his favorite thing to have on him.

Meanwhile, Mynock had lifted itself out of the X-wing's astromech socket and to the ground below. It had already opened the cargo bay under the fuselage, so it only took a moment to remove the medical supplies and begin rolling on its standard tri-wheel system to get to the needing woman. The R5 droid made it up the hill and dropped the container at Wedge's feet, whistling a cheerful, optimistic tune about the whole ordeal.

Yea, I know, it's not that bad. See if you can use the X-wing's sensors to check the weather. Don't wanna get caught in a sandstorm.

He took the container and opened it, still pressing onto the wound with a hand. Out came the bacta patch, and once the packaging was removed, Wedge pressed it firmly onto the cut. Bacta began its magic, accelerating cell regrowth and sealing the wound as it should. Wedge took a moment to clean his gloves off in a bit of water, and wrap the patch up with some medical gauze and tape.

[Saasha]

The girl seemed to drew back a bit at the mild scolding, but her hesitant expression was replaced with a pained one as pressure was applied to her wound. She gave a small whimper but bit the edge of her bottom lip to keep the rest of the sound inside of her lungs.

One thing did change however as the droid approached. At the sounds of the booping and whistling she opened her eyes and a spark of recognition lit them. She looked back to the X-wing, to the droid again, then onto the pilot's outfit. She said nothing however, though it was plain that his words and nearly everything else about him meant something to her.

As the pilot worked, she watched him, wincing every now and then but overall remaining silent. Even as the bacta patch was applied and her skin began to knit together painfully, she didn't utter a sound- though her gaze did lower to the sand beneath her. The pain began to subside as he wrapped it and effectively shielded it from the heat and wind. She released the breath that she had been holding slowly before looking back up to him shyly and uttering quietly,

"Thank you- for everything. I- I don't know what would have..."

She took a deep, shaky inhale to compose herself more before starting again, this time a bit more solidly.

"Thank you. If there is anything I can do to repay you..."

She paused, not really able to form a complete sentence apparently. Her hands and legs were still shaking from her previous experience and it was plain that the adrenaline and fear were not totally out of her system yet. Yet the earnest in her eyes was plain, she was grateful.

[Sherwood the Kinda-Great]

He didn't notice her recognition of him, more concerned with making sure that the patch stayed on her leg. Medical jobs were gross, unforgiving, and intolerant of failure.
No need to repay me. Right now, we need to worry about how you're going to make it to civilization soon.