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Ylesia


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The exhaustion was so utter that she could not have felt Aidan’s presence unless she had caught his eye. One glance up from her last patient and she could feel an involuntary smile creep up her tired face. She deftly tied off the bacta bandage and slowly stood up. She knew she must have looked a wreck, clothes burned and torn, and covered in dried blood. But for a glimmering moment she was happy. Pure unadulterated happiness that caused the pallour of two days of constant fighting and destruction to lift. If only for a moment. But what a blissful moment it was. 

 

She quickly walked towards the imperial knight, struggling with a thousand different emotions. Many which brought a healthy tear to her eyes, and which overflowed in dirty cascades down her cheeks as she gave him a light and wound avoiding hug. 

 

“I’m so glad you made it Aidan.” 

 

Her voice was a hoarse whisper as she placed one hand lightly upon the red bandage that covered his torso. Her eyelids fluttered closed for a moment, and she drew heavily upon the force. Letting the force move through her joy, through her love, and into the deep cut wound. Within a few minutes of work the wounds had at least stopped bleeding and a healthy scab had formed where burned and destroyed flesh had once been. 

 

Only then did she notice the young girl in the outfit of the Naboo starfighter corps. She wanted to ask ten thousand questions, but settled on the only one she cared for. 

 

“How have you been Aidan?”

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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“Considering we had the majority of the non training Jedi Order on location at Nar Shaddaa…” She lifted her tired head and scanned the crowds of refugees. “We are likely in the same boat as the Imperial Knights.” It was an odd turn of phrase, but she had been raised on the backwater world of Gala after all. Where such old phrases were commonplace. But she did not speak her fears, though the Jedi Order had always been much larger than the revanchist faction of imperial allied Knights. They had likely been just as decimated. And as a Jedi Council member she would need to see the compiled list of names, likely many pages long of all those that died as heroes in this latest engagement. 

 

Would the fighting ever end? Would they finally have the chance to catch their breath? She did not speak that worry to Aidan, but instead leaned in for another hug. Pulling him close, close enough to smell the scent of death and fire in his hair. She probably smelled the same, but she did not care. A few seconds later she pulled herself back from him. 

 

“The Jedi have always been welcoming to the Imperial Knights. If you need help rebuilding, we will help.” 

 

They had been fighting alongside each other for what felt like a decade by now. She looked from Aidan to the Queen and gave her a quick curtsie before beckoning them both towards one of the barrack prefabs that had been placed in the low point of the triage zone.

 

“That is the Jedi barrack, please take a shower or whatever you need. There is food and fresh clothes for the both of you.” 

 

What she did not say was how empty the barrack was, or that they had a lot of extra equipment and rooms because of how few Jedi had actually made it safely home. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

The heated water ran across her body, washing a mix of blood, grime, and duracrete dust into the drain at her feet. It would undoubtedly be collected and recycled, and with the distinct lack of Jedi population in the surviving quarters, she let herself spend a few extra minutes under the warm water. She let her mind wander, enjoying the emptiness, and feeling wave after wave of exhaustion wash away from her. She breathed slowly as the water cascaded over her face, letting it wash every bit of grime and sweat away, mixing it with the cares and fears that she had carried throughout the battle, letting them drain away until her mind was solid again. 

 

Aidan had survived. The Council had survived, the Imperial Knights had survived. Her friends had survived. The Alliance would continue, and they might even turn the tide…

 

Her eyes caught the corner of her datapad, and she saw the headlines. Nar Shadda lay in ruins, and the empress’s ship destroyed. The Fleets scattered to the winds. She gulped back another surge of emotion, then stepped out of the steaming refresher unit. It was time to face the day, and time to face the future. She could not stay in the safety of a shower forever, just like she could not stay meditating forever. There was a future to find, and a new life to build. 

 

She dried quickly, slipped into a pale blue tunic that was slightly too large, which she tied down with the belt around her thin waist, before walking across the hallway to where she could feel Aidan. She tapped on his door and waited to see if he would answer. 

 

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She let the kiss linger for longer than it probably should have. Enjoying the warmth of his embrace and the firm pressure of his arms around her waist. In those strong arms she felt the peace that she had always longed for, and if her Comm had not so irritatingly chirped, she may have been able to have stayed longer. But her life was not her own, and the few pleasures that she was afforded would need to be postponed. In peacetime there would be time to rest, to let the dark circles under her eyes finally go away. But there was more to do. 

 

She gave him a sad smile and walked away. Striding the long twisting halls of the prefab barracks as she flipped open the holographic display on her comm unit. It was a message from the makeshift port authority telling her of another delivery of medical supplies from Corellia that was destined for the medical tents. Mundane as it might be, in a refugee camp, there was always the threat of such supplies going missing, or being acquisitioned by the wrong authorities. 

 

She shrugged her light pack over her shoulders and had begun to push her way through the long lines of refugees when she felt a prickling at the back of her neck. It was not danger, but it was certainly the touch of an unfamiliar mind on hers. She stopped and let the force flow freely into her, washing away the tiredness and clearing her vision completely. She could feel fear and anxiety in the force, and she would track that mind down. 

 

A young mind, alien to her own human one. An Apprentice? She reached out in turn. Pinpointing the small presence in the force and she pushed her way through the crowd until she saw a very lost looking blue Nautolan, Not too many years younger than herself. Wearing the robes of a jedi apprentice. 

 

“Are you lost Apprentice? Where is your master?”

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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She could feel her own eyebrows raise for a moment at the young man’s revelation, it was certainly coming as a surprise, and since she was often one of the Jedi who were deployed to active war and conflict zones, she had her doubt that such a nervous young boy would be of any advantage to her. It was a great way to get an apprentice killed, and the weight of that revelation caused a frown to cross her freckled face. 

 

“Well met Mekuma Simka.” She extended her hand in the classic human gesture of greeting. “Tell me about yourself and all that you have learned at the temple as we walk together.” 

 

She set off towards the large medical ward that dominated the plateau the temporary spaceport was nestled into. If there was any way to harden a new apprentice, or get them to ask for a transfer it was to take them straight into the heart of darkness. To see and experience the horrors of war first hand. To witness death and decay, heartbreak and injury that he would experience every day of his life if the war dragged on longer.

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“Do not let small defeats and dismays bring your spirit low.” She laid her hand lightly on the apprentice’s back as they stepped into the Refugee Triage unit. “You must take each encounter in stride. Do not rely on pride to bolster yourself, and do not embrace dismay. Encounter everything with a desire to learn. I am not disappointed in you, nor do I reject your appeal to become my apprentice. So chin up, and you may want to hold your breath when we enter the ward.” 

 

For someone who had trained under the great healers on the old Gala Temple, Sandy still was affected every time she walked into a triage. Pain echoed through the force, mixed with the copper smell of blood, and the stench of vomit, it would bring many able beings to turn and walk away. But it did not deter the young Jedi Apprentice and nor did it deter Sandy. Except the slight tingle of danger that ran up her spine at the arrival of the Twi’lek and her droid. 

 

She gave the black skinned twi’lek a look of appraisal, before putting her hand on her apprentice’s arm. Indicating him to put away his training blade, for there was no threat in Keenava’s eyes or aura. She inclined her head to the older woman in greeting then looked back to Ruin. 

 

“Thank you for bringing her to me, please give my dearest affections to your master. And best of luck to you in your hunts.” 

 

She waved for the Twi’lek to come closer and for her to walk beside young Meku as they began to enter the medical ward. Most of the screaming was dulled by the soundproofed curtains that were strung between each long line of beds, but it was still very audible, causing Sandy to have to raise her voice. 

 

“We are here to heal and serve, you are most welcome to join us if you are up for the task. Keep an eye for the black tags. They are the ones that only the force can save.” 

 

She would get to know the Twi’lek as they worked, just as she would get to know Meku. There was nothing to be ashamed or nervous about. She was glad the ebony twi’lek had left the shadows of the darkside behind her. And only time would tell if she would be bale to stay away from its temptations. 

 

 She pulled aside a curtain on a black tagged triage unit and saw a long line of victims, some dozen or so laid out as neatly as possible, hooked up to little more than pain medications to keep them from screaming their way into the grave. She knelt beside the bedside of a silent and horribly burned young woman. Human. Late teens. A survivor of one of the many evacuation shuttles that had been shelled by the sith on their way out of the gravity well projectors. A single glance at the holographic chart explained it, the burns were radiological and had come from one of the decimator torpedoes that the Sith had been using. 

 

“Now both of you sit beside me.” She waited until they had knelt beside her then she placed both of her hands onto the huge and seeping wounds. “Watch, learn, and consider.” 

 

Her eyelids fluttered closed and she let the force flow through her. Gathering in its tides and waves as she began to reach out to the young woman at her fingertips. Pain, suffering, despair, guilt. It all roiled out of the young woman, like the waves of radiation that had melted and burned her flesh. 

 

“Many wounds, both physical and mental, have their source in the mind.” Her voice was so soft. Barely above a whisper as she concentrated. “The body will obey the mind always, even to the point of destroying itself and giving up a struggle it can win.”

 

The force echoed in the young woman’s pain. Flashing horrible memories with each unsteady heartbeat. A life long in its suffering. Slavery, freedom, family, death, despair, agony. Each thought and idea flashed before her eyes like she had been seeing them herself. But deep below the pain, in the farthest crevasse of the memory she could feel the hope. The joy of family, even the sad and resolute joy of a family now gone. A love that could never be taken away. A love that would endure through a long recovery. 

 

“In life, even in the pain, there is love and there is joy to find solace in. From the smallest memory or love, or desire, they are enough to carry this woman through what is to come. And when she has recovered enough, she can choose for herself how to go forward.” 

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Sandy let a smile flash across her face for a moment as she watched Keenava and then young Meku understand the first of her teachings. There was much to say about the lesson, much to caution about love and how its pursuit could become perverted and dark, how one could become completely lost in its shadow and never emerge again. But those lessons could only be taught when she knew Keenava and Meku. With their acquaintance only just beginning, anything like a lecture on love would only feel misplaced and even harmful. 

 

It was good to see Meku caring for the ex-sith, even offering a set of medical scrubs to replace the scraps that she had been wearing. It was a good sign of the heart of the young apprentice. When the twi’lek had returned in a different set of clothes Sandy stood and looked each in the eye before she spoke. 

 

“Now we have many more patients to work with before the day is spent, and you will see death close at hand. Are you ready for that task?”

 

The way of the Jedi was a harsh one, one fraught with death and loss. And there was no better way to show them the way of the Jedi than to see it close at hand. She gestured down the ward to where an imperial marine was laying, his body covered in the burns that could only come from lightning summoned by the force. 

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  • 2 weeks later...

From the twitching of Keenava’s lekku, there was a lot moving under the surface of the ex-sith lord. Her complicated past would reveal itself in time Sandy knew, and such things should not be picked at, nor should they be exposed in front of an audience. It could take years for the woman to be comfortable enough to expose her pain and work on its healing. But that was what Sandy was for, and she had been through a lot of pain and darkness in her early years as well. 

 

So she gave the black skinned twi’lek a warm smile, and walked with her and Meku to the foot of the Marine’s bed. Where the smell of burned flesh was now nearly overwhelming. 

 

The marine stared up towards the ceiling of the triage tent, his eyes slowly tracing the lines of fabric, counting each thread he could see as he tried to fight against the urge to scream, or to cry out in pain. He was a soldier, and he knew that as such he should bear the pain with grace and dignity. The infernal sounds of crying and begging that echoed down the long tent from other victims turned his stomach. If there was much of a stomach to turn left after his encounter with the Sith. 

 

But his eyes betrayed his fear. His fear of unmanning himself before the end. The fear of not knowing if his family had made it off world. They had lost so many friends at Kuat, even grandpa… and he had not yet repaid the galaxy for what his father had done at…but he did not want to think about that. And if his family had made it out, his son would redeem the family line and the imperial pension board would take care of Lucy. They had to. 

 

He took a deep breath that faltered near its end into a long stream of extremely painful coughs. Each cough causing his torn and burned flesh to grate against destroyed nerves until his coughs ended in a long hiss of pain. His bandages now soaked with the greasy brown of burned and denatured blood. 

 

“Sergeant Alsinon.” 

 

Sandy spoke softly as she walked to his side. Trusting that her two apprentices would listen and observe. If they looked at him through the force, they would see that his life was now measured in seconds and minutes. His internal organs thoroughly destroyed by the rage of the Sith. The man looked up with eyes that could barely see and Sandy reached into the force to guide her words. Flashes of his worry came before her eyes. And she seized at the very root of many. 

 

“You have fought well, and no stain remains of your past.” 

 

His sightless eyes widened.

 

“Now go in peace and joy. Walk again in the sunlight without shame.”

 

Sandy laid her hand softly on his brow. And the man breathed no more. For as much as the Jedi were healers, they were also comforters of the dying. 

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As the force moved through Sandy Sarna, she let it flow in and out of her like a tide. Relieving the pain of the dying woman beside her. She was swathed in bacta bandages that had bled through in transport, her skin and organs coming apart from deep tissue radiation damage with every jostle of the medical evacuation ship. It had been a turbulent journey, and the young imperial officer cried silent tears that streaked blood red down the side of her face into a congealed mess of her now equally red hair. 

 

The Jedi would not speed the natural death of someone who could not be saved, but they were there to comfort and lead like angels to the gates of hades. She could feel her own tears sliding gently down her tired face. Unimaginably hot as they traced their way to her chin. 

 

Bacta had miraculous powers, moreso when paired with the organic and ancient kolto that was still shipped off of Manaan. But it was not a cure all, and with only so many tanks and supplies, many of the most grievously wounded were given sedatives and left to pass away as peacefully as they could. In that way, as well as many others, the stain of the tragedy of the Nar Shaddaa permeated the force around them. It stuck to the refugees and the wounded like a thick oil, oozing out of their pores with every heaving breath or sobbing cry. 

 

Sandy felt the grip of the young officer strengthen for a moment, her clear gray eyes staring into Sandy’s as she struggled against a dissolving larynx to speak. There was resolve there in her eyes, where minutes before they had been clouded with pain. 

 

“Tell him Serro I still love him.” 

 

Sandy returned the grip with her own. Squeezing the woman’s hand hard as she nodded. 

 

“I will.” 

 

And the young officer smiled once, before her face went slack and she breathed no more. Sandy held the grip for a minute before her other hand reached up and closed the sightless gray eyes that stared without fear into oblivion. One death among the trillions that had perished in the battle of Nar Shaddaa. If ever there was evidence of a tear in the force, a great tragedy that would last a multitude of generations. Spinning a trauma that could last until the last star in the galaxy burned into a shroud of darkness. 

 

It was something to discuss with the council, if anyone of the council still remained alive. She could sense Leena, and even see her, but Draygo she could not feel. Nor could she feel Kirlocca. And for a moment she could feel a rush of emotion as her heart sank for him. He had found someone truly special in the Empress, and now with her death, she could not fathom how he must feel. It would cut her to the core if she lost Aidan. He had been her cornerstone since she was a teenager. So as she stood and tried to wipe away the tiredness of the day, she whispered a prayer for Kirlocca before opening her eyes to look for her apprentices. 

 

They were both assisting in the comfort of the wounded as they should have been. She glanced up to the Roene and gave him a nod of appreciation before gesturing the two apprentices to her. 

 

“I believe it is time that we break for a while, get some food in us and get to know each other before we continue into exhaustion.” 

 

She gestured them to follow her to the sanitation station and from there into the small attached cafeteria which was sparsely populated with exhausted medical staff and a few serving droids that were dishing up food. She grabbed a non discript salad and sat down at one of the empty tables, when they had joined her she gave them each a smile before taking a bite of her food. 

 

“So tell me about yourselves. What brings you here and what are you are trying to become.” 

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  • 1 month later...

Sandy nodded solemnly as the older woman began to speak. 

 

“I want to know about you, to learn to appreciate you for who you are today, not whoever you used to be.” She did not need to know every last dark secret the woman possessed. It Would be unfair to ask someone to be so vulnerable and to reveal their trauma before they were comfortable with such a thing. She leaned forward and looked into the other woman’s eyes. Emerald green looking into bright amethyst. 

 

“I am not going to judge you, for you have chosen a different path than what you were walking before, that is all that matters.” She gave the woman a smile that was genuine. The corners of Sandy’s mouth turning up and revealing the slight latticework of pale scars that traced up her freckled face. A gift from her very first mission in the Jedi order. A mission that had left far more than just physical scars. 

 

“I do not know how far you have come, and I do not need to know. But I do want to say that I am proud of you for making that change. I know many strong men and women that did not choose to turn their back on the addiction that is the dark side.” 

 

It was strange to be proud of someone she had just met, but she could feel the surge of emotion in her breast. There was hope in Keenava. A hope that the Galaxy would need. 

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  • 1 month later...

Very few Sith began their journey with that soul ambition. It was true that many came from trauma, only to later inflict a trauma on all those who they interacted with later in their journey. Was it calloused self deception? Or a selfish desire that led them to choose the swiftest path to healing? The thought was one that had constantly tickled at the back of her mind since her encounter with her old mentor in the Maw. Even in that small reflection she could feel the warmth of his blood on her hands. And the smell of boiling flesh and blood crept into the back of her nostrils with her next breath. If she let it, the memory could overwhelm her, dragging her back to the Eternal Vigilance as it was being pulled into the abyss of the Maw. But it was important to not let such a memory have a power over her, and with a blink the face of her old mentor was replaced by the pretty face of the twi’lek. 

 

That, afterall, was the life of a Jedi, to deal with the traumas of a galaxy in a century of nearly constant war, while dealing with their own personal journey. So she listened to the woman’s tale, reflecting upon how she could have been in the very same place if she had made only a few other decisions in her own life. And would she have had the strength to pull herself out? Sandy did not know, but she did know that the Twi’lek should be commended for surviving such a tragic journey. And that she would be a lifelong friend. 

 

“Thank you for trusting me with your experiences. You will never go back, not if I have any say in the matter!” She gave the woman a genuine smile. “If you saw these old masters before you now, say if Exodus walked through those doors behind you, what would you do? Would you seek a revenge for your treatment?” 

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  • 3 weeks later...

She gave the woman’s hand a tight squeeze before she let go. 

 

“I think most of us in the Jedi Order have our own unique tale of woe. Though before I start my own journey I must say that your outlook and direction towards those that hurt you, is admirable and very healthy."

 

It was the approach of a Jedi knight, and even if the woman never set another foot onto the path of the Jedi, Sandy could feel a bud of hope grow in a section of her mind. A hope towards the future of the galaxy that had only ever, much like this woman, seen the ravages of abuse and war. 

 

Some jedi try for decades to release their trauma in such a way, your approach gives me a lot of hope towards the future of the galaxy.” And perhaps the future of those many Sith that had disappeared after the end of the battle in Nar Shaddaa. The Knights claimed that they had not died, as many had claimed, and the rumours regarding the soul of the Empress being lost in the fight told her much more about the future of the Galaxy. But for now,  There could be healing, even in in places where the light has rarely shone. 

 

She held up a thin white hand where the telling micro scars of skin grafting could still be seen. As she began to talk. How much to tell? How much to tell of a failed mission that had turned her life on its head? A failure of Galactic alliance and Jedi High command. A master sending her still untrained apprentice into a den of slavers with nothing but a training saber? An ambush, capture, failed rescue attempt. Rape, torture, leering grins from the shadows of her cell. Days of it turning to weeks. Rescue, and then the long solitude and depression. Failure, hate, despair. 

 

She turned the hand over, a long line of crisscrossed marks stretching from wrist up to disappear in the hem of her tunic. A patchwork of pain and despair, written into flesh with a pen of sharpened steel. Lines crossed over lines, and though they were now faint, no amount of bacta could remove that old self infliction. But when at last, in the depths of despair, abandoned by masters and friends alike, she had held her lightsaber to the side of her head, the trusty weapon had failed. 

 

At that point there was hope, even as slim as it may have been, she had clung to it.Pulling herself up from the depths of despair, each hope leading to the next, until she was able to rebuild herself. It was a tale of woe, but one she was glad to share with a friend. 

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  • 3 weeks later...

Sandy smiled in response to the touch that traced the scars on her hand and arm. There was peace there, an understanding that passed between them that could not be easily expressed. A pain that they had both experienced, and a healing that would come in time. And in that moment at least, Sandy could sense a seed of friendship blossoming between the two of them. A pure and genuine one, which brought a wide smile to her pale lips and she clasped the other woman’s hand just as tightly. 

 

“Thank you, Keenava.” 

 

Who knew that in the midst of a horrific loss of life, the near destruction of an Alliance planet, and galactic turmoil, there was still an opportunity to meet a friend? Sandy was grateful for it, even though she knew even in the speaking, that their time for rest was nearly finished. Her datapad chimed annoyingly, persistently informing her that she had been dispatched on another mission for the Jedi Order. She sighed and sat back, releasing the other woman's hand and reaching into the pouch that hung from her belt. A single glance told her that a priority mission was in the works and that her presence was requested at the command headquarters a few kilometers away. 

 

Her green eyes glanced up from the screen and she sat he datapad down on the table beside her. “I have been summoned, and another mission takes me off world in a few hours. I do not want to pressure you to follow with me, but if you wished to, you would be most welcome.”

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  • 4 weeks later...

Sandy looked from her datapad to Leena, then to her friend's new apprentice. then at last to Keenava. The briefing was a quick one, more of an outline than anything final and set in duracrete. But it was her responsibility to make the mission work, and she would not have chosen a better Jedi team than the few people that stood around her. 

 

“Thank you for joining me on such late notice, as the situation stabilizes on the galactic front, it appears there are still dozens if not hundreds of Sith allied worlds whose governments have not been willing to or have been unable to approach the Alliance for help. One such world is called Falleen. A previously peaceful world whose goverment was overthrown by the Sith. We have not been able to establish contact since, and any reports speak of a blood cult, slavery, and massive brainwashing programs.” 

 

She looked up again. 

 

“We are to infiltrate the planet under disguise, identify leadership, and identify if there is a way to help the people of Falleen overthrow their oppressors, or if it should be left to the Imperial Military.” 

 

She smiled wanly at the thought. “We are not a member of the alliance military due to being Jedi Affiliated, which gives us a lot more leeway in how we proceed. Are you in?”

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  • 3 weeks later...

The datapad laid out the bulk of the mission details and was surprisingly in depth with its functional knowledge of Falleen. Most of the information likely had been plundered from the minds of the Sith Survivors over Nar Shaddaa by enterprising Imperial interrogators who were eagre to find anything and everything that could teach them the fate of their beloved Empress. And though the Falleen cultists had been scarce in knowledge about the Empress, they had spilled a hundred thousand and one tales about what had been occurring on their homeworld. Cultish devotions to the dark side and some manifestation they called the “Fanged god.” Enslavement, rape, ritual sacrefice, and a complete mind control program that had washed over the population of Falleen, snaring everyone they could grasp in the name of the Sith. The world had become a demon’s plaything, and there was naught to do, at least according to the interrogators’ notes, but wipe the slate clean and start again. 

 

The planet had been built in the image of its masters, its priceless native culture plowed over and replaced with vile sorcery and a death cult. Its scenery and foliage hacked down and replaced with thousands of miles of trenches, fortifications, and artillery emplacements. Its pristine skies turned into a shipyards that stripmined moons to crusted bare rock. 

 

Sandy could feel the pique of anger flare up behind her eyes as she read on, letting the stories and reports wash across her consciousness until she was too disgusted to keep reading. She took a deep breath, then another, and let the bitter anger drain away from her. She wiped at a tear with the back of her wrist, then took another steadying breath. It would take such strength to survive the coming days, and in the back of her mind somewhere she wished that Aidan was there to walk beside her into this mission. He had always been her cornerstone, for almost a decade she had kept his sly grin as the secret memory to cherish. A source to draw hope from in the darkest moments of a bitter night. But now that too was gone, and though hope was far more prevalent in the galaxy with the passing of the Sith Empire. The loss still felt as sharp as a knife. She took another breath and drew on the force to steady herself. 

 

It was time to go. 

 

She tucked the datapad away, and took the short walk to the shuttle, a small satchel of clothes, equipment, and medical supplies her only possession for the moment. The plastoid armour segments of her 98th Caridian Infantry regiment uniform also tucked into the bag, giving it most of its bulk. She tossed it into the small gargo bay on the shuttle and gave Leena and her apprentice an unconvincing grin. She gave Keenava the same smile. And gestured to her to put her own satchel in the bay. 

 

“It is going to be a long ride, taking civilian routes all the way in. Lightsabers hidden best you can. It’s not likely going to be an easy time, come what may. But I wouldn't have anyone else beside me.” 

 

The engines fired up with a roar that cut off anything else she may have wished to say. 

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