Author: Whee, me again! Jenna just won't stop pestering me until I have written down her full story...

Summary: "Nobody said it would be easy." - Still Captain Jenna Melara would like things to run smoothly just for once. But for now there's only lots of fighing and a battle for Naboo. Partly co-written with joustingforcancer.

Category: Angst/Drama

Rating: T, just to be on the safe side

Disclaimer: Okay, this is gonna be funny. Star Wars on the whole belongs to The Flanneled One. But Jenna and Danna were first introduced by joustingforcancer who was so nice as to lend them to me. Thank you.

A/N: Although this one is only partly co-written with joustinforcancer, it can still be seen a companion piece to his story "Soldier", just like "Screw Up", "Big Girl" and "Casualties". If you haven't read at least the latter (and yet better: all of them), things could be a little imcomprehensible for you. If you still want to read it and have questions, feel free to ask them. I'll try to answer them. And remember:

Feedback will earn you a cookie, flames will roast my marsh-mellows.

Survivor

"Where did I go wrong, I lost a friend
Somewhere along in the bitterness
And I would have stayed up with you all night
Had I known how to save a life."

The Fray, "How to save a life"

One

„Echo 3, this is Red 1. Do you copy?" Mechanically, I raise my wrist and answer my comm.

"Red 1, this is Echo 3. I copy. What is it?" While waiting for the answer, I take a short look around. Debris is smoking everywhere, and small groups of medics are slowly walking through rows of injured soldiers, checking up on them, administering drugs, closing eyes…

"General Oreth orders you to a briefing on the Warhawk in 20 minutes. There's already a shuttle waiting for you and the remaining officers on the ground. We will transmit the coordinates." Okay. Being briefed on the Warhawk is one of the last things I want to do right now. I still haven't found out how many of my soldiers survived, who was injured, who got away unscathed.

Quite a number of heavily injured people are still awaiting transport. I need to find my platoon commanders and make sure there are enough down here to cover for me. I have a gunshot wound at my arm that's bleeding quite a lot. And a laceration over my right eye which is still continuing to obscure my vision. But those are really the least worries I have, and quite frankly I don't care if I ruin theWarhawk's furniture by bleeding on it. No, I want to be down here and stay and make sure everyone of my remaining soldiers gets treated accordingly to their condition.

"Echo 3, the shuttle will be taking off in 5 minutes. Make sure you arrive there in time. The general made it imperative that all his officers over company level be there." I sigh and look around, finally seeing one of my platoon leaders, 1st Lieutenant Thuiv, a Rodian who's second youngest officer in the regiment. Three guesses who's youngest.

He catches my gaze and comes over. "Captain?"

Thu looks as worse for the wear as I, and he's also limping a little. I wish I could just send him off to the Liberty with next available transport. "Oreth ordered me on the Warhawk. You're going to be acting company CO as long as I'm up there." I want to add "You okay with that?", but I can stop myself shortly before actually saying it. Took me long enough to learn to order people to do something, not just kindly ask them to.

He nods. "Yes, Ma'am. Anything else?" I want to shake my head, but think better of it in the end.

"Make sure you get that leg of yours treated soon. Wouldn't want to lose any more officers, would we?" Having to order people instead of asking them still doesn't mean not to take care of them. Which is one of my duties anyway.

He just nods and tips his head in answer. Nodding back, I turn towards the LZ of the shuttle. Forcing my tired and beaten body into a run, I just barely manage to catch it. Letting myself sink unto the last free seat, I lean my head against the wall and close my eyes. Good thing I have nothing to crawl behind now, like after the battle of the Xelric Draw. I'd be crying like a baby again if I had.

"Gentlebeings, I'm glad you could make it so fast." I wish Commodore Ichigan would just say what he wants from us. Because if he doesn't, I'm in grave danger of falling asleep on my very feet. Turns out, the briefing room on the Warhawk the General ordered us in doesn't have any furniture apart from a big holo table, several marking boards and a few consoles without chairs before them. You bet it's just my luck that he picks the only ship in the fleet whose war room doesn't have any chairs.

"I have summoned you here because there's some really bad news." Ooooh, great, I just love bad news! And anyway… I just went through a gritty and very bloody battle in the jungle and in urban surroundings, lost… oh… about half my company, saw one of my closest friends be practically fried by plasma grenade spray… I mean… how much worse can it get anyway?

"Ibit, would you be so kind?", the Commodore asks the Mon Calamarian aide behind him in a friendly tone, but everyone can hear the steel beneath it. When the Commodore asks something it's always an order. The Mon Calamari just nods and presses a button on the remote control in his finned hand. Before us, a miniature picture of Naboo springs to live, complete with hovering big war ships and all the rest of the fleet around it. Obviously it's a real time picture.

Ichigan gestures towards the hovering globe with his finned hand and continues speaking: "As you can see, this is a picture of the situation around Naboo now. We have two war ships, one medical frigate and a number of smaller transports in the orbit, as well as troops on the ground. What some of you don't know is this:", he nods towards his aide again, and the camera zooms away from the globe to show a larger area of space.

And there, just on the edge of the view field, an alarming big cloud of red dots is hovering. As soon as it appears, a collective gasp is going through the row of officers surrounding the holo table. Commodore Ichigan points towards the cloud, and his warbles twitch with indignation as he speaks: "These dots you see here are the markings of a massive Imperial battle force heading straight towards us. We are lucky one of our reconnaissance fighters was able to get so far to gather this data because they are obviously planning a massive counter attack just when the fights on the planet have subsided. Ad-hoc analysis strongly suggests they will still do so. As for now, no signs of them having detected our fighter finding them are showing up, but this can change any moment. So…", his sweeps his gaze over everyone of us, as if assessing how we will react to his next sentence. "Any suggestions, gentlebeings?"

For a moment, the room is silent. Then, Borlin, by now a Major, clears up his throat and says: "There's only one possibility, sir: Immediate retreat."

Before he can say more, another Mon Calamari – the bars on her uniform identify her as a Captain, and the name tag says "Aaksam", which is the captain of the other warship, the Lusla – raises her finned hand and says: "And abandon all those people to their fates? What kind of liberation force would we be if we let that happen?"

"Yeah, for you that's easy to say…" chimes in a rather mean looking Devaronian. I know him. Major Raal Sirra, CO of one of the other companies. Just can't never remember it.

Aaksam's warbles twitch, and even for someone not very accustomed to the behaviour of Mon Calamarians it's pretty easy to estimate that she is not happy at all at being interrupted by just about anyone, let alone an infantry grunt. "And why is that so, Major?"

I bet if Mon Calamarians had eyebrows, she'd be raising one of them expectantly now. But as it is, her big eyes just stare at Sirra, challenging him to answer something rash and stupid. I'd be, too, in her position. Sirra really isn't an easy-tempered person. "Because you are sitting up here in your little star ships, with your clean uniforms, never getting your hands dirty…"

"Major Sirra, I would appreciate it if you would not let inter-army differences cloud your judgement." The Commodore also turns his eyes to Sirra who for a moment is actually shrinking back from the almost piercing look. "There are far more important things than petty arguments of who gets the brunt of the fight. So, do you have anything more to say than unjustified accusations?" For a moment, Sirra's eyes glitter, and he blacks his impressive teeth.

But then I see Oreth slightly shake his head at the insolent Devaronian, and he shakes his head, murmuring a "No, sir." No one fails to notice that he didn't apologize either to Aaksam or to Ichigan, though. Sirra, one day you'll trip over your big mouth and will stumble right into shit so deep not even your horns will be poking up anymore.

What follows then is a battle of wills and of arguments, a battle of infantry and recons against fleet officers, a battle of higher ranking officers against lower ranking officers, and the only battle I am fighting is the one against fatigue. Now that the adrenaline from the battle has fully dissipated and my wounds have really started to hurt – regardless of the fact that they had been dressed provisionally on the battlefield – I slowly start to lose the fight against just falling asleep right here and now.

Until a deep and commanding Mon Calamari voice suddenly says: "Enough. This debating will get us nowhere. We will vote now, and this will be a definite decision then." Oh, great, a vote! My poor battered and neglected Chandrilan heart makes a little happy dance at the suggestion of using democracy as a mean to decide something. If I wasn't just this tired… "So, everyone in favour of staying please raise their hand. Thank you. Now, please everyone who is in favour of leaving… Captain Melara?" I shake my head. I didn't just fall asleep, did I?

Throwing a look around tells me I very well might have. Everyone is throwing me either disapproving, pitying and/or spiteful looks. I clear my throat. "Yes, sir?" Ichigan sets his big eyes on me and I have the very feeling that he looks absolutely pissed.

"Your vote,Captain. Are you in favour of staying or leaving?" I gulp. Errr… Another look around. All those who want to leave still have their hands raised, and it appears as if there is a stalemate. Half of the officers are contra leaving, half of them are pro leaving. When I realize that my vote will be the one to decide over the fate of… countless of beings, I actually pray to the Gods for letting me disappear to some remote corner of the universe but as always the wish is not granted. Great.

Have to think now… staying… staying would mean the death of countless more of our troops, most possibly with the result of total annihilation of both the fleet and the infantry. Leaving… leaving would mean that we abandon the inhabitants of Naboo to an unknown fate at the hands of the Imperials. On the other hand… wouldn't it be even worse if we stayed? Wouldn't they have at least a chance of surrender if we left? I take a deep breath. "I vote that we leave, sir." Ichigan just nods, and the strained silence in the room seems to erupt into a chaos of voices.

But before the tiresome discussion from before can start again, Ichigan barks out a loud "Dismissed!" and I finally make my way to the exit. Sleep… sleep is just around the corner now… "That was a wise decision, Captain. But I can assure that it will cost you a few friendships you value." Or maybe not. I turn around. Amidst the leaving officers, Borlin stands before me, giving me one of these calculating looks that always makes you feel like the prey meeting its destiny.

But I've had it now. "Whatever you say, sir. I just want to remind you of the fact that my friendships are none or your business. If you'd excuse me now…"

"Oh yes, they are, if they consider my people. If I were you, I wouldn't speak to Sergeant Nalan for at least the next four weeks. And if you still do: Don't say I didn't warn you." And then he just gives me a nod and rushes past me. What the…? How dare he… The comm beeps again. Argh. Grumbling I take it out.

"Echo 3, this is Echo-Delta 1, do you copy?" Lieutenant Thuiv. What does he want now?

"Echo-Delta 1, I copy. What do you want?" I can't really understand him over a wave of static at first, but then it clears up again.

"We have a little trouble down here sorting out equipment issues… I recommend you come back down, ma'am." I sigh. Oh well. I'd would have had to go down anyway, to take care of the evacuation effort. And maybe I can clear up this whole "I wouldn't talk to Sergeant Nalan, if I were you"-thing while I'm at it.

"Acknowledged, Lieutenant. Please prepare everything for a rapid evacuation of all remaining personnel while I catch the next shuttle down. Echo 3 out."