Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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Soporose

Soporose; (ad.) characterized by abnormally deep sleep.

Aryn Teth


Sublevels of The Citadel, Golbah City, Geonosis, Arkanis Sector, The Outer Rim Territories
Attn: [member="Srina Talon"]

Enough time had passed that the scrambling had stopped. From being pulled from the rubble to the initial first aid and all the way back to Geonosis, Aryn had been surrounded by doctors, healers, droids and all manner of personnel who had sought to assess and treat him. It was impressive just how much effort the personnel seemed to be going to in order to help him, had he been conscious for any of it - he might have reasoned that it was more due to who his wife was than any other reason. There was one thing everyone knew quite clearly about the Confederacy - the sorrow or wrath of Srina Talon was something to be feared, and clearly, these doctors understood that wrath would be theirs to deal with if they allowed her husband to die.

Yet, even days later, it was becoming clear that all that the medical staff in the Citadel had exhausted what they were capable of doing for Aryn. Bacta was by all accounts a marvel for its ability to promote healing, but it was not capable of miracles. For days, Aryn had remained suspended in a tank, taken out only briefly each day for monitoring and other necessary surgeries to remove shrapnel, but the worst of his injuries remained, and it was beginning to dawn on the doctors what the reality of the situation was, one they were only now starting to explain to [member="Srina Talon"] with a clear hint of hesitation.

"To put it plainly, Exarch - even if he remained in the tank, there's no way we can know that his injuries would fully heal. He will survive certainly, but what we have access to here is just too limited for this level of trauma." A chart of scans was shown to the Echani exarch. Aryn's spine had been shattered, as had his shoulders and most of the bones in his arms. His left femur had snapped, his nerve-endings had been severely damaged and a number of organs punctured and damaged by shrapnel or by the sheer force of the explosion that had rocked him. "It's a miracle simply that he's still alive, I'm no Jedi or Sith, but I guess that must be due to his connection to the force literally holding him together after the explosion. We can keep him here comfortably until he's back to consciousness, but I am sorry ma'am, we just don't have the equipment to fully restore him."

Members of the Silver Lotus had been on hand to heal Aryn when he had first been injured, their healing had proven instrumental at closing some of the worst of his injuries at the time and ensuring he hadn't bled to death on the way back to Golbah, but even they had expressed this sentiment to Srina already. The doctor's words were simply a reiteration, a kind of nail in the coffin. There was of course still that possibility, no one seemed to dare suggest to the Echani that her husband was beyond saving, the solution just seemed to lay far out of their own reach.

Whatever solution there was, it was likely to be drastic.
 
Tag: [member="Aryn Teth"]
Location: The Citadel [Sub-Levels]

Her head felt like it was trapped in a fog. Perhaps, it was the concussion. Or the pain medication. Or the aching sense of loss that permeated her soul to the point where it felt like poison. The young woman wheezed, from lungs that were still damaged from smoke, and pressure, while the doctors watched on nervously. They had hoped that with the surprising return of the Vicelord her mood might improve. Didn’t someone coming back to life constitute as a miracle?

Half of her face was hidden by a porcelain mask. Beneath it, skin had sloughed off, while the rest had been scraped away to allow it to heal properly with bacta bandages. Permacrete slabs had ground against tender flesh when they fell. If it weren’t for [member="Voph"]? She would have been dead. The pain that went through her better half, despite the importance of her talks with [member="Sankt Yora"], had left her paralyzed. She could feel nothing but his own aching hell.

Then, there was emptiness. No Master. No lover.

Everything she fought for as of late seemed determined to abandon her. Seemed determined to die. Her sister. [member="Darth Tacitus"]. Who next? [member="Adron Malvern"]?

She waved the scans out of her face. She didn’t want to see the state that Aryn was in. Floating, mindless, like a dead goldfish in a bowl. “We have the best equipment, the best technology, in the Southern Systems. What more can you need?”, the Echani almost growled out, tearing her eyes from the bacta tank, and pinning them on the medical professional before her. “What exactly are you saying to me?”

Srina stepped forward. Her eyes darkened. Silver became gold, as they had so many times before, and corruption began to turn the skin under her eyes a mottled yellow. Her veins began to stand out unnaturally. Rage poured fourth, wrath, and the doctor would suddenly find his body yanked toward the ceiling. The others stumbled back, gazes alight with fear, while the lead on the assignment was suddenly splayed out as if to be crucified.

“After all this…”, she trailed off, tones dangerously low, while the doctor struggled to breathe. Her hand tightened beneath the folds of her dress, and clearly, began to shake as her anger made itself real. “You mean to say that he will die?”

“Exarch! Please, calm yourself!”

“If Aryn Teth dies—You will all die. Slowly.”, her head snapped toward the individual that spoke and her empty expression left little untold. Her fierce anger could not be seen. Only emptiness. A lack of empathy, a lack of reason, and a complete lack of humanity. “I am calm.”

“Tell me that this man cannot be saved one more time…Just one…And then I will give you a reason to speak. Until then—Find a way.”

Srina let go of the doctor, who hit the floor with a resounding splat, and a cry. No doubt he’d broken something. Perhaps his nose. The white-haired woman didn’t feel it. Didn’t, couldn’t care. The Darkside flowed through her now, like a river, and it would not be stopped. Aryn…Her Aryn—Could not be allowed to abandon her. It was he who forced her to feel. Who brought these emotions into her otherwise simple, uncomplicated, life.

It was he who had assured her that her affections were not a weakness. He, who had promised, to be with her. To love her. Golden eyes narrowed on the bacta tank for a long moment before she turned back to the terrified trauma team. “Stop your childish wailing. Get back to work.”
 
Aryn Teth


Sublevels of The Citadel, Golbah City, Geonosis, Arkanis Sector, The Outer Rim Territories
Attn: [member="Srina Talon"]
No sight nor sound would avail Aryn to understand exactly what was happening to Srina as she stood outside his tank. All his senses had been turned inward, his body refusing to allow him to notice the outside world as it instead directed all of its efforts towards preserving his body. Consciousness had left him long ago and eluded him still as every piece of his energy remained dedicated to a recovery which seemed to be at best halting the inevitable, rather than returning him to his full strength.

Of all his senses, only one provided him with any remaining link to the world outside his tank. Between himself and his wife, the faint tether of their bond pulled still, weakened by his distracted senses but present all the same, drying as hard as it was able to continue binding the thoughts and feelings of the two together. Although he could not make sense of what exactly had happened outside, the sensations of Srina's emotions flowed through Aryn still as a result of her bond. He felt her anger, he fury and her fear. He felt that something had changed, been wholly altered within Srina, and even lacking consciousness he knew he had to do something.

Naturally, as if on instinct, his body responded. The link between them began to flow again, and though he could not put thought into it, his body attempted to comfort and calm her. When first he had been struck by the explosion on Kuat, he had been only capable of sending to her the sound of his heartbeat as it slowed and halted, a desperate cry for help. This time, it came through clearer, calmer, stable...

Thump...Thump...Thump...Thump...
No words could flow between their bond while consciousness eluded him, he could not offer any comforting touch or soft lullaby to calm the raging storm that was rising within her, but still Aryn's body tried to offer Srina what it could. The beating of his heart continued to flow between them gently, a soft message that traveled without words to his beloved.

I am still here.
 

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