Leaving Isolation Behind

[Darron Wraith]

Cardea Medical Center​

Sullust Orbit​

SNAP-HISS!​

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Amethyst suddenly illuminated the small quarters, the smell of ozone flooding the tiny space. A steady hum, mingled with the sound of heavy breathing. The thermostat was set to a comfortable 72 degrees, yet sweat fell from his brow and onto the durasteel floor. His chiseled physique illuminated, sweat covering the entirety of it, the trousers he wore to bed were thoroughly drenched. Adjusting his grip in the attack stance for Vaapad, that was when he finally heard the small servomotors inside his prosthesis. Azure eyes looked at the construct that replaced his right arm and forearm, and then realization suddenly began to fall upon him like a calm, summer breeze. The superconducting loop fell away, and the adrenal response slowed as his muscles relaxed.

Darkness fell over the room, Wraith coming out of his stance and deactivating his lightsaber. His breathing began to slow after a few moments, his senses coming to him as he joined with the Force. Emptying the cup that was himself, and allowing the Force in let his senses cover the entire station. Within his Field of Responsibility, the Jedi Master could feel the sense of peace, he was in a true safe haven. Letting the electruum plated hilt rest on his desk, his footsteps carried him to the window where he looked out into the void after opening the blinds. A distinct click echoed in the confined space as his durasteel hand came to rest on the window, his blonde locks obstructing his view as he rested his head against the window. Darron let the energy of every being on the station wash over him.

Get it together, Wraith.

“Lights on.”

His voice was raspy, as if it hadn’t been used in days. Pupils dilated and refocused after adjusting, revealing the spartan room. Showering and getting dressed in relative silence, he barely paid attention to all the scars that littered his frame. Each one a story, some of victory and others of loss. Quickly looking himself over, he put on a simple grey long sleeve shirt with black pants and matching boots. Wraith threw a leather jacket on to hide his frame, while covering his metallic hand in a glove. Looking himself over, he wiped the sleep out of his eyes and off the long scar on his left cheek, the leather of the glove cool to his cheek.

His greatest wounds were those of the spirit, for they could never truly heal.

Realizing it wasn’t even breakfast time, the man that everyone knew as “Lee” went about the usual maintenance tasks he busied himself with. Darron had taken the position so that he could stay close if something truly important happened he could be there for the Alliance, while allowing him to stay anonymous. Wraith worked the next few hours in silence, waving at those patients and the medical personnel who were quick to rise. None on board needed to know that he left periodically to help those in need, or that they secretly had a former GrandMaster of the Jedi Order on board who was just as damaged as they were. Everyone on board simply knew him as a friendly face who liked to be left alone most of the time, and spent his afternoons alone.

So Wraith thought nothing of it as he ate his breakfast finally, even if his Field of Responsibility was trying to forewarn him.

@Liln Imperieuse

 

[Liliane]

"The recent battles have been tedious, giving us here a lot of work," one of the medical personnel said. The two women - she and Lilin - were walking towards the little café to eat a breakfast. The woman was not really a doctor, more like an overseer. Lilin didn't exactly know what work she did there, but she did know the woman was not doing the bloody work herself.

"I believe in that, yes," the Jedi Master replied. "Many of our people dead, many more injured." She had been given the task to go to the Cardea Medical Centre that was orbiting the Alliance's capital planet Sullust, mainly to check on the work they were doing, and to ask if they needed any help. The New Jedi Order had Jedi Healers, so help was really the least they could offer.

"I hear Coruscant was really bloody for civilians," the overseer said. She had definitely not been in the battle, Lilin could tell. "The One Sith massacred their own people, is it so?" Massacre was a huge understatement of what the Sith were and what they had done.

"We could say so. But it was much worse than that."

The two made it to the café. Lilin couldn't really even remember the last time she had been to a hospital, not even speaking of being in a hospital's café. The food, she heard, was good in this station, but she could never be too sure about such rumours.

"You are an ambassador from the Alliance. I am sure we can prepare your breakfast on the house, so to say."

"Thank you, but I fear I cannot accept that. I am merely doing my duty."

She didn't have eyes for anything else around her, even though she could feel something was wrong. There was a certain Force presence in the station. Something she was not too familiar with.

[ [member="Darron Wraith"] ]