Paradox : One

Paradox 

He hoped to God she would be there. She should be in there – her shift ended three hours ago, if his estimation was correct. And if she wasn’t there, he was surely going to die. The sound of blasterfire had become muffled the farther he had gotten, but now it was getting louder again. The ship was rocking with the force of explosions. Once, he lost his footing for the violence of it, only to be pushed forward by another fiery explosion directly behind. There were scattered bodies all around, some still smoldering – dying men and women crawled from the shadows, gripping at his clothes with blind desperation. Any other day, Trask would have done anything to help them. But he had a duty to do. Bastila needed him, and he had his own life to save.

Trask slammed unceremoniously against the door, pounding in the security codes with feverish urgency. He missed two keys the first time and punched the code in wrong the second time, but the third time it opened obediently for him.

As he predicted, his roommate was there. The ship gave another ominous lurch and she woke screaming, face shiny with tears. Seeing him there, she screamed once more, even louder than before. He realized how he must look, with blood caked on his face, gore caught in his hair, the front of his uniform torn and a heat blaster in his hand. He raised a hand in the signal of peace, but she thrust her pillow at him, scrambling out of bed. He realized with an awkward flash of cold warmth that she was wearing nothing but her underwear, which clung tightly to her skin in order to fit under restrictive armor as well as the stuffy everyday uniform.

And she wasn’t hard to look at. Not at all.

But now was not the time. With a conscious effort, Trask pushed back his growing interest. “Are you all right?” he asked her sharply.

She looked at him with her wide doe eyes and began to cry.

“Listen, you need to get yourself together. The Endar Spire is under attack – and we don’t have much time!” The adrenaline pushing through his system was nearly overwhelming. And the longer he stood there, the more the images of those bleeding bodies came back, harsher, more real. He started for her, and she cried out, recoiling.

“Wait! Who are you?”

Her voice hurt him. It was so soft, so unprotected. She was just a child, just a girl. He paused, studying her with tender pity. “I’m Trask. Your roommate. We have opposite shifts, so I know you haven’t really seen me around…”

“You’re all… you’re all bloody, I…” She retched once, swooning, but as Trask rushed to help her she righted herself. Her eyes were unfocused and her face lost what little color it had had already. Recognizing the signs of shock Trask slapped her smartly.

“Stay with me, dammit! I won’t baby you the whole way!”

“No…” Her voice was deep with the pain of nausea. She lurched dangerously forward with a sick belch.

“What’s your name? Come on, stay with me.”

“V-Viza…”

“Viza what?”

“Viza… Viza Atkia…”

“Good. Good, where are you from?” He moved past her to open up her footlocker, which, surprisingly, she didn’t have a lock for. Rummaging around he found a few things she might need – a weapon, some clothes, a cheap armor set. He handed these to her. Keep her talking. That was what was important. So long as she kept moving, kept talking – they might make it out of here. He wasn’t sure what had made her this way, but he couldn’t just leave her there to die.

“Come on, come on, hurry up. This ship’s about to be torn apart, and we need to find Bastila, if she’s even still alive. I bet that was half the crew that got killed back there… It… it wasn’t even a massacre it was… it was a slaughter…”

“Who?”

“The other shipmates, the ones on A shift, I –”

“No. Bastila.”

He stared at her, uncomprehending. She was difficult to look at with her pants half-hitched up her full hips, her hair a sleep-tousled mess. “Are you joking?”

She shook her head, stumbling as the ship rocked. That one sounded like a ship boarding without the codes. Trask realized, they had probably blasted open the hangar bay doors. There would be no getting Bastila out that way.

“Bastila… she’s the commanding officer on the Endar Spire, sort of. Hurry up, God dammit!” He could hear blasterfire, now, distinct in the distance. “It’s our primary duty to protect her in the event of an enemy attack. God, what happened to you?”

She just looked at him. If something had happened to her, she obviously didn’t remember. She tied her breastplate tight and then slipped on her jacket, buttoning it up to her chin. Her eyes were fearful but her face was set. “All right.”

“You should have finished that in under a minute. It took you five. We don’t have time – you keep doing that and we’re going to die. Get the door open. If you’re going to use that vibroblade, you need to go first. I’ll provide cover, but I can’t make any promises.” She would need his help. He seriously doubted her fighting skills – she looked as though she barely knew how to tie the knot on her own boots.

They had barely gotten out of the dormitory block when they were greeted by a wave of Sith. The rest to Trask was a blur of smoke and agony, and Viza, who moved more quickly than he could see, and who left exquisite deaths that frightened some Sith into retreat. There was gore on her face, burns on her flesh; she let out a bloodthirsty scream, and then looked at him, and her eyes were still vague with terror.

Just a girl. Just a girl.

-fin

Notes: First chapters are always a bit rocky. I hope things will get better as we move along – don’t lose hope on me yet! I can’t know how I’m doing unless you reply, and don’t hesitate to tell me anything. Even if it’s negative. I want to improve.