The Times and Trials of Sean Ailin

[Tanith Alde]

Which only made it that more abrupt when she suddenly stopped. Her posture changed from purposeful to guarded -- that told him everything. His free hand gripped his T-998 C. He'd let go of the crutch if they came under attack, but for now he wanted to see what she saw.

He wished he hadn't. The scene of carnage in front of him was something that nobody truly wished to see. It looked like a camp of Army Troopers had been attacked. Probably a checkpoint in the supply route. It wasn't until he noticed one of the banners that he truly came to regret the sight.

 

[Tanith Alde]

As quickly as his leg would allow he moved to the first trooper he could find, rolling the body over. It had already become stiff and had started to rot. But the badge were what Klightus was looking for.

"Thank the Force," he sighed under his breath. He looked up to Bethany. "This is the Fifth. I was w-worried that it was the Third for a moment. I..."

 

[Tanith Alde]

"KILL THE REBEL TRAITORS!"

There it was. That brief moment of panic whenever he was suddenly presented with combat. His head snapped up to the source of the voice; a group of the Imperials were running out from the cover of a tipped cargo transport. They had Blasters. His mind was still reeling from that revelation when there was the sound of a Saber igniting next to Sean. Almost immediately, one of the Imperials turned and fled.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Seems that Bethany didn't have that moment of panic. Which was enough to break him out of his reprieve. He lifted his rifle. Almost immediately, however, Bethany occupied half of his field of vision as she stepped in front of him. She was protecting him, putting herself between him and harm's way.

Well, bugger to that. Sean might have been Medicae, but he was Army, and every Army Trooper was a rifleman. Dammit, he was not going to let anybody die for him. He might die today, but by the Force, he was not going to let go without a fight.

 

[Tanith Alde]

He was halfway through his ammo when he noticed something landing nearby. It wasn't thought which propelled him, but instead instinct which slammed his body into Bethany's hard armor, bringing them both to the ground a hair before the grenade went off.

The world was eerily silent for a moment, though that faded to a persistent ringing in the ears. As much as Sean wanted to contemplate how long that ringing might last, they were still being shot at. Virtually being thrown off of the jedi didn't help matters any.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Bethany had already raised to a crouching position, her saber twirling in a defensive pattern, arching through the air.. For as loud at the fight was, she was oddly silent, a look a pure wrath on her face. Good enough for him. He forced himself to his feet, slapping her shoulder and pointing at the nearby tranport. "Cover," he yelled before running towards it as best he could. His leg did not want to work at all.

Moments later, Bethany made a controlled retreat behind the downed transport. She used the cover well, at least, peeking out to try and survey the enemy's numbers. How many of these guys were there?

Sean , though, had other concerns. Namely, the corpse in front of him. Long dead, no sense in even checking, but that wasn't his concern. It was the Trooper's weapon. Since Bethany had her side covered, he moved to the other. Unlike her, though, he didn't peak out.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Though the transport offered good protection against the blasters, it would limit one person's cover, making it easy for them to be flanked. Sure enough, within moments an Imperial poked his head around to fire.

Unfortunately for him, Sean pulled the trigger on the scatter blaster. Lightly armored as he was, the trooper had no chance at all. Without waiting to make sure that he was dead (what was the point?) Sean pushed around the corner, firing into the cluster of Imperials quickly trying to backpedal from the heat. Those that dove out of the way met a grisly fate from Bethany, who had decided to leave cover.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Bethany's saber flew through the air, with one last fleeing Imperial meeting a messy fate. Gasping for air, Sean leaned against the ruined transport. His throat felt raw, as if it might be bleeding. The entire battle he'd been screaming curses and oaths in rage. Now, however, he was beginning to wear down.

Slowly, the high that he'd been riding ebbed out of his body, leaving him to actually be able to see his surroundings.

His body was beginning to communicate with him again. "Although my b-body is broken... Al... Although my blood p-pours away... Although my time may... GAH! End. The Gods will greet me, and embrace m-m-me with ..." Sean felt his body slumping to the ground, his leg no longer able to support any weight at all. "If only I r-remain... constant to them... Through this time of..."


His hand went to the tear in his pants, gripping his wound. Bad idea. Glancing down, he saw red in the bandages. Plenty of red. "Of torment..."

Pain speckled his vision. Had he pushed himself too far? Would his family get what they had prayed for? The world began a slow, jerking spin as he slumped to his side on the cold ground.

Boots approached. He forced his eyes open again, looking up to Bethany. How weak he must look to her. How pitiful. She barely looked like she'd worked up a sweat, and here he was, fighting to remain conscious. Some hero of the Republic he turned out to be. Slowly his eyes closed, and the world went black one final time.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Consciousness came and went. He was briefly aware of being alone. Then came the dim knowledge of being carried. He wasn't sure if he was dreaming or not, but he could have sworn that Bethany forced him to drink something. Then warmth. Comforting warmth. The kind that made you think that you might have been released from your torment and taken into the Heaven's embrace.

Finally, his eyes opened. Somehow, he was in a tent. Somebody had made a pallet of blankets for him to sleep on, and had tucked him in tight. It was warm. Nice. Somehow, finer than the sheets he had back home, even if he was comfortably numb. Funny how situations like this could make creature comforts seem drastically different.

He rolled his head to the side. His eyes didn't want to focus. After a moment, he recognized what was lying next to him. His clothes. Including his personals. That made the brain come out of its fog a little more. He looked over to his other side...

 

[Tanith Alde]

...to see Bethany curled up under a blanket. Not the same one as him, but they were sharing the pallet. That brought his brain as close to fully operational as it could get. His head turned sharply to stare at the roof of the tent, his eyes wide as saucers. His breathing came in sharp, shallow pants. He became aware of the fact that, despite his personals lying right next to him, he was wearing undergarments. Somehow, that was even more terrifying.

Curiosity, however dangerous a thing it might be, is hard to ignore. Sean took a deep breath and looked back to Bethany... right into those pale eyes. Immediately, his head snapped back to bore holes through the roof. Despite how out of it he felt, he still could feel his cheeks burning.

 

[Tanith Alde]

Bethany, however, didn't say anything. Now that he thought about it, she hadn't said a single word since he'd met her. Odd. She rose and moved across the spacious tent to a stove, turning it on.

He couldn't help but look again. For once, she wasn't in her armor. She was in robes. Rather nice ones, somehow looking both comfortable and official at the same time. He watched her work, idly noting the small scars on her legs and arms. What little he could see that weren't covered by the robes. As she turned, holding a cup, his eyes couldn't help but wander to her neckline, noting a scar that ran across her shoulder, and further down...

But just as he was staring at her, she was staring at him. He blushed again, looking away -- he hadn't felt this embarrassed since he was thirteen and his sister caught him staring at one of the servants dressing.

 

[Tanith Alde]

But then she was kneeling at his side, helping to lift his head. He let her give him the pill and took the caf eagerly. The warm liquid spread through his chest pleasantly -- a sure sign of dehydration. It made sense. They said he'd lost a lot of blood, and with how hard they'd been pushing... and the further bleeding...

As if reading his mind, Bethany moved the blankets, causing a moment of... Panic? Fear? It wasn't a happy emotion that shot through him, but he wasn't sure what it was exactly. It dissipated, however, when she started to unwrap the stained bandages on his leg.

He'd popped a stitch. Several, from the looks of it. A part of him knew that's what had happened, but that didn't make it any more pleasant to see. Somehow, wounds on other soldiers were easier to swallow than his own. "Um... Could... Could you get me m-my-my pack?"

 

[Tanith Alde]

She nodded once and stood. He'd briefly forgotten just how tall she was, and the angle... was enough to make his eyes firmly on a mark on the tent's ceiling. She returned a moment later, laying it down to give him easy access to the contents. What little there were left -- he hadn't restocked after the battle. Still, there was enough.

The needle and thread, both sterilized, were produced. He said a soft prayer, followed by three litanies -- it never hurt to beg for a little bit of extra help. Especially when his hands felt so numb. That, though, was a good thing -- he only felt pressure when the needle pierced the flesh of his leg.

After the third time, however, shaking hands clumsily set the tools of his trade aside. Bethany, again, lifted his head to feed him some caf. It turned out to be a bad idea, but to his credit, he managed to roll enough to keep from hitting the pallet. Sadly, rolling onto his bad leg was enough to make him actually feel it again. It and his arm.

His stomach emptied and shaking, he tried to find a position that was comfortable. Tried and failed. If Bethany thought any less of him, she didn't let it show. She pulled the blanket back around him and set about to cleaning up the mess.

 

[Tanith Alde]

He wanted to apologize, but his body just wasn't up for it.

When Seans awoke later in the day, Bethany was already in armor. She sat on a stool, his blaster rifle across her lap, cleaning it.Twice now it had been in combat. He wouldn't blame it for needing a little attention.

He was content to watch her work, the white hair framing her face. The guided movements of her hands. The small nick on her jawline. The tattoo on her cheek, almost like a beauty mark.

She rose, carefully setting the rifle aside, and moved to the tin cup on the stove. She turned to him and moved slowly to his side again. When did she notice he was awake? She held the cup questioningly until he tried to lift his head. Once again, she helped him, holding the cup to his lips. Short, careful sips. No more than a single swallow at a time. Finally he let go, falling back...

 

[Tanith Alde]

The sun was setting. This time his head was clearer.

"Um, Be... Bethany?" She turned to face him, smiling faintly. "If you... If you don't mind me asking, uh, but are we... You know, s-s-safe here?"

That question seemed to amuse her enough that she left the tent for a few minutes. When she returned, she had an object in her hand. It's purpose was immediately obvious.

"M-mines. I see." He fidgeted a little, debating. "Did you put them, um, close to the camp?" A shake of her head. A wide perimeter. Right. "O-Okay. Then could you... get me my crutch?"

She looked at him quizzically for a moment until realization dawned. There was laughter of sorts -- quiet, more jerking breathing through her nose and a smile that reached up to her eyes than anything. But she had the decency to get him his crutch and grant him the privacy to go outside in peace.

 

[Tanith Alde]

They were still in the camp. She'd taken down the Commander's tent and set it up in a more secure location. The smell of burnt flesh was on the air still. Considering that he couldn't see any bodies... Well. Somehow, that told him to stay that much closer to the tent.

By morning he was feeling much better. Human, in fact. His leg still ached, but he'd refused one of her painkillers for it. Later, when he needed it. Besides, he wasn't sure how many she had. He did notice his pack was heavier -- she must have repacked it for him.

They paused at the edge of camp long enough for him to say a prayer for those who died. While he'd gotten dressed, she'd removed the mines. Though it would have been a pleasant surprise to any future scavengers, eventually somebody would come to reclaim the equipment here for the Army. They didn't want to accidentally take them out on accident.

At least, he hoped they didn't.

For three days, they travelled. Each day,Sean got a little bit faster. Each day, his leg hurt a little bit less. And each day, he found himself becoming more and more fidgety.

 

[Tanith Alde]

It wasn't necessarily because she didn't talk to him. Truth be told, he didn't really talk to very many people. He'd always end up stuttering, and then they'd laugh at him, even worse if they knew he was nobility. Fighting the urge to try and talk to people was always the hardest part. But there had always been people talking around him. Three days of walking, and he had no idea what to do with himself, to occupy himself.

Even with Bethany, Sean was lonely. And somehow, now that he was recognizing landmarks, it seemed to get worse. Simply knowing that they were going to be at the sight of the battle soon made him feel... dull. Hollow inside.

Bethany must have recognized it. As they sat for what he was sure would be their last lunch together, she prepared what must have been the most extravagant meal thus far, giving him an extra large potion. It wasn't until he saw how small of one she herself received that he was finally stirred to words.

 

[Tanith Alde]

" B-Bethany, you don-don't have to that. Here, t-take some. You need to keep your strength up as much as-" The glare that she shot him could both melt ice and freeze oxygen at the same time. Quickly, he drew back. "Then again, I'm n-not the type to insult a p-proper lady like yourself b-by refusing such a wonderful gift. That would be like s-saying that the Commander had terrible taste in r-rum. ...Which he does, b-but you d-don't say that if you like your limbs. Um, I mean, thank you? ...And sorry?"

Judging by her smile and the way her shoulders were shaking, he was guessing that she was amused. That sent a small thrill up his spine. He'd done good, that time! His own smile was eager and earnest.

"Um... when... When I was young, there was a member of Orders ... Kn-Knight Kandra. She ended up t-taking care of me. A lot, I guess. But, um, when I was six, I... sort of fell off a balcony. ...and through some glass. Um, you probably, you know, saw the scars. But anyway, while she was helping me recuperate, she told me... She told me two things..."

 

[Tanith Alde]

"The first was that I should a-always trust in the Force's guidance, that through it, I would find all that I n-needed, . And I have! But, uh, that isn't the important part." He drew a breath. "She also told me that... If I w-was ever in trouble, hurt, l-lost, or in n-need of guidance... or whatever... She said to always find a Jedi. That they w-would help me."

Sean bit his lip. It stung a little -- he must have gnawed a hole in it at some point. "What... I'm trying t-to say that... I... Thank you, Knight Bethany. I... You and your Order came at the right time. For us, I mean. You s-saved a lot of men, and... me. And you went out of your way to help... me." He looked down at his food, hard. "I... I don't know w-why, but... Thank you."

He never saw her reaction. He was too embarrassed. He'd started out so encouraged by her mirth that he just started blubbering, and now... Sean focused on his meal until it was done, then kept his distance until they were ready to leave.

 

[Tanith Alde]

It was getting close to dark as they crested the hill, giving them a clear view of the battlefield. Sean stopped, leaning on his crutch as he surveyed the area.

Nothing.

An entire regiment leaves a huge mark on the land. The scars were there, but there weren't any of the people. He did up the math in his head, and the numbers didn't quite add up. The only way that they could have been gone like this is if they started packing up within a day of the battle. Tops. For the first time in hours, he looked to Bethany directly, but her hard gaze on the horizon gave him no sense of satisfaction.

Until her hand shot out, pointing into the distance. He followed her gaze, squinting. For several moments, he found nothing... and then, it looked like a transport, but...

Sean opened his mouth to ask, but Bethany was already on a direct march. Well, at least she answered the question in her own way. Grunting, he walked, mentally repeating the words of his commander -- move as if you have a purpose. He had a purpose, all right. Like finding out where in the force's his regiment was.