"Hey I remember that line! That was in a holovid once!"

-Miss Wraith exclaiming proudly her knowledge of the mundane

"HEELLOOOO?! IS ANYONE HERE?!"

By the Force these things are loud. Isn't there a volume switch on these at all? Mira thought, covering her ears as they throbbed with the painfully deafening sound of her own voice being amplified several times over by a mere com unit. Although the thought of using the old fashion Mark 1 speech unit of hers had crossed her mind, the annoyance having to be deafened was something she was going to have to put up with for a while longer. Besides, the alternative to using the gear that was somewhat forcefully pushed upon wasn't that much better; after all who in their right of mind would want to fill their lungs with smoke and ash in a time like this was beyond her comprehension.

Using the Imperial's spare equipment and her own connection in the Force, the young Jedi was able to find and rescue a few of the academy's staff who had been trapped by the recent explosions that had rocked the peaceful night. While her previous master and mother figure, rest her soul, would have objected quite loudly to the use of the oppressors' gear and tactics, Mira couldn't help but feel oddly comforted by the fact that out of all those they had run into, she was using his of all things. Although she still could not forgive Varl for what he had done, she was more than willing to use particular tools of his trade. Chuckling to herself over this strange turn of events, the young Fenrisian could practically hear her old master screaming incoherently in the background, probably frothing over the fact that she was using the very same gear that had killed so many of them. A few seconds later, she realized that the gibberish wasn't coming from her imagination but from one of the staff members that was still left within the burning buildings.

"MISS LON- Longueville what happened to you?"

"Hmmmm? Why if it isn't Miss jedi lady, come have a sit right here, bask in this lovely warmth that this fellow and his partners so gratefully provided us."

"Miss…Longueville, are you alright?"

"Of course I am! Do you think a little spell like this would defeat theeee grrreat crumbling dirt? It will take more than that to take me down… Ahahahahaha!"

She has either lost the plot, oxygen deprived, or both. Mira thought, cursing herself for not knowing how to handle someone that was currently suffering the case of the wobblies. Then again, the fact that the person she was laying on top of wasn't someone from the academy was a credible reason as to why the green haired- Is that natural? - secretary was acting the way she was. Opening a com channel to the storm commando, Mira began to watch the delirious secretary very carefully as to not let her get out of sight. The sudden click she heard as the Imperial answered was somehow both a relief, and disconcerting at the same time. A corner of her mind was telling her that something was not right, but the rest of her brain was too focused to pay any attention.

"What do you need Jedi? I'm a little busy here at the moment."

"Sorry, but I've hit a snag on my end. The ah….secretary has found someone, possibly one of the perpetrators. Problem is that both aren't in states of walking under their own will at the moment."

"So?"

"Any suggestions?"

"Seriously?! Now's not the time for joking, use or bloody Force powers and toss em out the window or something. Or if the sec is conscious give her some oxygen, and then the both of you toss the bastard out the window. After that, come to the medical ward, they could really use your help in things over here. Varl out."

Well, that could have gone better. Mira mused, deciding it would be better to do the second option she was given. Coming up quickly to the brain addled mage, the young jedi was nonetheless surprised over just how heavy the smaller secretary actually was. A slight moment of hesitation however, was all the delirious and oxygen deprived woman needed.

"Oh Goddesses….we did not just do that."

Oh shavit, I knew I should have taken the advanced course.

Things over in the Tristian Magical Academy's medical ward were currently in a state of panic. Several of the students had been injured and were in various degrees of condition ranging from minor scrapes and cuts to loss of limbs and third degree burns. Although the medical profession in the backwards world were quite capable in their own right, having the ability to outright reverse the damage done in the minor to moderate cases , the fact that those with severe injuries outnumbered the lighter casualties was more than the few doctors on site could actually handle. The healers just simply weren't prepared to deal with this kind of situation; the Imperial could literally hear the strain in their voices, the fear behind the cold mask of professionalism.

It was a scene Varl was all too familiar with, having seen in on countless battles across several worlds. While he as well as several other storm commandos, had witnessed such carnage along the front lines- being sometimes used as a second wave assault on the more hardened targets- it was something he truly detested to see. To hear the crying and screaming of several children, some of them barely in their teens, reminded the Imperial of events long since past; the fate of Home had similar events played out which were already seared into his memory.

I will fucking kill someone for this.

A slight gasp of air from below him and the sergeant's thoughts were quickly put back to the task on hand. Currently, having one hand inside a former victim of his, the irony which did cross his mind, John was realizing just how rusty his medical skills were at the moment. Looking down on-what was his name- Guiche, the idiot who picked a fight with him which nearly got the poor sap killed, Varl was doing his damnest to save the kids life. Holding a bottle of kolto in his mouth, something he had been able to easily synthesize with the materials on hand –much to his surprise of course- the Imperial idly wondered if he should congratulate the brat for risking his life to save others, or to smack him across the head for nearly getting himself killed all over again. Such actions would have to wait though, as the storm commando was far better suited in the art of death in comparison to the far lighter side of the Force.

"Sergeant…..Are you trying to kill him?"

"I...have no clue."

"What?"

"The kid lost the plot a bit and did something stupid. Saved a bunch of the staff while at it but ended up reopening his wounds."

"So did you or he have a change of heart on something?"

"Just…help me alright? Their doc's are too busy at the moment…and well…."

It felt odd, really odd, for the Imperial to ask a former POI for assistance; even more so when he was doing something that both defied what many back in their galaxy had thought storm troopers were capable of. The fact that she said nothing of it, much to his relief, and started to use her own powers of healing was more than he could have really asked for. Score one for her, minus two hundred seventy nine worlds and space colonies against the rest of the thrice damned Jedi Order.

It took the better part of an hour, and three close calls, but the two had finished the job. Although both of them had rather low levels of medical experience, the pair did make a rather good team. If it wasn't for her connection to the Force, I don't know what would have happened. John thought, sighing heavily as he rested upon a wall outside the ward. Looking upon his blood soaked hands, having removed his gloves during the entire procedure; the storm commando couldn't help but marvel at the difference between field surgery and the relatively easier combat life saver program he took so long ago. Shaking his head slightly, the sergeant looked outside into the night sky and last vestiges of fire still burning wondering, "What Would Thrawn Do?"

Sorry bout the late update guys, but truth is...I just didn't feel like writing for a while...Just had a massive writers block really and whatnot. In order to answer some questions that may come about, the total number of space colonies (think UC Gundam Style or whatever floats your boat), which would consist of a vast majority of that number John was referring to, just so the actual number of planets, while small compared to the Old Republic, is still size-able for a multiple sector wide civilization. On the other hand, I have been busy with getting a custom armor project of mine off the ground and put into production with a prop company known as Far Away Creations, which in my opinion is a pretty epic group of people. For those of you who want to see what the concept looks like, here ya go: albums/d83/Zachg56/TrooperArmorversion_whatevs_ver sion2alt_alt_