Wraith

Posted on Sun Dec 27th, 2020 @ 5:54am by Ambassador Ashahna Dalmai

Mission: Episode 1 - All Roads Lead to Nowhere
Location: Unknown
Timeline: During Order 66

She had hoped it was just a sign of the passing years having taken a toll upon her.

A tightness in her breast, a shortness of breath, a general sense of what she could only call malaise having suffused her some time ago, encouraging a retirement to her quarters aboard the Solar Streak, having had to excuse herself from the company of the humble workmen whom had lauded her something of a hero for a few cases of equipment she had let slip into their hands.

The sensation to retch had been certainly overwhelming, her crimson reddish skin pale when she made her way to the fresher, splashing water upon her face as she looked at herself in the mirror within the modest room.

Ashahna Dalmai as she had come to called herself these days was apparently considered something of an attractive woman if she was inclined to believe some of the words of others directed towards the mature Togruta. A heart-shaped face with high cheekbones that had somewhat softened with the passing of years and the loosening of skin to form the first hint of jowls. A most chin resting at the tip of her jawline beneath a pair of full and soft lips flanked by laughlines. A straight nose with an almost pinched quality resting in the centre of her face while a pair of cloudy grey eyes surrounded by faint bags and crows-feet hinted at the passing years.

Her skin was that characteristic crimson of her species. with thick and soft montrals of white with blue strips flanking her face and coming over the modest shoulders of the woman before curving over the swell of ber breast. She was adorned in a simple thin strapped dress of black, a practical colour she felt for a soiree (that apparently was more of a roaring party given the food and drink on offer).

But to her eyes, she looked right now as though she had seen a ghost, strong hands gripping the edges of her sink as she leaned forward and restrained the urge to retch.

Was she ill?

It didn’t feel quite like that, it felt more like a reaction to something. Food poisoning perhaps? She doubted it, the last few decades in the Outer Rim had hardened the woman’s stomach. No, this felt somewhat external. She took several heaves, deep lungfuls of air to try and calm herself. The intensity of this sensation had passed, but still it lingered there. A cold shiver running through her skin, her stomach twisting now as she pushed away from the refresher sink and made towards the medical compartment towards the back of the ship.

This wasn’t a good time to be ill. She had too much to do.

Though as she left the fresher, something caught her eye in the distance. A dull flashing of red from the cockpit. Her eyebrow furrowing with the new occurrence, her plans of a visit to the medical droid forgotten as she moved towards the cockpit. The clank of her high heels upon the floor of her ship providing the only sound in the otherwise silent YT-2400 light freighter that served as her home.

Her trip to the cockpit was a short one, apparently she had forgotten to close the door to the cockpit and seal it. Getting forgetful. She sighed at herself as she looked over the co-pilot’s seat.

“Hello there.” The voice of the woman bearing a crisp Coruscanti accent that stuck out like a sore thumb in several places, but if nothing else did help sell her as a woman of some means. Apparently it meant something to have this sort of accent out here.

She looked at the console, pursing her lips as she reached out with dark nailed fingers to press down upon one of the buttons. A message had apparently been received, from a place she never thought she’d hear from again.

A visage formed in holographic blue before her, reflected in her grey eyes amidst the darkness. A man adorned in Jedi robes, short hair done up neatly with a well maintained beard. The face was vaguely familiar, it was a face she’d seen before. But younger, without the beard. Her fingers gripping her chin as she tried to place the name.

"This is Master Obi Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic, have fallen with a dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place. This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi. Trust in The Force. Do not return to the Temple…that time has passed. And our future is uncertain. We will each be challenged. Our trust. Our faith. Our friendships. But we must persevere. And in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you, always.”

Throughout it all, the form of Ashahna had not moved. Nary a muscle twitched on her being. Her eyes merely resting open, perhaps a bit wider now then when the message had started. She stood in the darkness for a time, seconds.... minutes.

A new sick feeling seemed to take a hold of her, as she leaned forward, panting for breath. Nails gripping the console as she felt her restraint finally leave her and she retched upon the console. The only consolation that she felt was at least whatever was in her stomach wasn’t that profuse.

This continued for a time, the older Togruta merely panting softly for breath. At the very least, the knot in her stomach had passed as she turned her eyes back up to look at the hologram, repeating its message once more. Repetitive transmission. A part of her mind settled on as she wiped her lips.

Kenobi.

Yes, that was little Jinn’s boy.

Why she seemed to focus on that, she had no clue. Hadn’t she just received news that the Order was gone? Yet throughout it all, she could only focus on the man in the transmission. A hard “paf” filled the air as she collapsed into the pilot’s seat... and simply say there.

The transmission’s hologram merely reflecting in now empty seeming grey eyes.