The LAATs were beginning to roar. Outside the building everything was normal, cameras all over were on the Temple that was sitting in the middle of the city burning. Clones stood outside every entrance to the temple ensuring that no-one left. Though the radio silence was also counterproductive for the Clones as no signals could be sent out of the temple even by the clones, as the Jedi had access to the Republic channels so they had to ensure that they could not even use their channels against them. No-one knew that a group of LAATs filled with Jedi survivors was preparing to leave the Jedi Temple. Escaping the city and the planet in order to allow the Jedi Order to survive, a beacon of hope in the Galaxy which had just become even darker.

---

All players, prepare to leave the Jedi Temple.

---

Kraytan continued to fight back the clones, but there were so many it was becoming increasingly difficult by the second. He may have had the force ability Force Valor aiding him, but even its effects would soon start to leave him if they didn't get out of here. He saw that Deja and a couple Padawans were on their way to one of the LAATs that was up and running. The ship was laying down support fire which only relieved his efforts slightly. "Deja you and the others are going to have to leave without me!" Kraytan shouted as he twirled his Lightsaber pike so fast it was just a blur. Many would think one would have to have robotic hands to spin it that fast, but really all it was, was years of practice.

Deja and the Padawans made it to the side of the LAAT safely. She laid the injured Master Vor'loch on the craft, her fellow guard climbed aboard and drug him safely to the back where the medical supplies were. She heard Kraytan's shout for them to leave him behind, but she couldn't. There were too few Jedi left to be leaving any behind at this rate. "Kraytan we can't leave you! The Temple Master ordered us to escort any surviving Jedi..."

"Out of the Temple! Well that way is out! We have almost succeeded in our mission, now get the others aboard and leave!" Kraytan shouted again. He continued to deflect bolts every second it seemed as they came zipping at him by the Gungan boat loads.He was begnninning to feel his energy leave him, the shrapnel in his stomach was now throbbing and the pain was present and it was worse than before.

The clones by now had realized what the Jedi were trying to do and had positioned their forces in an arc in front of the LAATs and Kraytan. They continued to fire and didn't miss a beat. There were no breaks in the onslaught of blaster bolts coming their way. The LAATs had protective armor thick enough to allow the bolts to ding harmlessly against its sides, but Kraytan didn't have that luxury. When he had almost had enough the Force refused to abandon him.

"Today is not your day my students..." a voice echoed in the force. A man clad in golden armor and silver robes leapt down from above flanked by two lesser ceremonial looking guards. It was the Temple Master, Kraytan was not sure how he was alive but he was thankful to see him nonetheless. The clones stopped for a second, confused by the newcomers and their exquisite armor. "I shall only ask you once, let us go peacefully or I will be forced to retaliate." The clones took a second to process the man's words. Several looked around and did the math, it was well in their favor they thought. The Temple Master sighed as he activated two Lightsaber pikes. His guards activated their pikes as well. The clones opened fire on him but almost all the first wave had been deflected back or in a different direction. The next second the Master split his Lightsaber pikes in half. With four lightsabers he began throwing them at clones around the room. As one returned he threw it again, and again, and again. It simple terms he was juggling the several Lightsabers, catching and throwing. "Kraytan get to the LAAT I shall deal with them."

Kraytan however watched in awe as he witnessed the might of the Temple Master in action. When he finally came out of his intial blank staring he was ready to protest against the Master. However he fell to one knee very weak. He fight had left him and he couldn't give anymore if he wanted. The Temple Master ordered his guards to help Kraytan to the LAAT. They threw his arms over their shoulders and carried him to the side and loaded him into the LAAT with the help of Deja. Once he was aboard the guards hopped into the other LAAT and got it running.

"Deja I need you to watch over Kraytan and the others, all my other students pile into the secondary LAAT!" the Temple Master said as he continued to fight as an army of one. His guards complied with his orders. Besides Deja and Kraytan there were only four other guards, which was more than enough to fly and gun a LAAT. With a powerful force push in a sweeping arc, the Temple Master send waves of debris and clones flying backwards dazed. He deactivated his Lightsabers, reconnected them, and attached them to his belt. He hopped aboard the second LAAT and grabbed a handle on the ceiling to anchor himself and to make sure he didn't;t fall out. "Let's get out of here now!"

As the rest of the Temple Guard force arrived and the LAATs were being prepped for takeoff, Erin left the sandy-haired Padawan and ran back over to the cargo crates she'd left the Dathomirian girl behind for cover. She deactivated one of the lightsabers and clipped it to her belt as she approached, and as she brought her eyes back up from her robes, she was met with the butt of a DC-15A blaster rifle and knocked to the floor. The lightsaber in her hand was sent flying... The same clone casually rested his rifle against his shoulder and took aim at Erin's head to make sure his next round was a sure kill.

Her heart throbbed once, heavily, and within the next second had force pulled the clone to the ground beside her, sending the rifle elsewhere in the cargo bay. She went to take out her second lightsaber, grabbed it, ignited it, but couldn't finish the clone! The clone held her lightsaber arm back as much as she tried to overpower him, both of them visibly and audibly struggling to hold their own. As the clone balled his free hand into a fist, Erin pulled her stray lightsaber into her free hand and swiftly cut off the armored man's arm. With the odds back on her side, she then drove the lightsaber into the clone's helmet, then pushed his lifeless corpse aside.

"Agh, my head..." The young Padawan winced, feeling her forehead where there was a red print from the rifle butt. "That's twice now! Why do they keep going for the head?" Erin murmured as she, once again, holstered one of her lightsabers. She'd use one to deflect any opportunistic clones' blasters, and would help her newest friend walk with her other arm. Turning the corner behind the crates, she crouched beside the Dathomirian Padawan and put one arm around her shoulders. "We're finally getting outta here," She said calmly, "Let's move as fast as we can, alright? To the LAATs."

Kolinn shakily pushed off the ground with her good foot and they began hobbling towards the gunship, as they neared it, she lunged forwards, throwing herself onto the gunship and pulling herself up, the doors closed as everyone was onboard and she felt the whole craft shake as it took off. She panted heavily. Whatever happened next... All she knew was that her leg was going to hurt like hell in the morning. "Where... Are we going?" she asked.

Alaric was numb to the world around him, and physically exhausted by the time he reached the LAATs with the rest of the Jedi who had escaped the clones. He was barely able to muster the strength, or the motivation, to enter the assault transport.

When he was finally clear of the ruins of the temple, he did his best to remove himself from the situation, falling back into his mental fortress. Within the confines of his own mind, he was able to shut out the pain, the fear, and the more physical sensations that accompanied the assault on the temple. The smell of sweat and blood, or burning flesh and structure. The ringing in his ears that had set in after being fired upon at close range, the rains of blaster fire only missing him by virtue of his speed, and his ability to push the barrels of the clone troopers away from himself.

Quickly, he found his personal, if temporary, sanctuary within his mind. He found himself settled against the bulkhead of the LAAT, setting his affects on the deck between his feet and rummaging through them. He pulled out his medical kit, sparse as it was, and began looking over the other passengers, spotting several that needed attention. Many would likely be dead, had they not had Jedi training.

As it was, they would need more advanced care. But he would have to patch them up as best he could, given the likelihood of clone presence at any facilities on Coruscant. He wondered which, if any, systems remained safe for them.

"Anyone who needs medical attention, please come and see me. Triage yourselves, please. I'd like to treat the more pressing injuries first, and save the scrapes and bruises for last."

~GM Post up in this hizhouse~

The doors to the bay opened and lights flooded the hanger as beams all over the outside of the hanger began lighting up the temple. Not all of them however belonged to that of the Clone Troopers but there were many eyes on the temple at this time. Many, many eyes. "This is Cassandra Hissock at the Coruscanti Nightly News Hour. We bring live images from the Jedi Temple where some kind of siege is underway-" The camera panned to the temple in flames and surrounded by LAATs, AT-TEs and Clone Troopers and their vehicles. "We have receive no official statement from the Senate however rumors are flying left right and center, however as usual we only wish to bring you all the truth and as such will only inform you why this is happening when we know for certain. What we do know however is that many Jedi have been seen getting shot at by Clones and indeed breaching the temple itself!"

The camera turned as the Cargo bay door opened. "These are live images streaming in, it appears that someone inside the temple has opened cargo doors inside the ship and... yes those are two LAATs that appear to be getting fired at from within the temple with someone barely recognizable as some form of Jedi defending them-"

Jacen put down his drink and a credchip at the same time. "Put it on the tab." With that he stood up and cocked his rifle to ensure that it was ready. DC-15a rifles were rare outside of the current military however you just had to know where to get them, and the best place was typically on the battlefields where some of the Clones had been left behind and not been taken to a medical facility. He was about to commit treason, and probably get outlawed by his people.

"Let's get out of here now!"

The stubby tendrils of the Nautolan youngling swept through the air as the boy swung his head toward the voice that had cut through the noise in the cargo bay and the LAATs roaring engine. Reflected in the large, dark eyes of the amphibious youth was the Jedi Sentinel who had led them through the secret passages and, finally, to this ship. For whatever that might be worth. Confused, frightened, and struggling somewhere between adrenaline and panic, the youth found himself standing amid a sparse few Jedi.

For the whole of his life, he had been surrounded by the guardians of the Old Republic. They had been his caretakers, his teachers, and his friends. Growing up in the temple on Coruscant, Zak had the idea that there were more Jedi than there were stars in the sky.

Before today.

"Where... Are we going?"

A Dathomiran padawan spoke, her words giving form to doubts which the young Nautolan hadn't even been aware that he'd had until he'd heard them, and found the sum of all his fears suddenly thrust back into his face.

The Jedi Temple, their home, his childhood, was in flame. Looking around the interior of the LAAT, all that the youngling could think was... there would be far fewer stars from now on.

"Beats me. Anywhere there's no Clones marching around should be just dandy. It would be nice to get some answers as to why this is happening, too." Erin told the Dathomirian girl while fixing her main Lightsaber back on her belt. She sat in the middle of the LAAT and sighed heavily, her shoulders finally dropping as she relaxed. Well, her body was relaxed - her mind however was in overdrive. Were the Jedi enemies of the Republic now? But there was a Jedi leading the attack on the Temple! Clones had been their allies since the clone wars began, so why was this all happening? ...Why did so many Jedi have to die like that, being shot in the back whilst running away? It hurt, but Erin tried to suppress the anger. Master Sabalya was gone now... That thought lingered there, as if taunting the young Padawan.

Master... Master? Master Sorni! Erin stood up upon feeling that familiar presence and gently made her way through the survivors, leaned into the LAAT's cockpit and her face immediately lit up. She was wounded, but there she was! "Master, I thought you didn't make it!" Erin sighed with relief. The one light that came out of all this is that there were survivors. It wasn't much to be happy about, but it was better than the Jedi being completely exterminated right?

Like blue lightning, the lethal bolts of energy arced through the air of the cargo bays, leaving behind the stench of burning ozone as they passed. At the center of the storm, blond hair flying wildly, the Jedi Padawan traced the patterns of the trooper's blaster bolts, altering his stance and the angle of his weapon to match. The result was a scattering of the blaster bolts, some back towards their origin, others toward empty spaces of the cargo bay, but always out away from the boy at the center, a swirling, circling maelstrom with Jerek at its eye.

Yet unlike the eye of a storm, Jerek was not calm.

The teenager seethed in anger, his hatred of the Clone Troopers' rebellion at its core. It fueled him, giving his tired arms energy to move, granting his sore lungs a second wind, displacing the pain and confusion that threatened to invade his head once more. The power driving Jerek was unlike he had ever experienced among the Jedi.

As the battle continued, the padawan found himself compelled to keep fighting, pushed onward even as he realized his body was failing him. A misstep here, a poor parry there, ducking at the last moment to avoid the headshot that should have been deflected by his blade. Like an old man, Jerek felt his reflexes slowing, exposing him on all sides. His anger grew, now equally directed as his own faults, suppressing his last hope for surviving this mess.

Then hope sprang anew.

Jerek felt a pair of shoulder blades press against his own, and the bolts shot toward his back deflected away by the newcomer. He didn't turn to look, but his mind felt a familiar presence with him. A voice, similar to his own, seemed to call out weakly, "I've got you, Jer." The boy grinned to himself, safe in the knowledge of his new supporter's identity. With his field of focus now concentrated, Jerek moved with a burst of renewed energy. The troopers around him began to fall once more, their deadly bolts flying less and less. A sense of elation grew within Jerek, he might yet survive this day.

As if to answer that query, a swath of troopers fell before the blade of a masked Jedi, the heavy robes concealing the knight's figure. The strange knight knelt before Vor'loch, lying forgotten upon the bay floor. Looking up, the knight called out her, the voice was clearly a woman, colleague for help. Krayton arrived promptly upon being summoned, drawing fire as troopers moved with their target. These Jedi were obviously more important targets than a pair of kids.

Jerek turned to the other padawan, not at all expecting what he saw before him. A girl, not a boy; brunette not a blond; her frame thin instead of larger. The boy's heart sank as disappointment crept in to displace the joy that had sustained him. Nevertheless, he bowed to the padawan and thanked her for the assistance.

He turned back just in time to hear Krayton, the taller of the two masked Jedi, chide him, "Padawan! Control your feelings and focus! I need you to help me protect your master and my fellow guard here! Now come on you two move!" Anger welled up inside him, and he opened his mouth to speak. Before the boy could do so, the Jedi Guards moved off, carrying Vor'loch between them, leaving the padawans to protect their flank. Grudgingly, Jerek followed and obeyed.

Once the group reached the LAAT, Jerek took a seat, watching with a keen eye as his master's barely-living body was carefully loaded onto the vehicle. He fingered the cool metal of his lightsaber, still in his hand, as the boy glared at Krayton as the masked Jedi bellowed orders for takeoff. He didn't shift his gaze as the craft rose, his eyes watching Krayton and the Temple Guards, silently witnessing as the life slipped from his master's body.

Silent, but not calm.

Deja looked at the young one who offered medical assistance, "please help Kraytan, he has a large piece of shrapnel in his lower torso. Medical supplies can be found in the back of the ship." She said as she headed to the cockpit. There were a few others in there, Master Sorni was one of them. excuse me everyone, but its time to buckle up we are moving out!" Deja said as she climbed upward and took a seat at the controls. She began moving the LAAT out of the hangar, she noticed more clones rushing into the bay and she didn't waster any time and spraying them with fire. The Temple Master's ship did the same thing before spinning and flying out of the repair bay. Deja followed his lead.

As the two dropships left the repair bay AT-TE fired their main cannons to try and shoot them down. Dozens of missiles went spiraling into the air, but to no avail because they immeditately escaped into the surrounding skyscrapers. Of course this wouldn't stop the clones from pursing them. Two ARC 170 squads came down from orbit and honed in on the LAATs as they zigzagged through the buildings. "Temple Master where exactly are we going? Or do we have no plan?" Deja radioed as she jerked the flight stick all around to avoid being hit. She was doing a good job, but the dropship still rattled as the incoming fire exploded outside around it.

"Yes and no, I have an idea though..." Her master's LAAT took a huge nose dive down into a large hole, she followed. The LAAT's computer system said they were heading descending Coruscant's lower levels. She avoid upcoming ships left and right until she was force to come to pull up from her nose dive at level 1313 and fly straight. Level 1313 was a bad place for Jedi or just the Republic in general, however at this point it didn't matter. She followed her Master's ship through the darkness of the level as she avoided buildings and other ships.

-Vor'loch-

Vor'lochs eyes opened slightly and he shook his eyes slightly "Jacen..."

-Jacen-

Jacen and his crew were ready for this. The LAATs were on the run and no-one else could assist them, no-one else really wanted to assist them as it was a dangerous thing for them to do and it was likely that they wouldn't get off planet however it was worth a try. A CR25 troop transport lowered down through the tunnel down to the lower levels of Coruscant and swooped down on front of the two LAATs. Two cargo doors opened on the side of the vessel and two rocket launchers took out the ARC-170 starfighters following the Two LAATs. However the leading LAAT took a shot and swept down and crashed into the undercity taking the temple guards with them into the city. The other LAAT however made it succesfully into the bay and the bay closed. Jacen pulled up on the yoke and kicked the drives into full pointing the ship directly up into orbit. In the bay two armed men walked over to the LAAT. "Don't worry, Corporal Orson Sector Rangers. Well, ex-ranger. We're here to help." The entire ship ship shook as it took a hit. "Well... whatever is going on we aren't out of it yet. I suggest you all hold on and look to the Force for Answers..."

When the Noghri stirred, Jerek rushed to his side. The padawan glanced over his master's body, eyeing all the burns, every hole cauterized by the searing energy of a blaster. As he looked on, the boy felt as broken as his master looked. Fear creeped in through his mouth, his nose, his very pores, the fear that Vor'loch could not recover from his wounds. Fear of what would become of him if Vor'loch died, if Jerek was left alone.

Yes, even in among the last surviving group of Jedi, Jerek felt alone.

The boy looked on in wonder as Vor'loch opened his eyes. It was just a crack, a sliver of life, but Jerek felt his heart jump in elation. His master might live! That thought dispelled the padawan's own pain, his own wounds, the gnawing of his empty stomach. Joy flooded through his being, fighting and overcoming the fear that had threatened to rule the boy's heart. "Master!" Jerek fought the urge to wrap his arms around the injured Noghri, placing them instead on his master's hand, gently. "Master, can you hear me?"

Vor'loch's eyes shifted, and his voice came low and raspy. "Jacen."

"No, Master, it's me," the boy insisted, "It's Jerek." The Noghri was silent, seemingly immune to the padawan's words. Jerek squeezed his master's hand firmly, a bit more rough than he intended, repeating his plea. "Vor'loch, it's Jerek."

Why did Vor'loch not hear him? Why did he not respond? Didn't he want to live? Didn't he want to keep teaching Jerek? The thoughts plagued the boy as his pleas became soft cries, his body gently rocking back and forth next to the still form of his master.

"...it's Jerek, Master, it's Jerek..."

The young Nautolan braced himself against the side of the LAAT as the shuttle lifted off from the deck, an involuntary sense of dread coursing through him as the craft went airborne. The amphibian youngling did well for himself in space, which was rather like orienting oneself in deep water – that being that there was little need for concepts such as up or down, left or right – and he did very well for himself in terrestrial environments where such cardinal points were more pertinent. But he didn’t like atmospheric flight. Something about it just seemed unnatural. He liked the feel of either solid ground or water beneath his feet. The feeling of dread escalated as the ride became a wild jaunt in between the layers of the city that defined the planet. Because Coruscant was a single city, built neighborhood upon neighborhood until it not only stretched across the whole of the planet, but no one knew what the surface of Coruscant looked like anymore. Or even where the surface of the planet even was.

Through the sniper points in the side of the doors, the boy glimpsed buildings and walkways, each a blur as the LAAT weaved through traffic and buildings in the plunge through the cityscape. Zak had spent his life on Coruscant, and this was still likely the most he had seen of the planet. The only sight he recognized was the Jedi Temple.

Now a pillar of flame and smoke on the horizon.

A shadow passed through the shuttle, darkness encompassing the LAAT as it was swallowed up inside of something. The boy held fast to the side of the shuttle as he felt their craft and whatever it was now inside of suddenly take off, as though aiming to breach orbit. Part of him was glad for that, eager to get out into the null gravity of space and out of the uncomfortable chaos of atmospheric flight. And part of him was nervous. Their shuttle had been swallowed up by something.

And he could sense someone now approaching. Someones now approaching.

The doors to the LAAT swung open, two men reflected in the large, dark eyes of the Nautolan as he gazed out anxiously at the sight of armed strangers approaching the Jedi.

"Don't worry, Corporal Orson, Sector Rangers,” the man offered in explanation, which wasn’t much of an explanation at all. To remedy that, the man added, “Well, ex-ranger. We're here to help."

“Sector rangers?” the youngling echoed, sliding to the door of the craft to now peer out at both the strangers and the strange craft that had swallowed their LAAT whole. He knew of the sector rangers, of course. Republic law enforcement, with a mandate that stretched to and beyond the borders of a sector, but he had never met one. ”Cool,” Zak affirmed, breathing a sigh of relief at the thought of someone coming to help.

Deja watched in horror as the other LAAT was shot down. She watched as dozens of ARC fighters and LAAT's swarmed the crash site taking a large portion of their tail. The Temple Master was an excellent pilot, he would never have been hit so easily without him giving his pursuers a free shot. Perhaps that was the reason why he had taken the other transport, so he could distract the clones as much as possible. "Deja... Kraytan and you are now the protectors of the Order... May the Force be with you... Always...." a voice echoed through the Force to Deja. She nodded off into the distance as their ship landed in the hanger of another ship. A man introduced himself as a Sector Ranger, Corporal Orson. She bowed as the man said he was here to help.

"Regardless if we are out of here or not yet, I am glad and find comfort in the fact not everyone is out to kill us. Is there anything we can do to help Corporal Orson?" Deja asked volunteering her services to the man who was rescuing their skins.

Kolinn lay on the floor of the transport, her leg bone in multiple pieces and now slightly annoyed that she had been ignored, even though there was now an alarming amount of blood pooling around her. Her head steadily falling, and raising again as she fought off the encroaching unconsciousness. "Wow..." she said, groggily "That's... A lot..." her head nodded lower. She quickly realized that she was slowly dying of blood loss. "I think... I might... Need..." Her head drooped lower.

Alaric was surprised at the extent of the survivors injuries. The assault on the temple had truly been a surprise, to have given the jedi no sort of foreboding sense in the Force. Not for the first time, the young feeorin had to admire the effectiveness of the clone training. And fear the detachment they had when it came to their orders.

He quickly assessed the jedi who volunteered themselves, or were volunteered by others, and quickly determined that they were severely underequipped for the severity of their injuries. He addressed Kraytan as efficiently as he could, removing any sense of familiarity from his mind as he looked over the injuries of his remaining allies. His extended family. Alaric needed to be cold, clinical. Objective.

Reaching into his own medical kit, he drew out a short, thick, solid rubber cylinder and stuck it between the man's teeth.

"I'm sorry, but this will probably hurt. I'm going to have to pull this shrapnel out, open the wound, and make sure that it didn't sever any arteries or major blood vessels. Bite down on this if you need to, and try to remain calm. If your pulse gets too fast, you could make it worse."

Not waiting for a response, he pulled a field cauterizer from his pack and held it between his teeth, before wiping his hands down with a sterilizing packet. Tossing the used packet aside, he pushed Kraytan back, opened his tunic to get better access to the wound, and got to work, spreading the edges of the wound apart until he could see the shrapnel that had lodged into his body.

Damn... He's very lucky... Alaric thought, concealing a look of shock by furrowing his brow and bending his head closer to the wound. A few more centimeters, and he may have had his intestines cut, which would have led to sepsis. The resulting infection would have been difficult to treat. On the positive side, it seemed that there were only minor blood vessels affected by the injury. The bleeding was bad, but he could fix it.

Getting a firm grip on the foreign object, Alaric began to slowly, steadily pull, trying to exactly duplicate the entry path so as not to do any further damage. It probably felt like hours to Kraytan, if he were not in a meditative state. As it was, the process took about a minute. Once the shrapnel fell free of the wound, he dropped it on the deck and went to work with the cauterizer, running the low-frequency laser beam over the inner surfaces of the wound quickly.

The risk of bleeding out addressed, Alaric pressed the edges of the wound together, pressed gauze against it, and taped it in place, before wrapping an elastic bandage around his torso quickly.

It wasn't the most difficult operation he'd ever had to perform, but only in terms of actual procedure. The situation was almost beyond his comprehension.

"Keep pressure on it. We'll have to see about getting you a blood transfusion later. For now, I'm going to give you a stimpak. Apply it if you feel like you're going to fall asleep. Jab it into your thigh, right in the thickest spot you can."

Standing and going to retrieve the medical supplies stored at the back of the LAAT, Alaric took a quick assessment of the wounded. His next patient stood out, lying in a pool of blood. He grabbed the supplies he needed, then hurried to her side, kneeling in her blood as he checked her for injuries.

Oh, I hate open fractures... He thought, seeing the bone protruding from her skin and sterilizing his hands again before touching up the bleeding with the cauterizer. Oddly enough, it looked as though an attemptd had already been made to do the same, although whatever tool had been used had been applied far too quickly and unsteadily. It looked like someone had pressed a piece of heated metal against the wound, but it hadn't been quite hot enough to do everything it needed to.

"Stay focused. Use whatever you need to stay awake." He barked, slapping the girls cheek a few times before lifting her eyelids with his thumb and checking her pupils. She had clear signs of a brain injury or a concussion, which made her consciousness an even greater issue.

He wrapped her leg in more gauze, making a note to address the fractures later, then slipped an air cast over the limb and popped the canister attached, which quickly inflated the sleeve to keep the bones in place. After the cast was set, he hit her with a stimpak and looked over her head for further injuries, quickly spotting a knot in the back of her head. Found the culprit for her head injury...

"You need to stay awake. I'll be back to check on you in a minute." Alaric said, putting a hand on her shoulder and standing, watching the second LAAT go down, moments before their own craft was swallowed in the bay of a larger craft.

As a pair of armored men, who were introduced as Sector Rangers, approached the LAAT, Alaric moved towards them, not entirely trusting, but hoping to receive some assistance with the injured.

"Corporal, are there any medics aboard this craft? We need a few more sets of trained eyes on our injured."

The ship shook slightly as laser bolts fired out past the ship. Jacen was at the pilot seat and turned around to the astromech. "Plot us for a course up out around orbit, mix us in with the traffic and make us a harder target to hit. I trust you R9." He walked back out of the room and picked up his Westar-M5 carbine rifle and held it at the ready as the bulkhead door closed and the ship continued to shake from side to side as it was still harassed by the tailing ARC-170 starfighters. He moved his way into the bay where the battered and bruised LAAT was sitting in its bay to remain safe and secure. He moved up, his armor was black with blue emblems on each of his shoulder pads.

He moved up and waved the Corporal away. "Go get the MD droid and bring it here to help out the Jedi." He turned back around to everyone else. "We should be breaking into orbit in a couple of minutes and then making the jump into hyperspace." He looked at the Jedi before singling out the one who looked most like a Master out of all off them.

"Anywhere in particular you feel like going?"

"Hey, he'll be alright. They'll take care of him..." Erin said with a hushed tone, placing a hand on the sandy-haired Padawan's back. As calm as she seemed on the outside, she was deeply saddened to watch this. A Padawan and their Master were partners, like family, or something you couldn't exactly put into words. In a sense, Erin thought she was quite lucky to have not been with Master Sabalya when he fell - she wouldn't be able to leave his side, and would more than likely be dead right now. She didn't have to watch him die. 'Jerek' as he named himself had to watch as his Master edged closer towards death, ...it must be horrible... Erin simply couldn't imagine what it was like. So she did the only thing she thought would help.

She moved around to the other side of the Noghri and held his other hand firmly, glancing up at the fellow Padawan reassuringly, "Jerek, just keep hoping."

"Corporal, are there any medics aboard this craft? We need a few more sets of trained eyes on our injured."

As the Feeorin padawan, who had emerged as what seemed the foremost medical authority among them, directed his question at the corporal the voice of another man answered. "Go get the MD droid and bring it here to help out the Jedi," the newcomer directed, identifying himself without words as someone in charge. Just as the Feeorin's blood-stained appearance shattered many of Zak's illusions of the Jedi as invincible champions, it was likewise jarring to the young boy to go from outright massacre to... adults talking. Granted, in a contest between the two options, Zak would have opted for the latter, it was still strange to now be standing witness to casual conversation when, not minutes before, they had been in the fight of their lives.

Looking back at the LAAT, the young Nautolan felt a twinge of guilt for the fact that he wasn't doing more... except, Zak really didn't know what to do. Sor-Jan was still there, passing out bandages, but that wasn't really helping anything. Bandages only helped if it was like a not-bad cut. These Jedi had broken bones, blaster wounds, and problems that the youngling was quick to shut out from his mind.

They were Jedi. They were the guardians of peace. Bad things like this... weren't supposed to happen to people like them.

So, instead of going back inside of the LAAT, the young amphibian took a step outside. Cautiously, the child's large, black eyes swept between the Sector Ranger and the Jedi. No one was telling him that he wasn't supposed to be on the transport. Another step. Then a second, tip-toeing further and further away from the LAAT. Again, no one told him to come back.

The first rule of Clan Womprat: The lack of express disapproval is implicit approval.

Zak could, if he had wanted to, asked a padawan or a knight if he could go exploring, but then someone would have the option of telling him no. In contrast, the lack of a stated no was the absence of evidence that he couldn't go exploring. Plus, the padawans and knights had better things to do right now. Like talk with the Sector Rangers. So by not asking permission, Zak was actually just saving them time so that they could do... whatever adults did. Wait, what did adults do? Talk. That.

...and, besides, the Thisspiasian clan master was dead, so Zak didn't know who was responsible for him now.

Bare, webbed feet padding over the military deck plating, as the boy did a jaunt around the launch bay where the LAAT was now secured. His gait was staggered as his head turned every which way, so that it seemed he paid scant attention to what was in front of him or where he was going. Zak had lived at the Jedi Temple since he was three years old. Most youngling clans got off Coruscant for field trips, but the Clone Wars had kept the boy planetbound for the danger posed by the Separatist Rebellion. There had been one time, a trip to Deneba, before the war had begun but... he'd been six years old then. He barely remembered any of it, and hadn't been able to appreciate traveling by starcruiser because they'd been told to meditate on this, or reflect on that, or review their history notes on the Jedi Con... Convo... something-or-other. Conversion? No, that wasn't the right word...

...the big Jedi meeting-thing on Deneba, whatever that was supposed to be called, when they'd regrouped there during the Krath Holy War upteenth-bajillion generations ago.

A door opened nearby, the sound attracting the youngling's fickle attention, as a medical droid entered the bay. Probably the one the Sector Ranger had mentioned, but that wasn't what really had Zak's focus at the moment. Instead, he was more interested in the open door which led to somewhere other than this launch bay.

-Timeskip of 72 Hours-

Most the Jedi were awake by now, Vor'loch still resided in a Bacta Tank however he was conscious and talking to people when they came to speak to him, and he was relaying his combat expertise whenever necessary. Thought right now the Jedi Knights sat in the hold which held the LAAT before they had disposed of it in a circle with Jacen being the only non-Jedi among them as the other Sector Rangers left and went underground or moved on in a bid to see if they could find more Jedi elsewhere and to try and find what was going on in relation to the rest of the galaxy. He sat with his rifle between his legs leaning on it slightly as he looked at the Jedi before him. "Well, it seems like the war for all extensive purposes is over. Anakin Skywalker was sighted arriving at Mustafar where the Separatist leaders were being held and then the droids shut down so we can safely say that the war is over. The only thing is that we can't find anymore Jedi. I'm willing to stick around and we will be able to keep using this ship however we should ditch it whenever we can. The question is, where do we go from here? You guys have the Force what does it say?"