Hearing the word Lord before his name was something he'd never get used to.
It had been many years at this point, but the man Abel saw when he looked in the mirror was not the liege of a great house. He did not see a man who had taken a budding winery and turned into something profitable. No, when he looked himself in the eye? He saw the Enforcer from all those years ago. Try as he might to run away from it, Abel had the itch. He wasn't satisfied sitting on his hands, dressed in fine clothes. Sure, the income was nice and the accommodations were cozy - but what he craved was being out there among the stars.
To him, fulfilling the desire of his late grandfather was now a ball and chain.
So it was that Abel returned home after a rather explosive trip aboard a luxury star liner. The cruise was intended to be a networking event where he'd present the Denko brand wines and liquors to prospective clients. However, there were some...fireworks. Pirates boarded and all sorts of Hell broke loose. It was a dangerous situation...but Abel was right at home. He thrived in meeting the bastards head-on. That's what he wanted to do. That's what he needed. But today, he was seated behind the same desk, with the same papers, in the same office.
"You like look shit."
Now those were words that hadn't been thrown in his direction for a long time. Everyone at the Denko Estate was too busy worrying about potentially offending their liege to ever consider speaking to him this way. But this one? This one saw Abel's eyes shoot up from his papers. And what did he see? A phantom. The man was just his height, with hair that had turned ashen-white due to the years. He wore clothes that screamed "I'm from Nar Shaddaa, the gutter is my apartment" and there was a lightsaber on his hip. Abel's jaw almost fell to the floor.
He didn't know whether to be happy or mad. Both? Both.
"Bold words coming from an nerf herder like you." he spat back, rising from his seat. "Do you even know what a shower is? I can smell you from here." The man - his elder sibling - chuckled. He folded his arms and looked as though he didn't have a care in the world. "I'm not the one who smells like Naboo's Next Top Whore. Is that lavender? Tsk." The two brothers took bold strides towards one another. And before Abel knew it, he could feel the weight of his lightsaber inside his dominant hand.
"I'm sure you didn't come all this way to talk shit. What do you want?" The question was fair. Abel hadn't seen Josiah since before the Confederacy fell. In fact, when last he heard from his sibling, they were celebrating the fact that Josiah's lost daughter was alive. But after that? Silence. Abel had to literally hunt for the man's whereabouts, only to discover he had been living the hermit's life on Monastery. Typical. Josiah didn't seem defensive in the slightest when he answered. "I came here to help you."
Abel scoffed. "Help? In case you haven't noticed, everything's doing pretty damn well here. No thanks to you." Josiah shook his head. "I hear you've made quite a name for yourself in the booze world. Old habits die hard, eh Sun?" Abel's displeasure escaped as a frustrated huff. Attributing his success to his time with the Black Suns? Not the best move. "Oh right, and why exactly did I join the Suns to begin with? That's right! You ran off to play Jedi and left me holding the bag. Someone had to keep our sister fed." Josiah held up his hands - perhaps that wasn't what he was going for. "Now hold on, I didn't-"
"Didn't what, think? Stick around? No, you just piss off whenever it hits your fancy and you leave us to figure it out. You did it when I was a teenager to go wave a lightsaber. You did it when everything went to shit with the CIS. Hell, I'd bet money you haven't talked to your daughter in ages, right? Gun to your head, you couldn't tell me what Auteme even does for a living." Josiah huffed and stepped forward, placing his face but a breath from his brother's. "You keep her name out of your damn mouth."
"Or. What."
Snap. Hiss.
As the old saying went, boys would be boys. And brothers had this unique talent for knowing just what buttons to press to set the other off. Want to send Abel to orbit? Mention the Suns. Want to send Josiah to orbit? Mention his kid. So it was that two duked it out. Now, this wasn't just some fist-slinging fest where a few tables and chairs got messed up. No no. This was a clash between two people who had the Force and knew how to use it damn well. By the time they ran out of steam, the office that had become their battleground didn't look like an office anymore.
The walls were marred with cracks from where their telekinesis had been fired. Every piece of furniture was either sporting new scorch marks from lightning or was hacked to pieces by a lightsaber. As for the brothers themselves? Abel was pretty sure his arm was dislocated. His brother on the other hand? Unphased, save for the heavy breathing. They now stood a few feet from each other, blue sabers in hand. "You done? Or do I need to actually put you through the wall?"
"Feth. You."
BOOM!
Abel was gasping for air. He didn't think that the bastard would actually put him through a wall - but here he was. On his ass, surrounded by rubble. Josiah's saber shooped as he turned it off. He then took a knee beside his defeated sibling, shaking his head. "Are you ready to use your words?" he said. Abel wanted to spit at him but couldn't find the strength. "You call this helping?" he managed to croak. Josiah chuckled. "Absolutely. You can't stand this shit, you never did. You're not the 'honoring dying wishes' type."
"Yeah? So what, you've come to burn it all down?"
"I'm an nerf herder, not a Sith Lord. Get it right." Josiah fully plopped down beside Abel and sighed. "But you're right about me. I've spent so many years chasing the wrong things and then letting myself get eaten by guilt to actually live. I did leave you responsible for our sister. I didn't ask, and that was wrong of me."
"Ya think?"
Josiah smirked. "Shut up and let me finish."
"I was wrong, Abel. And you had to live a rough life because of my mistakes. I can't go back in time and fix that - I wish I could. All I can do now is try and help you not go down the same road I did. All I can do is try to help you live the life you want." Abel groaned and rolled over. He found the strength to sit up at least, taking a deep breath to ensure he didn't need a bacta tank...or surgery. "What do you know about the life I want to live? You haven't been aro-" Josiah held up his hand.
"One, you hate rich people. Two, you love fighting. Three, most importantly, you hate rich people. Beyond that, I know what the happened to you when the CIS went to shit. I know you lost a lot when Naboo was on fire. That's enough to make anyone want to hang up the saber - but you've still got fight in you. Today proved that." Abel shook his head.
"That's great and all, but how are you going to actually, tangibly help me? You don't know a damn thing about wine! You don't know a damn thing about rich people either!"
"Same way you did. I'll take the time to learn. Besides, I read grandfather's message - this role was meant for the both us, not just for you to shoulder alone. Let me step up so you can live your life. If anything catches fire, I'll call you obviously."
Abel sighed and went quiet. This wasn't a decision to make lightly. He'd have to consult his staff, the board, suppliers...but the notion of being free again? To experience what he and Palm-Imer did on the cruise? The camaraderie. The rush of battle. All of it...He missed being a Knight. He missed being himself. "...Tentative yes. But so help me, if you so much as botch a single deal I'll kill you myself." Josiah laughed aloud and pushed himself up to his feet. He then extended his hand to his brother.
Abel eyed his hand.
"Don't feth this up, Lord Denko."
"Wouldn't dream of it, Master Denko."
