Private In the Trenches

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

It hadn't been long since Garrion was tasked with prepping the defenses of Kessel. They'd gotten wind of a fleet from the Final Dawn making their way soon, with the presumed support of the Imperials from Mahporeem. The old General found himself in the planetary mines on the Western half, working to ensure every entrance was manned, every corridor and shaft was trapped, and every last man was stationed.

It wasn't exactly the most... thrilling task, yet, such preparations were necessary, and Garrion was the man to see them happen. It was an adjustment of course, given most of the able-bodied fighters present weren't accustomed to being subordinate to a man with a far more traditional view of military conduct & organization, though it wasn't as if they'd never taken orders in their life. Simply an adjustment.
Still within the command center, Garrion had yet to inspect the ranks individually. Instead he'd focused on the charts, the planning, and the logistics, until eventually he'd grown tired of doing so.

Glancing back at one of the officers, "Everything seems to be in order, I'll entrust you to manage things from here. I wish to inspect the ranks before we move forward with anything else."

Afterwards, Garrion stood, making his way down the nearest corridor, he began observing the assigned units. If they seemed... distracted, he'd remind them of the importance that they remain alert. Never snapping, only providing simple correction.
He didn't require the men to fawn over him, yet also understood it was important his authority not to be undermined by subordinate gossip. His authority ultimately depended on the respect of those he was commanding. So, in order to refrain from either outcome, he attempted to make this transition... less 'jarring'. Starting with treating the droid volunteers like actual people and not walking hunks of metal.

So, it would come to his surprise when he'd end up face-to-face with a rather peculiar looking droid among the rank-in-file (or so he thought at the very least). A being with a metallic, silver looking skin, and a shifting body. The old man simply assumed it to be the result of "nanodroids", or some other rational explanation, unable to help himself from commenting:
"It seems droid technology has advanced since my time, quite an impressive design." To the assistant who'd since been accompanying him, only to pause in surprise when said assistant replied:

"Sir... they're a Polydroxol, not a droid."

The old man was visibly perplexed. "A what?" He asked, glancing between the subordinate and the silver-skinned alien he'd just been introduced to.
Blinking, he continued: "Apologies... I'm simply unfamiliar with your species. Who might you be?" He inquired, tone shifting towards genuine curiosity.

Aperion

 

[Aperion]

KESSEL
Tags: Garrion Der Rædwulf
​

Aperion had heard rumours about the 12 thousand year old human. From what Eater and Alien could check, he was part of an old human supremacist group - the Pius Dea. The Jedi didn't know much about galactic history besides his own species', and even then, it gets a bit scarce. He was a Physician, not an historian; but even he knows about the Pius Dea Crusades, a key aspect of the human-centric paradigm the galaxy lives in. The Polydroxol quietly wondered why someone like this human would join the Resistance, instead of the Empire or the so-called High Republic.

Certainly not because of Aperion, the Bacta Brigade was tense about Garrion and his ideas. There was a specific meeting just to treat the Garrion Question, when a recent recording of his was played for all the Brigade to hear. Eater and Shield were of the opinion he must be an imperial spy, and should be investigated or openly questioned. Chef and Doc thought that the speech could be the beggining of the man's radicalisation: if Garrion really is 12 thousand years old, there is now very little remaining of the galaxy he once knew. The change of paradigm might as well change his vision about human supremacy, religion and such. Alien did as alien does, and abstained.

When Aperion heard the old crusader would be in the mines the oversee rebel preparations to the upcoming battle, he found a way to meet him. He sent Eater to quietly follow Garrion to wherever he got through the mine's ventilation chamber, and to communicate via telepathy any unusual findings. Meanwhile, the Polydroxol would be present in Garrion's personnel inspection. And so it happened.​

"It seems droid technology has advanced since my time, quite an impressive design."

The white-robed Polydroxol resisted the urgent need to facepalm. It was normal for people to find his appearance... strange. But something about Garrion himself saying those words made the Jedi tense. Perhaps Eater and Shield were getting into his skin. Still, he stayed silent, waiting to be asked or talked with directly.

"Apologies... I'm simply unfamiliar with your species. Who might you be?"

"I am known as Aperion, commander of the Bacta Brigade, sir", his voice was soothing, calm, steady, monotonic, congruent. Thinking about it, Aperion did look like a droid, didn't he?

It seemed the sarcastic, joking way fo the Bacta Brigade was getting into Aperion, because he added, like he couldn't control himself, his calm voice turning into a more joyful tone: "I am a Jedi", certain it would disturb the poor man

 

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

Garrion nodded. Rather than being disturbed, he was rather indifferent. Of course, it was a bit jarring to find out the person he'd mistaken for a droid was actually a Jedi, but it wasn't as if the old man hadn't been accustomed to interacting the Jedi, as diverse as they were.
Only of course, in his time the Jedi he fought beside were converts and members of a fanatical religious order, but the point still stood.

"It's always a benefit to have an... unpredictable element at our disposal. I recognize your Brigade, the name at least, I recall seeing it on my manifest. You're our medical detachment, I take it?" He asked rhetorically, briefly looking back over his datapad.

"You have a rather exotic selection of life forms here, it would seem." He stated in observation, though his tone suggested he didn't mean it as an insult, rather, genuine curiosity as he glanced back at the datapad briefly.
"Part of the fun in waking up after a 12 thousand year respite, is learning just how much is 'new' to you upon waking up." He murmured as he opened the file labeled 'Bacta Brigade' on the Kessel Garrison manifest.

There was an... awkward silence as he read over the file, showing the occasional facial expression as he read more about the team.

"Your composition fits together quite nicely, it would seem. A well selected group indeed." He stated, looking back up and resting the datapad gently between his arm and torso, looking over the small group before returning his gaze to Aperion.

"Our notes say you're a shapeshifter as well, with regenerative abilities at that. Do you not think you'd be best suited on the front lines rather than kept back behind the defenses?"
Retrieving the datapad once more, before Aperion even had the chance to answer, Garrion added:
"In fact: I'm reassigning your brigade. You'll be out in front with the main defense."

Awaiting the impending accusations that he was sentencing the rest of his brigade to death, he added: "I'll be joining you as well. I've never been one to hide behind my men like cannon fodder. I'll be seeing you lot, I hope this engagement presents you with the proper opportunity to distinguish yourselves."

It was practically unnoticeable to most, the claiming implications behind Garrion's words. 'My men'. A quaint phrase wasn't it?

And yet, he didn't address it. Instead, continuing with:
"Is there anything else I ought to know about you and your team? Perhaps a direct conversation would prove more enlightening than a handful of provided notes."

Aperion

 

[Aperion]

KESSEL
Tags: Garrion Der Rædwulf

​

Garrion seemed much more reasonable than expected, Aperion thought. Then, the question remained: why was he in the Resistance of all places? He had to be called by Jonyna, as Aperion himself was, wouldn't he? Then, perhaps the Jedi Cathar was a bit more pragmatic than the Polydroxon once suspected. Aperion kept his cool, his face reflecting, molding and shaping the General's own.
​

It's always a benefit to have an... unpredictable element at our disposal. I recognize your Brigade, the name at least, I recall seeing it on my manifest. You're our medical detachment, I take it?

"We are", Aperion responded. He didn't understand much about rhetorical questions. It was simple, he thought: if people asked, they were expecting an answer.

While Garrion read the file, Aperion felt the duty to brief him about the Bacta Brigade as well: "You already know myself, Aperion. Before I was a Jedi, I was a..." , he struggled to find the word, "A shaman. I am a good warrior, but a better healer".

"Muunurul, known as 'Chef', handles our Brigade's morale. She was a Shaman, just as me. Other than that, she is experient with herbs, and cooking in general".

"Pikhno, known as 'Shield', is our rescuer and protector. His body can sustain impressive quantities of injury while he is in his 'ball' shape. He is... very unexperienced, but is courageous nonetheless".

"Chuckles is our infiltrator. Her species, small rodent-like being, eat energy directly. This means she can disable droids and technology if she has an empty stomach. She normally eats hunger-inducing pills before every battle. She is also telepathic.", Aperion would mention her pessimism and compulsion, if she weren't monitoring the conversation through the ventilation. But then, again, she knew that, too: she could read his mind, couldn't she?

Yep. And don't you dare spit anything about me to this bugslut

"Then, Doc and Dace. Doc's species eats disease, viruses, bacteria... breathes carbon monoxide and exhales oxygen. 'The ultimate doctor', he states. Dace is our pilot. He and Doc are... uh... in a symbiotic relationship", Aperion said. The General may have a stroke if he ever discover they are married -or something like that.

"Your composition fits together quite nicely, it would seem. A well selected group indeed."

"The Force unites all of us. There are no ships made entirely of one type of gear", Aperion remained with a passive, monotone voice. Well, for the good of the Bacta Brigade, Aperion would have to ask eventually the question he was delaying so much. He agreed with Doc: in front of him wasn't a bad man. The mere fact he was there showed he believed in the Resistance. He believed it was right to rebel.

"Our notes say you're a shapeshifter as well, with regenerative abilities at that. Do you not think you'd be best suited on the front lines rather than kept back behind the defenses?"

"I am a warrior first of all, General. But I am a better hea-"

"In fact: I'm reassigning your brigade. You'll be out in front with the main defense."

A loud squeak could be heard through the ventilation. Eater's psychic voice echoed into Aperion's head, a desperate, angry tone.

We're borked! Hear that, Ape? We're completely borked! Your 'General''s trying to get rid of us! Doc can't even stand up alone, and Pius Dea over here wants him in the front lines to get shot!, all of a sudden, Eater jumps out of the ventilation chambers, directly on Aperion's right shoulder. She stays there, rigid, her claws dug in the Jedi's robes, a livid look as she gazes upon Garrion's eyes. Aperion felt no pain. He was content in slowly straightening the Hoojib's hair, his fingers passing through her head, cheeks, ears and neck.

"I understand, sir", he remained composed. He knew as well as anyone there are certain times for discussion and democracy, and others for centralism, for one to accept any and all orders given, and to act upon it. This was no time for democracy.

At least the General is man enough to put his money where is mouth is, and lead by example.

And then, footsteps. The sudden noise of leafs chocking against the ground, a heavy ball rolling on the mines. Aperion only now realised Eater wasn't only talking to him, but to the whole Brigade too. There they were: Dace and Shield, Doc and Chef, the former pair much more tense than the latter.

"I think, General, my crew wants to talk to you first. Rebel to rebel.", Aperion relented. His voice wasn't monotone anymore, but frustrated. He knew they would bombard Garrion with questions, accusations or worse. And yet, there is nothing he can do: he wasn't given any evidence, anything to make him resist their need. In fact, he wasn't given much at all.

"Tell me, General: were you part of the Pius Dea Crusades?"

"It happened more than millenia ago. But to you..."

"Might az well've been lazt thurzday for you, eh, 'General'? How much of uz have you killed?", Shield said, a protective tone in his young voice as he takes Aperion's side. "Or what? You're too much of a coward to do it yourself? Turned a blind eye while the others fucking killed uz all? Kidz, women, all of them?"

Why're you here, grandpa? What're you rebelling against? The galaxy's full of people like you already. The Sith're taking the Galaxy over, the High Republic doesn't care. Who are you in all of that? A rebel without a cause.

What're you rebelling against?, Eater repeats.

 

[Garrion Der Rædwulf]

Garrion found himself looking between the group as they each addressed him, before finally landing on Eater, still sat upon Aperion's shoulder.
He didn't respond immediately, thinking over the question a moment before responding in a measured tone:

"Evil." He stated, quietly. Usually such a declaration was accompanied by a deep claim of moral superiority, matched with a daring boldness intended to make the listener feel bad about themselves for even daring to ask. And yet, he seemed completely earnest, tired eyes and gravelly voice saying everything he needed to.

"Yes, I was a crusader, and yes, I am responsible for acts which I will never be able to wash my hands of, and yet I choose to be better. I fight not for institutions, only my Goddess. And she has brought me here for the purpose of cutting down all those who would impose tyranny, those who would prey on the innocent, and those who exist to satisfy their own hedonism at the expense of the people."

His tone suggested he... didn't blame them for asking. After all, how would anyone else have reacted to finding out a member of a human-supremacist cult was now a vital part of your band of freedom-fighters, alien or not?

"For what it's worth, never under my watch did I allow for the needless slaughter of non-combatants. Nor did I allow for any looting, debauchery, or torture. Any man who dared attempt such was met either reprimanded or faced swift execution." Notably, Garrion hadn't led with this. He'd accepted his faults, and let the good he'd done come second. Two things could be true at once.
"...And though I hadn't fought with them directly, I was among the few Generals of the Pius Dea to authorize the creation of units for alien converts, and barred any attempt at unit segregation."

Had the brigade been able to read minds (which of course, one of them could), they would find Garrion's words rang true. To the letter.

"Incase it were not clear, I do not hold to the opinions of many of my time. I believe a person's worth is to be determined by character, and my respect for them is to be determined by their competence and consistency. Had you been humans, I would treat you the same. If you desire... proof, of my claims. Then hold me to my own standard. Correct me if I stumble, as we all do."

After allowing the brigade to process his words, Garrion continued, addressing their reassignment, as he was sure there was still skepticism concerning his intention behind it, despite him also being present alongside them and equally vulnerable to the dangers of being outside the mine.
"I do not intend to sentence you to the grave. One of you is a Jedi, and the others are well equipped to treat wounded. In the likely event our position is bombarded, it will be far easier for you to reach our wounded rather than waiting for them to be taken into the mines for treatment. And second, Aperion's abilities will undoubtedly be useful in holding off any enemy incursion. The reality of our situation is: We must hold. Hold for as long as we can. It would be foolish to not have him available until the enemy had already breached our defenses."

With that, Garrion looked them over, seeming gauging whether or not they'd... received him. He understood this would be an adjustment for them, same as him. Yet, he still needed the chance to prove that he really was who he claimed to be... what he was trying to represent.

Aperion

 

[Aperion]

KESSEL
Tags: Garrion Der Rædwulf ​

The Goddess, Aperion thought. How much evil can be done by the will to serve. The General was one of those who served a demon in god's clothing. And still, there he was, thousands of years later, in a galaxy that was no longer his, fighting. Aperion could feel sincerity in his words, but there needed to be something more. He'd need to show his position through his actions, instead of words. The Polydroxon didn't -honestly, he couldn't yet- respect the General, but he would follow his orders. Before anyone could say anything, Aperion expressed himself as the Brigade's commander:

"Comrades, we are the Bacta Brigade. We are the Resistance's golden goose. Our mission is to preserve the Rebellion's sacred flame..."

... And we can't do it by hiding from the frontline. We have to show our rebel comrades what we're made of. We've been oppressed, beaten down for too long. Some of us have been exiled from our own people because we fought for what was right. Are we really going to give it all up because of fear?, Doc interrupted Aperion. His voice echoed through everyone's mind, as comforting as ever. He felt the urge to back Aperion's position, to show him he wasn't alone. Dace looked to Doc, the Kalduu over his shoulder, with shock. Not exactly shock, he knew Doc would say those words... But again, wasn't he a rebel too?

"We will win. Our triumph is inevitable. But even if we did not, Comrades, I am sure we would be doing the same things we are today. We would be rebelling. Because it is right. If we cower, decent people, the bravest of the bravest, will die. If we stand and fight, some of them might live. Is it not enough for us to give everything we have?"

"I will continue doing this until it kills me. Dying for a good cause is not a bad thing. This is where I stand. This is where I fall. Everyone here will die, eventually. What is better than dying for a worthy cause?"

"Living for a worthy cause, Ape. And that's what we'll do. We'll live for the Resistance. We'll live for the Rebellion. And if we have to give our own sap for the Resistance to live, we'll give it gladly.", Chef said. Her mystic, imponent voice gave Dace and Eater goosebumps. She too felt the need to back Aperion up.

The General is fighting this war at our side, isn't him? Then he's not Pius Dea. He's a Rebel. He's a Comrade. And in battle, he'll command and we'll follow. And if we have to give our own lives to follow his orders, so be it. He's a warrior, but so are we.

"Shield, Eater, Dace. Are you with us?", and then, for some seconds, silence. Aperion would give the world to know what the three of them were thinking...

-

Eater was confronted with Garrion's thoughts. Images of genocide and death, of course, but soaking with regret. She didn't know how to feel about it. He's with the Resistance, of course, but the things he had done... The things his colleagues had done... Most of them didn't even pay the price. But today there was no Pius Dea anymore. For thousands of years, the Pius Dea remained dead and buried, then someone had to unbury him. The last Crusader. Eater couldn't hid her hate for him. Not because of him personally, but because of what he represents. Nothing ever dies, does it? The Sith Order, the Empire, they've been shifting and surviving for thousands and thousands of years. Korvan, Sularen, Mahporeem, will it ever stop? Like cockroaches, everytime they're beaten, some few of them survive and continue.

But so do we, don't we?

... Doc, get outta my farkling head.

You're afraid, I get it. But at the end of the day, we're all afraid. Afraid it isn't worth it. Afraid that, despite all the things we say and do, the Empire will beat us all. But we have faith. We have hope. We have something that keeps making us defy this giant called Imperialism, called oppression. And we keep surviving, don't we? Someday, one of those forces will have to relent. And it won't be us.

The galaxy's rotten, Doc. Look at the Gener-

Chuckles, hear me out. The people trust us to do the right thing. Ape trusts us to do the right thing. He has so much faith in you. In some way, shape or form, I think you're his favorite here. It's time for you to have faith in him too. In us.

He was right, wasn't he?

-

"We're rebels. We rebel. As long as we're together, mate, I don't care one bit", Dace said. He was sincere. He was a Rebel just like them, of course, but the Bacta Brigade was more like friends than comrades to him. He didn't yet know what comradery was. But still, it was enough for him to side with the rest.

Who else'll keep their eyes on Garrion there, if not for us, huh?, Eater relented. Doc was right, Ape deserved the little faith he asked of them. The General would have to prove himself in the future, and the Bacta Brigade would be there to force him to.

Everybody turned to Pikhno, 'Shield'. His eyes were scanning the General with such disgust. He reminded him of his family. Of his species. Of the isolationism that forced him away. But then, again, his species wasn't all racist biggots, were they? He was still a Colicoid. He was there, too, rebelling.

"I'm gonna regret thiz... Better to fail together than to get it right alone. I'm in", there was something like disappointment deep in his voice. He expected Eater to disagree with Aperion too, but something - something kept her from doing it. It was for the best, he thought to himself, maybe compensating his deeper need to question and attack the General.

"It's settled, General. You will have plenty of time to prove yourself to us, and vice-versa."​