Ty'nea's Journal

WARNING: AUDIO ONLY! NO TEXT READOUT!

CONTINUE? Y/N

*The low, familiar hum of machinery echoes through the recording, followed by the settling of leatheris against metal and the gentle swoosh of fabric.  And then, a soft, happy laugh.*

I’ve got my ship again.  

I…

*Another laugh, the sound of disbelieving joy.*

Everything is all of a sudden working out.

I have a new friend.  Master Moirianna and I have been chatting a bit since she walked me home from the cantina.  She’s lovely and it’s just so nice to have someone to talk to who doesn’t expect me to do anything or fall apart at any given time.  Jerhal doesn’t, of course, and Vyen’a doesn’t either, but everyone else who knows me seems to treat me like I’m made of eggshell.

And even if I didn’t have a new friend, it wouldn’t matter.  I have my ship.  My ship!  Vyen’a got in touch with Ludwik - since she’s engaged to Lieutenant Teral, and Ludwik’s his cousin, it makes sense.  But she got in touch with him.  And found out where my ship was.  He hadn’t sold it, even though I told him to.  I owe him huge for that.

Vyen’a had it stripped down to the studs and rebuilt.  She put in an art studio in a third of the cargo hold.  She just… she made it perfect for me, but left a lot of what made the ship mine.  The scarring on the left side of the hull from the run-in with that really angry Mando a few years back.  The dent on the left engine casing from the Jawa drinking party.

*A pause, then another soft laugh.*

Even the paint job she did was perfect.  Just touch ups, for the most part.  But on the tail end… it’s magnificent.  I would love to know how she got that drawing; it was based on one of my sketches.  A field of blue, with a red and gold and yellow bird flying up from a floor the color of ashes.  And in the same red and gold beneath, the name.

“Phoenix Rising.”

And Jerhal…

*Another pause, this one with an absolutely audible smile.*

He knew.  He knew and he didn’t tell me.  Vyen’a gave him the access codes and they teamed up and gave me my ship back - my home for so many years, back - on my birthday.  My birthday.  

And it was the first birthday I actually remember doing anything for.  Before it was usually work.  Or fight.  Or drink.  Last year I think I just sat on my ship and drew. And the year before that.  This year, Vyen’a and Jerhal teamed for my ship, and Jerhal took me out to dinner and just catered to me all day and…

*Another laugh*

And I have a hearing date. It’s in a few weeks.  Master Ihlrath… I don’t know what he did, but he must have pulled strings because I know people can go years without even getting a preliminary meeting.  I’m just terrified that I’ll go in with Jerhal with wedding plans for afterward and leave in cuffs.  I’m still so scared everything will come crashing down.  That I won’t get the same clearance for my past others have because I’m not force sensitive, or anyone important.

*A few beats of silence, the rumblings of an engine purring through the feed.*

But Jerhal promised he’d fight for me.  And I know he will.

I’m actually flying to pick him up now.  

We have a whole lot ahead of us.  But he’s worth it.

I’m beginning to believe again that I’m worth it, too.

AUDIO FEED ENDED!  DELETE FILE? Y/N

FULL NAME: TY’NEA SARAI KORBIN

SEX: FEMALE

PARENTS: [intentionally left blank]

DATE OF BIRTH (STANDARD GALACTIC): 30 DECEMBER, 14 YEARS BEFORE CORUSCANT FALL

PLACE OF BIRTH: NAR SHADDAA

HEIGHT: 5’7”

WEIGHT: 145LB

HAIR COLOR: RED

EYE COLOR: BROWN

SPECIES: HUMAN

DISTINGUISHING FEATURES: THREE SMALL TATTOOS ON FACE, TWO ON FOREHEAD, ONE ON CHIN.  SCAR CROSSING RIGHT CHEEK FROM EYE TO JAW.

PLEASE LIST THE PRIMARY REASONS FOR REQUESTING ASYLUM (USE FORM 122-A.2 IF MORE ROOM IS REQUIRED):

Sith torture

Political asylum

I’m in love

They’ll kill me if I go back

…

***

Ty’nea sat still, staring down at the form in front of her.  How?  How could she put to words why she wanted to become a Republic citizen?  There were so many.  Jerhal’s love. Escaping the hell the Sith had put her through.  Finding herself, her true self, for the first time.

She looked out the small window in the intake room, wishing someone was there with her.  Jerhal.  Vyen’a.  Even Rythe’s disdainful laughter would be comforting; something to focus on other than the buzz of the lights overhead and the forms in front of her.  This was the appointment she’d waited for, the one she’d hoped to finally have.  And now that it was here, with pen in hand and form after form in front of her, she was terrified.

Worse than stepping into the ring against an opponent over twice her size.

Worse than going up against a bounty that could kill her.

Worse than when Jerhal left and she knew she’d have to face the Sith alone.

Worse than when Book dove into her head, to find out what had been done.

At least there, she thought, she knew what would happen.  She knew that it would be one of two possible outcomes.  Here there were unknown variables.  Jail.  Exile. Execution.  Getting lost in a paperwork maze.  Never hearing.  Never knowing.

She took a breath and looked at the paper again, muttering to herself.

“How do I answer a question that effects the rest of my life?”

Ty’nea rubbed the space between her eyes, willing away the headache that was creeping around the edges, and looked out the window again.  The view, at least, was magnificent; she could see the ships landing and taking off from the spaceport.  It made her long for her own; the battered D5-Mantis that she never got around to naming and was now scrapped, most likely, at the bottom of Nar Shaddaa’s docks.  The only place she had of her own, before the apartment on Carrick.

Her home for so long, stripped and gone by dock rats.  She hadn’t been able to get a hold of Ludwik to find out what happened to it, and didn’t feel right asking Lieutenant Teral to call him over something so trivial.

And even though she loved her apartment, she missed flying.  She missed sitting in her captain’s chair, counting the stars, completely in control of her own destiny.

She hoped she’d have that again someday.

The pen rolled between her fingers, and she looked back down at the paper, staring at the question field.

PLEASE LIST THE PRIMARY REASONS FOR REQUESTING ASYLUM (USE FORM 122-A.2 IF MORE ROOM IS REQUIRED):

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.))

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.

he’s gone.

i watched the shuttle fly away until all that i could see was clouds and that always-present golden voss light.

he gave me his dog tags.  he wants to marry me.

so i have to survive.

tomorrow, i am going to talk to rythe.  we haven’t talked since that night when saeren came upon us arguing.  he won’t understand, and he’ll tell me i’m being an idiot and foolish, but i need to talk to him.

then i will talk to tybel.  if i keep details vague enough, he may have answers.

i’ll get in touch with ludwik.  he knows me from fighting, he knows who i was before everything bad happened.  he might be able to help.

jerhal’s sister, the pretty mirialan, wants me to contact her.

as does his lieutenant.

i can do this.

and i will contact the sith first.  he won’t have to track me down.  i won’t hide.  i won’t run.

i will not let him break me.

he will not win.