Pilots' Quarters

[Jago]

~ " Forget fortifying, what good is being reactionary?"

Jago spoke suddenly, almost snapping slightly at the idea that they simply call for aid and move a few pieces around on the dejarik board. His boots began to shift, leading him into pacing back and forth within the Ready Room, for all intents and purposes appearing as if a Sand Panther on a short leash.

" We shouldn't focus our efforts on shoring up our defenses, we should be out there. Being proactive and hunting that miserable excuse of a 'Jedi' and his bastard children that followed him here."

Ander was back.

That ...

Jago could only curl his fists tighter at the notion, frustrated beyond belief. First the Mandalorians, the deaths of so many within only minutes of opening hostilities, the dead that continued to litter their home and slowly turn the Jungle into a graveyard ...

And now this. He wondered to himself, was this just good planning by the Mandalorians? A trick of sorts? Had they known that such information would throw a spanner into the Moon's defense, and, if so, were they waiting to capitalize on the shifting lines, the necessary changes to the stratagem?

" We can't just fortify," he repeated, shaking his head, drawing in a deep breath to try and center himself.

Emotion, Yet Peace.

Never had the words rang so hollow in his thoughts. This was not a time for Peace: it was a time for Justice. Was that not also a Jedi virtue? To right wrongs, and lay upon the wicked the burden of their sins?

With that in mind, Jago was prepared to crush Ander Tagira under the weight of all he had done. To this Temple, to those he claimed as family. The scars ... The scars were all still there. On Ronan, Ksandra. Tebana. Himself. Even after, after all of it, still the man had the audacity, the arrogance to come here!

" We need to find him. We need to find him and ... deal, with him."

Jago left the exact nature of what would be necessary vague. Should they capture Tagira ... what was the right thing to do? See if his cause was somehow just? Imprison him?

The Jedi did not believe in killing their prisoners ... And a small, sinister thought whispered into the youngest Jedi's ear that if the man was not a prisoner, such rules did not apply.

" The longer he and GALSAF are allowed to run around, unchecked, with the Mandalorians, the less of a chance we have of holding the Praxeum. Even if we fortify and shift our positions and tactics around, they know the Plan Beshes, the Creshes, Dorns, all of it. They expect us to hunker down and hold them off, and frankly, after two kriffing days of reacting to whatever they do, I'm getting a little eager to show them what it's like to be pursued and hunted."

" They know we would throw up a stonewall defense in a situation like this," he restated, finally stopping his unnerving motion to look over the trio of compatriots.

" They aren't going to expect us to strike back. To hit hard. To forcibly remove their Forcedamned talons from Yavin Four. It'll put GALSAF on their heels, and might just make him reveal himself if we cause enough trouble."

And I want him to stick his head out. That I do. ~

[Zuli Madoon]

"Forgive me for not being clearer in my words, my friend.."

"By fortifying our weaknesses here, I did not mean that we shall sit and try to wait them out.." "I merely mean to protect the Praxeum and those seeking safety within it's walls. It does not mean that we will stop striking out at these invaders and any of the GALSAF foolish enough to stand toe to toe with us all.."

"Any that do not flee shall indeed face justice for their crimes.."

[Dav Man'Sell]

[Tebana Sor]

Tebana watched Dav changed as years of struggle, combat and fight for survival all started to show in a split second on his chiselled features. She saw something change pace, felt him reach a silent conclusion that eased out from his innermost self towards what was visible to the outside, to his friends, his family standing right beside him in what had become a too close quarter after Jago’s outburst.

He gave his orders, without really waiting for confirmation, his resolve reflecting in the few steps it took him to reach the door.

She turned her deep, dark eyes on him as he stood, her head bowed slightly.

<< Be careful…? >>

Her voice in her head had the same tone as her look, stuck forever between keeping him close to her, while sacrificing their love for their vows and their calling through the Force.

Whatever eluded him, whatever had driven Ander to come back to a home he had once sworn to protect, Dav would be the one to find the answers.

[Dav Man'Sell]

His eyes turned towards the floor as he heard her thoughts in his mind, before he found her gaze again. The slightest echo of a smile pulled at the corner of his lips. That was what she did. That was what she always did. She cared for others. When things got hard, when the universe made everything terrifying and challenging, and pushed everyone to their limits, that was the truth of them both. When it came down to it, he fought. He always fought. And she always cared.

He gave her a small nod, eyes sinking shut for the duration.

<<Always.>>

With that, he hefted the arm full of armour he carried, and left for his quarters. Wash up, re-equip, and then back out into the rain. Man on a mission.

[Tebana Sor]

As the door to Tebana Sor and Dav Man’Sells quarters slid closed, there was a moment of silence before a long held sigh escaped her. She closed her eyes for a moment against the artificial lighting that came to life instantly before crossing over into the fresher unit. Carefully avoiding a too close look at herself in the mirror, she bent down to wash her hands with water for a change. True and real water. No artificial disinfectant solution. Just water. The cold wet brought her back into her body quickly and even if it was only a small thing, she felt refreshed.

She would need all her wits about her for what was to come now.

Dav had just been listed as back on site after another outing in the jungle taking out Mando squads that roamed freely on Yavin now. He was surely to get back to his quarters for a shower, a change of clothes and something to eat before heading back out again.

She went through the previous few iterations of the discussion that was about to take place in their own four walls once more. This time however, she wouldn’t let go so easily. Here, in a closed space of their own, she hoped to gain a bit more traction with their fearless leader who after her own count hadn’t slept for more than two hours in stretches of 2 days, since the siege had begun 6 days before. The odd booster meditation not counting.

The truth was that Dav was running himself into the ground with exhaustion. And while all the other Jedi could see and sense it, few knew why or how. They all counted on him to make the difficult decisions. And true, his particular conditioning wasn’t favouring him to pay particular attention to his own well-being. Being fairly indestructible, highly trained physically and mentally to function, survive and overcome the worst torture and most adverse conditions, Dav Man’Sell had been made to lead, to live and to fight. But even his strength had limits. Limits that could very quickly become crucial in this siege and his role in their survival.

Tebana knew that he wasn’t exactly blind to this circumstance, but she also knew the deeper truth behind his agitation and his blatant refusal to stop for even one single night to rest and resource himself. Dav Man’Sell was a survivor. He couldn’t stop. When stoping meant death. He couldn’t rest when stoping meant dying. He had survived a purge against the Jedi so powerful it had whipped them off the face of the galaxy. Ancient knowledge and power, all gone. And he had survived it all. Through sheer will and stubbornness.
The second that she had heard Mandalore use the word Jedi Purge, she knew the consequence this would have on Dav’s mind. The memories, the hurt, the terror, the pain, the loss… the anger at his own survival. The guilt.
It had fuelled his strength and his tactical thinking. But it would soon break his spirit in places she cared not to witness.

Up until now, he had refused any kind of reasoning, had skipped off to more pressing matters. Tebana had already decided her next course of action, but her love for the man everybody else only knew as the brilliant tactician and seasoned warrior, had brought her here once more in a last attempt of gentle nudging and reasoning.

She drew up both her ice cold hands in front of her face and breathed in deeply. The cold helped her focus. This would not be easy. She herself was barely standing on a couple of hours of sleep and no real food to speak of.
She stepped out of the fresher area and back into the main living area, took off her outer, sleeveless robes and belt and dropped them on the back of a near sofa before sitting down resisting the urge to cross her arms before herself. He’d use it all against her anyway. Her own fatigue, any defensive stance… he was a master at avoiding this confrontation, but this time, she had to press on.

As the door finally slid open to reveal the mud stained, massive form of one Jedi Battlemaster Dav Man’Sell, she released any past frustration with him into the Force.

“You’re back.”

[Dav Man'Sell]

Another time, a quip about his front and both his sides also being present might have made it into the humid air of the Praxeum, but as he stepped through the door, reaching up to unbuckle the armour that he wore strapped to his shoulders, the comment made it no further than the back of his mind before it died in the bone-weary exhaustion of another long, hard-fought night in the rainforest. His tired eyes looked out at her within dark circles, his thin lipped, grim smile tugging at his lips, surrounded by thick stubble and cheeks that had lost much of their colour. He gave no verbal response at first, simply exhaling heavily, eyebrows arching upward as he paced across the room to his desk, upon which lay just about every combat-useful gadget in his possession, along with numerous spare armour plates, power cells, and various other items of discarded debris. He slipped the armour off over his head, dropping it onto the desktop, followed by his combat belt, and begun unstrapping his vambraces too.

"It's been a long night. Messy."

He looked at her, offering yet another grim smile.

"I think I'll be washing Yavin mud out of my hair and skin for a month after this is done." His now de-braced left arm had found the buttons of his trademark dark Greatcoat, and now slowly popped them open one at a time. "Luckily, the coat's made of slightly more resistant stuff."

As the coat draped open, the final external and single internal button detached, Dav turned to lean back against the desk, his right hand now turning its attention to the hidden buckles holding the remaining vambrace in place. He looked down at it, frowning in frustration as he found the catch of the first buckle to be stiff and tricky to operate, and only then noticed that significant indentation deforming the inner side of the arm.

"Damn. Must have done that when I hit the big one on the head."

He wrapped fingers under the bracer, pressing up against the inside, and with gritted teeth, and the slightest trickle of the Force, the indentation popped part-way back out. That done, he was able to separate the buckle, and the vambrace joined its partner on the desktop. The Jedi Battlemaster now looked at Tebana again.

"How are our wounded? Ronan's supplies helping?"

It was small talk, weary talk. Distracted talk, as his hands worked to unstrap his armoured boots, and his mind worked through yet further tactical and strategic scenarios. He found it was taking him longer to work through problems than usual, though the solutions, when he came to them, seemed just as thorough as they ever had. At least, as far as he could tell.

Is it any wonder? You've had less than a night's sleep in the past week.

It was another reason the talk was small talk. It had taken him a second look at her, but even with all the calmness and tranquillity afforded to her by wisdom and centring in the Force, even with her emotions in check, even without pressing too deeply into their Force bond, Dav could see Tebana's frustration with him, gathered in the tense muscles of her brow and jaw, in the way her eyes fixed on him, in the extra seconds between blinks.

He knew what was running through her mind. The very same thing that had run through his.

It was not a conversation he wanted to keep having.

[Tebana Sor]

Tebana was silent for a moment. She was in shock. He looked worse than she had anticipated. Here in the protection of their own four walls, he trusted her enough to at least not try and hide his true state of exhaustion and decomposition. Even if his small talk and the added underlying sense of warning - like the slow hum of a warding spell - made it clear that he wanted to avoid the subject.

Never, in all these years of shared combat, shared life, shared pain and shared love had she seen him like this. She barely recognised the strong, chiseled features under a frown that had become so deep, it hid his bright and usually so poignant eyes.

“We are holding our own. But I am worried.”

She let the words linger for a moment, baiting him deliberately.

“It’ll only be a matter of time before we’re faced with serious disease spread and infections. The rain and humidity… it’s not helping much. Even Ro’s bacta supplies cannot help with that.”

Tebana finally stood, stretching her back out for a moment, before turning to Dav and watching him unbuckle the last of his armour which landed on his large desk with all the other discarded bits and pieces.

And then she left her guard down. He had shown her his true fatigue, and he would have to hear it all now.
Her carefully composed calmness dropped away from her, leaving only a tight-knit web of worry, stress, fatigue and … pain. Loss. So much loss. The mix of emotion, so unjedi-like, welled up in her, permeated her, waved from one end of her mind to the other, bled into their Force bond without her blocking any of it.

“It’s been a long and messy week, love.”

The feeling subsided and drew herself back up squaring her shoulders against his frustration.

“You know why I am here. You will sit down now and unload. Then you will eat something more than a field ration, and then you will sleep. This is not a negotiation. And it’s not a request.”

[Dav Man'Sell]

To this he gave a broad, wearied smile, and a gentle shake of his head.

"Would love to. Can't. We're still vulnerable out there, and I have a lot of work to do."

He stood, crossed to her. His large hand, calloused with heavy action and marked with dry mud, brushed her cheek gently, fingertips lightly tracing her twin scars for a moment, before he tucked a wayward lock of her hair behind her ear.

"We're balanced on the edge of a vibro-knife, even now. Even with Ronan here to help strategise, we need all hands on deck. If they find the ion cannons or the shield generator, we're done for and fast. I need to stay on top of that."

Dav canted his head to the side, eyebrows arching high over his darkened, dimmed eyes.

"I still have more in me before I hit my limits. Special commando techniques, meditation, not to mention my natural talents. They all work, extend my endurance."

Or they did, until about yesterday. They're not working so well any more, are they?

They work well enough. I'm not finished yet.

With a twitch at the corner of his lip, which might have been the abandoned beginnings of another tired smile, the Jedi Master turned from her, sweeping his coat off and slinging it over the back of a chair. He lifted his dark red, sweat-stained shirt over his head, and slung that in the other direction, into a gradually growing pile of discarded clothes beside the desk. He turned his head to her.

"As long as I can keep fighting, I will keep fighting, because as long as I am out there fighting, a lot less soldiers are going to end up in your medbays." Dav dipped his chin, looking down at his weathered hands, which slowly closed into fists. "Once we work out the Fallanassi techniques, we can submerge the generator and the ion cannons in the flow of the Force, hide them completely. When we do that, we'll be able to pull back our front line a little more, concentrate on shoring up the defence of the Praxeum itself. Take a lot of people off the patrol rotation and build more solid defensive lines nearer here. Then, then I'll be able to rest a little." Again, his head gave a short shake. "Not yet."

[Tebana Sor]

And there it was again.

A solid wall of finely construed argument, of flawless and heroic reasoning, carefully laid emotional pressure with a small side-dish of guarded half-truths.

“That is a point well made. Congratulations, Battlemaster. Congratulations, General.”

His bare back turned towards her, she could barely make out the carefully added hand gestures meant to accentuate his carefully laid out points.

“I will be sure to remember them when I will speak at your funeral pyre in front of what remains of this place and of what you so aptly call our friends and family. I will make certain they know that you killed yourself for them.”

The hard edge in her voice and angry sarcasm felt bitter in her mind and mouth as she turned away from the desk and its discarded pieces of equipment and a half-undressed Dav.

“Don’t think for one minute… one single minute that I cannot see through you, Dav Man’Sell. You insult me. Special forces training? Meditation? Your physiology?!”

Tebana turned around quickly, her dark curls flying and her eyes ablaze.

“You forget, I KNOW you. I am your medical officer. Even your strength isn’t limitless. And: you are incapable of stopping. And you are incapable of considering your own well-being.”

She sighed and released enough of her own anger fuelled by her own exhaustion to allow for a calmed sigh.

“Doesn’t it count that I am worried about you? Does that count for nothing?”

Tebana stepped closer and laid a cool hand between his shoulders on his bare back where old scars spoke of old wounds and lost battles. Of nightmares made to crush a man’s spirit and of guilt. Of wild and excruciating survival and losing everything that had been dear to him on more than one occasion. Of the Purge and of thousands of cherished lives lost in an instant.

“I am begging you. My love. Please… “

If it had been anybody else, she would have slammed them with a sleeping suggestion powerful enough to knock them on their knees. Not that it would make more than a dent in Dav Man’Sell for most obvious reasons.

If it HAD been anybody else, you wouldn’t have let it go this far in the first place, she berated herself.

But there was a lesson here. A lesson of suffering and the long stretch. Of self-sacrifice and ultimately love. A lesson she feared Dav was incapable of accepting and understanding.

And again Tebana’s mind went to the last resort: betrayal. She wouldn’t use force on him just yet. Still hoping, as ever, that reason would reach him.

“Please.”