V I G I L A N T
How time changes.
The vast expanse of the snow-capped mountains stretching out above, below, and around me haven't changed in a billion years, and yet everything here seems to have changed in but a handful. Leaning on the railing of the platform overlooking the valley far below, I sip slowly at my liquor, warming me against the cold wind that blows even on a crisp sunny day. Behind me the sounds of good times are dulled by the bay windows that separate the viewing platform from the restaurant, the chilled outside from the warmed inside.
It had been what? two, three years since I'd last come to Galidraan? And how many times had I been standing in this very spot as a child when my parents would bring me back to the motherland? I could count them almost as many as I could count the years I'd been alive. No wonder I took my leave to come back.
Borders between Imperial governments were stricter than they used to be, and hell the Empire of the Lost as they called themselves had an Emperor of their own. But I wasn't here for politics, or to spy. I was just here to relax, as a civilian. Not that anyone would know otherwise, since I'd taken the necessary precautions. I wasn't officially Kazian Blackwood, but these days when was I ever?
When I'd arrived, Galidraan was chaotic. People fleeing the Sith at Tion, people deathly scared they would be next. Maybe so. That was part of my reasoning for one last visit. But up here in the mountains, between the chalet and the slopes, good food and good company, there was no sign of the wars that had just lit up across the galaxy.
I too had begun to forget it all. The cool mountain air was doing wonders for me after spending so long in smoked out cities and the recycled atmospheres of starships travelling between them. Sure, I could get this air on Carlac, but Carlac was... too military. I certainly don't think anyone had built a ski resort there, unless Darth Caelitus had a proclivity for it. Plus, it simply wasn't like this place... a home to me.
Galidraan was special to me, as it was special to so many Imperials. The Galidraani had been the backbone of the New Imperial Order, and though the Blackwood family was deep in the shadow of clans like the Barrans and Tals, and even though I'd been born on Bastion, we held our respect for the homeworld just the same.
My trip here was different than ever before. My father had passed years ago, my mother was living safely on Bastion still, and I hadn't put my skis on once. Of course, that was because I was still recovering from my two months in hell on Ord Mantell and the several times I'd been shot. Bacta had taken care of the physical pain, but the psychological impact... well... it lingered. Arriving here in maturity for the first time at least meant Dantooine single malt could soothe me.
I stared out across the range at a huge bird soaring among the mountains. What a change of pace. No superiors, no war, no trying to please anyone. I was free for just a few days before the climb up the ladder resumed and the war took its dues again.
From behind me I heard the door opening, and pushing off from my lean against the railing I turned to see who would be joining me out here. Someone else trying to escape for a bit?
