A Somber Homecoming (Silver Jedi Order)

[Gir Quee]

Tercel-class Heavy Cruiser Black Sword, entering orbit over Voss

A dull and subdued chatter filled the bridge of the Black Sword as the cruiser approached Voss. More and more com traffic filtered into the bridge, painting a painful picture of the battle for Mirial. Gir leaned up against the railing around a holo-projector as it displayed a visage of the distant desert world. His mind wandered even as his eyes gazed up and down Mirial. War rarely was pretty or glorious, it seemed to be even less so with the bitter pill of defeat. Yet Gir had to remember that even in battles when he and his forces had been victorious, there frequently would be times of grief for fallen comrades and destroyed opportunities as well. No, people rarely left conflicts unscathed regardless if they won or lost.

"Well, what do you make of it?" asked Captain Hobbs, walking down from one of the consoles.

"Hard to say," said Gir, turning his face towards the other man, "I'm sure that we can get a better picture as more and more of them come in."

Hobbs solemnly nodded, "Well, at least there are a good number of survivors."

Gir nodded, "Something to be thankful for. And people who can teach us new things."

Gir's last encounter with the Sith in the area had been far different. What had once seemed to be loose grassroots network of independent Sith in the Stygian Caldera had apparently become much more organized since his time spent establishing the consulship on Hast. They had evolved, and so would he. But the first step to that was understanding who they were. And that meant spending time with those had faced them down on the battlefield.

"I'm going to take the Java down there and start talking to people," said Gir, "I trust that you can handle things up here."

Hobbs nodded, "I'll keep you informed if we come across anything."

 

[Stephanie Swail]

Taking a minute to compose herself, reciting an old Hapan poem in her head to calm her thinking, Stephanie nodded and pulled back away from the Commander, nodding and wiping her eyes, exhaling and setting her emotion.

She turned to the airfield, the hand of her Ranger friend on a shoulder, and surveyed what was happening. Aircraft was coming in, the fighters who made it back were flying to their own hangars. Soldiers returned, healers were called out to bring in the wounded, and the Knights were there to take in the Mirlian's who had come to Voss.

Up in the sky, a few larger craft were heading to the shipyards and seemed to be providing cover for the smaller ships. Even returning home, their defenses were up. These were troubling times

"Just another reality of war, Miss Swail."

Stephanie didn't know what to say. She just looked up for a few minutes.

[member="Yuroic Xeraic"] could be heard shouting from where she stood. Not specifically, but she knew he was shouting about something. Such a sad thing to see, what war does to good people. She looked towards the chaos, and then surveyed others. Master [member="Valae Kitra"] and the soldier [member="Valkren Calderon"] were in close conversation. Part of her wondered if she'd generally let her Master down. She hadn't touched base with her during the landing on Mirial. Away from them, she heard the roar of engines cutting out and saw [member="Cassius Droma"] and a couple of his pilots disembark. She smiled slightly; it was good to see some familiar faces making it back in one piece.

"What happens now. Do we wait to invade again, or to be invaded? We are on the Devil's doorstep, and the storm is only just beginning to swell. We are in no state to fight this war alone."

She turned and nodded to the Commander for her to see her unit, to which she returned the nod, winked, and walked back to her gunship.

Stephanie started a slow walk across the bustling landing pad, ready to do what she could, however she could.

 

[Jairdain]

Jairdain felt the glare through the Force as Yuroic spoke to her. She rushed to his side as he fell to the ground. Wrapping her arms around him she fruitlessly attempted to calm him down. He blamed Master Arisa for her failure to prepare them for the confrontation fully. She shook her head at his words, but there was a need in him to get them out.

Her gods knew she had been there before. He pulled away from her and attempted to make his way to Valae. The knight stood up to follow him and attempted to stop him from hurting himself further.

A brief telepathic message reached her that was directed at Yuroic from Master Jessica. Jairdain knew why she got it as well. However, there was no sympathy in the communication. It was something she had noticed with Jessica, but wanted to work with her on the matter.

He is right to a point, Master Jessica. We were not fully prepared for this combat. Plan things all we want and there will always be surprises. Yes, he may have been unlucky, but I don't think he knows just how wonderful he did. He returned when so many did not. Give him time and allow me to care for him. He's broken right now. Take this from somebody that has been there, my friend.
​
Hopefully those last two words took any sting out of what she sent to the master, but if Jessica persisted in pursuing an attempt to help her love, they may become stronger and more forceful.

"Yuroic, many things we are unable to prepare for. I love you and you're not a failure."

In a way, Jairdain was still recovering from her own ordeal at the hands of the sith. This had been her first return to their territory and even she had lost her fight there. Now all they could do was recover, rebuild, learn from their mistakes and get stronger.

If her spoken message didn't reach Yuroic's mind, her telepathic one would. She extended her love out to him and reached to touch him in his broken mind.

Yuroic, my love. I am here for you. I need you as much as you need me right now.​

[member="Jessica Med-Beq"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

 

[Valkren Calderon]

What was this, some kind of sick joke? No..Valae was never one for jokes. Valkren's jaw began to lock up as his teeth clenched together. Anger and confusion pumped through him as denial began to run its course.

"What are you talking about?" He questioned the Grandmaster, his blood boiling at the thought of their long time friend fading away.

The anger was apparent in his facial expression, he bit into his lip, drawing a small stream of blood as the skin broke. His eyes red as he fought back tears that attempted to make their way out. Memories flooded his mind, of Arisa and himself in the Republic. Her upbringing and her time as a knight. His time in the Republic Marines, and the tiny coincidence that the two cross each others' paths whilst during his time with the Republic special forces.

Arisa saving his life.

There was too much left unsaid, too much that could have been done if she was still here. Valkren still didn't believe it.

He broke eye contact with Val, turning away to look at the crowds once more, but mainly to avoid showing the weakness he was feeling to the Grandmaster. He closed his eyes momentarily, having fought back his tears for the moment.

Soldiers don't cry.

You're right, only the weak cry.

His ideas and thoughts in his mind were fighting over each other..A sign of post traumatic stress beginning to set in. He needed to focus, needed to come up with a plan. They couldn't stay here.

Valkren looked down to his gloves hands, beginning to strip off the plating and underlayer that protected his bare skin, letting the burnt plating clatter to the ground next to his boots.

"We..We need to regroup."

We need to make them pay.

"We can send a strike team to Mirial, find Arisa. You and I both know damn well that she is not gone!" Valkren turned back to her as he said this. Denial was setting in.

And while we're at it, we can slaughter those who killed Forestor.

"I can lead the team. Five person team of the hardest hitting ground pounders we have." By this point, it was Valkren begging Valae to let him go back. His mind was a mess, something wasn't right.

"You know I can get her back, Val." The formality was tossed to the side now, his thoughts clouded with images of his men and Arisa and the chaos that was the combat they just returned from.

The colonel wanted to fight again.

[member="Valae Kitra"]

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Army of Light Airfield
Voss, Tion Cluster

Zark wandered through quiet camps filled with Antarians and other warriors of light, drawing a few blank stares of confusion at the sight of his foreign uniform stained by the same soot and ash of Mirial's surface as the rest of them. So far removed from one another geographically, many of them had probably never seen an Alliance uniform in person in their entire lives, unless they had fought in the One Sith campaigns. Likewise, the last time the Vice Admiral had laid eyes upon an Antarian had been before he had even joined the military, when he was still a Jedi Knight and Adviser assigned near his home in the New Territories.

How many lifetimes ago had that been? This side of the galaxy always reminded him of what it had felt like, when he had truly believed in the Code, and lived every day by its tenants.

But now he was an officer, and he had another duty to perform. At a few of the camps he stopped and politely asked for directions to get where he needed to go, inquiring after the locations of the Grandmaster or their commanding officer. It took the Jedi a few tries to find a unit organized enough to provide him with the intel he needed, and in the end it had been an enlisted man that had just seen Colonel Calderon a few minutes earlier who had pointed him in the right direction.

It occurred to Zark, as he moved across the airfield with renewed purpose, that this was the first time he had actually set foot on Voss. The idyllic autumnal scenery that surrounded them provided a surreal contrast to the wounded and war weary. Anxiety eased within him as he allowed his thoughts to drift from the roiling storm of strategic planning and logistical calculation and into a quiet sea of meditative contemplation. He hated how much he was getting used to this sensation, the post-adrenal come down of the minutes and hours after battle, however the admiral would need his wits about him in the moments to come, as it was his obligation to perform not just as battlefield commander now, but statesman of a kind.

He had concealed his Force presence the moment they landed, reluctant to deal with any additional complications if the Silvers were to treat him as a representative figure from the New Jedi Order, who he bore very little association with in truth of fact. Instead, so far as the others were concerned unless they had witnessed him leading his men in fighting retreat on the surface, a non-sensitive human Vice Admiral in the Alliance Navy approached [member="Valae Kitra"] and [member="Valkren Calderon"] respectfully.

When Zark moved close enough to catch a glimpse at their expressions, he realized he was on the verge of intruding upon a personal moment, and so instead of proceeding the Alliance commander stood stoically at a distance. Far enough to be out of earshot, but close enough to hopefully be noticed eventually, or failing that discern when a better moment to approach might be. He resisted the undiplomatic compulsion to light another cigarra.

 

[Valae Heavenshield]

Valae braced herself. She Jedi healer could feel the mixed emotions rising within [member="Valkren Calderon"]. Anger came through the strongest at first. It was an understandable response, even if he chose to redirect this feeling to her. After all, she was the one standing there… she was the one that had just delivered a shocking blow. There was a storm brewing inside Valkren, she could sense it. And while part of her wanted to pull the man into a comforting hug, she knew that he was not the touchy-feely type. Also, judging by his initial reaction, she wasn’t sure that it would have helped. And as Valkren presented Valae with a plan to return to Mirial, his words betrayed the denial he was facing.

“No, Valkren…” She started, her voice soft. “We can’t bring her back… we can’t.”

She glanced away for a moment and wiped her eyes again. Valae shared the pain that the Colonel felt inside; they had both lost a very good friend. This was a delicate time. Indeed she could feel the Colonel’s normal calm and composure unraveling – not so much on the surface, but deep within. Everyone had different ways of coping with grief. Valae wasn’t quite sure how Valkren was going to react, but she had a feeling. Right now, she couldn’t let him act on impulse.

“I’m sorry,” She said, looking back to Valkren. “But I need you here on Voss, we’ll re-group here.”

Valae knew that there was a chance the Colonel would be angry with her, but it was a chance she had to take. Drawing a deep breath, she could feel yet another presence beginning to rage -- [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]. His shouting had certainly not gone unnoticed, drawing the attention of those around him. Valae knew that he was going to need help to get through this as well; the loss of a Master was not something to take lightly. It was a deep wound that would leave a scar.

For a moment, she was rooted to the ground again – conflicted.

Many needed her now, but she could only be in so many places at once. A fact that became evident when she noticed an onlooker ([member="Zark"]) that seemed to be waiting to be addressed. Pushing out the breath in her lungs, she closed her eyes for the briefest of moments. One thing at a time. Though she wanted to remain here to console Valkren, she would need him to carry on without her for a little while.

“Please, take some time…” She said to him, and gave his hand a squeeze. “I’ve got your back.”

Stepping around the Colonel, she moved on to tend to Yuroic. Valae reached out to help steady him, and took a moment to also look over the wounds he had suffered on Mirial. He was dealing with quite a lot, she didn’t think this was the time to add on the fact that his Master had passed away. Valae would tell him personally, but she would wait until he was stable.

“Yuroic, everything will be okay.” Valae said steadily, even though she was struggling to believe it herself. “[member="Jairdain"], please see to it that he’s brought to the medical ward right away, and have him wait for me there.”

She gave a nod to Jairdain, Valae knew that the young woman was facing her own struggles. Valae then turned and looked towards the man that had approached, she wasn’t sure that she recognized him.

“Greetings,” She called as she made her way over, “I am Valae Kitra, can I help you?”

Her tone lacked the friendly warmth that it usually had, but she had managed to speak up to the stranger without letting her voice crack too badly.

 

[Stephanie Swail]

As Stephanie walked across the airfield towards where her Master stood with the others, she pulled her Hapan gown a little tighter around her body as gusts of wind from the engines carried along the ground. She took a glance down to her hands, dirty and shaking a little.

She put it out of her mind as she came up to see [member="Valae Kitra"] talking to a military man - [member="Zark"] - who looked to be one of the fleeting crew. She didn't hesitate to step around quietly without being seen and moving to the side of the soldier [member="Valkren Calderon"] on his own.

"Valkren," she said, reaching out with her hand to touch his armoured arm, "hey, it's me, Stephanie Swail, I think we've met once?"

The moment she touched his arm, she felt...angry. She felt hurt, and alone, and alive. With a little gasp, her fingers tightened on his arm. The sensations she didn't yet understand how to control, but one she felt was an empathic nature.

"What's wrong. What's happened. Tell me."

Stephanie walked beside him, not letting go and feeling some desire to take on the entire galaxy. But why? War wasn't anything but pain...bit the Sith needed to be destroyed...didn't they? That was the soldiers way.

 

[Jake Daniels]

The shamed Knight, for the briefest of moments felt the presence of [member="Valae Kitra"]. For the briefest of moments he felt comforted. As the light-infantry took Jake away, though Jake continued to eye the cloth covered dead as they were removed from the ships. His head was lowered. His eyes were closed. The shame consumed him like never before.

The Light-Infantry took Jake into the temple through a side entrance. They could see it in his eyes. They didn’t need the force to feel what Jake felt. They felt it too. It weighed on them all. While Masters, Knights and Padawans returned to their own, the lone wolf, the dark outcast, the one with the red lightsaber that few knew and many seemed uneasy around, was taken away. Away he went from all of them.

“Sir, you need to see a Healer.” The soldier spoke as he knelt in front of. The blood stained cloth was slowly peeled back to reveal the poorly bandaged wound. Blood had seeped through the bandage.

“No.” Jake replied.

“Some of the stitching broke.” The soldier rebutted. “At least let a surgeon work on it. If we don’t get this treated, even if you survive infection, there is the risk of internal scaring. If your liver was hit, that scarring could lead to failure in time.”

Daniels yanked his shirt back down, “I said no.”

The Soldier backed away without a word more. The others simply looked from Jake to their commanding officer, then finally away. Everyone was tense. Everyone equally upset. There was no point in pushing one another's buttons. Not right now. Even though Jake knew he was just trying to help, the Knight didn’t deserve it. Self-loathing? No. This was a man mourning the loss of life. This was a man owning his mistake. He’d mourn for a long while. He’d then learn the name of the deceased and do what he always did. Their names would be written in a private journal and housed in secret.

Even if they galaxy moved on from this day. Even if those on Mirial forgot in time about the hellacious fight to free them from the Sith that failed, those lost would never be forgotten. Not to Jake. He had been responsible for the mess. He could have done more and didn’t. He’d ensure their names would go with him until his dying days.

“Name and rank?” Jake asked the Soldier whom had assisted him.

“Andrew Markov. Staff Sergeant SJ-8th Light-Infantry Support Regiment.” The Soldier replied.

“How many did you lose?” Jake asked.

Andrew set his helmet on the bench beside him, “Everyone but us.” He gave a glance to the few soldier around them. “As you were in the process of evacuating, several Sith came through with support.
Between them and those damn undead roaming about, we just were massacred.”

“How’d you get out?” Jake asked, having just realized that he must have briefly blacked out during the evacuation.

“We called in support. SJ fighters strafed the ground. Cleared us enough of an avenue to get us all out of there.” Andrew explained.

Jake was silent as he mulled over what he had been told. Nearly an entire regiment was gone; again more lives lost that he took accountability for. Why had he been so slow in his reaction to the Sith with a knife? That wasn’t like him at all. He’d never been that slow in reaction. As his mind wandered, the smallest trickle of blood emerged from his nose.

Andrew was quick to hand Jake a piece of gauze, which the Knight used to wipe it away. Perplexed at the sudden drop, the Knight simply tore a piece off and stuck it in his nostril. Since when did Jake get bloody noses?

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Zark stiffened reflexively as [member="Valae Kitra"] called out to him on her approach. For practicality's sake the Vice Admiral had adopted a more relaxed partially at ease posture while he waited, but that shifted into a stance of rigid attention. The first thing that struck him as he took proper measure of the Silver Grandmaster was just how young she was, practically half his age from her appearance. Her attitude was muted, but the Knight could not help but find even that much impressive, as he could not conceive of the weight Master Kitra must be feeling on her shoulders in the aftermath of the blunted liberation of the Mirial system.

As she drew closer, the uniformed Alliance officer before he snapped off a smart salute, more for the benefit of [member="Valkren Calderon"] than the Grandmaster, and bowed low in a textbook sign of deference to a superior. His military career had robbed him of many of his more amiable qualities, but between the praxeum and the Dubrillion aristocracy before that, some things were too deeply ingrained to ever fade away, and in Zark's case a sense of courtly manners was one of them.

"Valae Kitra? Grandmaster Valae Kitra?" he echoed her words back as a question, still not quite certain he believed it. When she nodded tentatively, he stiffened once more as his eyes darted from matching her gaze to stare straight forward, "Vice Admiral Zark, Galactic Alliance Defense Fleet. My task force intercepted a Sith patrol group on the outer edge of the Mirial system while out on long range maneuvers. I presume now they were on their way to reinforce this resurgent empire's grip on...on the surface."

He faltered only at the end, as his mind raced back to that nightmarish hellscape that was Mirial's planetside. His expression hardly changed, the military discipline in him simply would not allow such a display of public weakness, but tempestuous blue eyes shined an inner pain at the memory.

"I believe our transports picked up a few of the Colonel's Rangers in the chaos of the withdrawal," Zark's eyes glanced once more in Calderon's direction, all the while maintaining his motionless state, as if he were reporting directly to a superior, "You may have some of my Pathfinders as well. Ma'am, the Alliance Fifth Expeditionary is in orbit and standing by to provide whatever assistance you and your warriors may need. I can have ship's surgeons and MedCorps personnel on the surface with as many supplies as we can spare at your command."

Ma'am? he chastised himself lamely, for despite his nearly emotionless posture, he truly felt for this young woman. What else can I do? What else can I say? Master Hexyra would know, he always knew...

 

[Viathae Qarmast]

To hear that Arisa was dead was a tragedy. But she couldn't hold up her anger. No. She died a warriors death. "A Mandalorian that dies on the battlefield is an honourable thing..." she said to herself as she clenched her fist close to her armor piece. She didn't really knew Master Yune very well, but from what she had learned about her, she seemed like a fair, and wise Jedi. She and her would of probably gotten along quite well had they met properly. Viathae, now, unfortunalyl will not have the chance to ever see her face. It's a true curse... but is it?

Viathae would only hope that Arisa had became one with the force. Who knows, maybe now her spirit is lingering around somewhere, and maybe, just maybe, she might actually speak to her through the realm of the force. For she remembered in the code, there is no death, but there is the force. Even if Mandalorian culture dictates otherwise, Viathae will never forget her basic Jedi principles. She can't get angry and hold a grudge, for hate will lead to the dark side. She breathed slowly, and tried her best to stay calm, and not snap. But her tears still came down her cheek, as if she had to be there, and help her... but failed.

[member="Valae Kitra"]

 

[WelshPsych]

If Yuroic hadn't been as self absorbed was he was, he would have felt the lost that the people close felt. However, he was grieving not yet for his fallen Master, grieving at the naive belief that good triumphs over evil. That people can be saved. That knowledge was power. Truth hit him hard, the cyborg proved that power was power. It was impossibly strong yet also able to use the Force. No words helped him in that battle, no ancient texts preserved him. It was skill and luck, skill that he didn't die sooner. Luck that he didn't die.

Now, now he wanted answers. Where was Arisa? She trained him, taught him most of what he knew. Yet never once did she warn him of cyborgs, sith created zombies and worse. Reasonably, how could she? But Yuroic wasn't being reasonable. He was being weak and angry. He ignored Jessica's message, she wasn't there. She didn't know the threat like he did. He turned to Valae, who sensibly tried sending him away. But that just infuriated him more. He wanted Arisa to see his crippled form now.

"No! No one touches me. Not till I see Arisa! She should see what her training did to me! How can I be a Jedi when I cannot protect myself?! Answer me! Where is Arisa?!" His anger flooded out control, he just wanted to curl up and die. Living was too painful now. But he had to wait. He had to show Arisa the pain she created in his mind.

[member="Valae Kitra"] | [member="Jairdain"]

 

[Sky'ito Yumi]

Sukai was unsure of what was going on around her, some voices she recognized, other were new, one though was that of anger and rage, also one of the few she recognized, even if there meeting was, looking over she saw a man without an arm, yelling out for Arisa, spouting something about Cyborg zombies and other horrible monstrosities done by the Sith. Her memory went back to the Sith she face on Miral, the man spouting nonsense about Sith being the true peace keepers and ones that bring order to the galaxy, 'Bantha Kuso, if the Sith are making things like that, they are no peace keepers at all, if I ever find that guy again.. I'll make sure to give him a painful death'.

Sukai tried to lift her head to get a better view of the landing platform, and those around but was pushed back onto the bed she was one as the medics frantically applied bacta bandages and other methods to stop the bleeding, "I told you not to move miss, you'll just cause more problems for yourself". She let out a metal sight, relaxing and letting the medics carrying on their work, there was nothing she could really do, and revealing herself as a vampire was not something she wanted to do, not in front of all the others present, 'this is going to be a long day'.

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Jessica was in no position to help out [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] with his problems: [member="Jairdain"] was perhaps a better choice to help him get through the crisis. However, he had a point: SJ intelligence was, simply put, deficient. To the extent I'm willing to concede that the lifespan of a battle plan tends to be rather short, poor intelligence is the sort of thing that can make or break our prosecution of war. That, even though we made them pay the price of victory, she thought. Yet the speed at which the news of Arisa's death spread was a little disconcerting for some reason. it was too slow for certain channels, but too fast for other channels, yet grapevines, while sometimes accurate, were not always the fastest channels. She could feel that so many grieve the loss of a key person on the battlefield of Mirial, but exactly what remains unclear. Another one of those faces from Eredenn Prime came to her to meet with Jessica and communicate the bad news, and it was a face that feel all too familiar, that one lady that didn't feel much of a meteorological difference between Mirial and Eredenn Prime.

"Name and rank?"

"Major Alyssa Hickman, 79th Bomber Squadron"

"What news do you bring?"

"General, it appears that Arisa is, well, dead. She died while leading the attack on the enemy headquarters from where the waves of darkness came. It appeared that the enemy hit a nearby hospital in an attempt to shoot us down"

 

[Eugen Aker]

When the Norikura had lost contact with Arisa's neural implants monitoring her vitals, a timer had begun, giving the cyborg a small window to reconnect to the system before she was officially declared KIA.

The timer passed without a reconnect. Now as far as the system was concerned, she was gone.

Within the sealed holocron vault of the temple archives, a single white holocron began to glow with soft blue light as it was roused from standby mode by a remote command from half a galaxy away.

An update process began as it communed with local servers, and a pair of encrypted messages were forwarded to the private inboxes of Valkren and Valae once their status was confirmed, Arisa Yune being labeled as the sender. The messages were identical, beginning with "Your Eyes Only" in flashing bold crimson font, then a prompt to open a prerecorded holovid of Arisa.

"This is Arisa. If you're seeing this message now, then this means that I have have been deemed KIA by the system monitoring the vitals from my neural implants. I have contingencies in place for such an event, which includes this holocron now relaying my message. I stored it within the Holocron Vault on Voss for your use, though its advanced functions can only be activated with your biometrics. Otherwise, it will remain locked with limited functionality. Until you're able to reach the holocron, I ask that you keep quiet about the contents of this message."

Shortly after issuing the messages, the holocron went quiet again but remained active, ready to receive Valkren and/or Valae whenever they appeared.

[member="Valkren Calderon"] [member="Valae Kitra"]

 

[Valkren Calderon]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Valkren's facial expression remained the same as the Grandmaster denied his requests to return to Mirial, absolute and utter disbelief.[/SIZE]

She doesn't believe in your men.

[SIZE=10.5pt]His gaze held firm ahead where the Grandmaster once stood, not showing much movement when Valae grasped his hand and stepped around him, other then look down to the hand. Arisa was truly gone; after so many missions returning to their headquarters with doubts of the Jedi ever returning again, but she always did. Now, she was gone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]She doesn't believe in you.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The noise faded away, a constant buzzing replaced the sound as his blank gaze left him stuck on the airstrip for several moments. The buzzing seemed to get louder, anxiety began to swallow him whole, his fists clenched even tighter after Valae's grasp on his own hand loosened and disappeared. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Suddenly, the colonel was pulled back into reality, as a hand grabbed at his arm before a voice pierced the constant noise in his ears. He turned to see the same padawan he saw moments before. Now that she was close enough for Valkren to see her, he could confirm that it was in fact Stephanie. For the moment, whatever storm that brewed within the colonel was tame.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Valkren took a breath and gathered himself, doing his best to control his usually collected emotions in the presence of his friends and allies.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Yeah..Stephanie. I remember ya, kid."[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]A part of him wanted to tell the padawan to run, to get as far away from this war against darkness as she could. He didn't.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]"It's war.." He said, the colonel doing his best to put words it his thoughts, especially for the padawan. "It's just war, kid. It takes things from you, things you care about."[/SIZE]

The words that rolled from his lips didn't feel like his own, he was in a grey state now that the fire of rage began to dwindle. He attempted to find a statement that was more upbringing than what he was feeling, but could only find so much. He diverted his gaze from Steph momentarily, taking a glance up to the new arrival the Grandmaster had begun talking to. The mention of more of his rangers making it back barely reached earshot, but the mention of rangers alone had caught his attention.

Valkren tuned back into the padawan before him. "I'm glad you made it out." Usually, the young farmboy would have said this statement to any person with a smile after successful, and even failed missions. Yet his face held the same blank expression. His words meant well, but he just couldn't push himself to move those invisible chains from around his neck.

A thought struck the colonel, thinking on his rangers now.

Where was Echo?

[member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Valae Kitra"] | [member="Roona Osmari"] | [member="Arisa Yune"] | [member="Zark"]

 

[Roona Osmari]

Roona offered a nod of thanks to the pilot of the Galactic Alliance transport. She and Clark had been separated from the rest of the rangers while on Mirial. The two had been perched on the balcony and roof of a building, but as they had reached the streets – chaos had taken hold of the area. She believed that the arrival of a supposed Sith Lord had only added to the mayhem. There had certainly been moments when she doubted that she would make it back to Voss, but here she stood.

Truly, they were lucky to have come across the Alliance ships. Roona didn’t really want to think about what might have happened if they hadn’t reached them in time.

“You alright?” Clark asked, nudging Roona’s arm.

The woman blinked, gaze a bit faraway. She turned slowly to Clark, almost as though she’d forgotten he was standing there.

“Yes,” She heard herself answer sharply, the words came automatically. “I am fine.”

Her words were a bit stony; it was her first line of defense. Roona was not a highly emotional personal, at least not in front of others. It took quite a lot of trust to open up, and it was much easier to shut people out – so that’s usually what she did. The mood in the airfield was charged with emotions, Roona could feel it all. Though, unlike many of the Jedi that walked the area, she lacked their training to handle such feelings. She swallowed hard, and took a few steps away from Clark.

But as she moved, she couldn’t help but feel a small pang of guilt.

Her comrade had only been asking about her well-being, he meant no harm. They had been through quite a lot together, after all. Perhaps it would not be considered weak to offer a kind and caring word or two for his sake. Turning, Roona spotted a bit of blood on Clark’s brow and she raised an index finger to point.

“You are bleeding,” Her words a bit blunt, but her tone was softer this time. “Go see medical, I will check in with Colonel Calderon.”

Roona parted ways with Clark and walked through the crowd. There were injured men and women; there were even some motionless forms that had been covered respectfully. It was a grim sight. She spotted the Colonel up ahead; it appeared that he was speaking with a young woman.

Approaching quietly, she moved to the edge of Valkren’s sight. Roona also saw the Vice Admiral speaking with Grandmaster Kitra, the ranger would offer him a very brief salute – so as not to interrupt.

[member="Valkren Calderon"], [member="Stephanie Swail"], [member="Zark"]

 

[Gir Quee]

Gir gently tilted the controls of the Java, sending the light freighter in a gentle arc through billowing white-gray clouds. The clouds soon gave way, revealing a bustling assembly point with countless ships touching down and rising up from a field, reminding Gir faintly of the flocks sea birds on the beach back home on Hast. he brought the Java down in abrupt landing that placed him besides what looked like a Galactic Alliance transport and a congregating group of troops in some armor that Gir had never seen before. As he walked down the ramp, he got a better look at their faces and insignia. He knew none of the soldiers, nor did he recognize their organization, but he had seen the look before countless times before. The fatigue of war. He briefly considered approaching them, but just as quickly dismissed the idea. Let them rest. His eyes began to scan the field as he trudged off to look for any source of information or any recognizable faces.

[member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member="Zark"]

 

[Cassius Droma]

The glinting silver plating of a milling protocol droid caught his attention. “C7,” he called out to it, just barely able to see the faded designation on its upper left torso. The droid shuffled over to him, its servos clearly audible as its joints moved.

“Yes, sir? How may I be of service?”

“Could you get me the dossiers of all pilots in Green Squadron, with the exceptions of myself, Green Nine, and Green Twelve?” Cassius asked. “I specially want any information on families – next of kin.”

“Absolutely, sir.” Without any questions or badgering, the droid went off, having a newfound quest. Cassius hung his head slightly, as he mulled over once more in his head what he’d use the information for – to visit the families of those that had flown next to him, but couldn’t make it home.

His eyes eventually found Grandmaster [member="Valae Kitra"], and standing with her was Colonel [member="Valkren Calderon"]. It appeared that their leaders were regrouping. They looked very distraught, which was typical as they had lost the invasion and many of their own people with it, but this was... different. It wasn’t the stony despair that he saw on their faces. Whatever they were feeling, it cut much deeper than that. Just then, he noticed someone missing…

Where was General Yune?

Picking up his helmet from where he’d set it down on his A-wing, he tucked it under his arm as he made his way across the airfield towards the steadily growing group of people. The only ones he recognized were Valae and Valkren, and he’d never interacted with the colonel directly, just saw him in briefings. A few other people – two younger women and a man with a uniform with a lot of brass on it had also joined the two as he walked over.

Rather than try to cut in to a conversation, as Cassius felt he was a small fish in a big pond, the pilot elected to hang back a little, silent. He’d be there if anyone needed anything, or just wanted an after action report.

[member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Roona Osmari"] | [member="Zark"]

 

[Stephanie Swail]

The soldier wasn’t focused; Stephanie could tell his mind was elsewhere and he was trying to keep things together. A few more people were amassing, checking on their friends and colleagues from soldiers to pilots to Jedi.

"Thank you, I know. Please, rest well," she spoke before taking a few steps back.

Something wasn’t right, that was for sure. She glanced from face to face, and felt a little useless in the grand scheme of things. Her Master was far too busy to focus on one Padawan, and Europa was out of her hands. There was little she could do. Even her Ranger friend was now sorting her own troops out across the landing pad as she could be seen in the distance.

She took her eyes away from the gunship and saw the A-wings and fighter craft, with a few pilots together, one of whom - [member="Cassius Droma"] – was near their group. Stephanie looked at him until he made eye contact, where she then stepped forward and indicated to his helmet.

"You’re a pilot? Flying above Mirial. I saw your unit. You saved many lives and possibly my own too when the TIEs came in. Thank you, pilot." She extended her hand. "My name is Stephanie Swail, a Padawan to Master Kitra."

[member="Roona Osmari"] | [member="Valae Kitra"] | [member="Valkren Calderon"] | [member=Zark]

 

[Valae Heavenshield]

“The very same,” Valae answered when [member="Zark"] inquired about her name and title. The man’s straight posture and uniform gave away his position as a military officer. And she had followed his respectful bow with one of her own. “It is very nice to meet you, Vice Admiral.” She said, offering as much of a smile as she could muster. “The Order is very thankful for your support; please make it known to the Alliance as well.”

Indeed despite the heavy circumstances, it was very nice to meet an ally here today.

Valae had been present during the talks between the SJO and GA, and from what she had gleaned, the two had been moving towards a very promising relationship. This was a solid confirmation that the bond they formed that day had held. Nodding, Valae listened as the Vice Admiral updated her about the Sith patrol group his task force had intercepted. And that his transports had brought some of their rangers home safely. His offer of additional support had not gone unnoticed.

“Thank you again. We would welcome any support you can spare.” She drew a breath, “You and your men are more than welcome to rest here on Voss, please stay as long as you need.”

Her eyes were drawn back to [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] – the young man was not happy with her.

“I’m sorry, if you’ll excuse me…” She said, and then started to move past Zark, flashing the Vice Admiral an apologetic glance.

As Valae made her way back over to Yuroic, she prepared herself for a difficult conversation. She understood that he would be upset, but she also knew that he needed rest. He was wounded, exhausted, and the added stress of grief wasn’t what he needed right now. She knew that she wouldn’t be able to keep him in the dark for long. In fact, it was time to address everyone. But Valae felt it right to make sure that those closest to Arisa knew first.

“Yuroic,” She said, placing her hands gently upon his shoulders. “Arisa…” Valae’s eyes darted away for a brief moment, unable to keep the tears at bay. “She… was caught in a blast on Mirial, from what I understand. And… she’s one with the force now.” Valae hoped her words were gentle enough not to shock him, but she knew that the news would be quite a blow.

“I’m here for you,” She said, moving to embrace him. “We all are.”