The More Things Change

[Inyos Aamoran]

This thread takes place a day or two after Getting Things In Order (http://www.sw-fans.net/forum/showthread.php?t=20087).

Arriving at his destination, Inyos shifted a little uncomfortably. He had asked for directions to where Master Thanewulf was staying, and he had certainly found her; he just wasn't entirely sure what he intended to say. He had recognised her at the gathering, looking impossibly identical to how she had, decades before, and in his desperation to find some sense of familiarity from his past, he had sought her out.

While some of the other Jedi he'd encountered on the Wheel thus far were familiar to him - Padawans, mostly, whose names he recognised - there were only two who really knew him. Tionne was one of that pair, and while their encounters were hardly numerous, he still felt a degree of apprehension, wondering how she might react to the discovery of what the years had turned him into.

He cursed himself mentally, eyes flickering closed as he reached inside himself to find the source of calm that had always helped him maintain his control. It was foolish to allow such emotions to rock and rule his mind: a Jedi was to be calm, collected, and balanced. A soothing breath passed through his lips, and he allowed his eyes to open. A hint of relief crept into his mind: while his blanket of control was worn and frayed by his ordeals since the Purge, he at least found himself more centred, and a little more at peace.

Reaching out, he allowed his knuckles to knock three times against the durasteel of Tionne's door.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

With a hiss, the door slid open. Thanewulf stood in half-darkness of her improvised quarters, unkempt and awoken. Ginger locks were bundled in a loose bun atop her head, rakish from tossing and turning against the pillow in her bunk bed. She wore a shabby looking grey tank top and white boyish shorts, bare feet tapping against the durasteel floor. Nevetheless, she cared little about her current appearance, as her eyes scraped against a familiar appearance.

A hand was extended outwards, fingertip pressed between the crevasse of Inyos' trademark chin dimple. The Knight merely wanted to make sure he was real.
''It is you.'' she concluded, pulling him inside by his sleeve - ''Inyos, you pangalactic ninny! Good to see you.''
Spontaneously, Tionne hugged him. At least a fragment of her past was preserved, no matter how small. Upon squishing life out of him, an eyebrow was raised.
''You had a facelift?'' the redhead jested, awaiting for a viable explanation for his apparent lack of ageing.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Her greeting was somewhat different to what he'd expected, and if he was honest it left him a little unsettled. It wasn't that her enthusiasm to see him was unwelcome; but aside from a few passing touches, and the occasional time he was tackled to the floor, it represented the first person-to-person physical contact he'd had in almost a decade, and in truth it left him a little overwhelmed.

And of course, she'd want to hear the story of how a man of over fifty had managed to escape the addles of time as effectively as he could, but that was hardly the kind of story that should be entered into so early in conversation.

Instead, he found himself taking a leaf out of the Mandan Hidatsa playbook, for some strange reason: deflecting an unwanted question with a little dash of sarcasm. "Apparently I need to fire my surgeon, and get in touch with yours."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

His reply instigated whole-hearted laughter from the ginger haired Jedi; it was not often she witnessed such wit. A clear sign of intelligence in a universe infested with idiots, it was greatly appreciated.
''Well, do come in!'' she encouraged, struggling to move a crate opposite to her improvised bed so that Aamoran would have a place to sit - ''As you see, I still have some unpacking to do. A woman can never have enough wardrobe.''

Finally pushing a durasteel case into place, she offered him a seat, then jumped atop her messy bed, crossing legs in a lotus position.
''So, Inyos Aamoran, you have some explaining to do.'' the redhead stated, pointing an inquisitive finger in his direction - ''So do I.''

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos offered a gracious bow before settling onto the offered crate. It was hardly the most comfortable of perches, but he allowed his Jedi control to zone out the feeling to a level where it no longer bothered him.

He hardly noticed himself paying perhaps a little too much attention as Tionne went about her tidying, though his analysis of her choice of clothing in particular was as much analytical as anything else. As she looked back in his direction however, he found himself focussing his eyes on his hands briefly, in concession to her modesty.

Her question was blunt, to be sure, but then he expected nothing less from the Watchman of Corellia. Even so, he felt himself as reluctant to divulge his particular story as he was to spend too long paying attention to how short her shorts happened to be.

He offered her a brief crack of a smile, as his eyes climbed back towards hers. "Ladies first?" he offered.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Well aware of the wanderings of his eyes, Thanewulf frowned. Certainly, her attire was far from the concealing, formal Jedi robes Inyos was used to seeing Tionne wear. Momentarily, the Knight simply did not care. He was the one to intrude her privacy - what did he expect - her sleeping in a space suit? Knowing other typical exemplars of the opposite gender, Aamoran probably slept in less.

''My eyes are up here, Jedi.'' the redhead reminded, fingers arranged in a V-shape pointing towards her eye sockets.

''Nothing much to tell, really. After assessing the odds of making it alive through the Purge, I calculated I'd have higher chances of surviving carbonite freezing. And so I did.'' she explained casually, as if talking about picnic, not an act of certain suicide.
''The stasis blocked out the Force completely, transforming me into a piece of art. Not that I was not one to begin with.'' said the Knight with a self-absorbed chuckle. She then reached under the bed, pulling out a bottle of whiskey she stashed there for safekeeping.
''As such, I deposited myself at the Galactic museum vault. Apparently, I was stolen, was traded and exhibited for quarter of a century, before somebody actually figured out how to press the thaw button.''
Removing the cork from the bottle's neck with her teeth, the Coruscanti drank from it, then offered it to fellow Jedi.
''Drink. Nobody to report you, nobody you could be reported to. Still, behave.'' said Tionne, referring to the usual routine of padawans ratting out each other upon frequenting trips to bars of questionable morale.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Carbon freeze? Theft? Nearly three decades in stasis?

After running through that scenario in his mind, Inyos certainly needed a drink.

For practical reasons, alcohol was not one of the things that was forbidden for Jedi: it had been invented, millennia ago, as a means to purify water on some worlds, and some of the outlying agricultural worlds still continued the practice for that very purpose. The Jedi Order could hardly forbid a Jedi from drinking to quench their thirst; and there were times, particularly on the lower levels of Coruscant or out in the Outer Rim, when you needed to have a drink or two to help ease the attitudes of a contact towards you. Not to mention how integral it was in many cultures, and how important is was for a Jedi to avoid insulting local cultures.

That said, overindulgances of any kind were heavily frowned upon, and Inyos was fairly sure that drinking direct from the bottle for purely social reasons likely fell into the latter catagory. He had always been a staunch observer of the Code - the kind of Jedi who took it all literally, and who could quote entire texts and teachings if he needed to. The kind who could be relied upon to be predictable. And look where it had got him.

Mandan, on the other hand, had always been his polar opposite: unpredictable, impulsive, and very liberal with his interpretation of the rules - there was something in Tionne that reminded him of his old friend's attitude. It had always brought Inyos endless frustration, and yet, when the Order had fallen, Inyos had almost fallen with it: his faith that justice and good would prevail utterly shaken. Were it not for the intervention of Mandan and his relaxed views, who knew how he might have turned out.

Maybe I should try and be a little more like Mandan, he mused.

Graciously accepting the bottle, he downed a generous mouthful, and savoured the warmth that rushed through his body, feeling it bleed heat out from his throat to every extremity. He let his gaze linger on the neck of the bottle for a few moments, considering Tionne's words. "When do I ever not behave?" he countered, his tone laced with a hint of bittersweet.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Laughing wholeheartedly, the Knight shook her head. Aamoran was the more disciplined and composed of the two, while Hidatsa often acted on a whim, unpredictable as an ion storm. Still, they were quite a dynamic tandem; one was the cool rationalist, while the other empathized. It was peculiar to talk to Inyos without Mandan's wit to entertain the general public - Tionne could not help but to wonder whatever happened to the blond boy.

''That's true. You were always the polite one.'' she stated, snatching the bottle from him, then gathered the courage to ask - ''Where's Mandan?''
The question lingered in the air between them for a while, like bitter residue in a wine decanter.
''He didn't make it, did he?'' the redhead voiced somberly before rimming the neck of the bottle with her lips.
''Another reason to drink.'' she added, pouring golden liquid down her throat.

[Inyos Aamoran]

He didn't make it, did he?

The question cut Inyos like an icy knife. No, he did not, he heard his inner monologue stating, frankly, but the words didn't quite make it to his lips. He didn't make it, because I killed him.

Of course, things were far from that clear cut; far from that simple. The taint of the dark side had been involved, and that - as Master Yoda would no doubt have said - clouded everything. The battle flashed in his mind: that hideous, lifeless, lightless world; a duel lit only by the chilling glow of their lightsabers; Mandan's face in hideous green, filled with emotions that the dark side had twisted; her, the woman responsible -

Mentally he jolted, mind trying to flee inside his skin, away from the image of that woman's face. He had learned who she was much later: an innocent woman who had fallen prey to the whisperings of a powerful darksider from across the stars. She had followed his siren call, and found him on the darkly clouded world of Ord Ithil, only to find herself stranded. She had come to her senses and fought him off; struck him down, even. But in death, he had come more powerful, and his taint had posessed her; infected her like a virus.

A virus that - when Inyos, years later, defeated her - in turn infected him.

For ten years, Inyos had been trapped there. Ultimately, it was Mandan who saved him, from beyond the grave; and with the help of a Rogue, a Rebel, three Bounty Hunters and a Mandalorian, Inyos had been freed from that hideous world. In the meantime, the dark side had kept him preserved: preserved from the ravages of time; and from the icy grip of death.

Though, in the last regard, not for lack of Inyos' trying.

A sigh escaped Inyos, and he accepted the bottle for another drink. "About ten years ago, we managed to stumble into a trap set by a darksider. Mandan died; and I wound up spending a decade in a sort of stasis." He downed a mouthful. "Not much more to tell; your story sounds much cooler." He hesitated a moment, considering the irony of that adjective, given the carbon freeze involved. "No pun intended."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

The absence of a long-winded explanation was a clear sign Mandan's death was not something easily discussed. There was more to it, the Knight could tell by a few droplets of sweat forming on Aamoran's forehead and the time it took him to produce a coherent reply. For the time being, the subject was to be dropped; if Inyos would grow comfortable enough to talk about it, he knew Tionne would not only listen, but never tell another soul. After all, Inyos was the closest thing she had to a friend.

''How did you escape the Inquisitors?'' she inquired curiously, knowing both him and Mandan were far less experienced than Jedi who where slain first.
''I managed to survive for almost a year on the run; mostly avoided long arm of the law by tettering through the Outer Rim. I probably know every shady club in Hutt Space.''
Thanewulf lay comfortably on her side, pressing her cheek against her knuckle.
''This worked until they turned our own against us; Palpatine sent converted Watchmen after the remaining lot of Sentinels. They were given a choice - execution or cooperation. Turned out many were more selfish than a Jedi should be...'' the redhead trailed off, her free hand lifting the top slightly to reveal a scar across the ribs.
''Friends are not what they used to be, I guess...'' the Knight commented cynically, releasing the fabric to cover up healed burns.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inquisitors. Now there was another sore subject; though not perhaps as physically sore as it was for Tionne, if that scar was anything to go by. Even so, the shadowy "replacement" the Empire had concieved had left its mark on him in other ways; not least the memory of yet more of the people he'd let down since the Purge. There was Oa, of course: the woman Mandan had lost; the woman they'd both inadvertantly left behind; and the mother, Inyos had recently discovered, of Mandan's child. When they'd left Ord Ithil, Mandan's spirit had tasked Inyos with passing on a lightsaber from father to son; but despite his best efforts, he had yet to find any trace of Oa, or the child.

Then there was Lúka Jibral: the young boy that Inyos had taken under his wing. He vividly remembered the day when the Empire had caught up with them, and how he and Mandan had stood their ground to give the others time to escape. He remembered his instructions to Lúka - stay with the others; protect them - and remembered that little rebellious spark in Jibral that too much time with Mandan must have instilled. The boy had returned, not wanting to leave either Inyos or Mandan behind; not believing the brash talk of how they'd escaped from tighter spots before. He'd got the others to safety, and then he'd come back to do the same for them.

The poor child hardly knew what hit him. Execution or cooperation. Join us or die, he mused. Lúka never got that choice. Perhaps it was better that way.

How did you escape the Inquisitors? Tionne had ask. "I would hardly call what we did escaping," he answered, with a faint shrug. "We ran. We hid. Kept changing our locations; changing our names. We tried to remain one step ahead of them; but they were always behind us, some where." He paused for a beat. "Not all of us made it, in the end."

His lip curled into a faint smile, and a breath of laughter managed to escape. "Not exactly the cheeriest way to catch up on old times," he quipped, another swig taken from the bottle before he passed it back across to Tionne. He frowned, musing for a moment over what normal people might talk about. "Seen any good holomovies lately?"

[Tionne Thanewulf]

''Aamoran, don't pretend it's not there. It was, is and always will be.'' she scolded him upon his attempt of changing the subject, but both of them would feel at ease after voicing whatever bothered them - be it the death of a friend or betrayal of a fellow Jedi.
''Don't pretend we are normal and that this...state we are in is normal. Both of us stopped being normal the day our midichlorian numbers soared off the charts. We are Jedi, remember? And Jedi don't whine.''
Her words came as encouragement, a hand extended and placed on Inyos's shoulder, gripping it firmly in reassurance. Her head dipped upon establishing eye contact, eyes slightly narrowing in the half-darkness of this bunker she optimistically called her room.

''No more running, hiding, looking away from atrocities. We will make a stand. I promise you that.'' the Coruscanti-born Jedi voiced confidently with a nod.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Jedi don't whine.

No, Inyos thought back, taking the bottle once again, But apparently we do whiskey.

He snorted silently at his own subconscious joke; it took a moment for him to realise that, given Tionne's ancillary comment, his expression of humour might be misconstrued. "I'm sure we will," he agreed, adjusting his features into a somber mask. Or at least, we'll try.

The teachings of Master Yoda wandered through his mind. He briefly remembered a lightsaber training lesson he'd had as a youngling, when the aged and wise Jedi Master had scolded him for his pledge to attempt to implement his advice: something about doing or not doing. The young Inyos had adjusted his statement, substituting 'attempt' for 'endeavour'.

A shrewd command of language have you, young Padawan. Despite his youth at the time, the irony of being complimented on his linguistic skill by the grammatically jumbled Yoda had not been lost on him, and never failed to bring a hint of amusement to his mind.

He kept the amusement off his face however, and instead turned his mind and eyes back towards Tionne. "A noble sentiment," he conceeded, "But I am unconvinced as to the potential for success. There are far fewer of us than there were at the end of the war; and while the Imperial Stormtroopers are hardly as skilled and seasoned as the Clone Troopers of the Grand Army, there are the Inquisitors to contend with."

He shook his head, thinking back to all the various times he'd read of in the Jedi Archives when the Order had faced off against enemy empires led by Dark Jedi. The Galactic Empire that Palpatine had built reminded him far too much of the Sith Empires from history; but unlike those wars, the Jedi had the armies of the Republic to assist them. As noble and tenacious as the Alliance to Restore the Republic was, they still fell far short.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Hmh, yes, The Inquisitors - Thanewulf mused briefly, recalling her meeting with Atrapes back on her home planet. Perfectly aware she was threading a fine line between cunningness and treason, she weighted the words that followed carefully. Not because she did not trust Aamoran, but for the fact that a scant few Jedi resorted to unorthodoxy. Very few would understand in the end.

''I ran into one, an Inquisitor, whilst visiting Coruscant to buy that favourite blend of tobacco. He even took me to the Citadel, to question me.'' the redhead asserted, elevating her gaze from the floor. Tionne's hand slid off his shoulder, then raked through a bundle of ginger locks, pushing them away from her face.

''In the end, we just talked. Exchanged opinions - there was no torture, no use of force apart from some saber prickling in the very beginning. I think my indifference regarding my fate freaked him out. He must have expected an active hater of everything Imperial, yet encountered a wench nibbling on a pipe. Consequently, he let me go.''
Peering deeply into Inyos' sapphire orbs, she searched for a sign of hope.

''We need to change. The Jedi are expected to act in a certain way, say certain things. That needs to change. Only then there will be balance, restored.'' the Knight voiced, then reached for the bottle to rinse her mouth of half-truths uttered.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Inyos may not have been the most skilled practitioner of social interaction in the universe, but he did at least know a think or two about observing social interactions; knew enough to understand that there was a good deal Tionne was holding back.

He'd didn't press, though; she'd shown the kindness and curtosy to let him keep his secrets about Ord Ithil; and for now, he'd allow her the same with this particular saga. In time perhaps he'd discern the truth; but he'd long ago learned that patience was often a more fruitful approach in these instances, rather than persistance.

He couldn't help a slight quirk of a smile at the irony, of course, though he tried his best to hide it. "Ran into an Inquisitor while buying tobacco," he mused, fingers scrubbing idly at the stubble on his jaw as his hand covered his mouth. "I always suspected that smoking could kill you; but I did not expect it to attempt it with such dramatic flair."

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Wholeheartedly, Tionne laughed. Much time passed since her lips were grazed by the resonance of her own merriment, a very few select individuals being able to instigate such a reaction. Inyos Aamoran was one of them. A glint of fondness sparked in steel eyes as she composed herself once again, lightly coughing to clear her throat.

''You've been missed, Inyos. More than you could ever imagine.'' the redhead admitted earnestly, hiding behind a drapery of ginger locks when her gaze dropped to the floor.

''Have you ever considered abandoning the Jedi Code? It's nothing but a skeleton of a long-extinct animal now. Feels a bit...pointless to worship it.'' she said out of the blue, knowing of Aamoran's orthodox views. In a way, she opted to palpate whether he lived a life of a Jedi all those years following the Purge.

[Inyos Aamoran]

Worship?

That was hardly the adjective that Inyos would have used to describe his adherance to the tennets of the Jedi Order. Worship conjured thoughts of religious fanaticism, and while he was certainly devoted to the Order; to it's rules; and to the Force, he would never have classified in a manner so associated with extremism.

But her question struck a nerve. On Ord Ithil he had endured eight long years when that question had never been far from his mind. Before that, even, while they had been on the run from the Jedi, Mandan had lost the strict adherance to the Jedi way that Inyos had maintained. Mandan had not fallen, and yet, he had not been truely Jedi; he had stepped into the greyness between, and had somehow managed to find balance, and peace.

And love, Inyos thought, mind straying to Oa. A Jedi shall not know love.

For those years since the Purge, Mandan had been happy. He had found in one person a purpose for being that Inyos had lacked ever since Lúka - the young boy he had taken as his protégé - had been taken from him by the Inquisitors. His role as master to his padawan had been the last vestage of his Jedi life that had remained: without it, he was little more than a Force-wielding excentric, and he did not belong in the galaxy.

Perhaps Mandan's way then - to throw away adherance to the Jedi Code - was the best choice.

And yet, Mandan is not here.

When the dark side had first affected them both on Ord Ithil, it had been Inyos' tight grip on the Code that had kept him free. Not so for poor Mandan. His love had proven weakness, and the dark side had gripped him; twisted him into its instrument, and turned him against Inyos. Attacked, Inyos had been forced to defend himself.

I always was the superior swordsman.

The arrogance stung in Inyos' mind, and he chastised himself. There was pride there - a step to the dark side - and as he had stood as the one remaining after he and Mandan clashed swords, he had taken another. He had struck down the woman who had broken Mandan's spirit in cold blood; and then had tried to end the life of Mandan's killer as well.

Alas, the dark side had intervened to thwart his efforts to end his life; and eight years had passed in lonely isolation, its wretched blackness not allowing him the sweet embrace of an ending. The ordeal had twisted and broken his mind; and yet the teachings of the order had caged the beast, and kept it from assuming control.

"Considered?" he asked, echoing Tionne's question. "On more than one occasion."