There was a lot to be done. Debriefings, meetings, tactical assessments, infiltration, intelligence gathering and general training. The Empire hit, and they hit hard. Thankfully, the Alliance knew how to take a punch, and counter just as hard. Because that was the ultimate thing with bullies, they never quite knew how to deal with people that could stand up to them.
So they limped away, their resolve shaken, the momentum they hoped to build stolen before it could really get going. Which was undoubtedly a good thing, as a veteran of the Imperial Civil War, Aaran knew exactly what the Iron Tide was capable of doing when it really committed itself.
Best to avoid any kind of drawn out slugging match.
But right now, he had injured and scared Padawans to deal with, after all they were the worst of it. Thrown right into the heat of battle against some of the Empire's finest. But despite everything, most of them had come out of it alive. Banged up and bruised, but still alive. And in the end, that was what mattered.
The life of a Jedi was dangerous. This was the younger generation's first taste of the true danger war had brought. He could only hope that such trials brought them closer together.
His own Padawan seemed to be handling herself alright. Despite her harrowing battle in the caves, she had come out still mostly intact. Nothing a rest in the Hall of Healing and generous applications of bacta could not fix. Physically at least. In regards to her mental and spiritual state, that was much trickier. Later he'd have a talk with her, see how she was doing. But right now it would probably be for the best that she bonds with her fellow Padawans.
Let her make some friends first, come out of her shell a bit. Bounce ideas and thoughts off others in her own age group instead of listening to the rambling of a badly scarred veteran who probably had some kind of undiagnosed PTSD.
Probably. Maybe. It wasn't like he was going to let a shrink sit him down and diagnose him.
After all, it was perfectly normal to get twitchy if someone hasn't tried to kill you in a week. People trying to kill you was usually a good sign that you were annoying someone awful.
In one hand, he held a Datapad, an invoice that needed signing off on. A fresh delivery of medical supplies that required the new chief healer's signature. The other balanced a yrey that held a teapot full of steaming liquid and several cups, intent on trying to perk up someone who was probably under tremendous amounts of pressure.
"Doc." He called out, rounding the corner, the familiar healer showing up on the edge of his senses. Ambling his way over to the healer. And a newcomer apparently? Her presence was not one he recognised, but it wasn't like he was going to peer too deeply without reason. He was fairly certain that with Amani present, whoever they were was hardly anything to worry about.
"Got something we need you to sign, new shipment just came in. Pencil pushers won't accept anything but your signature." He said, offering out the datapad to her. Before also proffering out the tray laden with a cup of hot tea.
"Also figured you could use a drink." He then shifted over to look at the newcomer, slightly readjusting the tray.
"Care for a drink as well Miss.......?" He said, figuring he should at least pretend to be a good host and offer refreshments.
Amani Serys
Zoraya Ives-Ayres
