Things happened very fast.
Aveline had thought the situation under control, herself in control, yet not considered the factor of the Force sensitives behind her. They might intervene too, of course.
"Kark" she muttered, looking in shock at the piece of glass impaled onto Baulen. A heroic gesture, though one she wished she could have prevented. Still, it was no use dwelling on the maybes, this was what was happening.
It wasn't obvious to Aveline at first that the wound wasn't fatal, and she rushed over to him. She was no medic, but she put what she hoped was an experienced and unconcerned eye on him.
"A flesh wound." Ladies love scars, she almost said, though it no longer seemed appropriate for jokes.
Aveline could only be grateful that the crowd didn't join in, that violence didn't seem to escalate at this point. Perhaps it was the final flashpoint that showed calmer heads that things had already gone too far.
She used the moment to close her eyes,
focus, and reach out with the Force. The Force was her ally, her companion. She felt for his wound, asked for it to close... Nothing. Aveline was no healer, and she imagined the initiates of the arts started small.
Aveline was no healer, she was a fighter... And in that moment, the simplicity of battlefield logic dawned on her.
"Stand back" she urged whatever of the crowd had come close, either to help or to look at the wounded man. To Zatch, she said in no uncertain terms
"Hold him" To Baulen, she said
"Don't you fethin' move" They both knew she didn't have to tell him this was going to hurt.
Aveline ignited her blue lightsaber, holding it clear out to her side. Then, with calm precision, she held it over his bleeding wound, and pressed down.
Caltin Vanagor