Scavenger Hunt (Fenn Soran)

[DreadPirateMike]

lion

"...repeat, I'm declaring Alert Condition One: overwhelming enemy deployment. Requesting full strategic response. Authentication: Tarentatek."

"Acknowledged, General Shatani." came the response from the diminutive holographic naval officer that stood suspended over his comm unit. "I'll pass the word to Admiral Bakshi at once. And good luck, sir."

With a quick nod, Jaidan terminated the call, the better to hear the distant but closing cacophany of high power blaster fire and artillery strikes. Despite the rising smoke, he still had a lovely view from this control tower, the mist shrouded forests stretching past the limits of sight in every direction once the buildings thinned out to nothing. It wouldn't last long, though. For his sake, familiar as the regret was, he hoped he never got quite used to it. Such a damned waste.

Sylvan Glen was, as its name suggested, not an expansive place. Admittedly, that was a somewhat trite observation coming from anyone who'd been to Coruscant; there WERE no big places for people to dwell when Galactic City was your frame of reference. Even so, Jaidan could jog from one side of it to another in just an hour or so, and even when loaded to capacity with the vacationers that the town existed largely to service, the final count had never broken 100,000. Still, Iri was not Couscant, and here, that tally made this one of the planet's largest population centers. And that, taken together with its spaceport, had made it the priority target for what had proven itself a bona fide Sith invasion force.

A largely undeveloped world like this had seemed something of an unlikely target, in all likelihood coveted only as a supply depot to service operations against bigger targets down the line. But since the Sith breakout from the Outer Rim at Taris, this had been one of the Republic's more frustrating obstacles. Too many smaller hyperspace routes split off from the Hydian Way, leading to too many possible worlds, and the sheer size of Republic space made it impossible to secure everything. Any attempt at trying would only spread the fleet too thin to ever manage the massive counter-offensive it would take to drive the Sith back into the Outer Rim.

Still, the Republic had a lot of manpower, a lot of ships, and reserves of both were growing as fast as they could be trained and built. So, the next best thing it was. Small military garrisons had been seeded across its member worlds, tasked with training up local militias to supplement their numbers, and calling in support from naval patrol groups in the area to counter enemy action. For the most part, this had proven a fairly successful tactic, freeing the fleet at large from the burden of having to chase down every reported Sith raid or diversionary attack. Hoping as always that was all he was dealing with when he got the distress call, Jaidan had soon arrived on the scene with his flotilla and taken command of the counter-attack. Things had gone well at first; with the help of a handful of Jedi reinforcements, the Sith vanguard was chased from the city with a bloody nose, a landing zone was secured, the evacuation of citizens from the combat zone was well underway, and scouts were deployed to monitor enemy troop movements. By the sixth hour, however, as more Sith soldiers just kept disembarking from their ships and more of their ships were reported inbound, it was clear they were just fighting a delaying action.

Fortunately, that was still in keeping with the current strategy. Against this emegency, several much larger and more powerful fleets waited in staging areas at key points along the major hyperspace lanes, carefully chosen to ensure at least relatively quick deployment anywhere in Republic space. Now that one of these fleets had been summoned, the mission was simply to slow the invasion force down as much as possible, and gather reconnaisance until the navy showed up with overwhelming force to utterly smash the intruders. In a military sense, the outcome could still be quite good. That would, of course, be cold comfort at best to any civilians still in harm's way, so the priority here and now was to ensure that didn't happen.

"What's the problem here?" he asked when he returned to the loading area to find the foot traffic stalled by an altercation between a tight jawed military officer and a visibly distraught Duros couple.

"General, they're refusing to board the evac ship." Captain Ystin hastened to explain. "I've explained to them three times now how urgent-"

"And we didn't need to hear even once what a hurry we're in!" the Duros woman broke in. "We've already had the bolts raining down around us, which is more than this starched shirt can say! We'd happily stop holding up the line, if someone would just let us out of here!"

"You...want to go back out there? Knowing what's coming?"

"It's our daughter, Master Jedi!" That was the father joining the conversation, far from calm but evidently the slightly more restrained of the two. "We got separated during the evacuation. We're aware of the danger, but you can't ask us to run and leave her to the Sith!"

"And we're not." Captain Ystin countered, still managing, with some effort, to keep his voice even. "It's true we're in retreat, but we've got men sweeping as we go for stragglers. That's the best chance for ALL of you."

"But your soldiers have already been pushed out of our neighborhood by now!" The mother again, and he noted that Ystin could not outright deny that charge. "Are your men going to make pushing back in there a priority, at the risk of your objectives? We will!"

"Unarmed?" Jaidan asked mildly, after a quick glance at their holster-less belts.

"Fine." After a matching look to his own belt, the woman locked gaze fiercely with him and nodded to his holster. "What does a Jedi Knight need with a blaster, anyway? Give me yours."

Under the circumstances, Jaidan suppressed his smile, but he couldn't help but admire that kind of nerve. That he imagined most any parent might find it with their child at risk made no difference.

"I see her." As usual, a Jedi's revelation of their personal window into another being's mind brought them both up short, one reason among several that he didn't make use of that power much. This time, however, he had to. "I see your daughter, as you see her. She's perfect. And at all cost, she must survive. I understand it perfectly. So, I'll make you a deal."

Satisfied that he'd put an end to the frantic shouting for the moment, he drew his blaster, and offered it.

"You're right. If your neighborhood is taken, then it's inaccessible to our soldiers. So take it, if you want to gamble it'll do you any good. But make no mistake; you gamble with HER life. Or, you can get on that ship, and let me do it."

It was Ystin who found his words first, though he plainly uttered them with pained reluctance.

"General! With all due respect, a Jedi Knight-"

It didn't take a mind reader to see where that was going before Jaidan silenced him with an upraised hand, and he appreciated that the Army officer had to say it. A Jedi Knight was an important resource on the battlefield, and it made no tactical sense to spend it on one lost child when their duty was to the entire Republic. In truth, there were times when Jaidan envied the ordinary soldier that sort of clarity what it came to their duty, but this was not one of them. Yes, he had his duty to the Republic, but the Republic in turn had a duty to every one of its citizens. He wouldn't hide behind the math from that and call himself a Jedi.

"A Jedi Knight has no special qualification to manage things here, Captain. So, this is my offer. You two turn around and make for your assigned ship, right now. In return, I go out there, and I will not leave this place without your daughter. A Jedi's life for hers. Put aside your panic for her, and tell me. Can you offer her a better chance than that?"

All of them wanted to say any number of things, at any number of volumes. Thanks, threats in the event of failure, curses, and everything in between. Instead, the husband silently grasped his wife's hand, and they shared a nod before turning toward their ship.

[lion]

Under different circumstances, Sylvan Glen might very well have been a nice place to visit. The forestry surrounding Iri's surface promising a sense of calming quiet that the humble communities backed up in full; even at their busiest, the township of Sylvan Glen apparently had a peaceful air about it that bordered on sleepy. A place one could truly hear themselves think, so far removed from the hustle and bustle that was Galactic living that it seemed alien to even consider.

Of course, were it not for the earth-shaking thumps of artillery pounding the idyllic terrain to rubble. Now that was more like the galaxy beyond the softly-toned skies above, Fenn could hear himself muse bitterly, as the Bothan's eyes caught another crimson shard pierce the cloud layer and descend violently into the surface. The sheer jarring nature of the sudden, and violent, incursion of Iri was cariacature-esque to the Bothan; to the point of having to bite his lip in order to fend off a smile from the sheer absurdity of it all. 

How like the Sith to take on a world so tranquil, barely populated, and bomb it into submission? The entire scene could have passed for a perfect representation of the Galactic political strife at large; a beautiful and picture-esque landscape swiftly marked and scarred with craters and small brushfires as laser fire carved the terrain apart. It was difficult to imagine the psyche it required to be able to dole out such devastation and still think the action justified; to still think you were the 'good' guy in it all.

And that was before the civilian casualties were taken into account.

Oh yes, the sheer damage of the onslaught from above was hard to ignore, not just to the surroundings but the people whose homes were made here. Military action always involved collateral damage, even the Jedi were aware, but there was a difference between an actionable military target and a civilian one.

Seeing the aftermath of the first volleys up close had instilled a sense of bitterness in Fenn that had had driven the Bothan apprentice through the fights to secure the landing site, that had shielded him from the regret of bearing lethal force, but now? Seeing the throngs of wounded and terrified stretched out before him? Worse was the knowledge that for every shaken and shocked resident stood before him, there were likely just as many who couldn't make it; trapped under the rubble of their homes, captured by enemy vanguard forces or, worse, outright dead.

Jedi were meant to be stoic, but even stoicism had its limits; it was difficult to try to swallow down a sense of anger and desire for revenge. Fur twisted and ruffled in an expression of what his face refused to yield, as the twenty-two year old's eyes trailed down the line before him. Parents, children, elderly, families; there was nothing here that was untouched in some way.

Thank the Force not a single one was Bothan; nobody would think twice the dishevelled fur being anything less than simply the side-effects of hard work. Not like any of the figures before him were any cleaner, either, but at least for them their emotional states were easily readable...

"Hello? Jedi? I asked if that's all."

The tone of voice was enough to bring the young Jedi from his inward thoughts, shaking his head mildly as if trying to rattle his brain clear. A Neimoidian male stood before him, front of the line, with a look on his olive-skinned face that sat somewhere between frustration and polite understanding; clearly he didn't want to be there any longer, but perhaps Fenn's age was enough to keep him from outburst.

Not that the guy needed to stay, of course; just a couple stitches here and there to give, along with some analgesics. Not like the small Corellian girl clutching to her father a few places back with the head wound and concussion that he wished he could have perhaps rushed further through the queue, maybe treated a lot sooner than he had. The parent looked no better; glassy eyes suggested shell-shock but the sheer sense of numb terror echoing from the Force said grief. Initial glance might have guessed perhaps his spouse but, no, something in the way he held his daughter suggested the loss of someone younger.

The knowledge made Fenn's stomach twist harder than it ever had; it wasn't the first time he'd dealt with this sort of loss, but it never got easy to think about.

Oh, sorry, I just...Nevermind. Yes, that's all. Keep your place in the line and you'll be sorted soon." The Bothan said, managing to crush down the nausea that threatened to launch his breakfast from his mouth rather than the words. Complaints rose from the Neimoidian, probably about his place being more important, but the young medic couldn't help but blot them out as he moved down the line, inwardly steeling himself.

Be strong, be a Jedi.

A smooth, leathery hand seemed to disagree with the Bothan's course of action, as with a surprisingly firm grip, it clenched at the fabric of the boy's left sleeve and tugged, dragging the body within it backward. Booted feet stamped to regain balance, but Fenn found himself nevertheless quickly turning to face his former patient once more; the green features of the red-eyed Neimoidian contorted in anger.

"What is taking so long? If you cleared us, why can't we board?" The alien moaned, voice firm but nevertheless petulant; his sentiment nevertheless received with a chorus of affirmation from several likewise disgruntled figures. Hand still gripping the sleeve of his robe, the taller alien had leverage; Fenn regained what balance he could, but the Neimoidian wasn't about to let him go.

Jedi reflex instantly divided the Bothan's responses; portioning off what levels of reply were acceptable. The Jedi had to be calm in all things, kind and compassionate; even in the face of hostility. The Neimoidian was stressed, hurt, fearful and panicked; the mild analgesics to deal with the pain wouldn't kick in for some time yet, but the flight and fight response fuelled by adrenaline sure wouldn't back down.

Calm. No need to involve the troops unless he gets violent; no need to subdue unless he makes a move for the lightsaber...

"Sir, I'm going to ask you nicely; please let go of me. We're trying to ge-" Fenn started, only to find himself cut off mid-sentence; interrupted by the Neimoidian's free hand grasping at the lapel of his robe front. Another hard pull brought the Bothan off balance and, with a surprising amount of strength, brought him in close to the leathery, noseless face.

"Let us board, now!" Squealed the Neimoidian, red eyes bearing the full signs of panic response, before shoving outward sharply. Off-balance as he was, practically on his toes thanks to the firm lapel-and-sleeve grip, Fenn staggered and stumbled backwards, landing firmly on his backside on the ground a step and a half away.

Another choruses to the affirmative for the Neimoidian rang from several of the likewise stressed civilians; both those the Bothan had yet to get to, and those he had treated. Not a single figure stepped forward to offer a hand to help, or to Fenn's surprise, so much a discouraging word to the outburst; those disagreeing with the action simply looking away.

Jedi discipline, just for a single second, gave way to shock as the young medic stared up at the red-eyed Neimoidian; the slight pulse of pain from his tail-bone far less than the sense of shock at being shoved. Two soldiers on watch broke from their position to render assistance, to their credit, but before they could come any closer to the line, Fenn waved them off; it wasn't worth the effort. Instead, picking himself up and dusting himself off, the boy simply exhaled; shoulders sagging slightly into his robes as the line shuffled forward.

It was beyond tempting to give the impatient bastard a bit of come-uppance, but it wasn't the Jedi way, certainly not to risk a potential riot if someone were to be pulled aside like that. Biting down on his own jaw, fists clenched only to slowly release, Fenn instead allowed himself to try to relax; to momentarily bring the Force around himself and know he at least had it by his side.

The line seemed to be for the most part more-so interested in the scant bit of progress rather than him, and spying little more than a few cuts and scrapes for the remaining few in his section, the Bothan likewise couldn't see much of interest in them. Discomfort, sure, but nothing life-threatening or immobililising; nothing that demanded attention.

After all, why treat the patient willing to strike out at the physician?

Making his way along the queue to the front, the younger Jedi caught sight of what very well might have been the hold-up, and almost instantly felt his jaw bunch again. Tensions were high, very high given the circumstances; even Jedi patience had its limits. It was hard, though, to fault Master Shatani, however; he didn't seem for a second fazed by the pair of Duros effectively halting proceedings.

"Line's been treated, sir, a-." Fenn started, starting low enough to outright not be heard, only to stop completely dead as the display between worried parents and calm Jedi truly made its impact. So tempted was the Bothan to complain about his treatment, to vent his frustration at being roughly handled, that he forgot his place here. Did Master Shatani complain at the Duros before him, holding up the evacuation procedure? No, he volunteered to go out into a combat zone to retrieve the kid. Like a proper Jedi; the code and the mission before personal feelings. It was enough to bring down the young Bothan's anger just on sight alone; unfettering much of the tangled mess of fur and dust upon him.

It stopped the apprentice dead in his tracks both verbally, and merely a few feet to the right of the scene, literally; giving Fenn less an appearance a confident Jedi or agitated physician so much as a child waiting for a turn to speak.