Open Sullust What Follows

[Zathria]

OOC: Three days after the liberation of Sullust. Open to anyone. Not really looking for PvP, more of gritty story.​

Zathria sat heavily onto a bench outside the casualty collection point. While the battle to bring down the Sith base had ended, the work hadn't. Rooting out Sith loyalists and actual Sith had continued to cause casualties to mount among civilians, military, and paramilitary units alike.

She pulled down the rebreather on her face and rubbed her eyes. A whiff of acid-like ash immediately hit her nose and she was unpleasantly reminded why she'd had to wear this stupid mask for almost every moment of her time here.

She glanced down at her chrono to mentally mark the time. 15:32. Were it not for the rising and setting of the sun, she would have barely known what time of day it was. The Jedi that had remained or come in support had been in near-constant demand. Healers to tend to the wounded alongside the oversaturated doctors and medical droids, soldiers to help combat the remaining Sith, peacekeepers and mediators for helping with the transition. Time to eat was hard to come by and time to sleep was even scarcer.

Master Jedi, we have another one, she heard one of the Sullustans say as another emergency vehicle rolled up to the front of the intake tents.

Alright, coming, she said with a nod, pushing the mask back over her face again and forcing herself to her feet to head back inside.

 

[Jace Darklighter]

Jace had been mostly failing at the whole Force business. The training one's mind, sensing the world around him, kids half his age seemed to be having a much easier time of it than him. The others tried to encourage him, telling him to give it time, that it was just easier to pick up when you were younger. Soon enough he'd figure it out. And he got that, not being a hormonal teenager did have its advantages. One of them was understanding and accepting that this would probably be a slow and painful transition for him. He accepted that he would fail at things, but that didn't make it suck any less when he did.

He made up for that by trying to be useful. Coming to Sullust had been one such attempt. There was still some fighting going on, but they had made it pretty clear to him that his days of being a soldier were over. And he wasn't really going to be rushing in all on his own with a laser sword to act like a one man spec-ops unit. But there was more to do here, and part of what the Jedi were doing here was helping people. And while he wasn't much use as a healer, he could fly near about anything that had wings, and even some thing that didn't. So he had volunteered to man the rescue crafts. It took a delicate touch to transport the injured with enough speed to get them the care they needed before it was too late, while maintaining a smooth enough ride so as not to cause them more discomfort. That was something he could do.

The Master who he had brought over had warned him, it was tough, draining work. He hadn't thought much of it at the time. He had fought in wars, had seen death, he wasn't some snot faced padawan facing the real world for the firs time. But he had never seen anything like this. He had never had to deal with the aftermath of a battle, to come face to face with the collateral. This last trip had been particularly harrowing, and as he pulled up in front of the triage area, there was an uncharacteristic shake to his hands as he let go of the yolk.

"Two this time," he called out to the Jedi who seemed to be in charge as he lead the two hover stretchers into the tent, "they're in pretty bad shape. Sector 9 is mostly clear now, fight's wound down." He didn't get to say more as doctors and volunteers stepped in to take control of the stretchers and began guiding them towards the far side of the tent where multiple beds lay waiting. He didn't stop moving, letting them prep the injured for observation and instead stepping up to the Jedi. "They're Sith soldiers," he said softly to her, unsure of how the others would respond to the news, "fresh recruits I think. Fight's over because their commander abandoned them and fled. None of the locals wanted to offer them help. But they're just kids, even younger than some of the brats at the temple. I..I couldn't just leave them there to die." He looked down to notice it once more, his hands shaking. He balled them into fists and looked up at the Jedi once more. "You're going to help them, right?"

As he said, he wasn't good at this whole Jedi business. But this, this felt right.

@Phoenix

 

[Alexandria Voran]

The Light flowed from Alex’s hands. She sat with her eyes closed, palms touching the burned chest before her. Her mind bouncing through the damaged cells. The body knew what it should be, it knew something was wrong, but the body healed slowly…sometimes never at all. Balance was the body healed and whole. The Light sought balance. With proper direction, the Force would set right what the body could not. It was tiring work for even the most skilled healers. If the injured did not have the energy to heal on their own, the Force need strength from somewhere…that strength often came from the Jedi.

Master Alexandria Voran had spent the better part of the day offering the injury her strength. Even now, the Force borrowed from her to repair the burned and ruined cells. She was tired, bordering on exhausted…she did not much care. Alex was a healer first and foremost. Her true talents lay in fixing those pains few others could repair. When the call had gone out for aid to Sullust after the liberation, she had not delayed. The Order was becoming terrifying militant, trending in a direction she barely understood. Worst…Alex knew she was part of the problem. Too easily she now slipped into combat, even seeking it out. That was not who she was or who she wanted to be. She preached leading by example and took her own advice.

The fighting did not really stop with the “defeat” of the Sith. There were still pockets of dwindling resistance throughout Sullust. Since her arrival, a few days ago, Alex had been pushing to save as many of the injured as possible. Her body would not hold forever, but the Order owed these people. They had failed on Sullust once and their failure wrought all the pain that followed. Alex’s mind slowly returned to her body as the burns nearly healed. That would be enough to stop the worst problems. She stood slowly, nodding to the nurse beside her. “He’ll still need antiseptic and dressing, but the worst concern for infection is gone.” Her eyes scanned for her next patient. That was when she heard the familiar voice. Jace and Sith. What trouble had young Darklighter found himself in now. Brushing the ash from her robes, she adjusted her mask, too tired to wash away the acrid air with the Force. Alex rubbed the sleep from her eyes and headed towards the commotion.

@Phoenix @Wit

 

[Zathria]

Zathria made her way over to where the two new patients came in. Neither Jace nor Master Voran were Jedi she had known well before this, but after three days of working side by side with the pair as they healed and transported patients, she felt they were kindred spirits brought together by the fires of exhaustion and war.

She listened to Jace's intake report and nodded. Medical personnel started scrambling to help the pair of wounded, and a glance over told him that Jace wasn't wrong. They really were just kids. She wasn't even sure they were over eighteen yet, perhaps members of the Sith Youth program. If they were Acolytes they would require an extra set of eyes on them.

Her eyes scanned down their bodies to assess the remainder of the wounds. One had multiple blaster wounds to the arms and torso and the other looked as if his lower body had fallen into one of the Sullust lava pools. She doubted they'd be capable of much fighting, Force-sensitive or not.

We treat people, not uniforms, she reassured him. Regardless of how she felt about them as people, what they fought for, or how they'd been injured, they would be treated just as anyone else. Even as she said it, she thought of how short they were on medical supplies. They didn't even hav enough to go around for the wounded they already had, which was why the doctors had been crutching on the Jedi so much, and the fact that treating these two might steal from rebel fighters tugged at her mind.

Doesn't matter, she reminded herself. Doesn't matter.

Are you heading out again? If not, we could use someone to keep watch on them, she said. Even wounded as they were, she didn't want to risk something going wrong. She also sensed that Jace had some certain investment in the pair, though exactly why she wasn't sure.

She turned to see the Jedi Master approach and stepped back a bit to make room for the woman in the small huddle.

Master Voran. You want lava burns or blaster burns? she asked, motioning with her head toward the pair of new intake. The physicians would stabilize the patients so they didn't expire in the next few minutes, but it would likely be on the Jedi to heal their wounds enough to make sure they didn't die in the subsequent days.

@Wit @Valen Pelora

 

[Vahn Berand]

Vahn collapsed into a seated position nearby to one of the medical tents that had been set up. He had one hand draped over his knee, his lightsaber still dangling from his fingertips. If Master Voran were concerned for the militarization of the Order, Vahn was the very image of that movement. His armor and clothing were carbon scored, blackmarked and stained in places with the rusty remnants of blood. The main liberation of Sullust had truly been only the first action on the planet. There were many more small outposts like the one he had found just before the battle; packed full of men and material, all stranded, desperate and their fingers itching on their triggers. He’d tried to get them to surrender where he could, but just as often it descended to saber work. He also stank of old sweat and blood.

Exhaustion radiated from the young Knight. Everything else, from the frustration of the moment, to the lingering pain from the half dozen wounds cutting across his body were buried under a single smothering blanket of wooly fatigue. One or two regular medics and soldiers in his presence wobbled in place before righting themselves once more in confusion due to his mental fatigue leaking out like a sieve.

“Does anyone else feel like they have ants crawling around behind their eyes?” Vahn asked aloud to no one, to everyone. He’d been awake for days at this point, since before the operation and afterwards, with nary a catnap to beat back his fatigue. He seemed to be stitche together entirely by copious amounts of caff and stims at this point.

A small black and green BG unit rolled by, and bumped into his boot insistently. She twittered a concerned chord.

“I’m fine, Ralta. Just resting my eyes for a few minutes,” Vahn replied to the droid, which bleated angrily in response.

“No can do girl. Just got some reports of lingering Sith patrols out on the eastern lava flats. They’ll need a Jedi there,” he replied, sending the little droid into a tizzy where she rolled around in a small, frustrated circle before him.

One eye cracked open. He heard a familiar voice. Jace? The pilot he’d seen at Byblos? He recognized Zathria's voice as well, if only that. Then he sensed Master Voran approaching, and he struggled to stand. He wobbled, wavering in place for a scant few moments before achieving some semblance of stability. He had to show some kind of decorum at least. Vahn winced as Ralta quickly rolled away to chirp some kind of angry complaint towards the Jedi Master. He didn't know if she was fluent in Droidspeak, but the little droid's frustration was palpable.

"Ignore her, Master Voran. She worries too much, I've still got coaxium in the drive," Vahn stated over the droid's protests. The little droid trilled angrily.

@Valen Pelora @Wit @Phoenix

 

[Jace Darklighter]

We treat people, not uniforms. On some level he had already known she would say that, or at least had hoped she would. He was starting to understand some of the Jedi, and though they were a diverse bunch, there were some things he saw in all of them. And a reverence for life was one of them. As Master Voran had told him, the Force seeks life, and the Jedi served the Force. Still, what he had seen out there, it had left him with many a doubt.

"I.." Jace began, staring at the kids he had brought in before finishing the sentence. "I'll stay. I'll keep an eye on them." He nodded to himself as if making a decision, which he was. He turned to glance at Zathria and nodded. "Thank you." He didn't say more, because the truth was he himself didn't know what he was thanking her for. Agreeing to treat them, or not berating him for bringing them here, or for letting him stay. Maybe all of it.

That was when Master Voran joined them, and like Zathria he took a step back so that they weren't all crowded together, at which point he spotted Vahn. "Master, Vahn." He greeted them with a weak smile and a nod, before letting the two healers talk without interruptions. He would ultimately have to say something to someone about what had happened, but it could wait till after the two were stabilized. It wasn't that he worried for the healers and doctors in the tent, but rather the two injured soldiers. And at the moment a tent full of Jedi was probably the best place for them.

@Phoenix @Valen Pelora @The Steel Stag

 

[Alexandria Voran]

Thump. Thump. Thump. Alex’s heartbeat thrummed between her eyes. She pressed her fingers against closed eye lids while joining the small circle of Jedi…a headache from overextension building. A weary smile spread out beneath her mask. Hopefully, Zathria and Jace could see the crinkle of her cheeks. She was about to speak when some very loud beeping and whirring interrupted her thoughts. The droid was crackling on about something. Alex’s droid left enough to be desired, but she understood the gist. Her gaze shifted to Vahn. She folded her arms before tilting her head to the side. From the reports, Vahn and Zathria had both fought bravely during the liberation. Vahn looked far worse for the wear.

“No.” Alex’s voice was flat. “You really don’t.” She sighed and raised a hand. Behave. “It’s not a criticism, we are all tired and we all want to help…but we are no good to these people if we can barely stand.” She used her best wise Jedi Master voice. “Get some rest. We aren’t going anywhere.” Her eyes flicked down to the injured. The wounds were as bad as any she had seen yet. Wearily, she turned to Zathria. “Lava burns.” Deep breaths. Alex slowly knelt down to place her hands on the injured man. Physical contact was not always necessary, but it help her ground herself. “Jace…help Zathria.” The Morellian Master shot Vahn another look. “Be good.” She closed her eyes and dove into the Force.

The injuries were worse than she could have expected. Despite pain medication, the very body felt as if it was on fire. Alex pushed deeper into the Force. She brought her full strength forward. Whatever energy remained would be poured forth. Her hands began to glow softly again while she set to work. Focus. Her mind rippled through the injured man, snagging on something dark…perilous...unnatural Her eyes snapped open for a moment. “Acolyte.”

@Wit @The Steel Stag @Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Vahn's droid came rolling over beeping something that Zathria didn't understand, but based on Master Voran's response she took it to mean that the droid was concerned about Vahn's current state.

Master Voran looked as exhausted as any of them, but onward she plodded anyway. They all did. There weren't any other choices right now, but the Jedi Master was right: they couldn't help anyone if they could all barely stand.

Are you wounded? she asked with a frown, motioning to the dried blood on Vahn's armor. Of course it was just as likely - perhaps more so - that it was someone else's blood, but one needed to be certain.

She gave a nod back to the Jedi Master as she "claimed" the lava burns. Will do, she said in a tone that tried to suppress the sigh that nearly came with it.

She moved over to the side of the wounded man, and pushed her way between the nurses who were stripping the patient to find the sites of injury.

Left shoulder, left abdomen, right anterior thigh, right upper chest, she tallied up the blaster wounds. Blood oozed from below the blackened flesh as she checked under the field patches put in place. He needed a surgeon, and even then Zathria doubted he'd live.

She took a deep breath and let her hands hover over the chest wound first, focusing on each of the cells and the tissue that was there.

But her concentration was broken by screaming.

What is he doing in here?! she heard one of the other patients yelling. He killed my best friend! Get him out of here, Sith scum! He doesn't deserve to be treated! Let him die! the man started screaming. Evidently he'd been on the Rebel side of the conflict at the same location and recognized one of the two incoming patients.

Can you... she said, nodding her head with urgency toward the patient who was now in a rage, hoping that Jace, Vahn, or both would help talk the man down.

@Wit @The Steel Stag @Valen Pelora

 

[Vahn Berand]

Acolyte.

The word sent a surging current through his body that burned away the fatigue. In a moment, he had his saber in a defensive grasp, moments from ignition. But then he saw the Sith was still wounded, incapable of even putting up a fight and he sighed, calming himself.

This fact was lost on the Sullustan who started shouting in anger, cursing at the wounded Acolyte. Vahn quickly rounded on him and put his own body between the Acolyte and the wounded man. A medic approached with an air-hypo of some sort of sedative, but Vahn waved them away.

“Easy, easy friend,” Vahn stated, and he forced a hand against the rebel Sullustan’s chest. He kept a firm pressure, pinning the man back down onto the medical cot. The knight would be recognizable as one of the Jedi who fought on the front lines during the rebellion and after, he’d earned an amount of social currency with the fighters.

“We need to get him into a proper state if we’re going to question him,” he half-lied. Jedi were supposed to help people; it often mattered little who they were helping, but it was true they would likely interrogate this new Sith captive. “If his guts are hanging out and he dies mid question we’re not going to tell where the rest of the Sith scum are hiding, will we?”

“Even still, the bastard deserves to die, he killed Narrik. He had a kid on the way, now, now…” The fighter tried to surge upwards, and Vahn put his weight down to keep him pinned.

When Vahn let his guard down, he was often like an emotional sieve. You could feel the tides of his mental state from across a starship. In this moment he let his guard down, just a touch, a gate in a wall of mental defenses that allowed his mind to touch the Sullustan’s.

“Don’t worry. He’ll get what’s coming to him. You’ll make sure -we’ll make sure Narrik’s kid is taken care of. It’s been a long few days, hasn’t it?” he explained as his exhaustion and fatigue rolled into the rebel fighter. He resisted at first, struggling against the Jedi’s hand, but the fatigue

“You’re doing this...this is you…. How are you even standing?” the Sullustan said as he faltered back onto the cot.

“Who knows,” Vahn replied. “But it makes you just want to lay down and sleep for a while, doesn’t it?” He pressed on with a subtle touch of the Force, easing his own exhaustion into every thought, every sense perception.

“Sort of….kind of…. Yes. No!”

“You want to fall asleep. You’ll feel better when you wake,” Vahn insisted, his eyes burning into the wounded man’s.

“I want….to fall...asleep…” The Sullustan said, his speech increasingly slurred, off focus. “Just for...a while…” he continued, but he was still present, lingering in that state between wakefullness and sleep.

“Jace. I’m barely holding on here, I could use some help making sure this guy isn’t going to wake up on us. I’ll walk you through, but I’m going to need some fresh juice,” Vahn said. His sloped posture, the slight angle of his knees, and the limp grip he still held on his saber all showed that he’d been worked down to the wire despite his bravado earlier.

@Valen Pelora @Wit @Phoenix

 

[Jace Darklighter]

Jace was a silent observer as Master Voran gently yet firmly put her foot down regarding Vahn's need for a rest. He had to agree, the man did look completely spent, and he had to commend the man for wanting to continue. Beanie might have thought otherwise, thinking it foolish that he was pushing himself so hard, throwing up some stupid statistic about lower efficiency and the impact it had on a mission's outcome. But from the little Jace had learned of the man from their one indirect encounter on Byblos that had resulted in his joining the Order, and now on Sullust, he liked the man. Even respected. All of them for that matter, he hadn't been sure what to expect from the Jedi, and while some had more than a few tendencies that he expected to become an irritant over time, he had found little to make not feel a certain degree of respect for them. At least the ones he had met so far. He was sure there were a few black sheep hidden away somewhere, or maybe he was there to fill that quota.

He followed Zathria to the kid with the blaster wounds, staying out of her way but close enough to help out if needed. For now he did what he had started to become very good at since joining the Jedi, observe. That was till all hell broke loose. He assessed the sitaution quickly, it was something you learned pretty early on as a pilot, and took action. Zathria was working on the kid, Master Voran was with the other, and Vahn was barely on his feet. The best place for Jave was with him. He made his way over to the patient that Vahn was trying to placate, helping him hold the man down.

"I.." Jace was hesitant for a moment when Vahn asked for his help, his expriences with the Force had been less than spectacular so far, "I'll try. Tell me what to do." He glanced around at the others, still torn between whether or not to tell them what had happened. But this incident had forced his hand, if this was any indication things could get a lot worse.

"We should be prepared for more." He looked from Voran to Zathria and then back to Vahn. "It's much worse out there. These two were lying passed out on the ground when one of the locals tried to stab them, I had to basically fight them off to save their lives. If word spreads, if they know where I went, I might have brought down a whole world of pain on everyone's head."

@Phoenix @Valen Pelora @The Steel Stag

 

[Alexandria Voran]

A part of Alex’s mind was dimly aware of the chaos that was ensuing around her. She trusted the others. Vahn may have been exhausted but he knew what he was doing. Jace had a good heart and Zathria was dutiful to nearly a fault. She placed her faith in them. Her focus was needed on the dying man before her. His body was truly spent, still searing with the pain. His very cells vibrated hotly. Oh…this was a mess. Alex ignored the tangled darkness beating in his heart. The Darkside corrupted but not in the maniacal fashion they taught. It was not quick and not always complete. This young Sith’s failing body was not brought on by the Darkside. She quickly returned her attention to the burns.

She just needed to buy enough time for medicine to save him. Not an easy task. The Force flow easily from her…touching the worst of the damage. The Light wished to set it right, but the boy had nothing to give. His body was spent and broken. Who do you want to be Alex? The Jedi who swore to Manat her ideals held firm? Or the women who ripped into Asminys mind because it had to be done? She was meant to be a teacher, to show the path. In that moment, the choice was easy. Her strength flowed into the Acolyte. Her body knit the cells back together…turning lava savaged flesh new. Slowly, the body healed, the pain lessened, and she retreated back into her mind. Alex opened her eyes…a wave of exhausting slamming against her. She was about to do exactly what she had warned Vahn against. The Jedi Master caught only the end of Jace’s words.

Her mind stretched out in the Force. She could feel anger boiling…growing…great. “Too late…they are looking for them.” Hands on her knees she stood very slowly. “Zathria must finish her work.” She took a deep breath. Her voice was calm, her face smooth. “The locals are in pain and they rightfully hate the Sith.” She gestured at the injured Darksiders. “However, we will not let them kill these men in cold blood.” Her voice grew to steel again. “I do not care what they have done, that is not who we are.” Deep breaths Alex. “We need to move them and calm the crowd.” She shot a look at Vahn. “Looks like you’ll be avoiding that rest after all.” She almost smiled. Almost.

@Wit @Phoenix @The Steel Stag

 

[Zathria]

Zathria focused on the blaster wound, beginning to close it while the nurses worked on the other injuries. The man - or more accurately the boy - was in astoundingly bad shape, but she worked anyway.

She let the Force flow through her like a conduit. This world was still saturated in the residual darkness of the Sith that had been here for years, and it seemed to resist her. She let it flow through her like a filter, expunging the darkness from it as it passed through her and into the patient. It was a taxing process and one that made her skin crawl ever so slightly. Hints of memories and anger plucked at the edges of her mind, though none of it came from her.

The first wound began to close up as a beeping from the heart monitor became more constant. The other injuries were taking their toll and the patient's heart had stopped. Regular medical crew scrambled to the bedside, and Zathria reached out with the Force to try to keep his heart beating against all nature.

Minute after minute ticked by before the resuscitation efforts were finally called. The patient was lost, and Zathria felt it like a blow to the stomach. She had seen it happen before and would see it again, but there was a weight and severity to it that never really became normal.

Her first slammed down on the table nearby with an angry thump before she recomposed herself with a deep breath, pushing down and away the anger she felt. She should have been faster. She could have done more. This was her fault.

She tried to compose herself as she made her way over to the others.

Are we going to have a full riot on our hands? she asked, mind not really fully focused on what was being said. Something about more people coming and moving the patients... or rather patient.

@Valen Pelora @The Steel Stag @Wit

 

[Alexandria Voran]

For whatever reason Vahn and Jace did not move. Alex frowned. Thankfully, Zathria continued to manage to impress. Her eyes flicked quickly to the table. Gone. They could not save them all. The spike of regret still clung to Zathria in the Force. She could say something, but it would not change how the young Jedi felt. Instead, Alex simply met her eyes and nodded slowly. She understood that feeling. One part of your mind was logical and the other wasn’t. No matter what, they had to march on. The

Force was humming darkly. “Yes.” A simple answer to a very complex question. “I sincerely doubt we are going to be able to make them understand why these lives are worth saving.” She knew a losing proposition when she heard one. The last thing they wanted was more violence with Jedi at the center. “Their planet has been through two difficult battles and an occupation...these are their enemies.” The Force continued to bubble with growing rage. “Zathria, if you can find somewhere to take the injured, I will do my best to calm the situation as long as I can. I do not want to see any of you if this becomes violent. You have done enough fighting.” It was her turn to take the risk.

Alex took a deep breath. She had very little strength remaining. She pushed every ounce of that strength in the Force. The Light burst alive in her heart. She often resisted the urge to influence minds directly, she found the practice morally distasteful. There were times the minds of the masses needed to be massaged. Alex showed calm into the Force, pushing hard against the boiling anger. It was not as successful as she would have hoped. She was tired, the anger was powerful, and it was growing. Alex continued to wade towards the growing crowd.

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria wanted to stomp her hurl something across the room or scream or cry. Anything to let out the seething frustration she was feeling. It was un-Jedi. There were people around. She reminded herself that this wasn't the time or place and it wasn't the proper response.

I'll move them, she said stiffly. This isn't you. You're tired. Stay focused. Have your break down in private, she thought to herself. It was all she could do to keep herself together at this point.

She headed over to the acolyte and started moving his bed. The stretcher didn't have repulsors and used old-fashioned wheels, which would make moving him harder. She cast a quick glance around the room before pushing him toward one of the nurses. The woman was someone that Zathria had gotten to know well over the last few days and she knew she wouldn't let her patient be hurt.

Keep him sedated, she said, checking the dosage. She turned back to look over her shoulder again. Something was off with Master Voran. They were all tired. That was probably it. Still...

She headed over to step near the other woman.

Master, are you okay? she asked, voice hushed. The other woman seemed to swirl with frustration, maybe even anger. It seemed like a poor state of mind to engage with an angry mob. But then, was Zathria in any better state? Running seemed appealing, but it also seemed like not the Jedi way.

@Wit @The Steel Stag @Valen Pelora

 

[Alexandria Voran]

An unseen war raged around the wounded. The peace Alex worked to pour into the Force rippling against the anger of the mob. She was not winning. The Jedi Master considered her talents in the Force to be her strength. She was particularly skilled a healing and arts of the mind. Alex failed to recognize her own limits. Her attempts to influence the minds of dozens were failing, she tempered some hearts, but the pain vibrated back…flooding her own senses. There was anger in her heart. Anger that should not be there. She knew it for the Sullust people’s pain, but it latched onto her soul, finding grief she thought long buried. Not good. This served no one. Not if she failed to control herself. Alex was broken from her concentration by Zathria’s voice.

Her eyes met the young Jedi’s. The Knight was in no better state. “No, I am not.” There were some in their ranks who thought it best to conceal their failures. If they were to be examples to the Order, should not they be shinning examples? What Alex believed was much different. Admit your failures and learn from them, so that the next generation of Jedi do not make the same mistakes. Show them you are not perfect. “Influencing the minds of others can be a two-way street if you are not careful. Your mind can become open to their thoughts and suggestions.”

She shook her head slowly. “It was a mistake for me to try this. They are too many and I am too tired…all I have done is let their anger seep into me.” Her eyes swept around the gathering. Cries of finding the Sith started to rise. Thankfully, Zathria had moved their patients away. Still…it was a terrible sign. “We are not leaving, but we may need to use more traditional means.” Alex raised her voice. “They aren’t here. You won’t find what you’re looking for.” The mod seemed to notice the Jedi for the first time.

@Phoenix

 

[Zathria]

Zathria listened to Master Voran, and found herself almost more concerned for the other Jedi than the mob. Almost. They needed to get these people under control, and the Jedi alone wouldn't be able to make it happen.

I... see, she said. It was a truncated answer, but there simply wasn't time for more. Zathria reached out to the Force and probed those nearby. Not attempting to influence their minds, but simply to gain a better understanding.

She saw the flashes of anger from the people here. The pain they had suffered from the Sith. The deaths they had seen. She shut her mind off to it, not because she didn't want to help, but because that couldn't be the way to help.

I'm going to get the Captain, she said, placing a hand momentarily on Master Voran's arm to gain her attention. The Captain was a man who had a great deal of pull within the military, he had become a leader of the people, and he was a fair man.

@Valen Pelora

 

[Vahn Berand]

Vahn’s eyes flicked from the man on the bed towards where he felt the pain and fury welling up outside. Great. Now we have a clock.

“Focus on me, not on the wounded. Not on the situation broiling up outside. We can deal with that when we deal with this man. We can’t have a riot broil up inside as well. Master Voran and Zathiria are doing their best, so lets do ours as well.” Vahn’s voice was worn thin like scratched parchment, but calm, just barely quiet enough for Jace to hear.

He took the young Jedi’s hand in his, and pressed both down forcefully on the wounded Sullustan’s chest to keep him still. Vahn took a breath, and focused on easing his guard. Over the years he had become adept at building up barriers around the currents of his mind during times of crisis; necessary levies needed to plug up the mesh-like nature of his emotions. He was decidedly less proficient at tearing the walls down in moments when he needed to be guarded.

His mind opened up to Jace, his anxieties, every drop of exhaustion exposed to the younger Jedi. The steadily growing spike of urgency ribboned his thoughts, drawing attention to itself like counting your pulse through a wound. Then, they receded. Suddenly there was peace, warmth pushing forward as a tide, sweeping over his fatigue and forming a substrate between the three minds. At the source, a gleaming set of memories, experiences rooted in place as a glacier. And then, an echo of a thought. I believed in her, and she believed in me.

“Your thoughts are my thoughts. My thoughts are your thoughts. The Force binds us, penetrates us. Differences in time, in extension, are illusory. Pour your thoughts into me, your will into mine. Feel the shape of my thoughts. Don’t think, just feel.”

Jace would be, should be able to follow his thoughts, the shape of his will driving deep as a river charting its own path into the Sullustan’s mind. Sleep. Sleep and forget. Forget your troubles, ease your mind. Allow yourself this moment, you’ve earned it.

@Wit @Phoenix @Valen Pelora

 

[Alexandria Voran]

Alex nodded. “Yes, get the Captain.” Her face scrunching. She could feel the concern. “I’m fine.” That was mostly true. The worst of the anger had washed away. Whatever strength remained she used to fold her mind behind tall mental barriers. No need for that to happen again. As Zathria walked away, the crowd continued to gather around her. Alex could feel Vahn pressing against the minds around her. She flicked her own thoughts against his. “Not sleep…calm.” Putting the entire crowd to sleep would be impossible. Calming the mob as she spoke was much more realistic. The ringleader of the Sullustan’s stepped forward. “Step aside Jedi, the Sith are our prisoners.” A chorus of jeers rang out. Alex forced calm into her voice.

“They are but hurting them will not undo what you have been through. It will only cause more pain.” That seemed to hit home for a moment. She could feel a slight shift in the crowd. “We’ll decide what will help.” Another cheer but less enthusiastic. “I can’t let you do that.” The ring leader stepped forward, going to shove past Alex. She raised a hand, gently pushing him backward. The rage that crossed his face spiked hot in the Force. “You left us to rot once Jedi…we’ll handle this ourselves. Now step aside!”

Her face remained perfectly still. Her heartbeat even and breath slow. She raised a hand towards Vahn. “That man and others here risked their lives to free Sullust. They have not left since the battle ended. They just want peace.” She could feel her words were sinking in with the crowd, but not the ringleader. He remained completely unconceived. “They shouldn’t have left the first time.” He went to shoulder past her again and again Alex stepped in his way. “I won’t move.” That was likely close to the last straw. Anger spiked again and the man’s hands balled into fists. Where was Zathria?

@Phoenix @The Steel Stag