He was out of breath already, and his leg was bleeding. The rain began to pour and he ducked into an alley to catch his breath. He commanded the Force, but he didn’t quite master it to where he could completely suppress his signature while injured. He actually used the Force to fling his medpack at someone’s head, and he was very much regretting the move now.
“Kriff,” He hissed as he slumped against the wall, looking down at the open cut on his leg. He knew he would have to turn to very painful means of cauterizing the wound - he had no way to stitch it up.
He could still hear sirens behind him from where Rangers were on the lookout for Sith. Eclipse and his people had failed, and he knew the Dark Lord would demand blood. Many Sith died, and Emryc couldn’t very well go back with his tail between his legs.
He began to catch his breath and tried to sense any other survivors. He needed a quick way off the planet since everyone else had scattered in various directions.