Remembrance of Things Past

His question left the Knight silent for a moment or two, as she mused, reaching deeply within her entity for a truthful answer. Full lips stretched into a thin line as her gaze grew more distant, contemplative.
''It is something I've spent my entire life trying to find out, Barton. There are many ways to reach our destination, many roads we can take. The Force simply tells us how to walk the one which we choose, it does not choose for us.'' the redhead discoursed prudently, her words augmented with an affirmative headshake. Still, any attempts to verbalize something even she did not fully grasp would be futile. Experience was only a milestone on the road to wisdom.

''I always wanted to be myself - a person of principles and beliefs, but also of great awareness. My love towards comprehension and understanding surpassed even my dedication to the Code...''
A short pause followed, used to reinstate her focus on the Healer sitting at her side. Pupils widened in faint lighting, gray eyes acclimatized to finally make out more than just contours of Henning's rugged face.
''I am intended to search for truth, the mightiest weapon and the most potent of remedies. Such is my purpose.''

Though the same principles of nobility had shaped both Tionne and Barton's early education, when Henning looked inside himself and searched for the longing to match Tionne's, he found nothing. No mystic calling or undeniable need to know the universe and its secrets. The absence of it did not surprise him, it was nothing new, but it did make him wonder – with another pensive glance at his hands – why the Force would choose someone so commonplace for such an extraordinary talent.

“The galaxy could do with a healthy dose of truth,” he said after a time, thinking of the Empire and the lies it had cemented within the minds of so many.

''Sometimes people do not want to know the truth. Ignorance is bliss, they say.'' the gingerhead continued his trail of thought, steering it in a quite different direction. She figured her words might have sounded utopian and unrealistic, ethereal compared to everyday troubles a man like Henning juggled with. As purely conformist view of the world, fate-induced determinism had little place in the sanctum of Tionne's inner universe; nevertheless, the Force provided a nudge in the right direction now and then that so often defied laws of probability. An individual with far more insight and intuitive grasp of the bigger picture would surely observe a pattern, but Thanewulf was far from such providence. Still, she exerted efforts to understand.

''Have a little faith in yourself, Henning. A shield is not a shield if it is not used for defence, an antidote is not an antidote if it's not used to counteract poison. We all might be tools, but purpose is a matter of choice. To interact or stay aside - both choices are equally correct. But I will be there to support you whenever you make yours, Force allow it.'' Tionne asserted, allowing for a brief glance to turn into an enchanted stare, steel-grey eyes mirroring the dim gleam of a silver nebula the vessel so casually floated through.

Barton listened, as the years had taught him too. He let his eyes become unfocused, looking out beyond the bunk to the starry expanse of space. It was easy to listen to Tionne, though; like everything about her, her voice had an ethereal quality to it. His fingertips twitched again, on some unconscious reflex, and Henning felt that the Jedi Knight's hand was still laid in his palm. How many times had his hand been squeezed by someone seeking comfort or reassurance, by a patient hoping to anchor themselves into the security and well-being he stood for? It was a rare time when Barton felt the same sense of uncertainty or loss of control. Rarer still when he had sought someone to grasp hold of, a hand to help guide him through the darkness.

“I'm not sure standing aside is an option I - any of us - have anymore.”

A faint nod acknowledged the Healer's statement, the Knight fully aware of circumstances that prompt for immediate choices. Free will was hindered for all servants of the Force as adherence to the Code committed Jedi to a more proactive role in the galaxy. In the light of his former words, the Coruscanti forged the sagacious remark that followed.

''The morality we pride ourselves with does not allow us to be mere spectators. Thus the members of the Order have often engaged in galaxy-wide conflicts not only as negotiators but also as military strategists. An oxymoron of sorts - given how Jedi are supposed to be advocates of peace. Still, it was impossible to decline the crying call of the waning Republic. In this sense - they became servants of the Republic, not the Force. The oversized, bureaucracy-infested societal construction proclaimed democratic, but very far from it in practice. The Jedi oversaw the fact politicians had no strict code of conduct they have sworn allegiance to. Politics is a mindfield where even the most provident and cunning risk tripping over. So yes - we should be wary whom we trust.'' the redhead discoursed, lifting her hand off Barton's palm, elevating it and gently pressing her index finger against his forehead.

''Do not let your emotions, or even the Force cloud your rationality. If we think too much of grand fates and prophecies, we fail to perceive the obvious, minute signs of a catastrophe waiting to happen...'' she said, tracing the tip of her finger across his temple to flick a droplet of sweat off -
''...but I am lecturing far too much. I didn't mean to barge in on you like this just to give a speech. The truth is - I just wanted to see you.''

Retrieving her hand into her personal space once again, Tionne pursed her lips as her head dipped, gaze pasting to the floor. A few loose locks swayed over to cover her face, palms gripping idly on the edge of the bunk bed she sat on.
''You are the only person I know around here. I guess I was lonely.'' the redhead admitted timidly, hiding behind a drapery that was her sun-kissed copper hair.

Talk of politics and bureaucracies was almost all lost on Barton. He understood the political machines of the galaxy were lumbering things, apt to belch out more pollution than they eradicated. Fates and prophecies, too, seemed alien to him. Whenever he tried to picture himself as part of some grand order of things, it seemed so improbable. It was not modesty at work, just sheer human incomprehension, the inability to grasp the scope of it all. Rubbing a palm against his brow, Henning shook his head and gave a mental shrug. At that moment, Tionne reached across to him, her touch on him for only a moment.

“The truth is - I just wanted to see you.” His brow furrowed a little. “You are the only person I know around here. I guess I was lonely.”

His first reaction was to be surprised, but it made sense. He was the first one she'd seen on waking, the only one – to his knowledge – from the old temple that she'd reunited with. He studied her, the timid curve of her back and the shy-away eyes hidden from view. Lips pressing tightly together for a moment, Barton considered reaching out to her.

“You're welcome here any time, Tionne.”

The faintest of chuckles left her lips, as Tionne peered at him from behind the tapestry of her red hair. His mildness was enticing, reminding Thanewulf of her former Master, a persona she grew to love and respect over the years.
‘’Be wary of what you offer, Henning.’’ she warned in a taunting tone – ‘’First you express your hospitality, next thing you will see is me arranging furniture and redecorating this place.’’

A nudge followed, softly landing under his ribs. Tionne flipped hair backwards, her face now fully exposed.
‘’What I was trying to say, though my endless ranting, is… I need you, Barton Henning.’’ A pause ensued, as Tionne turned to him, her hands finding their way to his shoulders, gray irises searching his.
‘’It is I who needs you, not the Alliance, or the Republic, or democracy… The sole thing we have in this world is each other. And this meager number of people we could trust. Can I count on you?’’ she asked, look in her eyes mirroring the sincerity of her words.

“I...”

What had seemed a casual need for companionship suddenly seemed to have taken on a greater weight. He wondered what depths of loneliness she felt, cut off from the world she had known with far greater severity that Henning himself. The years had given him time to grow, to adjust, to accept. Tionne had emerged from carbon-freezing into a bleak future, twenty five years of the erosion of democracy heaping onto her shoulders in a single load. Without a doubt, Henning did not envy her, though he certainly admired and respected the dignity and grace she had exhibited in spite of it all.

Barton nodded faintly, and fixed her gaze to hers.

“You can trust me. By the Force, I promise that.”

A broad smile appeared on the Knight's lips, pearly white teeth showing. Her eyes exhibited a peculiar lustre, one to be seen where there was still hope. Squeezing his shoulders, Tionne rubbed them affectionately, much warmth in her gesture.

''Because I can't do this without you. I am only human, Barton.'' the Knight finalized, rising from her seat. Her hands trailed up his frame, over his neck to cup his cheeks; bending forwards, Tionne imprinted the softest of kisses on his forehead out of sheer appreciation.

''Thank you. Now I must go and find myself a bed to sleep in tonight.'' she said meekly, trying to peel away her gaze from him, but failing to do so. Thus she lingered before him for a few moments two long, barely being able to remove her hands from his cheeks.