The Greatest Loss

[Hans Filo]

.

Siege of Coruscant
June 23rd, 6946 BBY
1748 Local time​

An artillery blow slammed into the ground 10 meters away from the trench, spraying dirt and blood onto the shellshocked soldiers currently laying in the hastily-made holes. Torrential rain poured onto them, soaking the troops to their very bones, and forcing them to lay in muddy puddles as they awaited their next orders.

On this side of the trenches were 26 troops--15 men and 11 women--each more green-faced than the last, except for one: Hans Filo. The Shi'ido in his 40s was holding to his blaster casually, a contrast from the white-knuckled grip of his comrades. He whistled a tune passively as the rumbles of battle shook the battlefield around them. To his right, a man vomited.

"Hey," said Hans, craning his head to look toward the soldier next to him. "Chin up, and eyes on the prize, alright?" He spoke amicably, an encouraging smile on his face as he finished his sentence. The man nodded shakily, feeling a bit better.

Then came the call. One of their Exile overlord, a Twi'lek woman wielding a red crossguard lightsaber, yelled as loud as she could, the Force carrying her voice through the battlefield.

"Charge!"

And just like that, dozens of men and women, each decked out in the same drab uniform, each tattered in its own unique way, raised themselves up, their hands and boots sliding through the slick dirt as they charged, blaster fire immediately ensuing. The man next to Hans fell immediately, a bolt catching him in the right shoulder, then in the left, then in the head, and finally in the chest, although he was already dead by the first. The Shi'ido moved on, nearly not noticing the death.

In his own world, Hans charged through the battlefield, weaving in and out of cover as blaster fire whizzed past him. The sides of his clothing sported cuts and holes, the byproduct of shots that had missed, but scorched him. Between the cold rain and the adrenaline pouring through him, the man simply did not feel the burning sensation of all the scratches around his body. Instead, he was focused on shooting.

He laid down suppressing fire as he moved, always either on his feet and charging, or behind cover and shooting. He had taken down 3 enemy troops so far, 1 of them being a Jedi. He could not estimate the losses on neither side, and instead chalked it up simply: whoever had died had died, and there was nothing to do about it now.

The battle carried on as such for the better part of an hour, the Exiles slowly gaining ground until they began poking in to village territory. The fighting shifted from trench to urban warfare, with soldiers weaving in and out of buildings, taking cover behind overturned trash cans and defunct land speeders.

Hans dashed into his 3rd building since they had begun taking the city, his blaster in hand. It was time to reload once more.

As he ran in, he slammed into a figure. Reaching for his knife, the Shi'ido looked up, then stopped. The blaster fire and screaming became muted, his eyes fixed on the woman in front of him. She had taken on another form, but he would recognized her anywhere.

"A-Aleera?" he asked, his cheery air replaced with shock.

@TheBrokenMadMan

 

[The Doctor]

"IT, agh! It hurts!!"

"I know brother, just hold on and I'll have you patched up right quick!"

You would think that Coruscant couldn't end up looking like a conventional battlefield, what with the leveled platforms and the duracrete surfaces engulfing the planet wide cityscape. Somehow though, here they were, Aleera Dusfraine, Jedi Healer, and Jafkin Paratus, newly minted Jedi Knight, cowering in a damn crater as fire and fury rained down all upon them, incinerating and blasting anyone that got near their little hidey hole. The Knight had taken a hit to his side, bleeding out, but she had her kolto injections with her, so she was able to make short work of it if he would just stop squirming. "Brother, you will die if you don't lay still!" She groaned, trying to hold him down as he shook. "I can't help it, it hurts too much!" He pouted, a hair length away from bursting into tears.

Aleera couldn't really blame the poor boy, he wasn't used to the battle or the pain, it wasn't too long ago that he was just practicing her swordsmanship, a lowly youngling. He was barely older than 14, but the Jedi had shoved a saber in his hand and told him to fight, so he did, and dutifully. All the same, he couldn't take this forever, she could see the scars already forming behind his head, in the recesses of his soul. Finally, he was able to stay still long enough for her to jam the shot into his chest, forcing a pained scream to holler from his lips and echo into the sky. "Stay here!! I'll get reinforcements!" She ordered, shoving his saber back into his hand as he nodded.

A presence at the threshold of the crater caught her eye, and her head shot up. There was an enemy there, and he would surely kill them if he saw them, so she beat him to it, her saber pike jumping to her hand and shooting up, running through whoever it was. The Slave Trooper tumbled into the hole as Aleera leapt out, breaking into a sprint as her pike blurred in her hands, deflecting shot after shot whilst she moved from cover to cover, just trying to stay alive. There was a blaster encampment inside a small hovel that was cobbled together on the frontline, she needed to take it out or else no reinforcements would get through to help Jafkin. She peeked up over her cover, brushing some chalk white hair from her head as she examined the scene.

The Exiles were pushing forwards, the encampment was their rally point, but they were getting cut down in equal measure. She had a chance when it stopped to reloa, but it was barely be a few seconds. She crouched down low, pooling the force into her feet and hands as she steeled herself, the pound of her each blaster shot reverberating into her mind. RakaRakaRakaRakaRakaRa-

A pause. Now!!

The Force exploded from her limbs, shooting the Jedi forward meters at a time, bringing a small whirlpool of water with herself as she smashed through the small window, her pike sheering the blaster in half. The three exiles inside were missing their feet with one swipe, another, moving upward, extinguishing their lights from this world. Aleera was about to call it a mission, but one last presence burst in behind her, and her pike moved quickly. She barely managed to stop it as she whirled around and her soul felt their own click within her, halting her body. This Exile, he was familiar...no, not familiar...he was family.

"H-Hans...?"