[D7 EM] Waking up blue

[Alysele Cortess]

Alysele opened her eyes, once again. She felt better... like she was hit with only one sack of bricks this time. Her throat was dry, so her eyes began searching for something to drink.

[Durasay Mixo]

Durasay had stayed at the Hospital, after taking the body to be examined. He was still asleep, his trench coat draped over the single couch in the room.

He himself was leaned back in another chair, the cross-flap of his military jacket undone. Silver/white hair a slight mess over his forehead.

Hearing a stirring, somehow shook him awake, his hand reaching for his blaster, as he shot up, pointed at the door.

And then the slow recognition. The haze of sleep being burned away by the Alderaanian woman on the bed. Shakily, he replaced the blaster, turning to look at her.

"I was worried..." his words trailed off.

[Alysele Cortess]

"Wait, wha.." she coughed heavily, the thirst eating at her voice. Finally she noticed the glass, and took a sip. "What.. are you doing here?" She asked in confusion.

[Durasay Mixo]

"I couldn't go back to my ship. Not while you were here." He sat up a little straighter, rubbing his hands together. The way he looked at her, a mixture of relief and anger.

Anger that they had failed. Anger that even with their intel, their planning, Azanak almost bested them.

Was he dead? The building collapsed around them, but who knew. "I don't know why I felt I had to stay. I almost watched you die last night. I guess... maybe I wanted to make sure you didn't."

[Alysele Cortess]

Alysele was slowly waking up herself, as she took a sip of water. Ugh, even the water tastes bad here.

"Thank you." Was her few words at first, as she gazed away. "I failed." She said out loud after a long silence.

[Durasay Mixo]

Durasay let the words hang in the air for a moment. He shook his head, before yellow-amber eyes focused on Alysele.

"No. There was nothing we could do. Even seeing the openings... Azanak was... a juggernaut. He moved with unrelenting aggression." That razor's edge of anger coming through his voice.

"I've never seen someone move as quickly as he had. You put up a hell of a defense. I don't know if we could have done anything else."

Except bring grenades. Heavy artillery.

In reality, Durasay himself was feeling that sense of failure. It was his own test. He had failed.

Pride came before the fall.

"Jo'ren pulled you before the building came down. Azanak's followers were brought down. But I don't know if I killed him with my shots or not." He shook his head again.

"I'm so sorry, Alysele. I put you through this."

[Alysele Cortess]

Alysele sighed. "Stop it." Her words were harsh. "I fought against a single opponent. My speciality. I lost twice."

She punched her own leg in frustration, wincing. "You didn't put me through anything. I could've stepped away. Stop beating yourself up." Irony! Thy name is Alysele!

"His followers are dealt with, at least."

[Durasay Mixo]

"To be fair, the second time he had his goons on you. I wouldn't call that a single opponent." He tried to offer some levity for the moment.

It just wasn't there, though. He was simmering beneath the surface. "I don't have the training to deal with him like you or Jo'ren. I can command squads, bring units together on a target."

His voice went cold. "I was arrogant in thinking I could use tactics to defeat him."

[Alysele Cortess]

"He's a giant, smelly lizard!" Her voice was full of anger. "And he beat us. Twice." She looked down, her hands were shaking. "What good did I learn? What good did all that hard training do?!" She was almost speaking to herself, at this point.

[Durasay Mixo]

Durasay couldn't think of anything that could cheer her. To calm her. Frighteningly, he didn't want to calm her. There was an inferno beginning to broil over.

"We had him. We would have had him, had the building not collapsed. I know he was hurting because of you. Because of your skill with a Lightsaber." Durasay grabbed his blaster, looking at it in his hand.

"It was like I was using a toy."

[Alysele Cortess]

"His armor.... where did he get it?" A small part of her wanted to go on. To fight out of pretty spite. A different part of her, though, was telling her to give up.

"Were you hurt?" She asked, steering the topic in a different direction.

[Durasay Mixo]

Durasay looked at her. He had to stare, and then laugh. "I rolled my ankle dragging one of his goons out of the rubble. Don't worry about me."

He was still laughing. "The idiot tried swinging at me from the ground! Like an amateur! Probably didn't even think ol' Inspector Blue was much of a threat!"

[Alysele Cortess]

"Inspector Blue? Really?" She raised an eyebrow, and let out a small, somewhat manic laugh. "Is that what you call yourself?"

[Durasay Mixo]

"It was the name I used when I infiltrated their chat room." His cheeks flushed purple for a moment, and then another sharp laugh.

"It sounds even dumber when I said that part out loud."

[Alysele Cortess]

"You should write an autobiography. Inspector Blue and the Lizard Chat Room. Perhaps make it a mystery novel." She took another sip of water, her voice slowly coming back.

[Durasay Mixo]

He tried to keep laughing, but somehow the premise brought him back down. A small smile was still held in his lips. Leaning forwards in his chair, he ran his hands through his hair.

"The cultist we dragged out. The armor was custom. Crafted with care. Finger prints were burned off, as well. I don't know what it means. My mission," At this point, it had become that, "isn't over. Not till I'm sure Azanak is dead."

[Alysele Cortess]

Alysele glanced to her lightsaber. "Mine is. Or might be. Or it's not." She let out a long breath. "I accomplished a grand total of zilch."

[Durasay Mixo]

"You have every right to step back. You were set up as bait the first time. And you've given more than I could ask anyone." He tilted his head to look back up at Alysele.

"For what it's worth, I think you're the only Jedi who could have tanked him like you did."

[Alysele Cortess]

"Not true. if ANY of the masters would've been willing to step up instead of saying I should follow my destiny, this would've been easier." Her knuckles were white from the pressure. "But nooo, I should follow my destiny. My destiny is to lose, apparently. I'm awesome." Her voice was heavily laced with bitterness and sarcasm.

[Durasay Mixo]

Now it was his turn. "No. You cut that poodoo out. Destiny might just be putting us through our own trials. We shouldn't have to rely on any mystical masters." His voice was cold, commanding.

"I will not be a slave to Destiny. And you won't, either. We're too talented to sit back and let things happen to us. We effect change." He pointed a finger down onto then arm of his chair.

He softened his eyes, straightening up again. "I refuse to believe Destiny says we fail."

[Alysele Cortess]

"Destiny is a bitch." Her voice was tired. "Mystical masters or not... the Empire has a strike force on this matter. What does the Order have? A single Jedi, with some outside help of his own accord."

She let out a slow sigh. "I feel... why do I even bother? I'm not succeeding. I'm failing. I'm not good at t his. If I were, I wouldn't be here."

[Durasay Mixo]

"To be fair, that strike force wasn't exactly effective. They rounded up teenagers and tortured then." He couldn't espouse that level of brutality.

"Maybe, we have to grow, to be better. There are things I need to learn. To be more on the front lines. Leading from the rear hasn't been working." He chuckled darkly, before looking into Aly's blue eyes. "Maybe we were too arrogant to not ask any other Jedi we know for help."

[Alysele Cortess]

"Yet they at least got some leads. What did we do? Follow around what they told, and then be saved by one of them." She threw her cup away in anger. "I DID ask. The masters. Oh no, I should do this, it's my destiny, blah, blah, blah! They're blind, and unwilling to act!"

[Durasay Mixo]

"Then you must be more willing to act." There was almost an urging, an impressment in his voice. Durasay could feel his blood running hot, that darkness creeping up his spine. He tried to push it back down, not wanting to tap into it. Yet there it was, the smallest seed planted.

"Should we have gone to the Republic military for support? That seems to be the one area where the Sith seem to have greater efficiency. The Sith Lords can command the military. The Jedi seem to be separate from it, and unwilling to take command when they should. It's cumbersome, and slow-moving. By the time something needs to be done, it is too late."

[Alysele Cortess]

Alysele looked down. "Maybe. Or maybe use military." She looked up at him. "I was proud... and it was my downfall." She let out a sigh. "Perhaps I am not worthy of this duty."

Her voice was small. She was tired. Not just physically. Just... everything. "Did you even sleep?"