Faction Thanksgiving in War | Silver Jedi Concord & Friends

[Jorah zos Darnus]

C H A L A C T A
Mid-Rim | Concord Retreat Line

The Witches of the Mistwalker clan knew what it was like to flee one's home in the face of inasion.

Many centuries ago, their ancestral Nightsisters had done so to escape the genocide of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. More recently, their children had done so again, fleeing Talay when it had become the hotbed of war between the new Confederacy and its enemies.

When that had happened, the Silver Jedi had welcomed the Mistwalkers as refugees.

Now, there was more pain, more suffering, more genocide. In centuries, the galaxy had not changed. But the Mistwalkers remembered how others had treated them as refugees, and this was an opportunity to be grateful.

Grateful for the help that they had received.

Grateful that they were in a position to be able to offer aid to others..

Grateful that there were still survivors to help.

Overnight, Chalacta had become the new border with the Bryn'adul. Tensions were incredibly high. Suddenly, the political situation on Commenor or the debate with the Galactic Alliance, or even internally with the Jedi Order, seemed of little consequence. Here, the war was real. The Chalactans did not just face invasion, but the possible loss of their entire culture. Their entire way of life.

But Chalacta worried about tomorrow. Their worst fears had already been realized by the Klatooninians, the Nikto, and the Lervon. Already, plans for accommodating the volume of refugees was being hastily worked into a plan of action. Some were headed for Arsenae, others to Kashyyyk. Still more planets were being asked to provide aid.

There were so many, and still too few from the planets lost to the Bryn'adul madness.

Chalacta was one of the first stops on the way to safety. While the Antarian Rangers moved quickly to shore up their defenses, the Circle of Healers and the Mistwalkers had found an ally in the Chalactan Adepts, transforming the Temple of Illumination into a triage center and field hospital. Already, the hospitals on the planet had been filled to capacity and the medical ships of the Concord stretched for both space and resources as they continued to respond to the critical needs of the fleet.

The Force Healers of the Jedi seemed skeptical at the magics employed by the Dathomirians. Several Nightsister skulls surrounded the area, while several Nightsisters and Nightbrothers focused on channeling the Waters of Life from the spirit realm to aid in the Witches healing arts.

Jorah was assisting with the less critical patients. Weaving his arms around the Nikto, he was using the spirit ichor to ease the burns that marked part of the man's body.

It had been like this all morning.

And more were still arriving.

 

[Ura Iolar]

Ura was running around frantically, asking every Lervon she could find if they had seen her family. Yes, she was trying to help get everyone where they needed to go, but she was worried. She hadn't heard from them, and the attack happened so fast.... She looked around as survivors walked in, asking for help and where to go. She'd a least found one family member though. Her older brother, Fero, who was the Lervonian version of a doctor. He looked at a pair that came in, examining them together.

"Looks like either glazing or partial melt has fuse you're crystal masses together. Head over there. There's a doctor who should be able to split you two." It was hard for most to tell but they were thankful, and stated walking that way before Fero looked at his sister.

"I know you're worried, but I'm sure they're ok." Ura just stopped, pointing another refugee to where they needed to go.

"How do you know, Fero. Look at all this! It all... it just.... How could anyone do this...?" She then decided to walk away and check on the other patents, just hoping no one else would notice how she was feeling.

Jorah zos Darnus

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

Reaching up, the boy seemed to grasp hold of the greenish mist with his fingers, pulling it down so that the ethereal haze was directed at a burn mark on a woman's shoulder. As the Waters of Life touched upon her, the boy uttered an incantation while the magic began to repair the tissues of the body. When the spell had finished casting, the burned skin had repaired itself, leaving no more than a red welt.

Turning away to where his apothecary's satchel lay on a counter top, the Dathomirian boy produced a balm of greybush aloe. Passing that over to the woman, the youth ventured back out into the hallways.

In part to see who else might need assistance.

And in part to get a break.

As he emerged, he nearly collided with a strange figure. Brown, yet not of skin. Not of flesh anyway. Instead, it seemed to be a humanoid frame composed of sand. With crystalline eyes that pulsated with an odd color.

And there was more than one.

"Taedsa ama?" the boy uttered, switching to his native tongue as he spoke over the Nightsister who had been in the healing chamber nearest his.
Sand spirits?

The Sister raised her eyes, stoically observing the strangers for a moment before she turned her gaze down to the younger Brother. "Tlesu bisi j'lelrar, Jorah. Ceat id taletseh sharen."
Do not stare, Jorah. We likely seem strange to them.

That wasn't an answer to his question.

Whatever these creatures were, if they were here then it was because they needed assistance. Except, how did one know when a being a sand needed help? And how did one treat a body of sand?

Jorah had many questions.

Wandering through the halls, he came upon one such creature with green eyes. For lack of anything better to say, the boy opted for, "Are you all right?"

Ura Iolar​

 

[Ura Iolar]

Ura was a bit surprised when she saw a Dathomirian walk up. Her eyes widened a little, and her brother focused on the two he was trying to help. She looked at him, closing her eyes for a second as worry washed ever her.

"I... uh... kind of.... My bother here's a doctor from our homeworld who can help, and... those two are here for help, and them, and her, and...." She stopped, realizing how many she'd be pointing too.

"Have any others of our kind come in with the name Iolar?" It seemed to be a long shot, but it was worth asking.

Jorah zos Darnus

 

[Subject 648 Slipknot]

Ura Iolar Jorah zos Darnus

Pain.

Agony.

Suffering.

Slip was surrounded on all sides by these feelings, but he kept on working. He had to keep on working.

While many of the healers and doctors were dealing with physical injuries, Slip was working on injuries that didn't appear on the surface. He was working with mental traumas and such. Many people here were scarred from what had happened, and had developed disorders from the traumas they had to go through, especially stress disorders. It was pretty bad, as nearly everyone here was dealing with the shock and trauma from what was going on.

But Slip was doing his best.

Now, he was crouched next to a young boy who had miraculously survived, but his entire family had died. The boy hadn't even spoken, he just stared at everything happening around him, as if the shock of what had happened still hadn't fully set in. Meanwhile, Slip was using the Force, viewing inside the boy's mind, and using it to try and calm the boy, calming him down. Slip viewed his memories. He saw everything. His parents, his siblings, the joy he felt when being with them. Then, the terror and pain during the attack, and the fear and utter desolation as their dead bodies lay in front of him. Slip felt the pain of the boy wash over him. Slip could tell why the boy was in such pain, the trauma of the experience would stay with him if Slip didn't handle this. He let the pain of the boy wash over him, absorbing it, bringing the pain onto himself, while using the Force to calm the boy, and show him memories that he cherished, that he enjoyed.

Soon, it was over, and finally, the boy allowed himself to rest, falling asleep. Slip felt the connection cut off, and he stood up shakily, beads of sweat falling off of his face. Slip had been working for... he had no idea, and by this point he had lost track of how many patients he had treated, or tried to treat. Some people just couldn't be saved from the pain, but Slip did his best to alleviate it. Continually taking on the pain of others... it was exhausting, but Slip knew he had to work. He wanted to make sure that no one would be like him: broken, forgotten, alone. Someone had to be their to share and understand their pain in a way no one else could. He understood how much help it would be just to be there for someone, especially when they were in such pain and fear.

Then, he felt a familiar presence, in a state of nervousness and worry. He had felt this presence before... Then, he turned, and recognized Ura, a friend of his.

Then, he wondered how he had recognized her. How did he know it was her when there were countless other Lervon that looked just like her around? Slip wondered about this for a bit, then gave up, without an answer. But he did recognize that it was his friend, and that she was in trouble.

Slip walked over to her, and heard her asking a Nightbrother if he had seen other Lervons with the name Iolar. Slip thought to the Lervons he had seen and healed their minds... There were a lot of them, but for if he had met any named Iolar... Maybe...

"Hey, Ura," He called out to her, grabbing her attention as he walked over to the two. "I think I have seen members of your family... I met a group of Lervon down that way," Slip said, pointing to his left. "And I think at least one of them mentioned the name Iolar. I can lead you to them if you like."

Then, he turned to the Dathomirian boy. "You're a healer? Good, we'll need your help. A lot of people down that way haven't received any medical attention, and the healers there are swamped. I also think the Nightsister overseeing that area dislikes me, as when I was healing a patient, he started screaming and shouting nonsense and made a commotion, disturbing the other patients, and now I think she hates me, so I think I'll need some help with that." Slip said.

 

[Jorah zos Darnus]

The sand spirit spoke!

It was a little overwhelming. Jorah had traveled enough that he knew there were many non-humanoid types of aliens. Tynnans. Toydarians. Hutts. But, this was a lot of sand. And glowing eyes.

So, Jorah was glad for the distraction when a human approached, and then spoke to the sand spirit as though familiar with it. With him? With her? What kind of pronouns did one use with a sand spirit?

...or Lervon? Was that their name?

The new teen seemed to know more of what was going on with these sand spirits. Or, at least, he seemed to have an answer for the question about any with that name. "I am a healer, yes" the boy stated, answering the question when the teen had posed it to him.

A Nightsister was mad at him? Possibly. It could also just be that he was a male. The Jedi seemed used to a society where men spoke and acted quite freely around women. In Dathomirian society...

...not so much, no.

So it was quite easy for Jorah to imagine a number of ways that a male could have offended a Nightsister. "I'll help however I can," the boy remarked finally.

Subject 648 Slipknot Ura Iolar​

 

[Ura Iolar]

Ura was shocked to see Slip, but seemed happy. Especially when she heard that he may've seen some of her family.

"You... you think.... Yes! Yes please! I... I have to know." Ura was quick to follow Slip to where he said he'd heard, her brother how ever stayed put. He closed his eyes a little out of hope that the odd Padawan was right. Now though, he needed to focus on two stuck Lervon he had there, and separating the glass glazed crystals.

Jorah zos Darnus Subject 648 Slipknot