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"You can't win a war. Someone else just loses."
Alexandra Christo, To Kill A Kingdom
THERE was nothing as heavy as the silence after a war. The aftertaste of violence hung over the battlefield. When the dust settled and they emerged victorious, there was only one thing left to do for Medea Centauri and her troopers. "Count the dead, Captain. And tend to the wounded." The weight of losses was heavier on her heart than anticipated. "The battle's won, but not the war."
Captain Knox nodded. He had lost good men in this battle. Men that he had trained since they had joined up the cause. But Medea was right. There was always another battle tomorrow, and they must be ready. He took his leave, abandoning Medea to her thoughts again. The planet of Narvos had been under siege. The Narvosi people had been forced to flee their home planet and those who couldn't were enslaved by the Separatist leader Maw and his droid army. They finally had Maw captured but it had taken a week-long assault on the Separatist fortress and they were short of many resources. The Narvosi people had been freed from bondage but they still needed help to rebuild. Medea closed her eyes and felt the sun shine on her face. As it set, she wished it would take this awful war with it.
"General." Medea looked over her shoulder at Captain Knox. "It's General Kenobi." Medea followed Knox inside the makeshift base they had set up. Her troopers were sitting inside, cleaning their weapons without a sound. It felt infinitely wrong to disturb the quietness in the wake of the battle. It was a solemn affair, a habit she had picked up from her fellow soldiers. The silence was for the fallen. The silence was to honor the brothers lost in the fight, the ones who sacrificed everything. The silence also allowed the mind to rest and contemplate.
Medea met Obi-Wan Kenobi's eyes in the hologram and he greeted her with the smallest of smiles. "Maw is on his way to the prison," she told him.
"I heard," Obi-Wan replied. "Good job with the incursion and the capture."
"It won't be very useful unless the Narvosi get food and medical supplies," Medea shook her head and crossed her arms behind her back.
"Don't worry," Obi-Wan assured her. "General Fortes is already on his way with supplies." Medea nodded, and Obi-Wan observed her. Medea Centauri looked tired. This was odd because Medea rarely ever looked tired. With her hair red like a bleeding sunset and her eyes a home to forests of green, Medea Centauri almost always looked lively. But today something weighed on her. Obi-Wan sensed it. "Is something troubling you?"
Medea mulled over her thoughts. She didn't remember her parents, but she knew she had been born on Premiscara, the planet of the seven seas. In her vast readings about the history and culture of the planet, Medea had come to know of a phrase Premiscaran said when one of their own died. Hail and Farewell. She said it now, to herself, quietly. She gazed back at Obi-Wan, then, awaiting her answer still. The troopers in the tent slowly moved out as twilight fell outside. They would rest now. And tomorrow, they would be sent to fight another battle. Medea sighed. "Too many men died, Master. Is the cost of freedom truly so high? Does it have to be paid in blood?"
