Era of Rebellion - Navigation

Sean Brandt and Christopher Levy.
Zero years after the Battle of Yavin (35:10:33) in the Rhinnal system: Rhinnal (Rhire: Dagon Tong's safe house).
Corporal Lovora Rikki and Lady Jelena Rodney.

It was cold. It was always cold on Rhinnal. Lady Jelena Rodney felt out of place among the Rebel cell, having spent her entire life among the upper echelons of Alderaanian society. She had never experienced hardship. She had never experienced life on her own. But most of all she had never experienced this cold. Gone were the formal dresses she wore to galas, replaced instead of the darkened plainclothes favored by the Rebellion. She was wearing a hooded jacket that helped to conceal her identity on the few occasions she was let out of the safehouse, but mostly she just sat around feeling useless ... while freezing. General Rieekan had said she'd be of use to the Rebellion, but mostly she was being held for propaganda value. She was being used by the Rebellion to sway public opinion on the locals, but they did not completely trust her ... so she sat around. Today she was sitting again, but this time she was staring into the bacta tank containing the wounded corporal, Lovora Rikki. She admired the bravery of the commandos, and was impressed by their daring, even if they viewed her as a useless, untrustworthy trophy.

Lovora Rikki wasn't much in the way of rank, and she really didn't exude a commanding presence, but what she lacked in these qualities she made up for with an exuberant and joyful demeanor which was sorely missed by some at this point. Were it not for the fact they had secured a bacta tank for the safehouse, the Corporal would be dead. For days she floated in the tank, sterile robes protecting some bit of modesty as she remained unconscious, kept alive by a series of tubes and the mask over her mouth and nose. The automated systems of the tank monitored her status, tracking the reconstruction around the deep, near fatal wounds in her torso and thigh. There had been nothing to suggest she would be ready to exit the tank soon, but as Jelena watched the young commando float, a small alarm activated. The tank's systems were indicating that she needed to be removed.

When the alarm went off, a panic stricken expression appeared on Jelena's face, wondering if she had done something wrong to cause the alarm. "Oh no. What did I do?" she said to herself, as she got up, and moved around the safehouse trying to find someone. Most of the Rebels had gone to Kooriva, and the medic was off at the academy preparing another load of medical supplies. She let out a frustrated sigh when she realized that there was no one who could help, and so she chose to move towards the bacta tank itself. Examining the readout she saw that the healing cycle had run its course, and so she pressed the button that would flush the tank and release the patient. She had no idea if she was doing the right thing, but there was no one else around to ask. She took a few nervous steps away from the tank to watch the process unfold, crossing two fingers in her left hand for luck.

Fortunately for Jelena, the operation of the tank itself was fairly straightforward when it came to ejecting the patient. The bacta slowly drained out into a hidden reservoir, with a small set of harnesses keeping Lovora suspended as it did so. Once the tank was purged the harnesses lowered...and this was where trained medical staff would have a repulsorlift stretcher on hand to move the patient to recovery. Left to its own devices, the tank simply lowered Lovora to the bottom where she slumped down, the glass enclosure opening afterwards. As the automated systems cut off the flow of gas that had kept Lovora unconscious, she slowly began to come around. Confusion set in at first, blended with a drugged haze. Most of her body wasn't yet responding; all she could do was lift her head, eyes squinting through a blurred vision of the room beyond, a dull, throbbing pain lingering where she had been wounded. Oh yeah, that's right, she'd been hurt. Shot...but she had made it back. Hadn't she? Lovora couldn't quite recall.

"Oh no. Was it too soon?" Jelena asked herself, as she saw Lovora reacting less than splendidly. She moved quickly to grab a blanket, bringing it back towards the wounded commando as swiftly as she could. With the blanket in place, she attempted to lift the woman up, but she failed miserably. "Can you hear me?" she asked, noticing her eyes squinting. "Where is that medic..." she groaned, squirming uncomfortably as her eyes shifted about the room. She looked at the comlink she had, but she was warned never to use it in case of emergency, for fear the Empire might be monitoring, and could use the signal to track her location. Her eyes shifted between Lovora and the comlink nervously, wondering if this was just such an emergency.

Damn was it ever cold. Fast as Jelena moved, Lovora was already shivering by the time she got to her with the blanket. While it would still be a moment before she had much strength, Lovora could at least take hold of the corners of the blanket and tug it around herself. At the question, she gave a slow nod, and removed the mask with considerable difficulty. "I...yeah. I'm here..." Her voice was a little hoarse from disuse. She tried to sit up but did so far too soon, and ended up half collapsing into Jelena. While the bacta tank had certainly done its work, there was always a fair bit more healing to go before all was said and done.

"I'm sorry. I don't think I know your name..." Jelena said, feeling bad that she had been there so long without having the chance to get to know everyone. When the commando collapsed into her, she staggered back a bit, and she did her best to hold her up. "Hey. Take it easy," she said, sounding a bit concerned, helping the woman to sit up more slowly. "Maybe ... maybe you came out too soon," she speculated, as her eyes rolled up to look at the monitor to ensure she had read it correctly. "I ... I should have waited for Reilly to get back," she said, referencing the medic, as she began to fret over what to do.

Fortunately for Jelena, Lovora didn't exactly weigh much. Her assignment to support gunner back in training had always been a massive joke due to her size, but in this moment it absolutely served her well. With Jelena's help Lovora was able to sit on the edge of the tank, a hand on either side of her, bracing herself to keep from tumbling over in either direction. "Corporal...uhm...Corporal Lovora Rikki." A joke washed through her addled mind about coming out early, but she was still too hazy to make it manifest into actual words. Only the greatest of efforts kept her from giggling, though she did have a stupid grin on her face as she squinted at Jelena, finally making out some semblance of the girl in front of her. "Reilly?, you're not Reilly..." she stared, trying to make out the other woman's face. "'re that girl. The uhm...the one who ran away from the Empire..." She had heard the name, but damn if it was coming to her. The thought didn't last long, though, as she started looking around for someone else. "...where's Morlo?" She'd forgotten that too.

"Lovora?" Jelena repeated, making sure she was pronouncing it properly, as her eyes sympathetically focused on the recovering commando. "No. I'm not Reilly," she said, stating the obvious, while smiling sweetly and offering a faint laugh. "Yeah ... that's me ... my name is Jelena," she said, nodding her head slowly as she spoke. Everyone seemed to know *of* her, but very few had taken the time to actually get to know her. "Morlo? I'm sorry. I don't know anyone named Morlo. We're the only ones here," she explained, before pursing her lips together, and moving her tongue around her mouth in frustration. She wished she could have been of more help, and her ineptitude was beginning to make her understand why the commandos did not value her very much.

A nod was given when Jelena repeated her name. Even if it wasn't quite right, Lovora wasn't in much of a state to really notice. All the same, her awareness was coming back to her. The fact Jelena didn't know about the dead commando spared Lovora the memory of it for now, though soon enough she would have to face it again. In this moment, though, she just shrugged. Silence lingered briefly as she got her bearings, and finally she felt like she could give standing up a go. "Jelena? Mind giving me ah...a hand?" She lifted her arms and made a vague motion to try to indicate what she was intending. Lovora would have just gone for it, but she was conscious enough of her current state to know that she very well might not manage it on her own.

"I'll try," Jelena said, as she reached out with both of her hands to help Lovora up off the ground. She let out a grunt, as she lifted with all of her might to help her back to her feet. When it was accomplished, she allowed the commando to place her shoulder around her, so that she could hold her up in case she fell. "You're ok..." she said, reassuringly, as she began to slowly move them towards one of the chairs where Lovora could more easily sit. "At least I'm finally doing something..." she commented, revealing how out of place she truly was beginning to feel about the whole experience.

Lovora did her part as best she could, which was an admirable effort right up until she had to actually put weight on both of her legs. One was perfectly fine, but as soon as she tried to stand on the side with the wounded thigh, a shock of pain almost sent her down. She hissed through her teeth from the sensation, but thanks to Jelena she stayed upright, arm around the other woman as she was guided to a chair. " kidding? You're all over the place. They talk...about you a lot." She was getting her bearings back much quicker now, and once Jelena had her in a chair, she seemed fairly lucid. "How you had to escape your family...leave it all behind to come here. They say...they say that you gave up all kinds of things. A really nice life, just because you believed in what we're doing. That's...that's pretty special." Lovora was a true believer in their cause, that was for sure. She pulled the blanket tighter around her, the robe not doing much to stave off the cold.

"That was forever ago," Jelena said with a quick laugh, waving her hand to dismiss what Lovora said, revealing that beneath it all she still very much was a teenage girl. "But yeah ... I gave up a lot..." she said, as her eyes grew increasingly distant, while her voice trailed off into near a whisper. Her heart dwelled on the family she left behind ... not so much her father, but she thought especially of her young sister who had been left to remain with the Imperials. There was also her adopted sister, Ewwiekewwieikkie, who was too simple minded to understand the complexities of what was going on. "How ... how did you get hurt?" she asked, looking to change the subject as quickly as possible, as she began to shift uncomfortably in her own skin.

The odd thing was that Lovora and Jelena weren't that far apart in age. Lovora was a little older but not by much; still very much a young woman that in any other place could have been promised many fruitful years ahead of her. Even their backgrounds weren't incredibly different. She was going to say more, but then the subject of conversation got turned, and Lovora was far from artful enough to recognize the dodge for what it was. "Me and another commando, we were out scouting for recruits. I don't really know what tipped off the Imperials, but they came down on us hard. A whole squad of troopers. We..." her voice hitched as the memory hit. Her throat felt tight and, as the event clarified in her mind, tears welled up in her eyes. Lovora didn't sob...but a few tears fell anyway, and she tried to wipe them off, her voice a bit softer as she struggled to keep telling the tale. "We couldn't come back here, not immediately, so we ran. Tried to lose them." Another pause, bracing herself as best she could. "They almost had us. Morlo, he...they shot him. More times...I don't know. He was dead. Dead before he fell. They hit me a couple of times too, but I got away." She couldn't bring herself to look at Jelena, feeling a touch of shame at how emotional she was. Commandos were supposed to be tough as nails, after all, and in the medical robe draped in a blanket, she sure didn't feel it.

Jelena's head sank as she listened to Lovora recount the streetfight, finding it very difficult to make eye contact with any of the people who were actually out there fighting the way while she was just sitting there. "I-I-I'm sorry about your friend," she finally said, struggling at first to get the words out, as tears began to form in her own eyes. She brought a hand to dab at her eyes gently in an attempt to wipe them away. "What was his name?" she finally asked, lifting her head for the first time to reveal the redness in her eyes and the puffiness surrounding them. The least she could do is attempt to remember the name of one of the commandos who had given their life in service to the Rebellion.

"Jorra Morlo." Lovora regained her voice, though a few more tears slipped free. The recollection of those moments made another pass, but then she tucked them away. A corner of the blanket came up and she wiped at her eyes, a smile finding its way to her lips that was forced but genuine. "It's ok. He died for us...for the Republic. It's what we sign up to do." The commando managed to get her eyes lifted back to meet Jelena's, her spirit managing to shine through, even if somewhat dimmed by the conversation. "You and me, and the rest of us, we just have to make sure they don't die for nothing, you know? Keep fighting, keep the hope alive." She wiped at the tears again, which were beginning to subside. Faith in the cause had a way of making things better. "Anyway, why don't we find something else to pass the time besides making each other cry." A light joke as she glanced around, trying to get some inspiration for something to provide a much needed distraction. Soon enough she found it. "Do you play pazaak?"

"Jorra Morlo," Jelena repeated, making a mental note of the name so that she would never forget it. "Yeah. It's no fun crying around here. The tears freeze..." she complained, bitterly, even though she was over exaggerating things like most nineteen-year-olds. "We can never lose hope," she said, as she reached across and took hold of Lovoroa's hand with her own, and giving it a reassuring squeeze. "Pazaak? Is that some sort of game?" she asked, inhaling sharply through the nose in an attempt to suck the tears back in, while looking incredibly confused, as if she was speaking in a foreign tongue. This was definitely different than life in the castle back on Delaya, she thought to herself, as she offered the politest of smiles she had been trained by her grandmother to give people when she did not know what to say.

The hand was reassuring, to say the least, and she gave a small squeeze back. The question about what Pazaak was, though, had her chuckling. "Damn, Jelena. Don't let you have any fun in those ivory palaces?" Despite the drugs, the wounds, and the tears, Lovora was quickly finding her way back to herself. With the knowledge that she would be out of the tank in the near future, a set of crutches was within reach, and she took one of them, using it to make up for the fact that her wounded leg was still very much useless. The card set was on a table by theirs and she made her way to it, independent once more, and retrieved the old pazaak set. She brought it back to the table, clearly looking forward to the distraction this would provide. "It's a great game, and one you absolutely gotta know if you're gonna be slumming it with a bunch of soldiers. Don't worry...I'll teach you. I got a feeling we have a long, boring wait ahead of us anyways." With that, she settled in, dealing out the cards and explaining the rules of the game. At least it was a better way to pass the time than sitting around freezing.

Untitled 1

Copyright Era of Rebellion 2005-2018. All Rights Reserved
Terms of Use | Legal Notices | Privacy Policy | Press Release | Disclaimer