Private LINGERING SCARS - a lesson in healing

[Aadihr Lidos]

LINGERING SCARS
Lazerian IV

Outfit: Field Attire | Sigil Bead Earring
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Legion Long Range Precision Rifle Mark I

The war on Lazerian IV had been a battle for liberation, justice, and survival. The Galactic Alliance, alongside the Valoren Prince and the remnants of the royal forces, had waged a relentless campaign to reclaim the planet from the iron grip of the Obsidian Syndicate. The Syndicate’s exploitation of the Empeth Crystals and the enslavement of Lazerians had left scars on the planet, both physical and spiritual. Yet, the war had ended in triumph, the Syndicate’s forces scattered, and the surviving Lazerians began the arduous task of rebuilding their lives.

The refugee camp now bustled with activity. Tents stretched across the foothills, their patched fabric fluttering in the cool, temperate breeze. Makeshift shelters were crowded together, forming a labyrinth of narrow pathways trampled into the dirt by weary feet. Smoke from cooking fires curled into the sky, mingling with the earthy scents of damp grass and the medicinal tang of antiseptics. Children’s laughter and the low hum of conversation contrasted with the somber undertones of grief and exhaustion that hung over the camp like a shadow.

Inside one of the larger medical tents, the Miraluka Jedi Knight Aadihr Lidos stood at the center of a semicircle of listeners, among them Azurine Varek , Aris Noble , Corazona von Ascania and her Padawan, Roman Vossari . The tent was dimly lit, with shafts of sunlight filtering through the seams in the fabric, casting soft patterns across the ground. The air carried a faint medicinal smell, mingled with the scent of the tea brewing in a corner for the exhausted healers who had just completed their shift.

Aadihr’s presence radiated calm, his voice steady as he began the lesson. His sightless gaze, masked by a synthweave band of fabric gifted to him by Azurine, seemed to take in more than eyes ever could.

Before him, a Lazarian refugee lay on a cot, their arm wrapped in a rudimentary splint. Aadihr viewed the injury through the cloth and flesh, analyzing the fracture and lacerations. As a beginning demonstration l of Force Healing, his hands moving with practiced precision as he focused on the injury. A soft glow emanated from his fingertips, giving life force from within himself to mend torn tissue; knitting the bone and muscle like a loose stitching and soothing the Lazarian’s pain.

"Healing from the Force is not without cost. While the dark side lures the selfish to drain life energy from others to mend wounds - one of the darkest acts of greed within the force - Force Healing is a mirror of it. It is the selfless transfer of one's own life energy to heal another." Aadihr continued to demonstrate the healing on the leg, but made each 'stitch' of healing further and further apart for the others to see more clearly.

"Naturally, this is an exhausting process, and unless recovery time is a significant factor, the finesse of conserving your life energy to heal enough for the patient's own body to take over is encouraged, particularly when assisting in large-scale healing efforts."

After removing the improvised splint from the Lazerian's leg, Aadihr traced the line of the laceration and wrapped the wound with a more comfortable and lighter bracing splint.

"While we have come to rely on Bacta as well, most wounds can be healed with time, more abundant materials, and the knowledge of 'mundane' healing. Such knowledge is not only critical when without Bacta or too exhausted to heal from the force, but can also minimize the necessary amount of both to treat more patients efficiently."

After the initial demonstration, the patient was given a crutch to lean upon and was able to walk free as more patients were brought in on hover-gurneys. Aadihr approached the others to observe, guide, and assist the other Jedi while experienced field medics treated other patients in the tent.

Aris Noble | Azurine Varek | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Seated on the floor with her legs tucked beneath her, Cora watched with rapt interest as Knight Lidos guided flesh and bone back together.

There was a moment where her gaze flicked to the young man as he lay ln the cot, wondering if it was daunting to be observed. She offered him a smile, then her attention drifted back to Aadihr. He worked with the sort of gentle surety and precision that could only be borne from experience.

Cora's own skill in healing was rudimentary. She had been rather keen on observing an expert, and Knight Lidos was kind enough to oblige for all of them.

The tips of Aadihr's fingers were lost to the faint glow beneath them, and Cora could not quite work out whether it was a manifestation of Force-infused healing, or the Jedi's own energy as he imparted it unto the patient. Still, it was fascinating to witness a blend of the Force and practical medicine.

After the task was complete, the patient hobbled away, guided by another volunteer. It wasn't long before the flaps of the tent lifted, ushering in a new round of hover gurneys.

Cora turned her attention to the patient closest to her - a middle aged woman who was clutching her abdomen.

"Hit with shrapnel during a blast," the orderly said before disappearing outside the tent.

The Jedi reached out, skimming her fingers over the woman's forehead, her skin sticky with a mixture of sweat, dirt, and blood. Cora swept her fingers down below her ear. She felt warm, but her pulse thrummed strong beneath her fingers.

"It's alright," she said softly. "Does it hurt anywhere else besides your stomach? We-"

The woman gave a sudden lurch forward, and vomited blood onto the Jedi's lap.

“…Ah.”

Aadihr Lidos Azurine Varek Aris Noble Roman Vossari

 

[Aris Noble]

Aris sat in attention as Aadihr spoke, his expression cam for the moment. The words, they made.. Some sense. A little. Not that much, if he was honest. The Force, healing with it, he knew that was something that could be done considering what Zaiya Ceti herself could do, but it didn't help him actually understand how it worked. The Force was still as ever an enigma.

He blinked, though, as he saw Cora tending to someone else. Who then vomited blood.

That wasn't good.

Aadihr Lidos | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari | Azurine Varek

 

[Azurine Varek]

Healing Hands

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Azurine lingered at the edge of the tent, crouched near a pile of hastily organized supplies. She rolled a bandage tightly between her hands, her sharp eyes darting between the patients and the Jedi. A part of her itched to help—to do something more—but the other part, the part that had seen too many failures that got people killed, kept her rooted to the corner.

Her attention was locked fully with Aadihr’s demonstration despite her distance, marveling at the way the Force seemed to hum around him. His touch was gentle but sure, as though he carried a deep understanding of life’s fragility. Her jaw tightened. She couldn't help but be in awe, like she had been with others capable of the same, while wishing she could do it successfully.

At least she wasn’t completely useless. Azzie had taken up learning multiple different immediate first aid techniques in her life, particularly because of the battlefield. That was the extent of it, though. Hopefully, if she was lucky, no one would notice her keeping herself to that.

A Lazarian man stumbled past her, cradling his arm. “Hey,” she called softly, motioning for him to sit on the overturned crate beside her. He hesitated, but the weariness in his eyes won out. The injury was minor—a shallow gash along his forearm, likely from shrapnel. Swiftly, she pulled a sterile wipe and some bacta spray from one of the kits. The man winced as she dabbed at the wound. “Relax. This is the easy part.” Her voice was steady.

"Good as new. Just don’t go picking any fights for a while, yeah?” She eventually said playfully as she finished wrapping the wound. He gave her a weak chuckle and a nod before retreating into the maze of tents.

The tent suddenly filled with a sharp, wet sound—a woman vomiting blood. Azzie’s head snapped up in time to see the dark stain spreading across Cora’s lap. She'd seen plenty of battles in her life—she'd even been in that position herself before but worse and still had the scars to prove it—to have a good idea of what the problem probably was.

"Internal bleeding."

She moved almost on autopilot to the woman and Cora, focusing on her aura while pressing two fingers to the side of her neck. There was a pulse, a strong one, that was good. Her problem was she didn't quite know what she could do. The best bet was for someone with experience to handle this so they could get to a hospital, and in this case, that was most certainly Aadihr.

Azzie could at least do her best to help the woman relax and slow down the possibility of her going into shock. A version of the same technique she used to induce sleep. So, she focused in on the woman's aura, using the force around her to steady the patterns and keep them from spiking.

Aadihr Lidos | Aris Noble | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari​

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire | Sigil Bead Earring
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Legion Long Range Precision Rifle Mark I

The medics began attending to the new patients, and took the worst of the injured. Aadihr had tried to direct the patients with easier to treat wounds to the padawan.

Azzie had already begun treating the most minor of injuries and Aadihr was determining which to entrust to Roman and Aris when he heard the sudden worsening condition of the Lady that had been sent for Cora to attend. Azzie had hurried to check on the elderly woman, but there was too many injured for any one patient to eat up all the Jedi's attention.

"Azzie, can you handle some of the other patients? This one will need some special attention." Aadihr waved the next patients in and gently pulled Azurine back by the shoulder from the checking the woman's pulse. "Aris - are you comfortable using your temperature control to cauterize lacerations or perhaps try to replicate some of the surgical tools? While we have materials available, the primary of our abilities - force healing or otherwise, is the readiness we can respond to time sensitive situations. If you're up to it, try making a pair of forceps or a turniquette from your wrist." Despite the hurry in his steps, Aadihr took a moment to reassure Aris, "If you're unable, we have plenty of supplies for traditional field dressing. Do the Epicanthix include setting bones in their first aid curriculum?" Aadihr asked, though listened for an answer even as he continued to Corazona and her patient.

"Azzie's right, internal bleeding here." She had used the force to lull the old woman to near-sleep, almost like an anaesthetic. It'll have to serve. With a calm tone that still matched the urgency of the situation, Aadihr tried to instruct and assist simultaneously. "If we heal around the shrapnel it can cause complications later - new wounds, infections, even poisoning depending on what the shrapnel was made of." Aadihr spoke as he rapidly disinfected his hands and pulled on sterile gloves, motioning for Cora to do the same.

"While we could use the force to pull the shrapnel free, we want to minimize the amount of damage we create in the removal. If you have extremely precise telekinetic, you still need to be able to trace the path back from the entry wound. To cut this short: we'll need to get our hands dirty."
Aadihr could see several dozen shards implanted within the patient, metal, splinters of wood, stone. . . human bone. Determining the entry wound through Force Sight would take additional time and concentration that were luxuries at this point in time.

Aadihr immediately reached towards the wound, holding the patient in place and using his hands to isolate the entry wound to the largest piece of shrapnel. "Use your finger and feel for the shrapnel inside the wound, when you feel it, grip it with the force using your finger as a reference point, and guide it out following your finger - try to navigate the debris with tactile sense if you can, otherwise forceps with your other hand will work."

Aadihr paid close attention to the knight Ascania. Being the target of projectile exsanguination and reaching into wounds directly was a rather difficult intro to a lesson, so he searched to see if she was uncomfortable or unsure in her capabilities. Aadihr was ready to take over at a moment's notice if the patient's blood pressure dropped dangerously low.

"After each removal we can then heal each individual shrapnel-trail with the Force." Should this prove too difficult, sutures and cauterizing probes would work as well with Bacta injection, but this was to be a lesson as well as medical aid.

The next patient wheeled proved also would be difficult. A soldier with a Slugthrower wound, the projectile lodged dangerously close to the spine. Aadihr called to the others without turning away from the current patient with Cora, "this one has a slug embedded close to their spine. Be extremely careful removing the projectile - the wrong move could cause nerve injury or permanent paralysis." Azzie had some force sight she could use, Aris's senses could prove useful - Roman... Aadihr didn't rightfully know what Roman's capacity for healing was but he might need support from the others.

Aris Noble | Azurine Varek | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari​

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania | Aadihr Lidos | Aris Noble | Azurine Varek

​

Roman watched Aadihr, his sightless gaze somehow seeing more than the eyes of others. The graceful way he moved his hands, the gentle glow of the Force, it was all mesmerizing. Roman had always been drawn to the art of healing, ever since seeing Zaiya Ceti aid the injured on Taris. He'd even sought the wisdom of Master Jairdain , eager to absorb any scrap of knowledge on the subject. But Aadhir, he was something else entirely.

Once the demonstration was finished and the wounded began to arrive, Roman's initial confidence began to wobble. The sheer volume of suffering was overwhelming, and he felt a strange mix of eagerness and trepidation. The chaos of the medical tent felt suddenly amplified. He drifted between the cots, unsure where his own abilities might be best placed. When the woman lurched forward, landing in Cora's lap, Roman's shoulders tensed. He wanted to help but felt a pang of awkwardness. Cora's expression was a mix of shock and determination and Roman moved to her side to observe.

The movements of Azurine and Aadhir seemed to follow a choreography, each action precise and purposeful, a beacon of calm in the frantic energy of the tent. They made it look easy, Roman thought, almost effortless. Then came the next patient, the soldier with the slugthrower wound. Aadhir's warning about the spine made Roman's heart pound a little faster. He had been so engrossed in the elegance of Aadhir's motions that he forgot that this was a life-or-death situation.

Roman took a breath. He tried to center himself, thinking back to his lessons with Master Jardain. He placed his hands over the soldier's back, feeling the heat of the wound, the embedded slug heavy and unfamiliar through both the synth flesh and the layers of clothing. He closed his eyes, trying to channel the focus that Aadhir had demonstrated. He needed to be careful, so, so careful. He could feel the subtle shifts of the surrounding tissue, the faint pull of the wound on the soldier's body.

He tried to use the Force, focusing on the slug, visualizing it dislodging from the muscle and bone. His brow furrowed in concentration, his hands shaking slightly as he felt the slug move a fraction of an inch. It felt as if he was pulling a thread, the slightest tremor would unravel the whole thing, leaving the man in even worse shape than before. Roman felt a bead of sweat trace a path down his temple, he had to focus, he can do this.

 

[Aris Noble]

"We're taught basic first aid, yeah. I can bind wounds and make splints." Aris nodded his head once before he looked about to try and find someone he could help. His gaze turned elsewhere as he left the more serious injuries to those who could actually help. Splints and bindings he could absolutely do. All he would do. The idea of burning flesh, it brought memories he didn't want in the back of his mind. He couldn't handle the scent of burning flesh. Not right now.

So he let the others tend to the obvious wounds. It was the efficient thing to do.

Corazona von Ascania | Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek | Roman Vossari

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Cora blinked rapidly, trying to process the sound of the woman's retching, the tang of copper in the air, and the warm sensation spreading over her midsection.

She'd expected there to be blood – who wouldn't? — but not to be vomited on. Perhaps this was divine retribution for the time she'd lost her lunch on poor BB-610 during one of their early missions.

Azurine appeared near the woman's head, fingers pressed to her neck with a firm yet gentle touch. There was a ripple in the Force, each pulse slowing further than the last. Cora flashed the Zabrak a grateful look as she rolled the woman's shirt up to just beneath her chest. True to what Azzie had said, a hail of shrapnel was embedded in the woman's abdomen.

Usually, the blonde knight was on the opposite end of emergency medicine. A spike of adrenaline threatened to overwhelm her for a moment, but it was relieved by Aadihr motioning her to action. She followed his movements, hastily rubbing disinfectant over her hands before pulling on a set of gloves.

Knight Lidos made quick work of assessing the patient and determining the best possible procedure. Unfortunately, that involved getting their hands dirty in the most literal sense. She watched him work, the corner of one lip lifting in the start of a grimace, before it fell as quickly as it rose. A true blueblood, she'd never been particularly accustomed to physical contact with strangers, if extracting shrapnel from a semi-conscious woman's abdomen even counted as such.

"Right." Cora gave Aadihr a quick nod, then turned her attention to the patient. Cautiously, she pressed a finger to the edge of the entrance wound. Blood seeped around the digit as she worked it in deeper, gently, following the contour of the laceration. Her gloved fingertip touched something pointed and solid – a piece of metal. With tortuously slow movements of the Force, she first examined the shape of the shard.

Straight, she thought in mild relief, imagining a curved – or worse, barbed – piece to be far more difficult to extract.

Slowly, slowly. With the Force as her aide, she directed the foreign body out from the entrance wound. Eventually, a blood soaked nail hovered before her. Cora dropped it into her hand, then immediately thrust her mouth into the crook of her elbow to muffle a gag as her stomach turned.

She swallowed down the bile in her throat, then dropped the nail to her side. Hopefully, the others were faring better.

Aadihr Lidos Azurine Varek Roman Vossari Aris Noble

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire | Sigil Bead Earring
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Legion Long Range Precision Rifle Mark I

Corazona's careful work was effective - the fluctuations in her aura showed discomfort at the messy operation, but she clearly had the grit to work through it. Aadihr assisted in locating the entry wounds for a few more splintered bits of shrapnel before waving over a medic with a handheld bio-scanner to locate the rest and assist the Knight Von Ascania as Aadihr turned his attention to repairing the stomache and intestinal lining and major arteries for the patient, ensuring she would be stable while the remaining shrapnel was extracted - Corazona was under enough pressure as it was.
"You're doing well, Knight Ascania. I need to assist the others, but your patient should live - just keep it up like you have been and call for me if you need anything". Aadihr hesitated a moment before adding, "Sorry about your clothes"

Aadihr stopped by the patient that Roman was treating. It was slow going, but Roman displayed genuinely impressive capability for this as a Padawan, having been able to detect the foreign object, grasping it with the force, and enough control to begin extracting with care and precision that Aadihr hadn't expected from the young man. Aadihr leaned over the patient, giving Roman an encouraging smile, and prodded with his hand opposite of the wound to heal the patient, giving freely from his own life energy to repair the intricate spiderweb fractures around the spine and clear any stray nerves to prevent lingering pain or paralysis. "Excellent work, Roman - the worst of it is past. Once that slug is fully extracted you should be able to heal freely as you see fit." The knight leaned over and addressed the delirious soldier being treated "you'll be right as rain, standing tall as a tonton in to time - the redhead over here is to thanks to Padawan Vossari here. " With a parting nod, Aadihr moved to check on the Aris and Azurine.

Both seemed despirited, Azzie unconfident and Aris perturbed, as if remembering something unpleasant. Aadihr approach the pair who were focused on mundane healing support - a valid and virtuous role in the healing tent, but likely not fulfilling as from the point of view of a student.

A new patient arrived on a gurney, a perfect opportunity to get these two involved. . . Only, Aadihr couldn't immediately spot anything wrong with the unconscious woman; she was unconscious and her pulse was weak, but no trauma inflicted within the Force Spectrum. He didn't exactly have a toxicology kit in hand, and would be able to see any discoloration if it were present.

" Azurine Varek , Aris Noble , could I borrow you both for a minute? I need some assistance with this one."

The two Padawan were friends, they may be able to communicate and help diagnose this patient.

Aris Noble | Azurine Varek | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari​

 

[Azurine Varek]

Healing Hands

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

To convince the mind that it needed to go to sleep or to manipulate the emotions to move to a calmer state by carefully watching the aura, that was something Azzie could do—even when she frequently underestimated her strength. This, though, seemed so far beyond her capabilities. She straightened as Aadihr called her over, the sound of her full name snapping her from the dull rhythm of applying kolto bandages. Her hands paused mid-wrap, trembling slightly before she tightened them into fists. Perfect opportunity? Or perfect disaster? She wondered, her heart hammering in her chest.

Azzie’s amethyst eyes flicked over her pale face, searching for something—anything—to latch onto. But there was nothing obvious. No blood. No burns. No signs of immediate trauma. Just stillness. Aadihr’s expectant gaze lingered, though he didn’t press them. She swallowed hard.

"She can't tell us what happened, but maybe I can find out." She finally stated after a pause that felt too long, her metal hand moving to pull the glove off of her biological one. She had been working more with her ability to process the echoes of the past without being completely overwhelmed with her master, Valery Noble , recently. Maybe it was time to put that to use despite her own unease, fully knowing that there could be any number of traumatic things attached here.

Deciding not to give herself any time to second-guess the resolve, she reached out to grasp the edge of the woman's clothing. Remember the training; find an anchor. What she hadn't necessarily expected in that moment was for her mind to grasp at Aadihr's heartbeat for an anchor. Her fingertips tingled as the Force pulled her into the visions with a flash of white light.

The room around her shifted. Azzie stood in a cramped space, dimly lit and thick with the acrid stench in the air. The woman—the same woman—was stumbling as the air grew heavier, her breath hitching in shallow gasps. Her chest burned as if getting air into her lungs was more difficult by the second. Panic flared in her wide eyes, and Azzie felt the echo of it in her chest. The woman reached for something, anything, her movements sluggish, uncoordinated. She collapsed before she could find some form of escape route, her head striking against the flat of a wall—

Azzie gasped as the vision ended, her hand jerking back and her mind quickly pushing out everything to focus onto the steady drum of the Miraluka's heart. "There was some kind of... gas, maybe? Whatever it was made it hard to breathe. She panicked, collapsed, and hit her head pretty hard."

A clear head injury, even if there was no immediate sign of blood. However, she couldn’t identify the gas—or debris field, or whatever it has been—by the visions alone, and she quickly turned her attention to Aris. "Can you pick up any distinguishing scents?"

Aadihr Lidos | Aris Noble | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari​

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Aadihr Lidos | Corazona von Ascania | Aris Noble | Azurine Varek

​

Roman's brow furrowed further, his focus laser-sharp on the embedded slug. He could feel it, a cold, alien presence against the warmth of the soldier's flesh. Each subtle shift, every tremor in his hands was magnified in his mind. It was a delicate dance, a push-and-pull between his will and the stubborn shell. He could feel the subtle vibrations of the spine beneath, a terrifying reminder of the fragility of life. He took a shaky breath. The slug resisted. Roman visualized it again, focusing again on a single thread that he gently pulled. He could feel it moving a bit more, slowly but surely. It was difficult, but it was working.

Aadhir's presence was a welcome anchor in the chaos. His encouraging words were like a cool balm, easing the tension that had begun to grip Roman. "Thank you." Roman said, his voice barely a whisper, his eyes never leaving the patient. He could hear Cora behind him, the soft sounds of a muffled gag. He shook his head slightly dismissing the thoughts. He needed to concentrate. The slug had moved a little more, he felt like he was close.

He pushed a little harder, but with care. The slug was inching its way out, a tiny bit every second, but it was working. His hands were beginning to shake, his brows furrowing, his jaw tightening as he continued to pull, a bead of sweat trickling down his temple. This was it, he was so close. He took a deep breath and focused once again, picturing the slug, picturing it free. He pulled with a burst of determined energy, and finally, after what seemed like an eternity, the slug came free. It was a small, twisted piece of metal, coated in blood. Roman opened his hand, watching it fall to the floor with a soft clang. The soldier let out a soft groan, his body relaxing from the tension.

Roman reached out with the Force again, now to heal. He closed his eyes, reaching out to the wounded muscle, the damaged skin, the fractured bone. The energy flowed through him, a warm, tingling sensation. He pulled on the Force, a deep wellspring of power, and focused it on the wound. He could feel the tissue knitting itself back together, the flesh reforming, the bone mending. He pushed away any lingering pain that the man might have. He had done it. It was all done. He took a shaky breath, a slight thrum of energy still vibrating within him, a reminder of the strain. Yes, he did it! He was so happy to be able to do it, even if had left a little tax on himself.

A genuine smile bloomed on Roman's face, a mix of exhaustion and pride. He turned slightly to show Cora, holding out his empty hand where the slug had been. He was eager to share his success, to perhaps offer her some encouragement if she was struggling. He saw her then, the messiness of her clothes, the look on her face. Perhaps she wasn't doing so well as he was.

 

[Aris Noble]

Scents?

Aris had stepped over with Azurine to assist Aadihr, his eyes scanning the woman in question. Her breathing had been slowed drastically. Heartbeat the same. She was struggling, but the why certainly escaped Aris. What was he supposed to do here? His gaze drifted between Azurine and Aadihr as he tried to sort out something he could do to help. Nothing came to mind. Basic first aid didn't teach him how to handle someone who was having trouble breathing like this.

Azurine at least was able to figure out something. She seemed to.. Feel? Something happened with the Force he figured, a vision like Vera Noble had, but that didn't truly help him sort this out.

"I can smell something off, but I don't know if it's gas or something else."

Azurine Varek | Aadihr Lidos | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire | Sigil Bead Earring
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Legion Long Range Precision Rifle Mark I

Azurine's psychometric reading was illuminating, but concern grew in Aadihr's stomach. The patient had hit their head, but there was nofracture, nor internal hemorrhaging that Aadihr could see. Any toxic gas should have killed or had more obvious signs at this stage.

The brain was a complex organ, Aadihr couldn't just 'wash it' with life energy and expect it to heal itself without complications. Aadihr also began to feel helpless as he hooked a respirator to the patient, at least to keep the breathing stable.

The heartbeat still grew weaker. Aadihr would have to try something, anything. His heart sank as he realized there was a lesson yet to learn from this.

"This is an important lesson, but not one I'd wished to teach. We may not be able to save everyone- "

Aadihr gently set his palms on either side of the unconscious woman's head. He flushed the patient's mind with his life energy, guided by the force in an inefficient healing light. Afterwards, the woman's heartbeat stabilized, but she remained catatonic. She would not recover, the healing of her brain stabilizing her but locking her into this comatose state.

"But we must do the best we can with the what we have, and trust the Force and others to carry hope forward."

Perhaps with cybernetic or surgical intervention she could recover, but it was beyond what the field medics and the students could accomplish here. With a heavy heart, Aadihr waved the orderlies to send the patient's gurney to medevac, with others who needed more robust facilities suites for treatment and slow recovery.

Aadihr lowered his head in a silent apology to his Padawan and his friend. He had unfortunately given them an impossible task.

Aadihr stepped and stumbled, only just now realizing how much the blanket Force Healing had drained him.

Azurine Varek | Aris Noble | Roman Vossari | Corazona von Ascania​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

Aadihr Lidos Roman Vossari Azurine Varek Aris Noble

Though Cora nodded dimly, Aadihr's praise gave her a small spark of encouragement.

A small, shameful part of her wished that she'd performed so abysmally that the healer would kindly suggest she put her efforts toward winding bandages away from any warm bodies. One glance down at the patient - and the steady rise and fall of her chest - banished that selfish thought.

"Thank you, Knight Lidos." Cora waved a bloodied glove, her smile unsteady. "I don't care for this outfit, anyway," she lied.

As Aadihr excused himself to assess a new patient, another wave of nausea gripped her. The medic who'd joined her with the bioscanner was quick to dab a bit of clear liquid from a bottle onto a piece of gauze and pass it to the queasy Jedi.

At Cora's questioning look, he elaborated. "It's isopropyl alcohol. If you hold it under your nose," he mimed raising the tissue just above his lip, "it'll stop the nausea."

Skeptical, Cora did as he suggested. She was surprised to find that the sharp, pungent scent settled her churning stomach after a few moments.

With her nausea under control, she turned back to her work. The bioscanner made locating bits of shrapnel less labor intensive, though a few were embedded so deeply that they required the use of forceps to extract. With Aadihr's lesson on conserving energy fresh in her mind, Cora focused on one of the larger bleeders that remained.

Her upper lip twitched as her finger gently probed the wound, sinking in ever so slightly until she had a good sense of where the blood vessel was. Carefully, she guided the vein's wall to knit itself back together, stemming the bleeding. The medic sprayed down the wound with disinfectant again and packed it with gauze as Cora reclined to breathe.

Force, how did Knight Lidos and the other healers manage to do this so efficiently and without getting sick?

A flash of red - hair, not blood - beside her had Cora turning towards Roman as he dropped the slug. She blinked to his outstretched hand, but when she saw him smiling around the fatigue, she couldn't help but beam back at him with pride.

"You're a natural," she said. "And you did it without ruining your clothes, too."

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania | Aadihr Lidos | Aris Noble | Azurine Varek

​

Roman's smile widened at Cora's praise, his chest swelling with a mix of relief and pride. "You saw? You actually saw me do it?" He felt a burst of energy despite the lingering thrum in his bones, eager to bask in her approval. It was like a physical manifestation of his success. He had pulled the slug out, he had healed the man, he had actually done it! He wanted to talk about it, to analyze every moment of the process with her.

But his giddy excitement was cut short as the first patient was quickly wheeled away. Before Roman could even fully process that, the space was filled with another figure, a soldier, thrashing wildly, his screams echoing in the confined space. Roman's eyes widened in horror at the sight of the vibroaxe embedded in the man's right shoulder, the metal glinting terribly under the lights. It looked as if the man's arm was barely hanging on by a thread. The man's desperate cries, "Please, get it out! Please!" ripped through Roman's pride, replacing it with a knot of panic.

Without thinking, adrenaline surging through his veins, Roman lunged forward. All the calmness he had so carefully cultivated with the last patient was gone, replaced with a frantic need to help. He grabbed the handle of the vibroaxe, his mind blank except for the screams and the horrific sight before him. He yanked, not with control or grace, but with a raw, desperate surge of strength.

The axe came free with a sickening thwack, a horrifying spray of blood erupting and splattering across Roman's face, his clothes and the floor. He stumbled back, his hands flying to his mouth as he tried to catch his breath, his muscles suddenly weak.

A metallic taste filled his mouth as he looked down at the bloody vibroaxe in his hand, then over at the soldier, who was now writhing in agony, as a fresh torrent of blood poured from the gaping wound. Roman's mind whirled, completely overwhelmed. Where was Aadhir? He frantically scanned the room, desperate for the Knight's guidance, his heart hammering in his chest. He was so sure he could do this. But he was wrong.

 

[Aadihr Lidos]

Outfit: Field Attire | Sigil Bead Earring
Weapons: Walking stick / Lightsaber Pike | Legion Long Range Precision Rifle Mark I

The sound and smell of blood accompanied the shocked auras from Cor and Roman. Aadihr steadied himself from the sudden lightheadedness and quickened his pace towards the padawanwho had removed the weapon from the patient's arm joint, now rapidly losing blood.

Aadihr stumbled once more as he grabbed a fistful of gauze, roughly placing it over the shoulder to try to staunch the arterial flow. This was met with a sudden cry of pain from the unmedicated patient, who began to struggle.

"Roman, set the axe down - keep pressure on the wound." The patient roughly grabbed Aadihr wrist and pulled it free to relieve himself from the pain, scattering bloody gauze across the tent.

Forcefully, but not aggressively, Aadihr broke the patient's grip and used one hand to pin his uninjured wrist to the gurney, the other pushing his forehead into the platform to keep him from squirming.

"More bandages - staunch the blood flow first, heal the Axillary artery, we can assess joint and muscular damage after!" Aadihr's voice came out rougher than he intended, the emotional and physical exhaustion of the previous patient seeping through with the noisy man struggling against Aadihr.

"Sir if you don't settle down we might need to amputate, so unless you know a good cybernetics vendor, try to hold still!" The medics were already approaching with a sedative. Bedside manner was a weak point of Aadihr's, as he was beginning to learn.

Healing for small communities on the outer rim was a far cry from a post-battle emergency tent.

Aadihr could feel the warm blood flung about, spurting with increased force thanks to the patient's struggle increasing blood pressure.

One thing at a time. Guide them, teach and rely on them.

"Roman, Cora: More gauze, keep pressure on the wound."

Aadihr tried to keep pace with their movements, not to overwhelm them as the sedative had yet to calm the patient.
"The artery you're searching for runs from under the collarbone, between the deltoid and pectoral, and overtop of the bicep. Pinch off the blood flow on the collar bone side."

Using the force or not, stopping the incoming blood flow would make everything easier for everyone involved. The still-living blood made everything difficult to distinguish in the force spectrum, Cora and Roman would need to rely on their own vision and judgement to make the call of amputation vs reconnection.

"When the blood flow is under control, it's up to you to determine if a field amputation is necessary, or if the artery, nerves, and shoulder joint itself are recoverable enough to attach."

The sedative finally started reducing the patient's struggling.

Roman Vossari | Corazona von Ascania | Aris Noble | Azurine Varek​

 

[Aris Noble]

And just like that, everything had gone crazy. Aris blinked as he looked over to see Roman yank an axe from a man's arm. Panic ensued. Blood scattered and the patient flailed about in their pain. Oddly though, Aris was calm. He stepped over, watching how Aadihr was handling it, how the sedative was applied but how the man was still flailing in pain an desperation.

So Aris acted to help. He brought his lightsaber out, seeming to cut the man with it in a single, quick slash. They fell limp. Unmarked and unconscious, not dead. Entropite working overtime to knock them out cold.

"I'll cauterize it if we need. I can control the temperature enough to leave minimal damage to the surrounding tissue." It was as if a part of him had shut off. It had, in a way. Logic was needed, not emotion, and Aris had always been eerily logical.

Azurine Varek | Aadihr Lidos | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari

 

[Azurine Varek]

Healing Hands

Outfit: Clothing/Armor | Glove | Right Arm | Talisman
Weapons: Lightsaber 1 | Lightsaber 2 | Hook Swords

Azzie’s hands hung useless at her sides, her mind as blank as the expression she fought to keep neutral. What am I supposed to do? Her gaze flitted from the woman’s pale, still face to Aadihr’s trembling hands as he finished his work. The words he spoke—words meant to reassure, to comfort—only filled her chest with a leaden weight. She’d watched it happen, unable to do much else other than gain information, helpless as a droid without programming.

Her jaw tightened, and she forced herself to look at the woman on the gurney. Comatose. Breathing but not living. Aadihr’s words echoed in her mind: We may not be able to save everyone, but we must do the best we can with what we have. She would just have to pray that once the woman made it to a hospital, she would have a much better chance.

Azzie’s heart pounded, though, as she watched Aadihr sway on his feet. His face was pale, his posture slouched with the weight of exhaustion. His aura wasn't nearly as bright as it had been, and she could practically feel the exhaustion coming off of him. Her gut twisted as anger began to boil right beside her concern. What was he thinking pushing himself like that? Was it worth it? The thought hit her like a slap, and her anger cracked under the weight of guilt. Her fists clenched at her sides as she resisted the urge to storm over and shake some sense into him.

"Aadihr—" She was cut off before she continued as the Miralukan knight was quickly brought over to yet another difficult and dire situation. She knew she was a better help continuing with the less injured cases—too many cooks in the kitchen and whatnot—at least she thought so, but the frustration rose in her chest.

"Aadihr, you really need t—" Azzie was cut off once again, Aris moving over quickly to knock the man out. It was smart. The bleeding wouldn't stop, though. That frustration would eventually bubble up, spilling over into her movements and voice as she finally closed the distance between them. She had an idea, so as she did so, she focused the force into halting the blood flow by manipulating her understanding of barriers on the broken artery.

“Knight Aadihr Lidos,” she hissed, her tone sharper than she intended, hoping using the whole of his name and title might finally reach his ears. “Would you stop for one kriffing second and let someone else take over?! You’re going to drop if you keep this up!" Her chest heaved as she glared at him, her words laced with worry she couldn’t mask. She didn’t want to see him like this. She didn’t want to see him break. But she also didn’t know how to stop it.

Aadihr Lidos | Aris Noble | Corazona von Ascania | Roman Vossari​

 

[Corazona von Ascania]

It was like something out of a holodrama; one minute they were reveling in success, the next, they were struck by the cold, clinical reality of emergency medicine.

With her own patient stable and in the hands of another medic, she followed Aadihr's lead in packing the gash with gauze. It was difficult, though - the terrified patient was thrashing in pain, and he was not a small man. Several times her hands were jostled from the wound, scattering bloodied strips of gauze.

When Aris unleashed his lightsaber, Cora's eyes went wide. "Aris! What-" Her jaw dropped as he struck the patient, not at the site of the wound, but elsewhere. The man went limp, his cries and movement both ceasing. No mark was left behind.

Oh.

It took a few moments for her frazzled mind to recognize the energy-sapping effects of entropite, and that Aris' latent Sith genetic material had not seemingly taken over at an inopportune time.

Azurine was quick to move, too, focusing a precise micro-application of the Force to stem the blood flow where the axillary artery had been damaged. Her efforts brought them precious time as Cora's fingers traced the path Knight Lidos had described.

Under the collarbone, between the deltoid and pectoral, and overtop of the bicep.

Her fingers swept over the collarbone, and with a grimace, she probed the wound. Her stomach dropped as she found the artery nearly shredded.

With the intact portion of the vessel pinched between her thumb and forefinger, she looked to Roman. Innumerable applications of gauze had soaked up enough blood for them to get a better idea of what they were working with.

Shattered bone, severed nerves, and flesh nearly cleaved entirely from his person - the arm was more detached than it was attached at this point. She looked from Roman to the fingers of the damaged arm, pale with a blueish tint. They were running out of time.

In the periphery of her mind, she heard Azurine reprimand Aadihr for spreading himself too thin. Cora did not know either of them well, but the Zabrak's concerned tone spoke of their affinity for one another.

The patient's fingers had gone from a light blue to a deeper bluish-purple. Cora's mind raced. Perhaps if they were at a renowned medical facility, the arm could be saved. But they weren't; they were field medics with limited resources. Even the Force had its limits.

"Roman," she said, voice low and steady. "I don't think that we can save his arm. But we may be able to save him."

Roman Vossari Aadihr Lidos Azurine Varek Aris Noble

 

[Roman Vossari]

Tags: Corazona von Ascania | Aadihr Lidos | Azurine Varek | Aris Noble

​

The world was a blur of red and white. Red from the spraying blood, white from the sterile, unforgiving lights of the med bay. This isn't how it was supposed to go, Roman thought, the metallic tang still coating his tongue. He saw Aadhir finally push through the chaos, his face drawn with concern.

"Roman, set it down," Aadhir said, his voice calm but firm, gesturing to the vibroaxe clutched against Roman's chest. It felt heavy, tainted. It slipped from his numb fingers, clattering onto the durasteel floor. He bent, frantically grabbing fresh gauze, pressing it against the soldier's wound alongside Cora. The man thrashed, a guttural scream escaping his lips. Then, unbelievably, Aris… did something. Just touched the man with his blade. And he went limp.

Roman stumbled back, raising his blood-slicked hands. "I… I didn't…" He stepped back again, catching his boot on the discarded vibroaxe. A flustered kick sent it skittering further away. Azurine was now a whirlwind of controlled Force, her voice sharp, scolding Aadhir. It was all too much, a cacophony of panic and precision.

Then Cora's voice cut through the haze, low and steady.

He looked. Really looked. Past the blood, past the initial shock. He saw the shattered bone, glistening wetly. Severed nerves, twitching uselessly. The flesh, a ragged, almost complete separation. The arm… it was barely hanging on. The fingers were a ghastly blue-purple, almost black. It was dead weight, a liability.

Cora was right. It was now or never.

He had to be calm. Like Aris. Act decisively. Like Aadhir. Focus. He reached for the familiar weight at his side. His lightsaber hilt. He ignited it, the cyan blade humming to life, a beacon of icy resolution in the bloody chaos.

With a deep breath, Roman moved, his hand surprisingly steady. He targeted the spot Cora indicated, just below the ravaged joint. One clean, swift stroke. The smell of cauterized flesh filled the air, acrid and sharp. The blade hissed as it severed the remaining tissue, sealing the wound instantly.

The arm, no longer attached, landed with a heavy thud on the floor. Roman extinguished his lightsaber, clipped it back to his belt. He stared at the stump of the soldier's shoulder, now cauterized, smoking slightly. He'd done it.


There it was. The severed arm. Lying on the floor, pale and lifeless, a final testament to the horrors of war. It was… smaller than he expected. And oddly… floppy.

In the sudden silence, a bizarre thought bloomed in Roman's mind. He reached down and gingerly picked up the arm, holding it aloft. The weight was surprisingly heavy.

"Knight Aadhir?" he asked, his voice a little too high-pitched. "What do I do with this?"