The Sick and the Weary

[Charity Luckless]

Voss - Voss-Ka Refugee Camp​

The towering Jedi woman tread for the yellowing white fabric of the weathered tents on the outskirts of Voss-Ka, Voss' capital city, her flowing robes briskly yet surprisingly serenely swaying about her long legs with each measured step. Charity Luckless had always carried an orthodox air in spite of her eccentric hair coloring, though it was uncanny just how smoothly each perfect stride conveyed her figure with nary a lurch. In tow, she had her fresh Padawan, [member="Shika Skirata"], who would be shadowing her rounds at the refugee camp's medical compound--and perhaps experience her first trials as a young Jedi.

Descending a sloping trail marked sparsely by orchids, Charity escorted her student past the duracrete foundation of an incomplete structure adjacent to the camp--the future hospital building. From behind the construction peered another slab of duracrete and more tents atop it--however, these were in much better shape than the main camp's, and the fiberplast coverings shimmered in the slight breeze with a sterile white glint. These tents housed the most afflicted of those who sought refuge from their battlescarred worlds afar.

As she stepped from the gravel pathway to the duracrete pad, the Jedi Knight surveyed the layout and then dropped to her knees. She closed her eyes, tapped the forefingers of her right hand to her temple, and then drew them down and across to lay her hand upon her left breast in reverence. Charity remained in this position for several silent moments before rising once more. Her ritual complete, she turned and laid her eyes softly upon her Padawan. "Do you need to stop and meditate before we visit? What we are about to see may not be easy on your soul."

 

[Shika Skirata]

Shika Skirata was not new to carnage, clearing the battlefield of the wounded and dispensing mercy to those beyond use was a regular duty when she was young. Though her newfound serenity had brought forth another level to her Force Sense, she could see the emotions flowing from each tent. Mostly a thick smoke of pain and fear but oddly she saw faint streaks of peace. She peered into one of the tents. An old man lay in a cot, his son by his side, they didn't speak but the clear glow of peace and acceptance was present. In an instant that same light was gone, replaced by a small grief. This was not a battlefield, but Shika still unhooked her Staff, the heavy metal focusing her. She was here to learn from her Master in the healing ways, she would help these people, even if she had no previous knowledge of the skill. "No Master we may proceed."

 

[Charity Luckless]

Charity simply nodded, aware of her Padawan's observations but speaking nothing of it. She would be there to comfort if Shika needed it, but it was best to let her experience and resolve her emotions for herself unless it became overwhelming.

The tall Jedi took a few steps forward, altering her direction slightly as her spirit immersed into the emotional cloud of the camp, drawing her form towards the locations of more centralized--and crushing--pain. Her feet were slow and her motion less fluid now, eyelids fluttering shut as her chest tensed and occasionally shuddered. Charity had dealt with this empathic sense for most of her life, and yet it never truly became easier to handle. Only her self-control had improved.

She abruptly stalled, hunched over, and clasped her somewhat cold hands around Shika's right hand. "Padawan, feel through me." Charity breathed deeply, temporarily repressing her stuttering diaphragm. "Tell me which tent contains the most agony."

[member="Shika Skirata"]

 

[Shika Skirata]

The scene turned in front of Shika's open eyes as Master took her hand. The Fog of pain and fear was still present, but she could feel it's weight, almost forcing to her knees. Shika was strong though, she let her fire burn a little hotter careful to not worry her guardian. Throughout the thick smoke she noticed threads, varying in color and thickness. Each individual connection to the Force. Among those threads were the heavy chains of pain and anguish, all of which connected to her Master.

Shika Skirata understood her teacher a little bit more now. Master Luckless didn't see the Force as her student did, she felt it. She shared the weight of every soul, not just the intense distress of the patients but the grief of their loved ones and the subtle worries of the medics. Shika recognized the great strength her Master must possess to constantly feel the Galaxy this way. It began to take it's toll on the young Padawan.

Shika was not as prepared for this as she assumed. There was no enemy to fight, no strategy to execute. She tried to follow the thickest chain, but hesitated. Shika was more frightened than she had ever been in battle but refused to back away. Instead she uttered two words that she had never put together in her life. "I can't"

[member="Charity Luckless"]

 

[Charity Luckless]

Charity reassuringly squeezed the hand of her pupil, softly peering into her eyes with troubled weariness but certain conviction. She was proud of her Padawan; proud that she could bond with her soul and concentrate as she had just done--though she understood her limits. "No, you can't," she affirmed. It would take time, clarity, and a tested resolve for the young woman to endure and act upon such dreadful sensations in the future. With time, however, it would come to her. "Not yet. But you will be able to someday. You are a strong young woman, Shika. Remember that strength is not always measured in physical power, nor how powerful you are in your supernatural gifts."

The Knight released her lock on the Jedi learner's hand and crouched down to eye level with her student, laying a comforting grip upon the girl's shoulders tenderly. "Perhaps today is not entirely about learning to heal others, but about finding healing for yourself, dear Shika.

"Will you follow me if I lead you to where we are most needed?" There was a trace of apprehension in Charity's eyes, knowing how difficult it would be to confront such pain directly. But Shika was strong, and Charity must be strong for her as well.

[member="Shika Skirata"]

 

[Shika Skirata]

Shika's Force Sense returned to a comfortable state. She was the confident pupil once more. "Of course Master. Your lessons are never wasted." Her Mentor let a quiet smile escape her face before turning to lead the way.

The make-shift infirmary was chaos, medics ran back and forth with armfuls of supplies, droids pushed repulsor-stretchers carrying the screaming wounded or the recently deceased and the familiar cries of dying men. Still Master held a slow pace, each step elegant and deliberate. Shika stayed close to her Master, partly to not lose her in the crowd but also to be the first response to any danger that may present itself.

"Get back hutuun! Ke nu’jurkadir sha Mando’ade! I'll kill you!" Shika caught her native tongue a moment before her Master came to a halt. The verbal abuse continued to the their right.

"Sir it's just a sedative, we can't operate on you like this."
"I'll tear your arm off boy, I killed a man with my teeth when I was younger than you."

Shika followed her Master into the sterile medical tent. A young orderly no older than herself stood terrified over a hulking tan man strapped to a blood soaked cot. The man was missing the bottom portion of both legs but was still screaming about tearing out the throat of anyone who came near him. Master calmly walked over to stool next the bed and sat down, unconcerned with blood flying from the thrashing body.

Unsure of what to do, Shika moved over to the visibly shaking orderly. "Th-This is only my first day," he stuttered. Shika Skirata took the needle from the boy's hand and jabbed it hard into the man's forearm, close to the strap restraining him. "Udesii vode," Shika whispered secretly applauding the man's sheer will to live. Whether it was her words or the sedative, Shika didn't know, but the man stopped thrashing and silenced his snarl. Then he gingerly turned to face Master before succumbing to unconscious. The orderly was the first to stir, "I'll fetch the surgeon," he said as he made his exit.

[member="Charity Luckless"]

 

[Charity Luckless]

As they drew closer, the external emotion that swept over the Knight's spirit began to resemble not just pain and terror, but also a distinct brand of rage. The scene that lay before the two Jedi was mortifying in its obvious evidence of violence and anguish. Furthermore, the fear and anger in the writhing and profaning man brought a flood of darkness over the connection Charity held with the Force, and her trembling would occasionally elevate to convulsive lurches in her chest. But she had to remain calm and strong in the face of this morbid display, and her usual neutral countenance was maintained well enough to conceal any dread on her own part.

Charity sat at the bedside and gazed upon the horribly disfigured form of a defiant man in the face of excruciating pain. His willpower was awestriking even to the shuddering soul of the violet-haired woman. He apparently spoke in the tongue of the Mandalorian people, for her student surprisingly could interpret the meaning to his foreign words, and even more surprising, Shika took charge without hesitation or apparent hesitation. The girl had injected sedative in no time. The young instructor glanced curiously at her Padawan, somewhat bewildered at the action. Yet it had worked, in a way. The patient was out cold in seconds, and Charity's mind found itself to be slightly clearer because of it.

The tall Jedi looked to her side at her Padawan. Normally she would have been disturbed by what she saw as a rather brutal administration of medicine. But she assumed that perhaps it was embedded in Mandalorian culture to avoid 'weakness'. The seemingly harsh treatment may just have been a way of their culture. Thus, she did not scold. "Thank you for taking action, Shika."

The healer then proceeded to lay her left hand upon the forehead of the unconscious man, taking Shika's arm into her right hand. "It is beneficial to reduce stress in the patient as best we can, so that the body may focus its healing on where it immediately needs it." She breathed in and closed her eyes, then asked, "What was it that you said to him?"

[member="Shika Skirata"]

 

[Shika Skirata]

Shika welcomed the now familiar expansion of her senses that came with her Master's touch. An intense weight set on her shoulders, and Shika felt her young Master ease. They would share the load together.

"Please forgive my brashness Master, I only wished to end the escalating of the situation quickly. It means easy, brother. I wanted him to know he was safe with us. Most soldiers just miss home."

Her statement brought memories of her Father's Fotress on Mandalore. Father standing in the War Room for hours on end fighting his own Internal Battle. Shika wished he would find peace but doubted he would seek anything more than the next lucrative conflict. But it wasn't home, not anymore. Home was a Violet colored campfire in a dark, painful Galaxy. Shika indicated the lightly colored puss collecting on the man's leg

"It looks like infection has started in his left leg. Is that where we should begin?" She said in an attempt to focus herself on her lastest lesson.

[member="Charity Luckless"]

 

[Charity Luckless]

Eyes remaining closed, Charity shook her head calmly and squeezed her apprentice's arm reassuringly. "Don't worry, Shika. I am not angry. It is possible that you resolved the situation in the only way possible. This man is of your people, yes?" Maybe it was too much to presume that made them inherent allies, but the Padawan had bade his compliance with bold authority. That might not do with less stalwart souls, but Mandalorians were quite unique, so far as Charity was aware.

The soft-spoken Knight switched her left hand from head to chest, gauging the trauma and feeling throughout his biological structure for any wounds apart from the obvious. "The Force may guide us and aid us in healing people beyond what others may perceive; some unnatural extents even," Charity whispered, walking her fingers gently down the torso of the afflicted Mandalorian. "But we cannot perform the miraculous. I cannot create a new leg for this man, nor can you rejuvenate his dead blood cells. Our gifts are not to be confused with divine power."

The Knight at last opened her eyes and released her grasp on the Padawan's arm. She arose from her seat and came behind Shika to hold onto her shoulders lightly. "Go ahead, Padawan. Reach out and feel for the dead and the living within his body. It is only the living elements that bring this man both his strength and his suffering."

[member="Shika Skirata"]

 

[Shika Skirata]

Shika closed her eyes and opened her senses. She no longer stood over a Mandalorian Warrior, but a vague skinless male human. Like an image from one of her study books only wildly colored. Fresh and unaffected soft tissue glowed a cool blue while each wound screamed a bright red, the most worring to Shika was the growing blackness where his legs used to be. It had already claimed everything below the knee and refused to end its advancement. Master's quiet voice reached her like a cool breeze through a tunnel. "Look past the obvious," it whispered. Shika stretched her mind a delved deeper into the patient. She saw past the shredded muscle fibers and torn blood vessels, past the broken bones. What she thought was a singular connection to the Force was actually millions of tiny theads connected to each cell. Some strong and vibrant others faint or fading altogether. Shika took hold of the weakest lines and funneled her own Will into them, lending the cells every bit of strength she had. Shika didn't care if this man was a minion of her Father's Army or just an unlucky mercenary, he was a fellow soul of Force. She would not fail him, this man would live through whatever came next.

[member="Charity Luckless"]

 

[Charity Luckless]

As Shika abandoned her physical sight, so did Charity, retaining her grasp on her Padawan's shoulders as she sensed with and through the learner. Via Shika, the Jedi Knight prodded through the systems of the unconscious Mandalorian with gradually increasing precision. It came through foggy initially, but the girl developed her sense's clarity over the course of her proving.

"Good," she whispered encouragingly. Shika's master felt the contradiction in her mind but was proud that her student proved herself thus far to be merciful. "Remember to remain peaceful. Sometimes I try to speak comforting words to my patients, even when they are not awake. The mind is a powerful and intangible aspect of a being. Their ears may hear even when they cannot comprehend.

"Perhaps hearing his mother tongue may console his troubled mind, dear Shika."

[member="Shika Skirata"]