I've Only Got Eyes For You

[Hal Terrano]

Fragile stickers.

The single easiest way to draw the ire of parcel sorters and package couriers alike.

There was an attitude amongst this field of the working class that no package was more important than the other. Complete package equality, this was the future after all (a long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away). Every package was treated with the same amount of caution, so no matter how big, how small, the guys and gals of CHL made sure everything got there in one piece. That was just their service standard, unlike those ham-handed schmucks at myFermes.

So when they encountered a package with the special snowflake fragile sticker slapped onto the side it irked them. They took pride in their abilities as sorters and couriers! To think that some nonce out there doubted their abilities to deliver their cargo safely was ludicrous.

If they were so worried there was bubble wrap, packing peanut and so many more measures of safety to prevent the fine china from shattering. Insulting the staff's abilities however, was not a good measure.

Reggie Holst frowned at the great glaring fragile sticker, set out in black and glaring yellow, taunting him with notions of incompetence. Only three packages for Ossus for today, a small brown slip addressed to Padawan Yalawari, a large crate for a...Grrowlandlre, that name was hard to make out, Wookiees were never known for great penmanship.

Last but not least, a single medium-sized box, with that fragile sticker on the side, name and temple address written in very deliberate block capitals for one Avalore Eden.

The courier strolled through the temple pushing his repulsor lift along the halls, giving jovial greetings to those he passed. Reggie was well-known here, delivering packages to Jedi Temples after all required a certain amount of clearance and he was their regular.

With standard banter in tow the courier came to the temple administrator (somebody had to retain a sense of order and sense) and they moved through the old motions of signing, and confirming the delivery with a mild amount of morning flirtation on the go. He liked Gladys, might not have made it as a Jedi but she was a real ray of sunshine on the morning run.

After a brief chat the repulsor lift was pushed through to the mailhouse and the packages dropped off to be collected by their recipients.

His job was done, and with a cheery whistle and a skip in his step Reggie Holst moved on to the next job, not for a moment ever thinking about what his parcels might have contained.

[member="Avalore Eden"] | [member="Vrag"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

Ossus was not a regular stop for Avalore anymore. As a matter of fact, this particular Jedi temple was so far out of the way from her normal rounds that it was becoming something of a chore to make the once-a-month trip there for parcel-pick-up and classes.

Avalore Eden frowned deeply as this thought crossed her mind and she immediately chastised herself for even thinking it.

"It's not a chore, Avalore," the young woman said to herself under her breath as she rode the lift up from the hangar bay, "it's part of your duty to the Order and the Republic. You chose this life, you chose this task."

But any other time it never would have been a chore. Any other time she might've had [member="Hal Terrano"] in tow, or even [member="Lira Dajenn"] from time to time. Other times she enjoyed the company of [member="Meeristali Peradun"]. She'd not had the luxury of traveling with a regular student. Padawans came and went for her, and as of yet she'd not had one last her more than a month. This had, for some time, been a source of consternation for the Healer. Was it her fault or was it theirs? Was it no one's fault? Had they not been destined for this lifestyle? A Healer never truly enjoyed much respite, for war never ended.

Instead she'd come to the conclusion that it was the fault of the lightsaber.

Fething things were far too attractive to the young and foolhardy. Avalore knew better.

Dangerous things.

We're getting off track here.

Avalore was chastising herself for neglecting her duties as a Jedi, and in particular her duties as the Order's Chief Healer. It was her duty to attend the places where she was needed, and to do so without complaint.

So stop complaining, Avalore.

Ding. Entrance floor.

Avalore stepped out into the entrance hall of the temple, joining the bustle of the morning routine that she'd come to know well. Greetings to her sounded from all around and several times she was forced to stop as bright-eyed Padawans and eager Knights delayed her to make their respect and awe known. Somehow, over the last year or so, she'd become something of a legend around here. Avalore wasn't sure if that was a particularly good thing, as it went against her otherwise rather private lifestyle.

Finally she made it to the front desk, "Good morning Gladys," she greeted the woman with a half-hearted smile, "anything for me today?"

 

[Hal Terrano]

Gladys sat at her desk, face leant over a mug of steaming tea (of which there seemed to be no short supply in a Jedi temple) dreamily mulling over the conversation she had just had with one Reginald Holst.

After years of their ritualistic morning conversations he had done it, finally, he had found some courage from some pocket of that pine green uniform and had finally asked her out on a date. Why had it taken him so long? Building up the courage? Or just standard male forgetfulness? The temple administrator liked to consider that it was the former, that perhaps he found her so enchanting that prospect of a date frightened him so.

Or perhaps Gladys Jane Monsula needed to stop gorging herself upon chick flicks and women's magazines. Her hazel eyes flickered over to her lastest edition of Femme, where she was half-way through a compatibility quiz for you and your man.

Perhaps maybe just the chick flicks then.

So engrossed in the prospect of a meal at Ghasklagh, the acclaimed Tuskan Barbecue restaurant she barely even noticed that her tea was growing ever colder, and that the Chief Healer was approaching her desk.

She was finally pulled from her stupor by the woman speaking to her. There was a mild jolt, Gladys looking up with a smile upon her face that was only born of thinking warm thoughts, that warmth of freshly baked chocolate cookies, the chips melting ever-so-slightly, yeah, that kind.

“Oh!” she said, finally pulling herself out of the daze, “Master Eden! Good morning! I do have a package for you today, actually.”

Immediately the administrator sprung up out of her chair, rushing off towards the mail room that only stood a few metres from where her station was. “Great timing, it just came in this morning with Reginald. I'll be one moment!”

One promised moment later and Gladys reappeared from the mail room, coming back to her desk and placing the box carefully in front of the Healer. A quick frown emerged at the sight of the fragile sticker, Reginald hated those.

“More yoga pants is it? You can't have already worn through the last ones."

[member="Avalore Eden"] | [member="Vrag"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

"Take your time..." Avalore blinked after the woman, frown growing deeper as she wondered after the strange glow filling her cheeks. Normally she might've inquired as to the doe-eyed smile and the chipper mood, but the Chief Healer simply wasn't in a state of mind that would possibly allow for gossip or chit-chat.

Avalore was trying very hard not to think about Hal.

Masters [member="Kira Talith"] and [member="Kian Karr"] were already on the job, seeking out any clue as to the whereabouts of the wily Archivist Knight. There was really no one better for the job than the Master of Shadows, right? The assurance still didn't keep her brow from twitching at the Receptionist's comment of Yoga Pants.

I'm into hardcore yoga, alright?

This she bit back and accepted the parcel with the most deplorable smile in the history of ever. Really, she was giving Hal a run for his money here. He'd be so proud.

"Thanks Gladys," she managed before signing and taking it with her. Besides, if she didn't hurry she'd be late for her first class of the day.


~~~~

Ossus - Jedi Temple
3rd Floor - Healer's Wing - Classroom 3B
Healing 104 - Theory of Practice


Turn to page three-hundred-and-ninety-four.

If only.

"Pop quiz," Master Eden announced as she entered the classroom to the quiet murmur of her 3rd year students, "everyone take out a sheet of flimsie and stylus. I want an essay on this past month's readings. Once you've finished you can leave for the day."

The students exchanged glances, but much like what one would come to expect from young-teen Jedi, they hardly batted an eye at what was otherwise going to be an easy class today. Typically they would have spent the next two hours discussing the theory, practice, and foundations of what it meant to be a Healer, Healing techniques, and all things related, but Avalore simply didn't have it in her to lead the discussion.

She took a seat at her desk and set the parcel down before her, staring at it for a long while. There was no return address, no stamp or marking to indicate from where or from whom it had originated. It was rather simply addressed to her in large, bold letters, with a tag indicative of a courier's bane.

FRAGILE.

With a deep sigh and a measured amount of curiosity, she leaned forward and began to unwrap, checking that the noise wouldn't serve as a disturbance to her pupils.

[member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.

Meet Jem Yidrath.

A neurotic young Devaronian woman afflicted with eczema with knack for practise and less for exams. The moment that a pop quiz had been announced a familiar sense of dread seeped into her soul.

Different methods of tutelage worked for different people. The white-haired girl tended to come alive in the discussions, she was good at that, when talking the words flowed from her brain and out of her mouth with great ease. Jem enjoyed it, she held a great amount of passion (tsk) and pride when it came down to the Jedi school of healing.

This was what she wanted to do, what she wanted to be.

Conversely, when staring down at the flimsie she found herself cast in a very different light. It wasn't the same as with discussion, it was as if somebody had built a dam in her head between her stream of thoughts and her stylus-held hand, blocking off the answers that she so desperately sought. Some students just didn't test well, Padawan Yidrath was one such case.

The stress of the situation exacerbated her skin condition, hereditary, unfortunate but like the common cold still not cured. When she looked up from her flimsie and saw all of the other students with their heads down and styluses moving, well, that just made things worse.

Scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch scratch.

Nails had broken the skin, causing silvery blood to dot the stressed flesh upon the back of the girl's knee. A silent swear was mouthed, as ever-so-slowly Jem's head plonked down onto her desk in mild teenage despair. The curse of the pop quiz.

[member="Avalore Eden"] | [member="Vrag"]

 

[Avalore Eden]

What could it be?

Definitely not yoga pants. I only just ordered a pair last month. I hope they didn't send me a duplicate shipment - return processing is such a pain...

FRAGILE

Avalore gave a cursory glance to her class before grabbing a pair of scissors to cut the dura-seal edges of the parcel. It had a strange weight to it in her hands that seemed to stir while she worked the box open. It felt a bit like a package of fresh, stand-alone bacta, though not quite as latent. Bacta had an undeniable viscous quality to it - goopy - before being added to a reservoir tank and cured for final use. This was ... watery?

Shloop.

Pulling the top tab free, the Chief Healer peeled away packing material to reveal the top of a glass jar. Odd, she didn't remember ordering anything like this. Was it maybe a backordered item to her upgraded Healing Hall supply? She pulled the glass out and after clearing the parcel pieces away before looking to the jar's contents, startled with a soft yelp as she realized what was inside.

"Oh!" she blinked back surprise as two eyes bobbled around inside, spinning with the tail ends of the optic nerves fluttering behind them like some creepy tentacle appendage. Her breath caught in her throat, and an immediate sense of disgust came over her, expression settling into a grimace as she quickly set the jar down on the desk before her and pulled her hands away.

Avalore didn't notice several other pairs of eyes looking up from their testing in curiosity.

She stared at the jar, lips drawing thin.

Blue, the eyes were blue. A most unique and brilliant shade of blue. Handsome, even, just like Ha-

"Oh!"

Her heart suddenly scaled the length of her chest to sit firmly just beneath her throat. Pounding into a gasp that escaped her now slowly gaping jaw.

"Cl-class dismissed-" staring still, the Chief Healer's eyes grew steadily wider as the realization of just what she was looking at finally began to sink in, "CLASS DISMISSED!"

[member="Hal Terrano"]
[member="Kira Talith"]

 

[Hal Terrano]

How much time had passed?

Five minutes?

Ten?

Maybe fifteen at a push?

Jem felt as if her head had been face down on the desk for a good eternity, or at least for a good portion of this class. Her chrono informed her otherwise however, it had only been an agonising one minute and sixteen seconds, seventeen, eighteen. The young Devaronian's face screwed up at the cursed passage of time and she slowly raised her head.

It seemed as if everybody else around her was caught in full focus, storming the gates of the pop quiz with a swift-scribbling ease.

Although there was a few eyes titled upwards watching with curiosity to see what was in Master Eden's box. Jem could relate to that curiosity, goodness knows she had spent many nights on the holonet watching people unwrap amazing birthday presents. In fact she had watched one last night where a professional smashball player had wiped all of his mother's debts clean.

There was a lot of crying, Yidrath too with her face bathed in the light of the screen, hands kept warm by the steaming mug of hot chocolate. She reminded herself to watch that video again tonight, after the horror of the pop quiz.

Brown eyes now focused upon their teacher, a quizzical expression came to Jem's features as she observed the jar of eyes being revealed.

Ew.

Dissection? Was that in the curriculum? She didn't remember reading about it, suddenly a new anxiety attacked the girl, at the prospect of having to slice up a...what appeared to be human eye. Surely the textbooks on anatomy were enough?! Why just human? What about Devaronian eyes?! You can't just cut one and say you've cut them all!

Swept up in her own frantic neurosis, Jem was finally snapped out of her thoughts by the rather frantic dismissal of the class. The students remained silent as they packed up their things and shuffled out of the room in their cliques, only starting to mutter about the jar of eyeballs when they had left the room.

Jem took a glance backwards into the room, her stare settling upon the morbid jar and then up towards the Chief Healer.

They weren't for dissection.

[member="Avalore Eden"] | [member="Vrag"] | [member="Kira Talith"]

 

[Kira Talith]

[member="Avalore Eden"] [member="Hal Terrano"]

The students would half awkwardly leave the class, a few would linger outside, confused. There was a stirring; an uneasiness that came. A few couldn't quite put their finger at what it was. All they knew is that Master Eden's face had drained of all color.

Was it a horrible prank?

Low murmurs would drift as students made headway to another class, and in the growing confusion, another Master's voice would cut the din. Blue would lock upon the brown eyes of one Jem, catching her staring back into the classroom

"Hey kiddos, going to recess already?" petite with a shock of wavy blonde hair, sassy grin. Jedi Master Kira Liadain err.. Talith? The expression on her face gave the indication of curiosity, but the concern in her eyes would reflect as students would pour out of the classroom. There was a disturbance in the Force; it was subtle, but one didn't have to be an empath to register the ongoing wave of confusion.

This was solidified with one glance at the blanched visage of Avalore. Lorrdian by birth, kinetic communication was the cornerstone of the petite Jedi Master for all of her interactions. Where tongues would weave lies, a body would always bear the subtle nuances of the truth. The true meaning behind intentions would come to the fore, and in this instance, Avalore was a bright red flag of horrified panic.

"Amarei..." Kira would call for an older padawan, all of twelve years old. She was an olive skinned Twi'lek with bright gold eyes. "Take the students over to Master Vosra; have them start their lessons on tapas early. Jem...help her."

Amarei gave every indication of wanting to ask questions, but she did as instructed, herding the rest of the students along the corridor. The door would hiss shut, enclosing the two Jedi Masters in the class. Weaving her way along the desks, Kira would make her way towards the chief healer.

"Avalore?" Kira would ask, drawing closer. She caught the bulging eyes, the tremble of fingers, the growing signs of horrified panic and anxiety. A few more steps and she caught sight of a jar, a glass jar. Twin spheres of fleshy organs with their own little tails. No wait, was that...

Realization hit her like a ton of bricks.

Maybe it was because of the torture she lived under Nemene and Eve. Maybe it was because of the trials and tribulations that came after in the Geonosian slave pits. Maybe it was just because Kira had seen the wretched things Bando Gora Reavers; whatever it was, there was a grit to the Lorrdian Jedi Master that hadn't been there seven years prior.

It was this grit that would allow her to focus on Avalore and show a measure of compassion to attempt to comfort and calm the Chief Healer. Her hand would reach out, searching to take Avalore's wrist and turn her away from the grisly sight.

"Avalore." Kira would repeat her name again, attempting to draw her attention, to focus on her voice and her presence.

 

[Avalore Eden]

Avalore didn't look at Kira, though she heard the woman, felt her there, her eyes remained locked on the jar.

"...Kira..." breath locked in her ribcage, the Healer had stopped breathing. Her jaw was tight and slack all at once. Her heart was hammering so fast that it hurt - a pain that transcended physicality. Somewhere within the corporeal form of the Healer her soul was splintering.

Hal.

"...Kira..." she began to tremble, body having gone rigid in growing horror, her voice strained as though speaking through vocal chords slowly turning to stone, "...his eyes...."

"....his eyes....they sent me his eyes...."

[member="Kira Talith"]
[member="Hal Terrano"]
[member="Sopher"]

 

[Allyson Locke]

Ossus was weird and Sopher hated it, possibly a trait he shared with his DNA donor. Such was a story for another time. A hand rested on his shoulder as the arm moved the shoulder the best he could. Trying to uproot trees that were still rather securely gripped to the ground of the planet was a bad idea. It was what he deserved for losing his temper and trying to show off to younglings.

By the way, the tree that was sitting crushed in half on the front gate of the Temple - yeah he succeeded.

Continuing to grunt he had heard that Avalore the chief of healers was around - he could possible get her to look at him. His footsteps echoed as he came across a classroom where the students were filing out. The hand on his shoulder moved and then started to brush aside kids by their heads.

“Ow”

“Hey mister”

“What the --”

Sopher just grunted as he pushed his way through the sea of small humans and aliens. Upon entering the room he found both Avalore and Blondie. Keeping his signature frown he looked at Avalore and put his hand back on his shoulder. The man tried his best to look as pathetic, yet totally manly as possible he spoke.

“My shoulder hurts.”

Blinking a few moments and then finally seeing the look on the woman’s face, his eyes looked from the corner at Kira. His body straightened and his hand fell from his shoulder. “Why did you break the Chief of Healers Blondie?”


[member="Avalore Eden"] [member="Kira Talith"] [member="Hal Terrano"]

 

[Kira Talith]

[member="Avalore Eden"] [member="Sopher"]

Well there was no denying the truth there. But there was no need to focus on it; at least not now. The important thing was getting Avalore out of here.

"Avalore, we don't know that yet." again, Kira would urge the Chief Healer to turn away. A grimace would return, seeing the appearance of a blonde head, rugged features, and the gruff voice of a padawan she hadn't seen in years.

"Sopher?" Her expression shifted, confusion, then mild alarm. He was older. The lines of his face harsher. Lived in. Age had set in as had life. His body was leaning slightly; being a Lorrdian meant that she was able to read a sapients body language. He was hurt. A whimper from Avalore's direction drew her attention to the chief healer again.

"Avalore, come with me." urging the taller woman to follow her, moving her towards Sopher. "Let's go to the medical bay." she would suggest, attempting to distract the woman, "Looks like Sopher got into a jam." if she could get Avalore to focus on that aspect, maybe she can have some time to call other masters in the classroom. Search for clues. If those were really Hal's eyes, there were ways to trace it back, as grotesque as it would be.