Pt.2 (The Aurelia Event)
The First Incident
Later archived as: The Aurelia Event
Classification changed twice before sealing.
She was fourteen.
Assigned to Jedi Healing Hall Theta, Coruscant.
No combat. No fieldwork. Just observation and empathy exercises. The safest place the Order had.
That was the mistake.
The Patient
They brought in a Knight pulled from a border skirmish. Alive. Stable. His injuries were internal. Force trauma. The kind healers treated every day.
Aurelia was instructed only to observe.
"Do not reach," the healer told her gently.
"Do not connect. Just feel the rhythm of the room."
She nodded. Hands folded. Perfect posture. Red hair braided neatly down her back.
She felt the Knight's pain anyway.
Not as sensation.
As gravity.
The Contact
The Knight screamed.
Not aloud.
In the Force.
The sound punched through Aurelia's chest like a hammer through glass.
She gasped. One hand lifted instinctively, fingers curling as if to catch something falling.
The healer turned sharply.
"Padawan, don't—"
Too late.
The Force surged into Aurelia like blood rushing into a severed limb.
Her pupils dilated.
The lights dimmed.
Medical instruments began to hum, then whine, then overload.
The Wrong Kind of Healing
Aurelia did what she had been taught.
She pulled the trauma out of the Knight.
All of it.
Pain. Fear. Neural scarring. Residual rage. Every unprocessed echo of violence.
It didn't disperse.
It went into her.
Her veins lit up under her skin, pale gold, branching rapidly. Her breath stuttered. Blood seeped from her tear ducts, glowing faintly as it ran.
The Knight went still.
Monitors flatlined.
For half a second, everyone thought she had killed him.
Then he inhaled.
Clean.
Unscarred.
Completely healed.
The Overload
Aurelia staggered backward.
"No," she whispered. "It's too much."
The healer reached for her.
The Force exploded outward.
Not violently.
Selectively.
Every being in the room was shoved to their knees by pressure alone. Droids crumpled. Walls cracked in spiderweb fractures.
Aurelia screamed as the stolen trauma tried to escape her body all at once.
She wasn't bleeding pain.
She was bleeding experience.
Memories not hers flashed through the room like heat mirages. Battle. Fire. Screams. Death.
Several healers vomited.
One fainted.
The Knight began sobbing, overwhelmed by sudden clarity of what he had been freed from.
The Council Feels It
Masters across the Temple turned their heads simultaneously.
Not sensing darkness.
Not sensing light.
Sensing a disturbance with weight.
Three Council members arrived within moments.
They stopped at the threshold.
Aurelia hovered inches off the ground, back arched, hair lifting as if underwater. Her eyes were open but unfocused. Green threaded with gold.
The Force around her had nowhere to go.
She was full.
Master Yedrin spoke quietly.
"She's acting as a reservoir."
Another whispered, voice tight,
"No. Reservoirs have limits."
Aurelia's voice broke through the pressure, small and terrified.
"Please take it back."
The Collapse
They tried.
They reached for her through the Force.
What they touched was not a conduit.
It was a fault line.
The moment they applied pressure, Aurelia's body convulsed. Light burst from her skin in blinding flashes. She collapsed mid-air, hitting the floor hard enough to crack stone.
The stored trauma discharged violently.
Every Force-sensitive in the hall felt it burn through them like ice.
Aurelia went into cardiac arrest.
Twice.
Aftermath
- The Knight survived, fully healed
- Four healers required mind-recovery therapy
- One Master was temporarily severed from the Force for weeks
- Aurelia remained unconscious for nine days
When she woke, she was restrained.
Not physically.
Force dampeners ringed the bed.
She noticed immediately.
Her voice was calm when she asked,
"Am I sick?"
No one answered.
The Council's Realization
In private session, the conclusion was unanimous and unspoken before it was spoken aloud.
She does not heal like a Jedi.
She does not channel like a Jedi.
She absorbs.
One Master said quietly,
"If she ever stops giving the pain back…"
Another finished the thought.
"…there will be nothing left of her."
They did not expel her.
They did something worse.
They began designing ways to manage her.
The Sentence That Changed Everything
Recorded in a sealed addendum, written by a senior healer:
And for the first time, the Council understood:
She was not a student.
She was a containment problem.
