Healing Hands

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Lazy lids parted, letting faint, flickering neon light into a dilated pupil that started into the dark ceiling. Tionne barely managed to lift her hand and rub the bleariness out of her tired eyes, yet the fatigue would not go falter. Her entire body felt numb, as if having slept in a single position too long. Instinctively, her fingers trickled down her torso to her belt, tapping against leather in search of her trusted weapon. A dampened grunt left the Knight's lips upon realizing her saber was nowhere to be found, a sure sign the Jedi raiding party was captured.
Narrowing her eyes, Tionne peered into the relative darkness of the room, blurred vision allowing her to see nothing more than a game of shadows and light.

"Damn,Rossos must have drugged me." the Coruscanti cursed inwardly as she tried to devise a way of rolling off the bed she found herself on.
Bed...
Palm slid over coarse woolen blanket under her, the texture of the fabric far to rustic for an Imperial lab facility. Pressing against the bedstead, Thanewulf attempted to prop herself up on one arm. Even before she managed to keep herself in an upright position, sharp pain pulsated in her right shoulder, almost knocking her unconscious.
"Aaaaaah!" moaned the Knight, slumping back into bed.

[Barton Henning]

“Easy now. No sudden movements.”

A hand settled onto Tionne's shoulder, providing the Jedi with some gentle encouragement. Through her blurred vision, the Jedi Knight saw a silhouette coming into view, as Barton Henning stretched across her bed to the wall-mounted glow-lamp alongside it. Dim light began to spread through the room, gradually growing brighter.

“How's that on your eyes? Too bright? You've been out for a while.”

Barton stood back and turned away for a moment, taking stock of the limited medical supplies he had to hand.

“I've got some Symoxin, Comaren and Perigen here. You allergic to anything?”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

"Just human stupidity." came the sardonic reply as the Knight gritted her teeth, the pain from her shoulder still echoing through her nervous system. The Force provided little soothing effect; every time she tried to tap into it, it slipped out of reach, like soap under a showerstream.

The light of the lamp poked her eyeballs like a thousand Kaminoan darts; Tionne blinked, then narrowed her eyes, trying to reclaim visual focus. The rugged contours of Henning's torso delineated through the haze, the mixture of fresh cologne and light sweat betraying his presence. A being of sharp senses, Thanewulf sniffled like a pet rodent, wiggling her snub nose.

"Just gimme anything, Henning. And after that, a bottle of rum, whiskey or whatever poison you are hiding under your bed." said the redhead, letting a roguish smile curve her lips.

[Barton Henning]

“There we go - you sound like yourself again already.”

There was a smile in Henning's voice as he turned back to the med-kit. He picked out an adhesive patch coated with Perigen, a mild non-narcotic painkiller, and applied it to Tionne's bare shoulder as carefully as he could. She had plenty of bruises and a handful of burns, where it looked like a blaster bolt had just clipped her, but nothing life-threatening.

“Whoever you picked a fight with.. I wouldn't recommend going back for seconds. Consider that doctors orders.”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Despite Henning's efforts to apply the patch as gently as possible, another surge of pain rocketed right through Tionne's sensory array. She inhaled through her teeth and held her breath, waiting for the stinging to dissipate. The chemical agents and antibiotics would prevent the wound from infecting and speed up the healing process. Unable to call upon the Force to accelerate tissue repair, Thanewulf was frailer and more vulnerable than other Jedi; ironically, it never stopped her from taking lead in battle.

"When you have a fully trained, lightsaber-wielding Inquisitor on one side and a platoon of elite Stormtroopers on the other side, it's hard to decide which way to turn, isn't it?" the redhead asserted, gaze setting on Barton as she watched him meddle with the supplies - "I'm alive. And so is Serena Laran. It means I made the right choice."

A few idle, wordless moments passed as Tionne glanced down, the voice in which she spoke void of her trademark cynicism.
"I could've used a hand in there, you know." she admitted timidly, raising her gaze to meet his.

[Barton Henning]

Henning had visited Serena Laran, briefly, at her bed in the Challenger's med-bay. It was clear that her time on Coruscant had left what might be an indelible mark on the Jedi Master, but Barton couldn't help but feel relieved to have her and the rest of the mission party back and largely intact. “You did good,” he agreed, easing down into the chair at Tionne's bedside as he paused to tear open another Perigen sachet with his teeth. “I don't think you could have done any better, even with me and my legendary lightsaber skills on hand.”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

"They would be even more legendary if you actually picked up a saber and sparred me from time to time. Not that I would be a formidable sparring partner to a man with such legendary lightsaber skills." the Knight retorted in jest, flashing him a brief, albeit appreciative smile. His wit was remarkable at times, especially given the dark times they found themselves in. A truly likable feat in the Knightfall's captain, the Knight remarked internally.

"The Jedi are rejoicing over their victory and Serena's return to the collective. I'll let them enjoy for the time being. A drop of happiness in an ocean of sorrow." said the Coruscanti rather poetically, crumpling the pillow under her neck to elevate her head a bit.

"All too easy..." the redhead began, then decided to keep her thoughts to herself for the moment - "...but time will tell."
"Nonetheless, the offer stands. I will always make time for you." assured Thanewulf with a nod.

[Barton Henning]

“I guess we have to take our victories wherever we can get them, however small.”

The offer of help brought a brief smile to Barton's face. Of all his skills as a Jedi, lightsaber combat had never been Henning's forte. His technique was passable but unlike many of his clan-mates, he hadn't been desperate to become a Jedi Battlemaster. Now, as then, Barton knew in his heart that he had a different role to play.

“How did it feel, being back on Coruscant?”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

A soft murmur of acknowledgment followed Barton's words, as the Knight decided to drop the subject. This wasn't nor the time nor the place to discuss such matters; if Thanewulf had intelligence which had the potential to affect the entire Order, she would eventually bring it up before the Council, voice her doubts and fears before Jedi far wiser than herself. Ironically enough, the redhead trusted Barton more than any of esteemed individuals occupying council seats; unlike them, the good doctor seemed immune to illusions of grandeur remaining from times bygone. The Jedi were now in the slums, together with those who they fought before.

"Still feels like home." she said after a moment's thought, affectionately smiling towards Henning - "Whether we like it or not, Coruscant further flourished under the Imperial scepter. It might not be our idea of a civilized society, but everywhere you look, there is order. Order being something I so rarely saw in the waning years of the Republic. After chaos, order is a relief."

Her lower lip ceased trembling as Tionne caught it between her teeth, the entirety of her body suddenly pervaded with shivers.
"They say home is where one's heart is. Well, mine is here. But space is so cold sometimes."

[Barton Henning]

“Maybe it was because I was just a kid, but I can't remember the chaos on Coruscant. I guess they didn't let us out of the temple much, back then.”

It was strange, to feel nostalgic for somewhere that Barton had known so little of. As an Initiate, he had barely left the Temple complex. As a Padawan, he had followed his Master on scant few missions off-world – but his first real encounter with the city that never slept had been on the eve of the Jedi Purge, when he and a number of other young Jedi had fled to what they hoped would be the safety of the city's labyrinthine streets.

Henning's eyes flicked back up to Tionne and, seeing her shiver, he reached down under the bed and pulled out a wool blanket, which he began to unfold. “It can be... I hope we'll find a place to set down soon. There's only so long we can all stand to be on the run.”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

The fabric of the blanket felt coarse, abrading against Tionne's impeccable porcelain complexion. Grabbing the ends of the woolen covering, she pulled it over herself and further sunk into Barton's bunk bed.

"You have no idea how much I crave fresh air, the greens of nature and sunlight. Almost forgot how spring smells like, or how it feels to be awaken by first light of dawn. All of this feels like one endless, very very dark night..." she admitted in a melancholic tone, full lips drawing to a dainty smile. The pain in her shoulder slowly began to wear off as the ingredients of the patch made their way through her bloodstream. Tensed muscles relaxed, eliciting a deep sigh from the fiery redhead. She then turned her head askew, pressing one cheek against the side of the pillow. That way her gaze was fixed on Henning, glassy eyes observing him in all his casualness.

"In a way, I envy you. You experienced life as one of the common folk. The luxury of attachment, emotional indulgence, a test so many Jedi did not pass. No chains to tie you down. And yet, you kept your moral compass. A rare feat in men, Henning... one that I learned to admire." said the Coruscanti, retaining the lenient smile.

[Barton Henning]

“I can't say I got up to a whole lot of indulgence on Cloud City,” Barton admitted. “If anything, I think I was busier running the clinic than I'd ever been at the temple,” he added, with a small smile. You could take the boy out of the Jedi Order, but you couldn't take the Order out of the boy.

“My ship makes planet-fall from time to time, when our mission calls for it. You're welcome aboard, if you ever want to get away from the convoy – though, depending on the destination, I can't promise any fresh air or green, green balmgrass.”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

Tionne offered an appreciative nod, now seriously considering to take up on Barton's offer. Time off would help her clear her mind and gain a new perspective, a much needed leverage when aiming to teach again. Akasha was so different from her former student, far more impulsive and abrupt, more difficult to contain within the restrictions of the Jedi Code. Thanewulf had yet to devise an adequate method of hammering down a few simple rules with the occasionally opportunistic feline.

"At least I'd have a healing hand nearby, in case something happens." she ascertained, smile gradually fading away - "However, I fear medications won't simply do it for me any more. Supplies are scarce. Time needed to heal is not the time I have at my disposal."
A few quiescent moments passed, the brief pause ending in a disheartened sigh.
"The wounded one is the weakest. It is known that the pack is only as strong as its weakest member."

[Barton Henning]

Henning's expression turned a shade grim. The bacta shortage within the Alliance was being felt keenly on each front of the Galactic Civil War and the Wheel, in spite of its precious cargo, was low on the priority list for shipments. They were expected to keep their noses clean and to deal with the absence of bacta by just making sure that they didn't need it. One trip to the mess hall was enough to confirm how the convoy's starfighter pilots felt about that order.

The prospect that he might, one day, have no other option than to rely on the Force again to heal someone had not escaped Barton's mind. He had called upon the healing powers of the Force just once on Cloud City, when Mu Satach had stumbled into his clinic with severe burns. Though decades had passed since he'd called himself a Jedi, remembering his training was like riding a swoop-bike; some things just never left you.

“You'd be safe with us. Support services freighters don't get into a lot of scrapes – but I'd patch you up, if anything went awry. You can count on that.”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

"I can't stay aboard Knightfall forever, only until the wound heals and I can hold a weapon again." retorted the redhead upon pressing against the padding of the bed to erect herself to sit. She jammed the pillow behind the small of her back for support and leaned against the durasteel wall, the blanket slipping off to reveal a ragged black tank-top underneath. Judging by the number of ruptures and tears in the fabric, the Coruscanti seemingly received quite a beating.

"Well... aren't you gonna offer me a drink, Captain? Where are your manners?" the Knight jested, sporting a roguish smile. Her pale features brightened a notch at the mention of alcohol, the smuggled goodness always finding its way to Henning's ship. Who needed bacta when there was whiskey?

[Barton Henning]

“A drink?” Barton lifted an eyebrow, an expression of mingled surprise and scepticism spreading over his features. Though it seemed an unusual request, he didn't doubt for a moment that it was just the kind of suggestion Tionne would make, regardless of her physical state. “There's a bottle of Chandrilan brandy on board somewhere,” he added, pressing his palms against his thighs as he pushed himself to his feet. “It's not what I'd prescribe ordinarily, but since we're so low on ordinary medical supplies.. I suppose it'll do just fine. Anything else I can get you?”

[Tionne Thanewulf]

"I'll tell you what I don't need. A glass." the redhead retorted, smile widening to show pearly white teeth. The ache in her shoulder intensified; the right combination of alcohol and painkillers would assure a pleasant blackout, one that would last long enough for the wounds to start healing. The severity of the injury probably called for a surgical intervention, but as Barton said, medical supplies were getting low. He did everything in his power to prevent the wound from infecting, Thanewulf knew that. A silent moment of appreciation passed between them when the Knight waved dismissively -

"Go. Fetch the darn whiskey." she said with a headshake - "When you come back, you could bandage me up. Just to keep things in place."
Once Henning left, Tionne closed her eyes and leaned backwards, letting her mind go blank. Hardly in the state to meditate, she simply inhaled and exhaled at a regular pace until Barton would return.

[Barton Henning]

Contrary to the redheads request, Barton returned with a pair of tin cups in one hand and the Chandrilan brandy in the other. The bottle was two thirds empty, or one third full depending on which way you look at it. He pushed aside what was cluttering up the cabinet at her bedside and set the glass and bottle down. Pouring himself a finger, he hovered the bottle over the second cup and looked at Tionne with an expectant lift of his eyebrows.

[Tionne Thanewulf]

"Is that all you got?" she quizzed, eyeing the almost empty bottle. Somewhat disheartened by lack of alcohol in plenitude she imagined a few moments earlier, the redhead erected herself to sit in Barton's bed, back pressing against cool durasteel wall.

"Wow, we are really low on supplies. Guess I'll have to heal fast and restock as soon as possible." Tionne said with a smile, nodding appreciatively - "I'll have as much as you are having."

Soon enough, the potent aroma of the beverage Barton provided was scorching Tionne's throat. The brew was, without a doubt, from the Outer Rim. Smuggled goods, the best kind, Thanewulf mused as she peered into the dark liquid before setting the can down by the bed.

"You know, in a way, you remind me of my master. He was a healer...of sorts. An explorer and drifter. And I always felt like he never wanted to be a Jedi, like he didn't choose the Force, but the Force chose him." she admitted earnestly and graced Henning with a balmy smile.