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Thread: Wake Me From This Torpor

  1. #1
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    Jedi Wake Me From This Torpor

    OOC: Any Jedi serving on the Knightfall are free to join this.


    Over a quarter of a century, Tionne Thanewulf remained frozen in carbonite. The substance that was her casket blocked out her Force signature completely, making her confinement safe against any Jedi hunters that scanned the galaxy for decades on a perpetual seek and destroy mission. With plentiful bounties placed on all members of the Order, a galaxy was an unfriendly place for all Jedi in the years that followed the Great Jedi Purge.

    However, Tionne remained relatively secure, frozen, her body dormant and resisting the eroding tooth of time; when others saw they hair grow white, Tionne's locks remained of brilliant copper hue, alabaster skin as delicate as it was more than twenty five years ago. Captured in carbonite, she seemed so serene, with hands crossed over her lower abdomen like a saint.

    Perhaps this was the main reason why art thieves decided to take her whilst raiding the Galactic Museum repository of Improcco just after the Battle of Yavin, evidently mistaking her for a piece of art, thus separating her from her student. The two remained in a close mental connection, but soon enough, they were lightyears away from each other. The block of carbonite exchanged multiple owners before one particular Mon Calamarian started to suspect if the contents of the casket were still alive, despite the fact nobody was ever been known to survive such a fate. In a sense, Tionne risked her own and the life of her apprentice, knowing that much greater Jedi have fallen before the tyrannical regime that emerged.

    Now in the hands of the Alliance, Tionne was shipped to Knightfall and into the hands of the few remaining Jedi in seclusion, as they were trusted with the task of uncovering the nature of the occupant. Even more interest was sparked when an ancient inscription on the side of the block was revealed, together with a circular seal that resembled a very old and forgotten version of the Symbol of Unity.

    ''The phoenix hope, can wing her way through the desert skies, and still defying fortune's spite; revive from ashes and rise.''

    Finally having made her way to the right pair of hands, the Knight waited patiently, immersed in deep slumber, relying on the innate curiosity of humans to thaw and wake her.

  2. #2
    Barton Henning
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    Since throwing his lot in with the Alliance's Support Services, Barton Henning and his crew had been responsible for transporting a wide variety of cargo. They had delivered equipment and medical supplies to remote garrisons of soldiers, emergency food rations to stranded refugees and even stolen art to the galaxy's aristocracy. Yet, for all there was variety in their cargo, it was usually fairly mundane fare. Certainly, a Jedi frozen in carbonite was something that had never before graced the hold.

    It was the middle of the night and although, in space, the solar and lunar cycles had little effect on the crew of the Knightfall, the majority of the freighters passengers were asleep. The Captain – or the Doc as he was also known – stood in front of his shipment, hands on hips. The carbonite slab had been packed in a heavy, unmarked crate. The shipping manifest had been vague, though Barton had known the boxes contents and merely neglected to share this knowledge with his crew. Some part of him felt guilty for the deception, but a greater part was still hard-wired into secrecy when it came to dealings with Jedi.

    Mouth pressing into a firm, thin line, Henning rubbed the sweat from his brow and top-lip with unsteady hands. Just the sight of it made him feel sick in his stomach. There had been no indication of how long this woman had been frozen. They knew it was a woman, of course, because the freezing process created a relief of the body within, a vivid sculpture of her features in life. She looked... calm, peaceful even, but there was no telling how or why she had come to such a fate. Pinching his brow between thumb and forefinger, Barton wondered if she was even still alive...

  3. #3
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    Like a sculpture carved in granite, the faintest, daintiest of smiles persisted on Tionne's face. It was mysterious and tinged with mischief; from one corner it seemed as if she was smiling, whilst from the other she appeared serious. Although it was only a trick of the light and nothing else, it provided the observer with temporal amusement that would create doubts. The smile was nothing else but the manifestation of her inborn cynicism made eternal. Nevertheless, it was inviting and almost enchanting; when coupled with the finesse of her features, it easily became mesmerizing to the person who stared long enough.

    Under layers and layers of carbonite, Tionne's signature still resonated potently, even in her dormant state, this being a direct consequence of the Knight's deep connection with the Living Force. None of it emanated out of the block, remaining impalpable to most Jedi. There was nothing else left to do but to wait, like she waited many years before and trust the will of the Force, whatever it ended up being.

  4. #4
    Barton Henning
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    It took another half an hour at least before his mind was made up. The slip of paper in his hands had once contained neatly written instructions for how to reverse the freezing process, but the sweat in Barton's palms had made the ink smudge and blur. Still, he could read it well enough – and Force knew he had looked over those few lines of text many times before. Crumpling it into a ball within his fist, he took purposeful steps towards the carbonite block and forced his hand towards its control panel.

    A five digit security could would begin the procedure necessary to free the Jedi trapped within. With trembling hands, Barton keyed in the correct sequence of numbers and, when the slab gave a rewarding hisssss, took a quick step backwards, uncertain of what would happen next...

  5. #5
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    As the thawing sequence was initiated, tibanna gas emanated from the sides of the block, forced through several valves as the inside of the carbonite block slowly repressurized. The surface of the block gradually began to liquify and glow with an inherent orange luminescence, its hue reminiscing of the glimmer of the Galactic Core.
    Within the dark matter, a perfectly preserved female body stood still; clad in traditional Jedi robes, copper hair falling all the way to the waist. Bubbles of gas formed ripples in the transparent, glassy surface, disclosing one fully equipped Jedi.

    In an instant, Tionne's consciousness resurfaced, her Force signature liberated from its carbonic confinement. Her senses shot outwards, far outside of the hull of the ship she found herself in, spanning in all directions in a long-distant search for those who she left behind. Suddenly, gray eyes shot wide open when a reflexive muscle spasm drove Tionne out of the block. With a loud thud, she landed right in front of the man who liberated her, her posture somewhat stiff from a decade long sleep. Nevertheless, her hand shot towards her saber attached at her waist; with one snap-hiss, a golden-orange blade illuminated her face as she assumed the opening stance of Soresu, both of her hands shaking.

    ''Whaa...t year...is...it?'' she uttered in a raspy, intermittent voice, gaze fixed on the man before her. With lower lip caught in a uncontrollable tremor, the Knight gathered all strenght she had within her gut to repeat her question upon not receiving an answer right away.
    ''What year...is it????'' she shouted, her eyes widening in agitation when she jolted her saber forwards, signalling she would not hesitate to attack if he delayed with his answer further.

  6. #6
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    OOC: Hope you don't mind being spied on, guys!

    Atton Kira stretched, the bunched muscles in his back crunching unpleasantly at the vertibrae of his spine. He should probably stand up and wander around, but frankly he'd done that so many times over the past few voyages that even the deviation in scenery from the bunk room had lost its appeal, despite the obvious advantages to escaping from the rather intreguing noises that Ben made in his sleep.

    Instead, he'd situated himself in the small communications booth that nestled just behind the Knightfall's bridge, and was engaging in his favourite past time - spying on the rest of the crew. It wasn't a particularly malicious thing, really; just his journalist-inspired curiosity getting the better of him. The Captain would probably be grizzly about the covert modifications that Katie had managed to work into the security system on his behalf, but Atton was quite content to hide behind his fractional ownership of the Knightfall to help him get away with most of what his boredom inspired.

    Right now, the monitors slowly cycled through the various security sensors, as Atton reclined - feet perched atop Katie's bucket head - and ate his way through a rather flavourless ration pack. The exercise reminded him of some of the reality programmes they broadcast on the holonet at times - sequences of grainy, night-vision scenes of people busy sleeping, mostly. Of particular intregue were the repeated flashes of the Captain, who seemed to have spent the last half-hour silently observing the mysterious crate in the cargo hold. Atton hadn't bothered to probe for information; his instincts told him when people were unlikely to respond to even casual questioning, and this was one of those times when Henning was unlikely to be particularly forthcoming.

    His feet dropped off Katie, the downwards momentum carrying him into a proper seated position. His abdominals did the rest, leaning him closer to the screen. What he'd apparently dismissed as the grainy image of some statue or other had apparently melted, depositing someone in a heap on the deck. That in particular piqued Atton's reporter's instincts, since statues generally didn't do that. Curiosity burned angrily inside him; ordinarily he'd have leapt up, run to the cargo bay, and tried to come up with some sort of excuse to accidentally happen upon the scene. Henning probably new him too well for that to work, unfortunately.

    His gaze settled on the little R4 droid, who seemed somewhat disgruntled about having been used as a footstool. He frowned, considering the droid's chances of getting away with a little accidental surveillance. "Go find out who that is," Atton instructed, deciding that it was worth the risk.

    Katie discharged a string of beeps and whistles; not for the first time, Atton was glad he didn't have a clue what any of it meant. Shifting the chair slightly, he tried to use one of the consoles as an alternate footrest, and grunted in frustration when it proved to be a few inches too far away. With something that sounded particularly snide, Katie rolled out of the room, leaving Atton to his discomfort. The reporter sighed. "Don't tell him I sent you!" he added over his shoulder, words chasing the little droid down the corridor.

  7. #7
    Barton Henning
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    OOC: You sneaky bugger!

    If the instinct had ever existed in him to reach for the reassuring grip of a lightsaber, it lay dormant now. Barton staggered backwards, putting immediate distance between himself and the woman who had emerged like a specter from the fog of tibanna gas. When she spoke, her words barely reached him at first – the thudding beat of his heart echoing inside his ears, pressure at his temples – but when she drew her weapon, she claimed his attention.

    “Two years after Endor,” he blurted, his mouth moving faster than his mind could, so that it took seconds for his sense of logic to kick in: how long had she been frozen? It was more likely than not that she had no idea what the phrase 'after Endor' meant. Lacking the clarity of mind to offer any other answer, Barton held his hands up in the universal gesture of surrender. His eyes found hers and held her uncertain gaze.

    “You're in friendly company, I promise.”

  8. #8
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    A ginger brow was lifted in puzzlement.
    ''Endor? Endor? Endor....'' she repeated, shaking her head in discredit. Somehow, the name did not quite compute. After noticing the evident gesture of surrender, the Knight disengaged her saber, the pillar of light returning to the finely crafted hilt. Her senses told her there was no immediate danger around, so the redhead assumed a more relaxed stance, the burden of gravity making her posture more crooked.

    ''First and foremost...where are we?'' she inquired, taking a few steps back to clutch to a nearby wall in a sudden flash of fatigue. Heavily relying on the Force, Tionne barely managed to stay on her feet,stumbling forwards as her stomach twirled around inside her gut.

    ''Secondly...do you have an astrometrics device I could use?'' the Knight added in a pleading tone, briefly closing her eyes to chase the soreness of muscles away.

  9. #9
    Katie
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    As if on queue, an astrometrics device trundled into the room, trying to seem as casual as possible. Servos whirring, drive wheels clanking against the deck plates, Katie followed a precalculated course that transported her diagonally across the bay to the nearest maintenance port. Extending the necessary repair tools to remove the access cover and perform a comprehensive yet completely trivial and unproductive routine analysis - something she often did when attempting to look busy and useful, but when there wasn't actually anything constructive to do - she set about her pretend activity, hoping that her presence would go unnoticed.

    Inside her core processor however, a subroutine that Atton had installed activated, relaying data from her audio receptors to an inbuilt comlink that transmitted on a coded frequency. For better reception, she angled the rotating turret of sensor equipment atop her construction vaguely in the direction of the two other occupants of the bay.

    Unfortunately that aimed her ocular receptor in that direction as well. Apparently having attracted their attention, she offered the most casual string of droidspeak pops and whistles that she could muster, and then quickly turned her visual attention away from Captain Henning and his new friend, and back towards the conduit. Master Atton would just have to make do with whatever her receptors picked up from here.

  10. #10
    Barton Henning
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    There was a great relief with seeing the lightsaber power down. Though he had grown up around scores of blades just like it, there was still something unsettling about the weapon linked inextricably with the Jedi Order. It illuminated corners of his mind that sometimes he would rather have left dark and untouched.

    As his newly revived companion sagged under obvious fatigue, Barton took a step forward to steady her, looping an arm around her shoulders. He had been so shocked by the whole process, so awed by her presence, that he had neglected to think how she might be feeling.

    “I do,” he replied to her second question, his eyes lifting to the sight of Katie apparently performing some routine maintenance. The droid whistled in that strangely human way droids did, lending an almost mischievous tone to each beep.

    “But we should get to the med-bay first. I'm not sure what the after-effects are of carbon-freezing,” he hesitated, remembering that the Knightfall had a doctor, and it was not him. “We should get you checked out, before we do anything else, alright?”

  11. #11
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    Tionne's breath grew heavier as she bent over, pressing palms against her knees. A drapery of copper hair fell over to cover her face, locks bouncing off her shoulders in their downwards trajectory. Her fatigue was worsening with every passing second, the Force being unable to compensate for the amassing after-effects. Nevertheless, the redhead continued in her trademark tone.

    ''Nausea, disorientation, muscular cramps... A fair amount of vomiting. I took the liberty of consuming only a few mints before I was frozen, merely to avoid barfing as my first attempt of communication. Very few species consider this kind of opening appropriate.'' the Knight voiced sarcastically, ginger brow furrowing. Forcibly exhaling, she sniffed her own breath.
    ''Oh, now this is what I call a powerful mint...'' she commented, more to herself than anybody else, before looking up.

    ''I'm a doctor...sort of.'' Tionne added, before her intracranial centre for balance decided to go spastic. ''Offf....'' was all that she managed upon slumping to the floor, her muscles completely disobedient.

  12. #12
    Barton Henning
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    Though her body had just about given up, Barton's was in a state of hyper-awareness. He caught her before she hit the ground, arms looping beneath hers. He sank down beside her, barely feeling the weight of her, at least not physically. There was a substance to her that didn't try the muscles so much as it did the mind. Her presence in the Force both was, and warranted, bracing. Conditioning kept the words coming from Henning's mouth, however. He had been trained too well to panic.

    “Do you've any allergies? Bacta, adrenal stims?” he said, his eyes quickly moving over her limp limbs, evaluation whether it would be safe to move her from the cargo bay. There was only a basic medikit to hand, but it would be stocked with the basics necessary to stabilise her.

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    Her hands instinctively grabbed the sleeves of Barton's shirt, then released it as the last of her strenght left in a long, deep exhale. Her head jerked backwards and fleshy lips parted to allow for steady, but intermittent breathing. A few wordless moments passed, the Knight using the time to muster the art of speaking again. Finally finding her voice, she smiled barely.

    ''Please...Don't put me in a bacta-tank.'' Tionne pleaded quietly, releasing herself completely to fall in his grip - ''Just an adrenaline shot would suffice... And shot of whiskey afterwards.''

    Gentle quivers overwhelmed her entire body, despite the layers of cloth she was wrapped in. The sensation of coldness was rather on the inside than the outside.

  14. #14
    Barton Henning
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    The adrenal stimulant was easy enough found; the whiskey would have to wait. With some effort, Barton helped the still-groggy Jedi out of the chill of the cargo-bay and to the marginally more welcoming closeness of an empty crewman's bunk. The room lay unclaimed, in spite of the Knightfall's growing passenger roster. There was a bed with a coarse woolen blanket and not much else, but it was the rooms privacy that Henning valued at that particular moment in time. Whilst the newcomer made herself comfortable, Barton retrieved a mug of water. The puzzled frown still pressed his brow as he set the cup down on the bunk's bedside table. Silently, he wondered: did the Force give her the cognizance to understand what was happening to her, where she was being taken, even when she was frozen...?

    “Do you know.. how you came to be here?”

  15. #15
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    The bed was ascetic as was the ship's interior, but Thanewulf slept in worse. The rugged texture of the blanket scratched against what little of her alabaster skin was exposed, but provided partial warming nevertheless. Tionne sunk behind the wollen sheath like a small child waiting for a bed-time story. Her limbs disobedient, the Knight felt helpless, completely dependent on the stranger that sat beside her, at least for the time being. It was not the sensation she fancied, nor the prospect of somebody else taking care of her.

    ''Allow me to introduce myself...'' she began in a slightly raspy voice, taking in a deep breath that would last her long enough for a monologue that ensued - ''I am Tionne Thanewulf, Jedi Knight of the Galactic Republic. Jedi Watchman of Corellia and its sector. Also a sentientologist. And as for the answer to your question... No. I don't know how I ended up here, on this particular ship. But my congealment was voluntary. It was the only way to remove myself...and my apprentice from the Force when prosecution of the Jedi began, right after the fall of the Republic. So, without any connection to the field itself, I know nothing of how I ended up here. We froze ourselves in the Galactic Museum repository on the moon of Improcco.''

    Her hand extended towards the mug, but failed to grab it without spilling the water contained inside. Tionne said nothing, but her eyes begged for some help.
    ''Speaking of which...did you obtain another sarcophagus together with mine?''
    Mercury coloured irises filled with hope, hope that her Corellian student was not far, so that he could too be woken.

  16. #16
    Barton Henning
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    There was something unspoken in the Knight's words that Barton could not fail to hear. As he helped her take her first tentative sip of water, his eyes betrayed the answer that he was reluctant to give.

    “You arrived aboard this ship alone,” he said, finally. The solemnity in his voice was both for her loss and his own, as mention of the fall of the Republic swept his thoughts back to Coruscant and frantic flight from the temple. There was a long pause before he spoke again.

    “The Alliance bought the slab you were frozen in... the last remnants of the Republic. I was tasked with taking you to their fleet, where the others are. The rest of the Jedi who escaped.” Again, unspoken went the possibility that her apprentice was already aboard one of the ships of the Wheel, experiencing a similar reawakening at that very moment.

  17. #17
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    ''Alone.'' the fair-haired woman repeated his words in a swoop of melancholy, her gaze growing distant and wistful. She had not prepared herself for the possibility of being separated from her student, with no means to find him as carbonite blocked his presence in the Force. Tionne missed the familiar, palpable presence of the Corellian already. Chasing any betraying thoughts away and locking her emotions in, the Coruscanti allowed for some optimism; considering her luck, the blond-haired Jedi could still be alive somewhere, waiting to be thawed.

    ''How many Jedi are there? Not the exact number, but your modest approximation. When I froze myself, 99% of the Order had been exterminated, along with far greater Jedi than myself. I stood better chances in waking from a condition most biologists would consider suicide than living on the run. And then there was my student, who could not hide himself in the Force. His bright signature attracted bounty-hunters and Acolytes like moths to a lightbulb...''
    Her voice trailed off into silence when the Knight realized how self-immersed her monologue was. Why would anybody ever care about what happened to her?

    ''Excuse me...I'm rambling. I'm forever in your debt. What is your name so that I may remember it?'' she asked, refocusing on the man that sat beside her.

  18. #18
    Barton Henning
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    “Barton Henning.”

    His gaze lowered for a moment, as harsh torchlight flashed across his minds eye, the oppressive smell of sewage cloying in his nostrils. He heard the clang of footsteps ringing out ahead and the swish of robes, made heavy by filthy water. All of their training had not been enough to dispel the cloud of fear that hung over them all, the young Jedi apprentices fleeing the guns of the Republic's clones and the unforgiving blade of Darth Vader.

    “There are.. more Jedi than I would have imagined,” he admitted, blinking away the old memories. “But very few from the old Order. The strongest were the hunted the hardest, I suppose. I've heard of only one living Jedi Master,” he added, then thinking beyond Navaria Tarkin to her sister, the Imperial Empress. There was so much to recount, it was difficult to know where to begin.

  19. #19
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    Caught in Tionne's cobweb of empathy, Barton's feelings he unconsciously projected outwards reverberated in a familiar resonance. She could certainly relate to the feeling of hopelessness that filled every Jedi who survived Order 66; from grey eminence of the galaxy they granulated into nothing more than folk-tale, exotic animals. Her fleshy lips thinned, her gaze diverted away from her saviour to glance at the endless darkness of deep space that lurked through the minute window.

    ''In my heart, I had hoped I would wake into a brighter future. But the voice of my reason was proven right. Dark times are indeed upon us...''
    Her despondent articulation was interrupted by a sudden gasp, followed by a struggle for air. The Knight coughed, eyes widening, the entirety of her body jerking forwards.

    ''By the Force...khm...'' the redhead managed through a sequence of dampened wheezes - ''I almost...forgot about this. Do...do you happen to have a spare bandage?'' she pleaded, her hand instinctively tapping against the blanket in search of something to hold as pain rocketed up her spine.

  20. #20
    Barton Henning
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    Feeling a sudden flash of that pain that was not his own, Barton jerked forward too. Receptive empathy was the healers greatest blessing and curse in one, and though his time on Cloud City had hardened Henning's abilities, Tionne's story had caused him to drop his guard for a moment. It wasn't a mistake he'd soon make again.

    “Bandage,” he echoed, though his mind was on a far more immediate solution. Though the wound was hidden, one hand moved instinctively to the source of the pain, guided by the Force.

    Barton took a cleansing breath, recalling how he had healed Mu Satach's burns in the back of the Cloud 9 Bar and Grill, calling for the first time in years on the healing arts he had learned as a Jedi Padawan. Those lessons seemed as clear in his mind as if they had been conducted yesterday and though the Force did not come to him as easily as it had then, as if grown rusty through years of neglect, with a little focus and encouragement he felt that familiar warmth prickling over his palm and fingertips, reaching out to bridge the space between his hand and the body of the injured Jedi Knight.

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