Ty'nea's Journal

The slender woman pressed her forehead against the window, thick glass reflecting the utter chill of the emptiness of space beyond.  The ship had long since blinked into hyperspace, but her eyes remained locked on the spot where it had disappeared.

Come home to me.

The words blew a puff of warm air against the thick window, hazing the view before evaporating in the artificial heat of Carrick Station.  Ty’nea wished that she was with them; going with the Seventh to fight this unknown enemy that had called up so many to take arms with it.  To stand shoulder to shoulder with the men and women who had saved her.  To return the favor.

But they had said no.   Vyen’a, Lieutenant Teral.  They both had said no; she needed to stay here.  It was too risky.  Vyen’a was worried she would have a panic attack if she saw the red of the Sith sabers.  Lieutenant Teral gave no reason.

She never asked the man who shared her bed.  Holden Jerhal. The one she ran for, the one she gave up everything for.  Early that morning, in the tiniest hours, she had woke, resting her cheek on his chest and listening to his heart beat as she had almost every night since his return.

Come home to me.

She whispered the words then, and again when she kissed him goodbye.  His cocksure grin told her he would, but she could see the tinge of worry behind his eyes.  She hadn’t called Vyen’a; she knew the woman was too busy holding herself together by threads any more.

She pushed a piece of red hair out of her face, resting her forehead against the thick window again, listening to her heart pound in her chest as her eyes closed.  Such fragile things, bodies.  Behind her lids she saw her past, watched body after body crumple and fall from her well placed shots.  She wondered if a few different circumstances would have put her on the opposite line, going blaster to blaster with the Seventh. With the man who now so carefully held her heart.  She certainly had every reason to hate force users and Sith in particular; it wasn’t that much of a stretch to see her fighting toward their eradication.

Another deep, shaky breath pulled her from her memories, eyes opening to stare out at the empty expanse of space, and she began to count the stars. One, two, a dozen dozen tiny pinpoints of light, the same repetition she’d done for years.  First from her ship’s tiny captain’s chair, then perched on a ledge in Vyen’a’s small control room, then finally, finally, curled with her love in a comfy, overstuffed chair.  Every night together, they’d count the stars.

Her heart pounded in her chest, breath tight in her throat, as she counted.

Twenty-two.

He’ll live.  He’ll be okay.

Twenty-three.

Just let it be.  Let it be.

Twenty-four…

Tears welled up in her eyes, blurring her vision, and she blinked them back before looking down to her hand, fingers twisting the gold band around her ring finger nervously before looking back out to space.

Come home to me.

The stars blinked back quietly, daring her tears to fall.  She blinked again, took another shaky breath, and stood up a bit straighter.

One…

Two…

he’s back.  jerhal is back.

vyen’a told me last night that they - she and lieutenant teral - had known for a week.  but they wanted me to be surprised.  and i was.  i was.

and it was the best surprise ever.

even though i was moved into my flat, vyen’a told me to come with her to corellia.  she said she’d need some help with this shipment she was picking up.  which was strange, but sometimes things get sticky so i didn’t bother asking.  and she left me to set up the cargo bay like she needed and went to organize the paperwork, and then she commed me and asked for me to go to the hangar to make sure everything was starting to move.  and that made sense, because the last few shipments she’s taken have just dragged and dragged.  so i downloaded the manifest from her display and went to the hangar but i couldn’t find it, and when i looked to doublecheck…

jerhal came up behind me. and put his arms around me.  and it was perfect.  it was wonderful.  he’s home.  he came back.  he’s alive and in one piece and and and…

lieutenant teral gave him a few days rest before putting him back on the line.  he’s so nice.  vyen’a and he are good together.  but since jerhal had a few days off, he climbed right back on a transport and we went back to carrick and he got to see my flat.  and we curled on my chair with my blanket and counted the stars again.

and just the bliss of being there, with him?

it was perfect.  

he wants to marry me.  he wants to have a family with me.  and that’s perfect.  it really is.  my headaches are still there, and he’s going to help me find out what’s wrong, why they’re still so bad.

and my drawings aren’t as shaky as they were.  and i might… 

i’ve been thinking about it for a while.  i might go to one of the fight nights that viper and vysht organizes; if jerhal will go with me.  no one will know me, probably.  and i won’t fight.  just watch.

i haven’t really wanted to go back since that night.  but i feel stronger now.  stronger than i have in a really, really long time.

i feel like me.

i’m living alone again.

vyen’a was making runs to corellia.  super dangerous, considering all the fighting there.  so she and i searched out a little flat for me on carrick.

it’s tiny.  it’s quiet.  it’s near a security station and she paid to set up a few extra security measures, just so i could feel safer.  vyen’a paid for the whole thing.  i told her i’d pay her back and do work on her ship and slicing for her and she laughed it off and waved her hand and said no, that her brother loved me and that it was worth it.

and then she gave me a huge stack of really good quality sketchpads and brand new graphites and some lovely smeary color sticks and a secure comm that i could use, it goes right to her ship and will alert her if anything happens so she can call security and make sure i’m okay.

and it’s terrifying.  but i do feel safer.  and this is my space.  all mine.

i didn’t think i would have that again.

the nightmares are still there most nights, but they’re not as bad as they were.  and some nights i don’t even dream now.  that’s nice.

it’s like when jerhal called, everything was made better.  the haze that had sort of been hanging over me since i was yanked out of the sith’s grasp has started to lift.  

i’ve been drawing more.  good things, not my nightmares.  the pond on carrick, the people i see.  i’m working on a piece for both master ihlrath and lieutenant teral, as thank yous.  i can go for walks without my heart feeling like it’s going to leap out of my chest; without looking over my shoulder every ten steps for someone coming after me.

i keep taking all these tiny steps forward.  and for once, finally, it feels like they’re moving me in the right direction.

maybe i will be okay after all.

I sort of like it here on Vyen’a’s ship.  I miss my own, but here is nice.  It’s mostly quiet.  She just sort of lets me do my own thing.  She took someone else in, too,  but she didn’t talk much; just went out and came back and cried.  I guess her boyfriend got taken captive by Sith during a battle or a skirmish or a run in or something on Voss. 

I know what that’s like.  

I didn’t tell her.

They got him back, though.  And I haven’t seen much of her since then.  I guess she’s staying with him.  That makes sense.  I would, in her place.

But then I guess Vyen’a got grabbed on Nar Shaddaa.  That was scary.  Lieutenant Teral… I could hear him crying one night, while they were trying to find her.  Just sobbing like his heart was breaking.  I guess they got into a fight right before she got grabbed; I heard Vyen’a talking about it with that big Zabrak that doesn’t like me.  Or didn’t.  Or something.  

They got her back too.  He - the Zabrak - was part of the group that brought her home.  And when he left the next day after he was sure she was okay, he ran into me on the way out and apologized for being a jerk.  He’s pretty nice, actually.  A full foot taller than me, which is a bit disconcerting, but nice.  And I guess Vyen’a and the Lieutenant aren’t doing too good now, after what happened.  I don’t want to push for details, though.

Vyen’a brought me some really lovely sketching graphites from Corellia when she and the Lieutenant went there.  Ludwik found my ship - security worked really well - and brought me all of my sketch books.  He said my ship looked too clean, like someone had snooped around and picked up after themselves too well.  But I have my books, and my holos.  And Jerhal’s letter that he wrote me before he left.

It was that last part I wanted the most.

I’ve mostly been sketching.  And sleeping.  and singing.  For being a corner of a cargo bay, my little room has really good acoustics.  I’ve also been working on slicing for Vyen’a and doing some rewiring of a huge ship the 7th’s gotten a hold of.  It gets me out, sort of, and people can see that I’m not going back on my word.  I had a nice talk with the Jedi attachment from the 7th - Master Jovh, I think? - and he’s really nice.  Was interested in what happened with the Sith, but I still don’t remember much of anything about it.  He didn’t press too hard; I guess he could tell I wasn’t lying.

My headaches are still really bad.  I don’t know why they’ve started acting up again, and they’re in this new spot, right under the little scars from the implants.  I’ve never had pain there before everything happened.

But overall, I’m keeping okay.  I want to write Rythe, even though I know he’ll just throw everything away unread.  I want to go visit Tybel and play with Valo and even be creeped on by Watcher 13 (well, maybe not that last one), but I know that’d be a death sentence the moment I stepped on Alderaan.

So I’ll stay here.  Safe.

Only two more months, I think.

i didn’t have nightmares last night.

i didn’t sleep great, but i didn’t have nightmares.

that’s a good sign, i think.

i’ve been mostly left to my own devices on vyen’a’s ship.  she doesn’t like me much, but we had a long talk a few days after everything happened and we came to a tentative understanding.  and she’s letting me stay here until jerhal comes back and we can figure out where i’ll go then.

she even brought me some blank sketchbooks. a peace offering, maybe; i know jerhal told her i drew.  she said she’d like to see some of them sometime.  i would too; all my sketchbooks, all my everything was on my ship when they grabbed me off nar shaddaa.  i don’t even know where my ship is; if it sold or if it’s still sitting in the hangar; if my upgraded security could withstand the dock rats that can strip a fully loaded X-5 Mantis to its studs in under an hour.

i wonder if ludwik could check on it for me.

i don’t have my comm any more.  i want to talk to people - rythe, tybel - let them know i’m alive, i’m okay, even if, like rythe, they don’t care.  and i need to find the people that were there, that helped me, that saved me.  i need to thank them.  personally.  i need to show them that it wasn’t for nothing, that i wasn’t just some faceless body that disappeared into space the second she got her feet back under her.

i’ll never be able to repay any of them.

first, though, i need to draw.  my headaches are still here, still under my scars.  i think my implants are finally giving out but i don’t think there’s a way to remove them without damaging my memory more so than it already is.  i’m alone for a few days; keeping an eye on vyen’a’s ship while she and lieutenant teral visit his family on corellia.

knowing the planet i’m docked over makes me miss jerhal even more.  i know that down there somewhere is his family: his brother, his father, his mother.  and even though i know his brother’s the only one that matters to him, i want to meet them, to see the people that made him who he is.

maybe when he comes back, we can come here, too.

soon.

((ty’nea’s on a slight rest right now; hence the lack of entries.  the utter intensity of the few months prior RP-wise, plus RL stuff - summer with a two year old is grand, and i’m gainfully employed again for the first time in almost three years - has made me scale back RP immensely.  the only RP i’m even remotely focusing on right now is vyen’a, and she’s rather fluffy (when not getting shot or shot at) and my game-time has been focused on leveling her to 50.))

i’m writing, but this isn’t my sketchbook.

i’m sitting in a cargo bay, but this isn’t my ship.

everything is fuzzy, and feels like a mistake.  but everything happened so fast, it can’t be one.

i don’t remember much.  the night before i was supposed to run, i met with watcher 13 on nar shaddaa for drinks. we both ended up having water.  i still felt like he was trying to peel my shirt from my chest with his eyes, even as he was trying to get information about jerhal from me.  we parted ways, and i went to an old cantina where i used to bar-back, years and years ago, while i was still fighting.  and i had two ales.  and…

and that’s when everything sort of gets fuzzy.

i remember a man telling me i was in the wrong place.  i left.  he made me nervous.  i remember stopping at a little store to buy cigarettes.

i remember running.

and then everything is wrong.  everything everything everything is wrong and i only remember being scared, so scared, and everything was black and if i looked into it i would go mad and i didn’t but i still feel like…

i know something’s not right.

i don’t remember things i know i should remember.  there are big pieces of time missing that i know are in there somewhere, but i can’t find them.  my little scars on my temples from the accident ache worse than they have in years and years, and i almost always have a headache, or feel like i’m getting one.

and it was…

i don’t know who it was.  that’s the worst part.  i feel like i should know who yanked me off nar shaddaa, who held me in the dark with a bag over my head and a rigged slave collar holding it in place until somehow, somehow, the 7th and some jedi found me and got me free and took me to their base on voss.  but i don’t know who.  i can’t quite see a face.  i can’t remember a name.  every night i’m waking up screaming from voices whispering and faces dancing and the second i open my eyes they’re gone and i’m alone on vyen’a’s ship, in the little room she made for me in her cargo bay.

and even now, even now, after all of this.  i feel safer.  i know they’re still out there but they can’t get me now.  they were sith - lots of sith - and they were defeated.  and no one got hurt too badly, i don’t think.  and now i’m safer, in republic territory, in republic space, surrounded by republic soldiers who rescued me - me - and will keep me safe and help me get better.

lieutenant teral - jerax is his first name, it turns out - said he and vyen’a and the rest of the 7th will take care of me until jerhal gets back.  and he said he wants to make sure i’m the first thing jerhal sees when he gets off that transport.  and i can see that actually happening, but i want to be better before then.

i need to really focus on getting better, on the whole recovery process.  i just wish i knew what happened, so i could start.

WARNING!  AUDIO ONLY: NO TEXT READOUT!

CONTINUE? Y/N

*The low rumble of a ship’s idling engine is punctuated by the click-clack of armored boots pacing across a metal deck.  They slow, then stop, and a deep breath is taken.*

I finished the job for the Sith.

And I’ve made a decision. 

I’m running.

*There’s a quiet laugh, almost disbelieving.*

I have a meeting with Ludwik at noon local on Tuesday.  Up on the promenade.  Just like old times.  He’s going to help me sell my ship, then help me skip out.  Shuffling around in some cargo so my tail loses me.

And then to Corellia.

And then Naboo.

And then Coruscant.

Then to throw myself at the mercy of the Republic.  Beg for political asylum.  Lieutenant Jerax said he’d stand up for me.  I know Ludwik would, too.

*She takes a deep, shaky breath; a chair scrapes across metal and the familiar crunch-clink of an armored body sitting down filters through the recording.*

If I don’t go now, I won’t be able to.  Ever.  I’ll be trapped here, and Jerhal will be on the other side.

I met with Tybel, finally.  I got to say goodbye.

He understood.  I knew he would.  He gave me a hug and told me to be careful.  He didn’t understand why at first.  But then I showed him the sketchbook.

He understands now.

And Watcher 13 commed me, asked if I wanted to go for drinks, but it ended bad, so bad, with blasters drawn against Jedi.  And then friends of Jerhal’s were there too; I recognized them from his going away party.  The woman didn’t recognize me - there was no reason for her to, plus I was fully armored with helmet - but the man…

*She lets out a shaky sigh*

He slipped me a datastick with his comm information.  He recognized my armor.  It was Ihlrath, Jerhal’s friend.  The one who got in touch with Zentoyo to have me dance at the party.

That was risky of him.

Watcher 13 got caught up trying to get into someone’s pants - I guess that’s his usual way of operations, so he probably was trying to figure out what I looked like undressed the other day at the base - so I took that moment to leave.

And I did.

And I’m leaving forever.

I’ve said my goodbyes.

And now I just have to survive until Tuesday.

*The feed hums quietly for about thirty seconds*

Everything will change then.

Everything will be okay.

I’ll be okay.

AUDIO FEED ENDED!  DELETE RECORDING? Y/N

i went to the alderaan base a few days ago.  i need to talk to tybel.  i think it’s going to be saying goodbye.  i need to resign.

he wasn’t there.  no one was, except the agent who runs the base.  i don’t know his name.  everyone just calls him watcher 13.  he’s very intense.  there’s something about him that makes me nervous - real nervous.

it might be because the way he looked at me, it was like he was trying to figure out what i looked like under my armor.  or the way he stared when i took a drag of my cigarette.

it was…

i felt like i needed a long shower once i left.  and it was like i could feel his eyes on my throat long after i was back on my ship.

he saw the chain i have jerhal’s tags on.  he recognized it as a military something. he tried to ask questions, to get me to open up about him a little, but i wouldn’t.

i couldn’t.

i met up with ludwik last night on nar shaddaa.  he gave me some new blasters.  it’s so weird that he’s lieutenant jerax’s cousin.  that my “secret contact” was the one who walked me home after that night at the fighting ring.

he wants me to keep in contact.  he saw how scared i was.  he knows i don’t get that scared, not usually.

i haven’t heard back from the sith.  i hope he sees i’m doing his jobs and will just leave me alone; will just… just let me do this work i don’t want to do, and when this list is over…

when this list is over, i’m running.  i can change my name.  i can save up enough to change my face just enough to be not-me.  and i can just disappear into coruscant or corellia until jerhal is back and then we can just be.

i just have to finish the list first.

i just have to stay breathing.

i’ve spent the past few days trying to put my head back together.  it’s not going very well. i just want some semblance of normalcy in my life, but that won’t happen again for a very long time.

before i even talked to the sith, i went to talk to rythe.  even though he’s the one who reminded me months ago that i had no loyalty to them, that if things got bad enough i could just leave and go to the republic, he wouldn’t listen.  he threw me out.

i expected it, i guess.

i sent a courier droid back to him with the painting of the alderaan waterfall and the view from the cliff on voss that he likes and some sketches i did of him and saeren.  i was half expecting them to be sent back, too.

i sent a note to ludwik.  he… well.  he’s more than an acquaintance, less than a friend, but he was there at the fights, and after the twi’lek.  he’s the one who suggested i start hunting in the first place.  he has fewer allegiances than i do.  he may have ideas.

i still haven’t talked to tybel.  we had an appointment but there was a delay at the alderaan spaceport. by the time i got to base, he was in meetings.  i’m hoping against hope that he understands, at least a little.  he did, after all, leave the jedi order to join the empire, to be with harith…

…maybe i won’t tell him, exactly.

the sith gave me a list of names.  as though nothing had ever happened.  six targets, all republic military.  and i have to.  i have to.  i don’t want to do this any more but i don’t know what he’ll do if i don’t. so i studied up, sliced some feeds.  spent the better part of two days doing research.  meticulously. then went to ord mantell.

i arranged a meeting with lieutenant jerax in the middle of the street to make it look like a chance encounter.  so if he decided to arrest me or shoot me, that asshole tail i have would be able to report back that i failed; that i was captured.  and so if the tail now has orders to shoot me, that i wouldn’t die alone in a field somewhere.

and instead of telling me to forget jerhal, instead of arresting me - which, face it, he could had done on a hundred different charges - lieutenant jerax swore he’d protect me.  he said i had the protection of the seventh, of the marran, and of his family.  he even said he’d get jerhal’s sister to accept me more than just barely.

it was not what i expected.

he gave me some information to get in contact with his cousin.  he thinks there could be some help there for me, as well.

i don’t want to do this.  any of this.  i just want to sit and draw and make everything go away and count the days until…

but i don’t have that option any more.

i don’t know if i ever did.