- Joined
- Jun 4, 2009
- Messages
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"Our dead are never dead to us, until we have forgotten them."
MID RIM REGION--CHOMMELL SECTOR
NABOO SYSTEM--NABOO: THEED
DAY AFTER BATTLE OF NABOO
A grayish white fog began to snake its way through the rubble filled terrain of Theed like blood seeping from an old wound. Columns of smoke rose from craters as shattered war machines and mutilated corpses littered the worn landscape. The Rebellion had stopped the Imperials within sight of their objective, but only barely.
Weary to the bone, the Rebels who could still stand began the "Mercy and Salvage" part of their job: Collecting weapons, unspent ammunition, any still functional mechanical parts, and gave the final moments to those who could'nt be saved while retrieving those who could. It was the part of war no one thought of, it was this part the soldiers tried to avoid. With the resources of the rebellion still small in stature, every little bit helped. Anything salvageable would be given a good home.
Surveying the battlefield from a short distance was Serrah Volsung, who, along with others from the order, were attempting to help where they could. For the first time, she was experiencing what a battlefield really looked like. She looked over the carnage and knew that these soldiers had just been through the longest day of their lives. The usual grass scented air reeked of explosives and ionized gas. She breathed in the unfamiliar stench, doing her best to ignore every impulse that told her to stay away from the area. Behind her, other Jedi and Rebels prepared to make their way through the field.
Serrah began her walk, covering her face with cloth as she made her way through. Every instinct she had told her to steer away from this place. It was filled with death and pain. She could feel the pain. It made her want to collapse where she stood. It was at that point where she stopped, pausing over a charred imperial corpse. She looked into the man's eyes and saw fear... no... she reached deeper, using the force to steady herself. She felt fear. This man was still alive.
She panicked, too unsure of what to do to. The pain this man felt was immense, it was flowing off of him like waves and crashing upon her senses as if they were a shore. She began to tear, but much to even her own surprise she knelt next to the injured storm trooper. Gently she cupped the burnt troopers hand and was about to call out for help, but was cut short by the sudden loss of pain emanating from the soldier. He was dead.
Depressed, Serrah stood back up, wiped a few tears away, and solemnly gazed upon the ruins.
MID RIM REGION--CHOMMELL SECTOR
NABOO SYSTEM--NABOO: THEED
DAY AFTER BATTLE OF NABOO
A grayish white fog began to snake its way through the rubble filled terrain of Theed like blood seeping from an old wound. Columns of smoke rose from craters as shattered war machines and mutilated corpses littered the worn landscape. The Rebellion had stopped the Imperials within sight of their objective, but only barely.
Weary to the bone, the Rebels who could still stand began the "Mercy and Salvage" part of their job: Collecting weapons, unspent ammunition, any still functional mechanical parts, and gave the final moments to those who could'nt be saved while retrieving those who could. It was the part of war no one thought of, it was this part the soldiers tried to avoid. With the resources of the rebellion still small in stature, every little bit helped. Anything salvageable would be given a good home.
Surveying the battlefield from a short distance was Serrah Volsung, who, along with others from the order, were attempting to help where they could. For the first time, she was experiencing what a battlefield really looked like. She looked over the carnage and knew that these soldiers had just been through the longest day of their lives. The usual grass scented air reeked of explosives and ionized gas. She breathed in the unfamiliar stench, doing her best to ignore every impulse that told her to stay away from the area. Behind her, other Jedi and Rebels prepared to make their way through the field.
Serrah began her walk, covering her face with cloth as she made her way through. Every instinct she had told her to steer away from this place. It was filled with death and pain. She could feel the pain. It made her want to collapse where she stood. It was at that point where she stopped, pausing over a charred imperial corpse. She looked into the man's eyes and saw fear... no... she reached deeper, using the force to steady herself. She felt fear. This man was still alive.
She panicked, too unsure of what to do to. The pain this man felt was immense, it was flowing off of him like waves and crashing upon her senses as if they were a shore. She began to tear, but much to even her own surprise she knelt next to the injured storm trooper. Gently she cupped the burnt troopers hand and was about to call out for help, but was cut short by the sudden loss of pain emanating from the soldier. He was dead.
Depressed, Serrah stood back up, wiped a few tears away, and solemnly gazed upon the ruins.