Events in the Southwest had taken a turn for the worst, with the shelling of the Spaceport forcing the withdrawal of immediate support for the Jedi in the region as the Trenzalore and support shuttles from the UAS Kelleran withdrew to avoid the prolonged shelling, and the activation of once dormant CIS Manufactories, supplying their foes with not only weaponry but droid reinforcements, the conflict was quickly turning into a war. Members of the Diplomatic Corps chose to remain behind alongside Guardians and members of SenNet to stabilize relations with the Vauzem and attempt to draw out local peace talks, if planetary peace talks could not succeed, they would at least attempt to prevent civilian centers from becoming battlegrounds again.
As dawn broke and the O.U.S.C. arrived, breaking the Vauzem picket, the War Councilor would seize upon the Vauzem’s confusion and order the dispersal of forces unnecessary to current ground actions to assist O.U.S.C. ground actions. At Mihoshi’s behest, the Jedi duo Waza Sunrider and Wenet C. Bannog, alongside the Padawan cohort would be airlifted via LAAT/i to the Army Support and Supply encampment, to provide material support for their troops and the locals affected by the ongoing conflict.
The encampment, temporarily coined Camp Tython, would serve as a bustling outpost, split into 3 sections, a temporary landing outpost for supply shuttles and craft, the military barracks and outpost proper, and a civilian encampment, designed to help refugees from the Eastern continent as they traveled toward the Central cities.
Wenet did not want to go to Camp Tython, she wanted to fight ”it’s what I do best” she had said, trying to convince her superiors to let her join the fight. But everyone could see was still shaken from what happened, even Wenet knew although she didn’t want to admit it. She hadn’t slept at all, how could she? With every explosion she heard she saw images of the scorched and shredded bodies flash by in her mind. She could still smell the burn and the blood, she could still hear the screams in her mind. She still saw Uharum’s lifeless body, or what’s was left of it, covered in dust lying in the middle of the street. She felt guilty but mostly she felt angry, she wanted to make things right. ”I have to do something!” she had said as tried her best to hold back her tears ”I can fight, you know that.. I can do things others can’t. I can sneak up behind them, they won’t see me coming!” she begged but the decision was made; Wenet was not fit to fight. ~*~
So there was, standing on the landing platform, watching the LAAT take off again after having just dropped her and the others off. ”it’s not fair… they’re making a mistake” she said to no one in particular. ”Wenet, come” she heard Waza say behind her. ”I have to do something” she said, referring to the ongoing fight. ”Wenet… violence is not the answer.” Waza replied as he gently tried to turn her to face him. ”really? There’s a bloody war going on over there!” Wenet replied as she pointed at the LAAT that disappeared into the clouds of smoke in the distance, ”Violence is the only answer for what they did!” she looked away again, she saw the group of Padawans being escorted into the camp. ”I want to help. I can fight. What am I going to do here?” ”there is plenty you can do here, you are so much more than just a weapon” Waza replied, ”Those kids need you.”
The Kushiban shook her head, ”They don’t need me, I got their friend killed. They are better off without me.” Waza sighed, ”Wenet, they will not let you or me for that matter, go. We are here now… so let’s just see what we can do to help here.” He wanted her to get off the landing platform, get her to focus on something else other than fighting. *”whatever” Wenet replied and turned around to begin her stride into Camp Tython. It saddened Waza to see his friend like this, broken and he worried what might happen if she continued to be led by her emotions.
”Are you coming or what?” the Kushiban called out when she noticed Waza wasn’t following her. The old man nodded and also made his way into the camp. The Padawans already were assigned tasks, some to assist the medics the others to simply comfort and calm the Quemerians that found shelter at the camp. Wenet walked through the camp, feeling lost, what was she supposed to do here?
“Wenet, let’s start by checking in with Jedi Elyon, she is a healer. If she is not in charge she can point us to where help is needed.” Waza walked next to his friend watching her fur ripple through various shades of reds and blacks.
After several minutes of walking Waza could not find Elyon, figuring she was on assignment he turned to Wenet, “Let’s just grab some bandages and supplies and carry them around to the different areas until someone needs them. Someone always need more.”
“I know you are feeling the rage and hatred of the ambush. We can work together to explore those feelings and not tap into the dark side. You must not give into the hate. Acting out with it, as your guiding feelings will take you to the dark side. Feeling those emotions are normal, you cannot just push them down and expect they will go away. We can talk them through and helping those here will bring you peace of service you can replace the hate you are feeling with love for others.”
Waza felt his words were not well received in the moment but knew she would eventually hear him. He also knew if she made a break for the war, he would go with her for he felt the same towards these soldiers. Although he knew the repercussions of the dark side, he felt the call of destruction and the power he could command to slay them all. He would have to watch her closely, when and if she tried to get away he would be right there with her. Waza opened his data pad quickly and downloaded any tactical information that was available of the invaders.
After several days of open warfare, the injured civilian and soldiers kept coming in. Waza could not sit by any longer. Wenet was turning further and further inward, her fur stayed a constant shade of red. He knew he needed to get her out of this camp and into the action, getting her out of her head.
“Wenet, I need you to come with me, make sure you have your weapons, we are going on a hunt for enemies.” Waza said collecting his things he headed to the street to wait for her to be ready to move out.
Artemis Suoh-Werd'la was not happy, to say the very least.
The half-Sephi felt as though she were being punished for her failure to tail the diplomat without being seen. Whilst intellectually, Artemis knew this was not the case, it certainly felt that way.
It didn’t help that the Vauzem had begun to utilize images of this very failure for their propaganda machine, insisting that she had been there to steal property or to subvert their efforts to ‘bring peace to Quermia’.
Thus, Artemis had been assigned to work with Aryn “Jade” Erinos-Magnuri — once, her father’s Sworn Sword and now her aunt by marriage — alongside the OUSC Army, setting up aid stations, moving crates of gear and sheepherding civilians out of harm’s way.
She yearned to be part of the battle, to be out there assisting her father and her wife on the frontlines, but that was not to be the case.
“Artemis? Art! Get your head out of the clouds,” Jade barked at the half-Sephi, bringing Artemis’ musings to an abrupt end. “I need you to transfer these crates to shuttle T7. Keep your eyes peeled, stay frosty and comm me the moment you encounter or notice signs of trouble. There shouldn’t be, but—”
“You never know what can happen,” Artemis finished the Mandalorian’s statement alongside her with a nod. Taking a momentary breath, the Huntress reached out with the Force, gently lifting the crates and directing them ahead of her.
Camp Tython was impressive, especially in how swiftly and efficiently it had been set up as a base. Soldiers and Jedi moved through the makeshift pathways for a variety of reasons, somehow managing to not run into each other in the chaos.
Artemis found her gaze drawn to an older male Jedi and a female Kushiban whose fur shifted from red, to black and back again. Even without spreading her senses, it was clear to see that the male was concerned for the Kushiban.
The Huntress shook her head and focused on her current mission: delivering supplies.
Jon Silvon walked up next to Artemis, a crate slung across one broad shoulder.
“Penny for your thoughts, Art.” At Artemis’ questioning look, he responded: “You’ve got a look on your face that says ‘I’m blaming myself right now.’ Or something to that effect.”
He lowered the crate at the foot of the shuttle, and adjusted his hat. “You shouldn’t. Ain’t nobody saw this coming. For my part, I expected to spend my tour on this,” he waved his hand to the landscape, “Delightful getaway sweet-talking business leader and casually slicing their records for blackmail. Yourself?”
“wait what?” Wenet’s furr fluctuated “what did you say?” she asked as she watched how Waza began to grab his things. “hunt for enemies?… out there?… but..” her ears flattened and she glanced back at the command centre of Camp Tython, “but we… I mean.. I.. am not allowed to fight” she said but saw that Waza had already made up his mind. He was ready to head out.
For days she had been quietly contemplating to just sneak out of camp and do what must be done. But at the same time she was held back by her own thoughts. Alot of ‘what if’s?’ kept popping into her little head reminding her of what had happened. But she couldn’t deny the anger she felt.
“Wait…” she said and quickly collected her things and joined Waza. “I’m ready” she said, knowing that they would get into a lot more trouble for disobeying the orders to remain at camp Tython.
The half-Sephi let out an explosive sigh as she released the Force grasp on her own crates once they were carefully on the ground. “That’s because it is my fault. I failed a mission assigned to me by Governor Suha'sen during the diplomatic meeting with the representatives of the Vauzem Dominion. I was supposed to tail a diplomatic aid, sneak into wherever the records themselves were kept and download an unaltered copy of the data. Instead, I got careless and was spotted by one of the cameras around the perimeter before the guard saw me. Originally, I was to serve as one of the Governor’s bodyguards alongside my wife, Ruana.”
She briefly stopped speaking, staring into the distance as she focused on the details of the mission. “In a way, you’re right. My mark gave no indication that he was close to his destination. The Vauzem prepared well and knew that we would attempt to verify the findings. Meanwhile, they’re using my image from that footage for all kinds of propaganda and speculation.”
Artemis gave another, quieter sigh. “I should get back to Jade to help with whatever the on-site Commander needs. Good luck out there, Jon. May the Force be with you.”
Jon tilted his head as he leaned back against the shuttle’s hull. He didn’t know Artemis well; the pair had only met during this mission. Still, he felt for her. The mission she described was as familiar to him as the back of his hand; he new intimately how easily they could backfire, and how spectacular the consequences could be when they did.
In a way, that kind of black ops mission was more dangerous than any warzone, even the one they were currently slogging through.
“Art,” he said before she could walk away, and when she turned to look at him he said quietly: “It’d be a hell of a cliche to say this war ain’t over yet, factual though it may be. Once we’re out of this hellfire and back in the frying pan, there’s gonna be oppurtunites to set things right. And I don’t know that the powers that be will wanna give you that shot if they see you moping about.”
He stood up and put a hand on the half-Sephi girl’s shoulder.
“Chin up kid. I know Tisto; second we’re through this current mess he’ll be putting together a SeNET squad to deal with those broadcasts, inlcuding the ones with your pretty face plastered all over ‘em. I’m gonna give him hell 'til he puts me on the job. If you want me to pull strings to get you on it and clear your own name, you need to stop letting yesterday weigh you down.”
“Whilst I appreciate the offer, I’ll let the situation play out as it will. Thank you for the kind words, though,” the Huntress replied after a long moment of contemplation, stepping out of the pathway to avoid a collision with someone who went running past them.
Artemis gave the Scoundrel a slightly rueful smile. “We had better get back to work. I know Jade will raise all kinds of hell if I’m not back at my station soon. See you around, Jon.”
The ground shakes as several artillery shells land near camp. Several balls of dust, dirt and gas erupt from where the shells landed. The Odanite Forces have escaped actual bombardment, but now face a different sort of threat. The nearby civilians have begun to panic.
Adenn looked at her twin sister with a grin, the two giants had managed to squeeze themselves in among the skids being sent to Camp Tython. “I know that Councillor Keibatsu sent us here, but Mother is going to be pissed.”
Xin, the calmer of the two, shrugged her elegant shoulders which shifted the heavy cloak she wore slightly. The differences between the Twins was as night and day as their attire. Adenn wore pure beskar armour and her sister little more than a set of robes favored by the Jedi. “What Mother does and does not do is her own affair, sister.”
Xin stood slowly and motioned to her sister who stood as well, the senses and emotions shared so evenly between them it was uncanny for anyone who watched them.
“For now, sister,” Xin began.
“It’s time to help.” Adenn finished.
The transport landed near the center of the camp in what seemed like a loading area. The two Nagai smiled as the sides of the shuttle opened up and Adenn pointed at their sister-in-law. “Think she upset Jade again?”
“Of a certainty. Our wayward sisters have a tendency to irritate Aunt Jade.” Xin murmured quietly to her twin.
The two exited the shuttle and gestured to several troopers near the shuttle. “Get those crates unloaded and delivered to the mess tent. The War Councillor has sent what aid she can at this time to help,” Adenn said with authority.
“Where it is needed.” Finished the other Twin. “See that everyone gets a hot meal.”
Messages delivered, the Suohs walked over to Artemis, grins open on their faces. As they stopped, they shook their heads.
“Where,”
“Is Aunt Jade? And,”
“Why are you doing menial chores?“
Wenet approached Waza, her fur fluctuating a kaleidoscope of colors showing her confusion added to her anger and sadness.
“I don’t understand old man, I figured you would be the one to follow orders, what are we doing?” Wenet asked as she approached the side entrance to the encampment.
“The Force has me compelled to be in this area, I need you by my side to deal with what the force is calling to me with.” Waza looked out to the city streets.
A feeling of dread and urgency filled all his senses.
“Wenet I don’t know what is coming but we should be here.”
Just as the words left his mouth explosions erupted as the camp was shelled, weapons landing in building, some exploding in the air. Just as the ground shook and debris and shrapnel flew in all directions; blaster bolts filled the air. Sephi soldiers rushed the entrance to camp Tython.
Wenet and Waza ignited their sabers. The soldier advance momentarily halted, they were told no one would oppose their taking the camp. Now there were two Jedi in the way.
With a scream of rage Wenet launched herself towards the soldiers and Waza advanced engaging the monsters that would attack a hospital.
Jon felt the echoes in the Force a heartbeat before the explosions rocked the camp. Instinct, old and ingrained, told him to hit the dirt, but something else, new and alien yet comforting and familiar, whispered that there was no immediate danger. He stayed standing. And so doing, he saw the way the civvies were starting to panic; the ones on the edges were jittery, looking to bolt, and he could see the heard mentality start to take over. He’d seen it before. A few on the outskirts would be the first to run, and then…
“Chaos,” he whispered. He ignored the questioning look Artemis gave him, and smiled instead. “What was it you were saying about getting back to work?”
The pirate jogged over the shocked and shaken group of civilians, surveying them. He saw one older woman, clutching a pair of children to her skirts, who looked the most ready to panic. An excellent place to start.
Jon gently but firmly placed one hand on the woman’s shoulder, and gave what he hoped was a comforting smile – a less… suggestive modification of his usual Roguish Grin (Trade Marked)
“Easy there Miss,” he said in a consoling tone, loud enough for his voice to carry to the rest of the group. “They’re a long way off. The Jedi are doing their job keeping the Dominion a way’s away. Runnin’ off now’s now in anyone’s best interest.”
“I’ll explain later,” Artemis called to the twins as she rushed toward the panicking civilians, well-aware that both were right behind her. She could see Jade headed toward the civilians from the other direction.
The half-Sephi had been about to aid Jon, but he seemed to have a handle on the small family. Instead, the Huntress veered off toward a young boy that looked both worried and confused, but nowhere near the level of panic of the others. Unlike the rest, the child seemed to be by himself.
He also seemed uncannily aware of his surroundings, turning toward Artemis the moment she approached. “Why are they shooting around the camp? Is their aim that bad?”
His follow-up question brought a small smile to the Huntress’ lips. “No, I believe that they’re intentionally firing around us as a scare tactic. They don’t want to harm your people, so they continue to look good on paper. Instead, they’re trying to send us into disarray by scaring people.”
The child stared at her seriously for a long moment, then nodded. “Do you hear the voice on the wind as well? It seems to like you.”
Artemis was momentarily flabbergasted at the off-the-rails comment, until she remembered that it was one of the ways those with untrained Force potential often described their uncanny senses and sense of precognition. “What do you mean, seems to like me? Also, I’m Artemis. What’s your name?”
“I’m Darius,” the boy mumbled, looking at her with wide pale blue eyes. “And it’s swirling around you, so it must like you.”
Over his head, the Huntress spotted Jade on her way over. The boy was describing Force Sight, one that normally required quite a bit of training and instinct. “It has always been with me, just as it has always been with you. Would you like to meet a friend of mine? She can help us locate your family.”
The humanoid boy gave his assent, though it looked as though he had dozens of questions lined up.
As people get to work calming the town, it has a noticeable effect. While there are still some individuals panicking, for now it seems that once again the Odanite Forces have managed to keep things under control. Perhaps this is the light at the end of the tunnel for this project.
BOOM as Wenet began to sprint another shell hit near by. WOOOSH blow7the tiny Kushiban back towards the camp. She rolled acrothe ground and eventually came to a full stop against a cracked wall. Dust and debries rained down on her and for a moment everything went black. “Wenet!….. Wenet!” she heard Waza’s muffled voice in the distance. Her ears were ringing, everything sounded muffled. When she finally opend her eyes, she saw the chaos, panicked civilians rushed towards the camp, hoping they could shelter there. Wenet got back onto her feet.
“Wenet!” she heard Waza again. When she looked she could see him in the distance engaging with the enemy. He struck one down with his lightsaber and as he turned he jabbed the other through the abdomen. “Wenet…there are more coming” he said but Wenet didn’t move, she froze at the sight and sounds of chaos. Images of shredded limbs flashed by in her mind, she could smell the blood, she could smell the burn and taste the dust. “no..no..no..” she said and stepped back. WOOOOSH… BOOM! another hit and more screams.. more imaged flashed by, the dead Botan padawn, she could smell their burned furr and flesh. “no.. no.. I can’t.., I can’t” the Kushiban began to panic. Her furr was no longer red from anger but a dark and dull greyish-blue, fear and sadness, guilt.. “I can’t do this Waza!” she called out at the man in the distance fighting off the enemy who was trying to get to camp. “get back to the camp Wenet.. help them” her yelled at her as he disappeared from view.
Wenet hesitated. She didn’t want to abandon him, but she couldn’t help him either. A woman holding a severly wounded child in her arms ran by. She was followed by another child covered in dust, crying “mama wait. Mama…” but the woman was running fast to get her other child to the camp for medical attention. “mama!!” the small boy screamed and fell. Wenet rushed towards him. *“come! I’ll get you to your mom!”
After reuniting the boy with his mother at the medcentre, Wenet stepped aside. She was still panting, every loud sound made her tiny body twitch. The chaos, the screaming wounded, the taste of blood in the air made her want to curl up and dissapear.
“let me take a look at that” a voice suddenly said, snapping her back to the present. “what?” Wenet replied surprised and saw a civilian looking down at her, a volunteer. “that is a nasty looking cut” they said and knelt down and reached for her forehead. In the panick she hadn’t even noticed she had a cut across her forehead. The furr surrounding it had turned black from the blood. The medic began to clean the wound, it stung. “are you ok?” they asked her. She wanted to say she wasn’t, but instead she lied “I’m fine. Just hit my head really bad.”
Thin blue fingers didn’t so much as twitch at the nearby shelling. Instead, they were steady, sure, pulling a needle through flesh to finish a final stitch. Her sanguine eyes were narrowed in absolute focus even as the medic tent around them shook. Sivall had spent her entire time here just like this, shied away from the battlefield. She was determined to prove she hadn’t failed as a medic, as a healer, as a servant to the people.
“There you go. Now rest, okay?” Her tone was terse as she wrapped bandages around the man’s torso she had stiched up.
The only response was a tired grunt.
The Chiss medic gave her patient a tight smile before moving away to wash her hands. Raven hair fell into her face as she vigorously scrubbed, eyes dutifully watching to make sure that she got every centimeter of her hands. This was good. Staying busy was good. It kept her mind from her failures, from the fact that Alex was somewhere in this hell and she could get a call at any minute, that he could be her next patient. A shaky breath escaped Siv’s lips as she pulled her hands from the sink and moved on to drying them so she could move onto the next injured person.
Assess. Triage. Tag. Stitch. Medicate. Repeat. Repeat, repeat, repeat.
Who’s bright idea was it to send her fresh into a warzone? Oh, right, hers.
War was not something she was unfamiliar with. Her time in Arcona had been filled with strife and war and field medicine. But then there was the fact that she had spent the last couple of months behind a desk, doing paperwork and getting rusty. Now she was a Quaestrix no longer, once again tossed into a world where she knew next to no one.
Sivall’s stomach turned and she approached the next makeshift cot. Head trauma, blown right iris, no pain reflex– civilian. Togorian. Teen. Indigo lips pulled back into a look of pain. So goddamn young. Those once steady pale fingers, who’s scarred surface now trembled softly, reached for the pulse she knew would be faintly there– but fading. Suspicions concerned, she flagged down one of the medical transports and placed a red tag that read “URGENT. TREAT IMMEDIATELY” on the kid’s chest.
“This one’s got a skull fracture and swelling! He needs to be moved to a hospital now!”
“We can’t! Not until the shelling stops! They could shoot down the ship!”
A hiss escaped Siv’s lips as she frantically searched around her for tools. Drilll… Drill drill drill… someone had to have a karking drill.
Meanwhile, the mortar shells continued to pepper the perimeter relentlessly and the civilians continued to teeter on the edge of panic. Seeing that their sister-in-law had gotten their Aunt Jade involved in speaking to a lone child, the twins’ identical gazes met and a series of ideas passed between the two without words spoken, merely small gestures that would have gone unnoticed by the unwary observer.
“Shall we, dear sister?” Adenn questioned almost loftily, blue-gray eyes sweeping the crowd that continued to grow more restless with each shell impact.
“Indeed, we shall,” Xin agreed softly, turning both hands palm toward the crowd from her waist to make the usage of her Force abilities less apparent.
The Mercenary took a deep breath, before speaking in a voice that carried over the shouts whilst retaining a serene quality. “Ladies and Gentleman, please do your best to remain calm to set an example for the young ones amongst us. The enemy does not wish to cause innocent casualties, otherwise those shells would have been on target.”
Whilst Adenn spoke to the crowd of civilians, the Sorceress focused on the power of the Force, projecting soothing energy to each and every being before them. Had she been paying attention, Xin would have shaken her head at just how blunt her twin could be, in both word and deed.
The medical effort done by the Odanite Forces seems to be well received. Many thanks are offered to those giving aid. It’s at this time however, a new threat emerges. It seems any screen that can is playing captured video of an Odanite “Assassin” attacking a diplomat and trying to steal data. How this began is a mystery, with several civilians claiming it just started playing without their input.