He stood and wiped the ash and dust from his clothes. As he cleaned his pants and tunic he thought, How could they give me a mission like this so soon? Surely a more experienced Knight or even a Master would be more suited to this type of assignment. It had only been 16 days since his master, Surme, had knighted him and announced that his time as a padawan was over. He still had the small stump in his hair from where his traditional padawan braid had been before Surme had cut it off. Keep it together Lokran. If you let them see you fall apart they will all think you are week. With that thought he walked over to his second in command, Lieutenant Fram. Fram saluted Lokran with the precision and crispness that was his trademark and was required of all under his command. Lokran returned the salute with a clumsy attempt at the same precision. An aging man in his late fifties, Fram, was satisfied with his position and rank in the Grand Army. He showed this by being extremely efficient at his job. Lokran was dissappointed that he had not been justly rewarded for the years of exemplary service he had given to the Republic. "Sitrep Lieutenant. I want to know the numbers on our casualtiesand infirmed in 5 minutes or less. Understood?" "Yes general, I'll make it 3 minutes." With that, Fram hurried off into the medical tent. He's a good man. I hope he makes it out of this kriffin war. The battle had lasted only 3 hours, but had felt like days. He felt something wet drip down his leg and noticed he was bleeding from his leg. By the looks of it, a stray blaster bolt had grazed his thigh deep enough to make it bleed but not enough to cauterize the wound. As he looked all around him he saw the landscape was either ash or burning. As he looked to the sky he saw that it was clogged so full of smoke and ash that the sun was almost completely blacked out. Funny, he thought to himself, I can see more around me from the fires than I can from the sun. I wonder what will happen when they all burn out. He then noticed Fram standing at his side, his tan and weatherworn looking face gaunt and morbid. "Lieutenant?" Lokran asked with raised eyebrows. "Ah, yes sir. Our casualties are estimated from 800 to 1,000 troops, our infirmed are counted as 562, and our analysts suggest that an estimated 200 troops are missing." Fram related the information in a low, almost secretive voice. "Missing! What do you mean missing? Find them. Go and tell those analysts that I don't want estimates. Get me real numbers here Fram, or don't bring me anything at all!" "Yes sir." said Fram as he bowed and walked away. Lokran hated getting mad at his troops and hated even more taking out his anger on someone who didn't deserve it. He had always had trouble with his anger. His former master had never fully put out the fire that would always spring up in Lokran. This war was getting under everybody's skin. He felt another streak of blood down his leg. Before I can apologize to anyone, I need to get this kriffin leg patched up. With that, he took a deep breath and strode over to the medical tent.

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