eiattu_pride: (i'm sort of worried here)
[personal profile] eiattu_pride
Rial's waiting.

The rescue party was sent out almost twenty minutes (seventeen minutes and thirty-eight seconds) ago, and Rial's waiting. He heard the explosions, same as them, and shut his eyes, hoping wishing praying that it was Plourr and that she was doing it deliberately, convincing himself that she hadn't gone up in flames.

And now he's waiting.

(eighteen minutes and twenty-six seconds)

Date: 2007-01-01 02:57 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sw-npc.livejournal.com
A whine of engines and the ungainly shuttle comes into view, flying low, from where thick columns of smoke are rising into the air deep in the jungle. The pilot knows what he's doing; the ship stops on a cred coin over the palace's tiny landing strip and begins to set down on repulsorlifts, the ship's wings folding up.

Date: 2007-01-01 03:05 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sw-npc.livejournal.com
The shuttle settles onto its landing gear and the ramp hisses down; even before it has quite hit the ground, one of the crew is leaning out, holding onto a strut. He shouts something that is lost under the roar of the repulsorlifts, but he beckons to Count Pernon.

Date: 2007-01-01 03:15 am (UTC)
From: [identity profile] sw-npc.livejournal.com
"We've called for a medteam," says the man, leading him farther into the small shuttle. "They're on--" The engines cut out, leaving him shouting; he lowers his voice to a reasonable level. "They're on their way."

Date: 2007-01-01 03:32 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (any - asleep)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
The bunks on Lamba-class shuttles are not made for tall bodies. Still, the crew has done the best they can despite the short trip (damn Prims were right in the palace's own backyard the whole time, one of the crew members muttered while they were still setting down); someone tucked a blanket around the princess and a jacket is folded under her head for a pillow.

Plourr opens her eyes and tips her face toward the footsteps, and her smile is tiny and manuevered around a split lip. "Hey, you."

Date: 2007-01-01 03:50 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (bald - eyes dark)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
She laughs and she tries to keep it small but it still hurts. To be entirely honest, it hurts like a bitch. Her face twists, as much as she doesn't want it to.



"Am not."

Date: 2007-01-01 04:02 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (long - eyes dark)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
She focuses a bleary, one-eyed gaze on him. " 'Re you seriously already starting with the 'I told you so'?"

Date: 2007-01-01 04:13 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (medium - concerned)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Plourr's expression can best be described as 'weakly sour.' She opens her mouth to respond but her ears are ringing again, her vision fading dark at the edges and she doesn't want to go, not while he's here; she reaches out from under the blanket, searching for his hand with hers, scabbed over as her knuckles are and out of place as two of her fingers are.

Date: 2007-01-01 04:23 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (rial - hands)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Those two fingers aren't obeying her, but the rest are curled tightly around his hand.

Date: 2007-01-01 04:33 am (UTC)
fighting_mad: (any - asleep)
From: [personal profile] fighting_mad
Plourr would doubtless appreciate it.

If her eyes weren't rolling back in her head.

The medical team is there, then, politely but firmly shouldering Rial out of the way, and they do their work. They check vital signs, remove the blanket--and the cause behind her pallor becomes apparent as the shoulder of her tunic is stained a particularly deep red; the medtechs tsk quietly at her broken arm--stabilize the princess and they move her onto the repulsorbed. Plourr remains (quite happily) dead to the universe.

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