Beneath the Temple: Tech Bays and Storage

"Bal-ee-tar!"

The Neimodian's shriek from up the stairs had been coming with less and less frequency over the past five hours. Thank the Force for small favors. Levi clamped his hand down on the trooper's leg wound, squeezing the bandage and shielding the wound with his own body. A heavy blast impacted against the temple's shields with the force of a small earthquake. The stone walls rattled and shook, dirt streamed down onto the cots below, adding another layer of brown dust to the dozen medica5l droids assisting him outside the med-bay.

"When are they going to blow that gun up? I've got three patients with bacterial infections already! Kay-Tee!"

A blue and red astromech droid wheeled itself up to Levi, whistling in a shrill voice in his presence while Levi began working his scalpel on the leg wound, removing steel shrapnel embedded just above the human's knee.

"Send another message to the command center. Tell them to bomb the hells out of that cannon, wherever it is! Yes, I know I- Don't argue with me on this Kay! I don't want to know how many people I've got down here, and every time we get a dirt shower in a dank, dark, humid basement, a standard stitch-job turns into an infection, which eats up bio-meds, which pulls more troops out of- Did you send it yet? Good! I'm done here. Stitch him up for me and give him a shot of pain-killers, then throw him back into the meatgrinder in three hours."

"Levi! I need a hand on seven!"

Never ends. Never ever ends. Goddess give me strength- and failing that, a cold vodka.

Arianna Gray, Levi's companion since med-school, was standing over a nine foot long shag rug. A shag rug that was growling. And shifting.

"Oh hells no! You're the xenobiologist, Arianna. Drug him up and then take care of him-"

"Just hold her right arm down. That's all I need. The main artery was nicked. I just need to clamp it, but she's being-"

"A wookiee?"

"-difficult. Now, your hands on hers please. Unless you'd like to cut the arm off instead."

"Fine I got her."

"Going in three. Two. One!"

There were moments in combat zones where Levi found himself skipping through time and space. On one level, he knew his hands and brain were moving in a calm, methodical manner, his brain running through all the motions he'd practiced in med school as he sewed up lacerations, applied bio-degradable bacta patches to torn muscles before sewing the skin back up, resetting broken bones and, as a last resort, removing limbs. He woke up long enough to remember those moments. Three legs were lying in a cooler at the back of the storage room, on ice until the day came- if it came- when they could be reattached in a proper bacta tank. The Mandos could just as easily break through the shields, sweep through the temple, line Levi against a wall and blow his brains out all over the millenia old bricks.

The sounds and smells added to Levi's dazed, mechanical dream. Blood, urine and waste from a dozen species was pooling on the floors faster than the droids could sanitize them, and the beeping of portable monitors just drew him deeper into his brain. It took a significant disturbance to pull him out of his trance-

"Bal-ee-tar!"

"I swear to the goddess if Dav doesn't kill that gunner, then I will! Try me! Kriffing try me! I will find that man, and I will slice open his stomach, choke him with his own small intestines, than hang him from his large intestines over the gun barrel! Kay-Tee, send another-"

"Get down!"

Another impact. Another dirt shower. Then a second impact, and a third- fourth. The shaking quickly turned into a magnitude 4.0 quake for a few seconds. A crashing noise as some of the bricks in the far side of the room gave way, burying a Mon-Calamari in the 'X' zone of the Triage section. Two of the still-standing guards/temporary orderlies rushed back there, pulling the ancient bricks off of the bedridden alien. Pained shouts came from one of the other dying patients. He'd forgotten to give the man his morphine dose. The only thing worse than riding the short train to oblivion was doing so while completely aware your number was being called- and being in pain the entire time.

"Ari. Kay. Get another round of morphine in the back."

"Levi. There is no more morphine."

"Then go upstairs to the med bay and get some!" He snapped.

Arianna flinched for half a second, then stared back at the doctor. "Levi. There is no more morphine. Here. In the temple complex. We've burned through it all."

"What? When did that happen? Never mind. Irrelevant. What have we got to work with around here in terms of flora?"

"There's brownleaf. Local intoxicant, grows like a weed around here. I, uh, collected some before the siege hit. There'll be more in the garden too. But it's ingested through smoke."

"Unacceptable, especially in this humidity. Could we distill it into some kind of pill form?"

"Not easily, and not without a pharmaceutical lab. We'd be better off brewing it into tea and serving it. It'll lose forty-percent of its-"

"Kay-Tee! Put a kettle on up in the mess hall. Make sure nobody touches it, especially active duty infantry. Also, raid the food pantry for bread while you're up there. Anything with mold. If we've run out of morphine, we'll need to plan for other things too."

The tea will take a good forty minutes to brew- enough to give everyone back there some. And even then it won't be enough. Not enough. I could take care of all of them. I'm ordained with the goddess. A few words, a slip of the scalpel, and bang- no more worries for them. It'd be easier. Less of a drain on resources. I should, shouldn't I?

"Ari," Levi said quietly. "Take five minutes and go up to my room. Door code is 1-9-4-5-2. Under my bed is a wheeled case. It's black with a padlock on it. Wheel it back down here very carefully."

Arianna raised an eyebrow. "What will I find in the case, Levi?"

Correllian Number 3 vodka, unusually high in antioxidants and with recorded anti-bacterial properties.

Mon-Cal Gold Star rum, mixed with barbituates in the brewing process that will leave any human high as a kite after two shots.

Kessel Moons-shine, spice laced with opiates- less than a teaspoon per serving will do the trick unless it's watered down.

Hapan Jewel martini-mixer, lighter on alcohol contents and surprisingly high in vitamins.

Four bottles of Thyferran Red Wine. Illicitly brewed with bacta.

Bakuran Bronze Whiskey. Nothing special about that one. Just whiskey. But it'll do for something. Along with the five other bottles in there I bought just because they looked good.

"Emergency medical supplies. Collected over the past nine weeks."

"Bal-ee-tar!"

"Goddess-krffing-damnit!"

Saris' jaw tightened when he was still three corridors away. Already he could smell the stench of death and disease, of infection and decay as it wafted through the temple, growing stronger the closer he got to the triage center. It reminded him of how his own village had smelled the morning after he had truly become an orphan, and it set him on edge, his muscles tensed like a coiled viish serpent. He would much rather be outside the temple, planting blackened shaft after blackened shaft in the necks of the invading warriors. The bow on his back, he had refused to remain unarmed, was more than capable of piercing many types of armor, but he still preferred the surety of weak points. That was not to be, however, as the masters had ordered him to remain inside, on penalty of expulsion should he disobey. He had been sorely tempted, but a cooler head had won out in the end, and now he was carrying out their instruction to find the triage center and aid in any way he could. It was a foolish decision, his talents would be far better utilized on the hunt, but he had no choice in the matter.

He managed to reach the triage center with only a minimum of curses, uttered under his breath, as the temple continued to shake, and the sakiyan's nearly two-meter grey-blue frame had to stoop under the top of the door to avoid colliding with it. He inhaled sharply as he stepped inside, instantly noticing the lack of sufficient escape routes. He really hated basements. They were far too enclosed and lacked proper exits. In fact, nearly everything about this temple screamed "death trap" to him, another reason he was so on-edge. If anyone on his homeworld had used a building like this to house their clan, they would be dead within the month. It grated on him every moment he spent here, and he had only just begun to relax when the mandalorian warriors had attacked, driving him right back to the brink.

The normally blackened blades of the zabrak's lightsaber flared silver in his vision, the plasma registering hotter than anything else in the room in spite of its lack of ambient heat, and he found himself agreeing with the woman's intent. Should have let her do it. Kinder that way. He was no stranger to death, and indeed had killed as a kindness more than once before, so he could not understand the willingness of the jedi to waste valuable resources on a lost cause, especially when that waste could mean the death of another later on. True, he was studying to become a jedi, but many of their ways still mystified him.

He stopped next to the man whose life had just been spared, the scent of infection hanging heavy around him, and held his peace until the doctor had finished speaking. The smell of spice in the air nearly overpowered that of infection and death, so he was not surprised to see the Balosar student, Chiala, standing next to the unfamiliar zabrak. She always smelled of spice, though never this intensely before. When the contents of both the bag and the box had been revealed and the doctor finished speaking, Saris took the moment to intrude. "Excuse me. I was sent to aid however I can. I know nothing of healing wounds, but I am strong and no stranger to blood. Where can you use me?" The words tasted like oil on his tongue. He should be out there helping defend the temple, but instead he was trapped in a basement and forced to care for the weak and the wounded.

*The expression on the tattooed face of the Iridonian remained grim and stern, but the left corner of her mouth twitched, just a bit, as the human retained impossible control and a presence of authority in the bay, not with the arrogance of once who felt he needed to be in charge, but out of a sense of obligation and responsibility.   Her brow had lifted as he chastised her, and the other soon followed when she saw the case of costly liquor wheeled in front of them.*

"Well... we all have our vices."

*She inclined her head in acknowledgment just as another young student, one of similar age to Chiala, arrived reeking of resentment and reluctance.  The doctor certainly had his hands full.   As the newest arrival was pulled away, Lita passed the Balosar a silent look that conveyed she was dismissed, her arms folded crossly against her chest.   Whether or not the student returned to where she was supposed to be was not of Lita's concern.  Her eyes lifted at the sound of her name called from several beds away.*

"Lita! Who is this?"

*She slowly unfolded her arms and made her way to the doctor so that she did not have to raise her voice as she growled through a flash of exposed teeth.*

"You had best let him answer for himself, Doctor.  Do not mistake me for a Jedi, of this order or any other.  I do not know the names of each student here."

*All in all, Lita decided she quite liked this human who could hold his own under these nightmarish conditions.  Honor and duty.  Yes, she decided she liked him quite a bit.   Not that anyone here would ever be able to discern that from her outward appearance.

With her own sense of obligation fulfilled, she turned without another word and abandoned both the students and the doctor himself, to return to the ground fighting out in the jungles of Yavin IV as the shield continued to be pummeled by the bombardment.  She climbed up the stairs as dust from the mortar above rained down upon her orat.*

The sakiyan had to suppress a snarl when Lita bared her teeth, his own predatory instincts urging him to return the challenge. He managed to stave off the reflex with only a subtle twitch of his lips, something that would have been impossible for him to do even just a year ago. He had come to the jedi raw and unrefined, and slowly but surely they had begun to smooth away his jagged edges. By the time he'd been re-assigned to Yavin IV, he was even capable of participating in social events, though often times he would retreat to an unoccupied corner and simply observe. It was a small sliver of his former life that made him feel more at home, a reminder of the many days he had spent observing the packs of wild rass, picking out the old and weak, the strong and experienced, the leaders and the followers. Only once you understood your prey could you make a clean and efficient kill. He had never planned to kill anyone at the social gatherings he had been forced to attend, of course, but the reminder of home did help take him off-edge.

Here and now, however, was a very different story. The zabrak's predatory display only served to wind him even tighter, though he did have to admit a certain amount of respect for the woman. All of the jedi he had met thus far were definitely capable of violence, but none had displayed the instinct and savagery that would have been necessary to survive in the wilds of his homeworld. It was refreshing to finally meet someone whose bearing and demeanor were reminiscent of the beings he had grown up with.

He swept his eyes over the ceiling as she spoke to the doctor, only giving half an ear to the conversation between the two. Not a jedi? He was already walking a razor's edge, and that realization pushed his balance to the brink. Considering the current state of affairs in and around the temple, the only things that held him back from attacking the woman outright were the fact that she had made it this far into the temple without raising alarm, and she had openly identified herself as a non-jedi with no attempt to hide. Not a jedi, but still a friend.

It was as she left that his ear caught the sound of shifting rock, stone rubbing against stone, and he spun on instinct, gathering energy in the palm of his right hand and hurling it without thought. The wave of energy surged from his hand and struck a rock the size of a human torso as it dropped free of the ceiling, shattering it instantly from the force of the pent-up frustration that fueled the outburst. Small stones rained down on those beneath the blast, some as big as a human fist, and Saris grit his teeth as he realized his mistake. He turned back to the doctor. "My name is Saris, and it was a mistake to send me here."

He had just proven that he was more of a danger than a help to the people lining the floor of the triage center, and the enclosed underground space and stench of death would only continue to heighten his agitation. "I'm leaving, before I cause any more damage." Then he turned to follow the Zabrak out of the triage center. If the masters still thought it had been a good idea to send him here after they heard what happened, then he would welcome the expulsion that was sure to come.

"Want has nothing to do with it, doctor." He all but spat the words at the man who had dared to try and command him, a man that had likely never even held a spear, much less earned the right to command. It had been hard enough submitting to the jedi, even those that were warriors far superior to himself, and now this small pale human with no authority of his own dared to try and command him? Calm yourself. There is not enough rage in the universe to set right the wrongs of even one man, much less the wrongs created while trying to do so. The words rang through his mind as clearly as the day his pride-father had spoken them. He hadn't understood at the time, but now, after destroying an entire pride in revenge, he knew the full extent of what his pride-father had meant. Anger could not right wrongs, it could only compound them. It took the original grievance and increased it a thousandfold. How many children did I leave orphaned in my quest for vengeance? How many families did my anger lead me to destroy? No, this small healer was not worth the pain that anger would bring.

With a titanic effort, the sakiyan schooled himself to calm, focusing on his heartbeat as it began to slow and his mind began to empty, leaving his thoughts and worries floating around the edge of his island of serenity. They were worries for another time, another man. They no longer belonged to him. He turned his eyes on the woman as she approached, his stoic gaze a stark contrast from the barely contained frustration it had held a moment ago. "His responsibility is for the wounded, and my wounds have already been healed. He shouldn't waste time trying to deal with me that could be spent saving lives." Force, I sound like one of the freaking masters. The thought seemed like it belonged to someone else, someone younger and more impulsive, but that was often how things seemed in the void. Personality and preferences became less prominent as instinct and common sense and logic grew more acute. Your own desires become far less important when they begin to seem like the desires of others, and all that remains is that which is most efficient.

"I'll stay until the engineers arrive, but after that I have no more purpose h.." The temple shook under the impact of another shell, small bits of debris raining from the ceiling, and Saris' control shattered into a million pieces, the frustration and tension that had been skirting the edge of the void crashing back in on him ten times stronger than before. He gasped as his heartbeat began to race again and his muscles tensed like coiled springs waiting to be released, dropping to his hands and knees on the floor. Before, there had been a way out, he had still had the void to fall back on if things became too much to handle, but now, in the wake of its collapse, he had nowhere else to turn, no way to remove himself from his frustration and anger, and that only served to multiply it. The masters were FOOLS to send me here! They think some puny HUMAN can control me? Keep me from hurting EVERYONE AROUND ME!?! I WARNED them!! Why couldn't they just LISTEN!?

He felt a hand on his shoulder, probably an attempt at comforting him or getting his attention to figure out what happened, but all the contact did was provide a direction to channel his tension and frustration. Coiled muscles erupted into motion as he stood and turned to face the female doctor (Arianna), and his right hand clamped around her throat and drove her back against the wall, leaving just enough room for her to breath. "I TOLD them this would happen! WHY COULDN'T THEY LISTEN!" He roared, the feeling of helplessness at being trapped inside a collapsing cave only driving him further over the edge.