Private The Hollow

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin

THE HOLLOW
​

The muscle soreness and shrapnel wounds from the past few operations collectively had finally healed off to the point where Kriegan could return to his usual intensive physical conditioning regimen. A great deal of that was combat martial arts. It wasn't any more than a day following Operation Scimitar that Kriegan was in the training pit again. Opposite of a melee sparring droid he went through the motions of attack and defense combonations drilled into his head through hundreds of hours of training sessions already both in the academy and as an officer in the stormtrooper corps. It was late into the night by the ship's time, the rest of his platoon had already called it a night and left to their quarters aboard the Star Dreadnought. If only Kriegan was so fortunate to be able to simply lay his head down and rest so easily.

The weight of obligation and leadership compounded by the chaotic and nigh traumatic experiences of recent operations kept him up at night. Laying in a bed, alone, peering at the ceiling, sleep only seemed to be a distant inevitability that he could never truly grasp.

Strikes, jabs and kicks all rocked the padded exterior of the sparring droid as it tried to reply in tandem with its own counter attacks only for Kriegan to swipe back in a violent riposte of fists and might- eventually waring down the droid until its training program determined a technical knock out and it was reset again. He was breathing heavily, another rep complete but even though his body and stamina was already beginning to ware, it wouldn't be the last.

He turned to the faint hiss of a blast door pulling open to see a familiar face, Siyn. He offered a faint smile before nodding her way.

"Can't sleep either, I take it?" He asked, arching a brow with the inquiry.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

It was useless.

Hardly even a day out from Operation Scimitar, and a general dis-ease still clung to her like indelible ink with the consistency of mud. A thorough shower or two had done little to eradicate the feeling, nor had the soak settled her, yet despite this she still made the attempt at laying down, shutting her eyes, and running through every typically reliable method to lull herself into a state of rest… but the stillness only served to make her skin crawl. She doubted she was the only one struggling with rest after what she and Jorus' squad had encountered in Banol's Maze.

It was late by the time Siyndacha took to quietly padding down the passageways to the pit, arms folded over her chest as she walked to her destination, intent on simply wearing herself out so that her body wouldn’t have any choice but to give in to whatever amount of shut-eye she might have any hope of achieving. Even if it ended up fitful.

For Siyn, the way to the training pit was one of the most familiar routes of all the ones she had walked since transferring onto the Star Dreadnought. Daily maintenance of her katas and other aspects of her lifelong art were as natural to her as eating, or perhaps even breathing; a practice instilled since before she could rightly remember. Often, a place to continue this practice was the first thing she sought out, even before fully settling into a new environment.

And in most cases, a practice she carried out alone. Not out of choice, but out of a frequent lack of other practitioners, even amongst most knights. Such that when she reached the pit and the blast door hissed open, she was taken aback not only by the place not being empty of others at this late hour, but by his being in the midst of what she intended to do, herself, and was already a ways into it, as it would appear.

She returned his faint smile with one of her own.

"Can't sleep either, I take it?"

Siyn shrugged with a slight shudder to the motion, gave her head a light-though-similar shake, and stepped away from the entrance, the door hissing shut behind her.

“Just a tip - avoid sites of mass sacrificial Sith Magic, if at all possible.” She unfurled her arms, and gestured to the droid, flicking her silvered gaze back to Kriegan. “What's your practice? What style?”

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin

THE HOLLOW
​

He peered down to his hands for a moment, his knuckles underneath the wrapping reddened and the skin nearly split from the repeated strikes and jabs he levied on the training droid. Slowly making his way to the side he began to apply another layer of wrapping to his hands as she spoke, eventually offering a gesture to the training droid which reset its programming and sent it on its rigid mechanical path back to its charging port and setting itself to sleep mode.

“Just a tip - avoid sites of mass sacrificial Sith Magic, if at all possible.”

“Unfortunately in our line of work, our likelihood of stumbling into that is much higher than otherwise. I’d glanced over the AAR from Scimitar. Just glad you made it out alright.” He remarked, opening and closing his palms to adjust the wrapping around both hands until it was comfortable.

“MIMIC taught us a mix of Mandalorian and Echani. The former more so when operating in armor and the latter without, but they both do just fine in tandem, at least in my experience. I’ve already had a few situations where I’ve had to use my hands in combat and the training served me just fine.” He replied in earnest. It served him well enough to survive an encounter banking nigh solely on his martial ability stacked up against two Jedi, something he’d consider to be a well enough proof of concept.

"But of course, we're all merely students are we not?" He remarked with a grin before holding out his arms in a nigh taunting gesture.

"What do you say, Siyn? Care to spar?" He asked, arching a brow as he equipped himself with a false boasting tone to his voice, ever confident he could best her in hand to hand.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

“Unfortunately in our line of work, our likelihood of stumbling into that is much higher than otherwise. I’d glanced over the AAR from Scimitar. Just glad you made it out alright.”

The Force-given effects of having ‘bathed’ in a field of such dark, bleak magics would fade soon enough, she knew this, and what was seen couldn’t be unseen, yet what was witnessed and felt was data, ultimately. She would recognize it faster in the future, but she doubted she would ever like how it felt.

“The same to you,” she responded in kind, meandering further into the room, going through some stretches while he answered her query about the art he practised, and finding herself pleasantly surprised at hearing her own amongst the two mentioned. That it had served him just fine… certainly, it had kept him alive.

"But of course, we're all merely students are we not?"

Siyn turned towards Kriegan at those words - a paraphrase of a common saying in many a martial art - eyeing him in the last of her stretches. “Correct,” she drew out, curiously, the particular curve of his grin that she became rather familiar with - and fond of - over the course of a recent evening, and the appearance of his attempt to taunt her, all serving to curl the corners of her own lips.

"What do you say, Siyn? Care to spar?"

Her own brows briefly crept upward at the query.

“I don’t know how much you were told about Echani culture in your training,” she started, letting go of the last stretch, to one side of her neck, “but it’s a long-held belief that combat is the only way to truly get to know someone.”

And that was just the surface.

“Not a belief I’ve lost,” she said evenly, moving into a stance, one arm bent closer to the body, the other bent and held out, palms to the ceiling. “I will adhere to tradition,” she informed, flashing a faint smirk, “for your sake.”

The fingers of her forward hand beckoned.

“Come.”

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin
​

He nodded with a grateful smile to her to her remark. After all however, the conventional firefight which Kriegan and his element of 501st Stormtroopers got themselves into was overwhelming and hectic, it hardly stacked heavily in comparison to being inflicted by a dark side ritual in the manner Siyn did. Regardless they were both alive and in one piece, well enough to fight another day.

Today, however they’d hone their own skills in the pit. It was a necessary practice. Time spent here translated to greater lethality in the field and a greater chance of surviving encounters akin to what he’d faced on Ilum. Though next time, he was committed not to merely surviving the fight but ending it in his favor.

As she beckoned his challenge he couldn’t help but return another grin. While the training at MIMIC was mainly centered around the literal, physical motions of Echani martial arts- learning the greater context and purpose as to which the techniques and martial stratagems were applied served to only accelerate their learning of the martial art.

That and of course, her blatantly telling him this was the case at the Gala made the poignancy of this spar not lost on him.

“I guess you could say we’re still having our dance.” He remarked before he lowered himself into his own starting stance, balling his hands into wrapped fists before hunching himself behind his guard. They’d start standing, striking. It was hardly Kriegan’s strength, preferring to pull his opponent to the ground, into ‘deep waters’ as the instructors often called it and beat them that way. But as any good fight did, they’d start on their feet fighting with their hands.

“If you so wish.” He said, wasting little time in stepping forward, feinting an undercut strike in his right hand before sending a quick jab toward her face with the other. Though it was a move he hardly took joy in, daring to lay a hand on that pretty face. But again- this was how she preferred to dance.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

Kriegan's remark - a clear reference to the night of the Gala - told her just how much he understood, and how much he had gleaned. This was their dance in a manner of speaking, and her definite preference due to the practicality of it. Though she initially had one purpose in mind in coming to the pit at this late hour, it wouldn’t be wasted time if she didn’t achieve that outcome: the rest she sought.

She knew just as well as him the benefits of live sparring, something that only the most specifically engineered and exactingly programmed droids, if not replicants, could truly match when the user was beyond a certain degree of training… not including the simple fact that she was capable of dealing with a droid in other ways. This session would improve conflict outcomes for them both. So, too, could more of the same.

He stepped towards her and she read his intent, shifts in muscle that telegraphed his movements. She didn’t need to rely on the Force for this, instead using knowledge, perception, and the speed and strength of her body, itself trained as a weapon. Sharpened. Her lower hand, the left, became a fist as he entered her space.

Her other hand, the upper hand, flipped over and she sent a knife - the outer edge of her palm - in a rapid cut to the slight bend of the elbow when the fist rushed towards her face, an attack as a block. Chained in the wake of that strike, with the thumb restrained in the first two fingers, her fist was sent in a sharp jab to where that arm connected to his torso. Precise strikes.
​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin
​

Her expertise in the martial art was evident. His immediate opener was met with violence of execution with a chained together riposte in response. While he was able to catch her knife hand in his forearm the jab under his arm was absorbed in earnest. It was hardly painful, but any well landed blow from her stung in its own way. Only in that it could’ve been stopped.

He immediately jolted back in reply, creating a gap between them to use his greater reach to his advantage before he twisted his upper body to the side to deliver a punch to the side of her abdomen, using the momentum to crank his core in the other direction, twisting his body back around to deliver a punishing kick toward the adjacent shin of her leg in the hopes of sending her staggering back defensively in her stance, as soon as he could move her from her place- it was possible to bring her to the ground where he could leverage technique and greater body weight and size to his advantage to beat her in the spar. But he knew that was a task not so easily levied in the first few jabs of contact between them. After all- he was still getting a feel for how she fought, which to this point had been relatively defensive.

“Just as lethal as I expected, Siyn. I can only
hope to keep up.” He said, delivering the remark with a smirk before he fired another jab toward her face immediately after- stepping forward into the strike in the hopes of sending her off her footing.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

She drew back her arms in tandem with his own reverse travel, and he came at her once again with dual-sided movements, this time with no feint - the punch to her side she blocked with her arm, but there was no counter for the particular kick he dished out but to evade it and respond somewhat in kind if at all possible, as was her reflex.

She pulled her leg back just out of reach of the swipe of his kick - it was fortunate that he was only an inch taller - and reset the step of that leg a bit to the side once the kick moved away, pivoting, and lifting her other leg for a side kick to his front…

“Just as lethal as I expected, Siyn. I can only hope to keep up.”

…but she saw the smirk, and his fist shooting towards her, causing her to instead drop the foot to the floor, which left her sideways to him. She bowed her head forward slightly and immediately, letting the fist pass behind her head, nearly grazing; as the fist passed and began to retract, Siyn pivoted through a quick one-hundred-and-eighty degree turn, her other side now facing him and her front perpendicular to him. This put her well within his space, with the open palm of her forward arm, thumb down, careening out of the turn for what could be a resounding slap to the opposite side of his head.

“Stop hoping,” she said sharply, teasingly, in mid-delivery of the hit, her face writ with a wild grin - she was clearly getting a thrill out of this, regardless of the position she now found herself in, “and keep up, then!”

After all, sideways was a rather limited position to work from. A rather compromised position, in fact, and it was quite apparent by now what he was trying to do… which was certainly not how she fought, but precisely why she enjoyed it. There was a bit more of the unknown to this. Engaging a pure follower of the Echani art would be a sliver more dull, and a bit more predictable by comparison, but no less a workout.

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin
​

He was hardly hoping, he thought. Every strike and jab he levied unto him was one not only well practiced but one choreographed directly from traditional Echani martial art teachings. She knew it all very well and while it certainly helped to be a learned practitioner of any one particular martial art- it also paid to be unpredictable. While he was sure Siyndacha had seen enough scraps in her day not to be too easily surprised by what he was throwing at her.

But once more- he had to put the fight on his level and pull her to the ground to begin a grappling match- an arena where he would hold the advantage over her. Closing the gap- he delivered a dervish of three strikes in a methodical succession. It was more of a feint than any real assault on her, the actual attack, veiled by the hail of punches toward her face, deviating only to swipe past her guard along her ribcage and side came in the form of his legs. He position his off leg forward before swiping at her own to knock her from her footing, following through with a step forward with the other leg to close the space once more before eventually lowering his head and shoulder to wrap his arms around her chest and under her armpits to throw her to the mat beneath them, lowering down to a knee and wrapping his right leg behind her own in the hopes of taking the battle from one of strikes and blows to supposed ‘deep waters’.

Managing the assault, he immediately went for hip control, to straddle her form on the ground beneath before swiping his hands to grasp her wrists, speaking up with another taunt as he tried to pin her unto the mat.

“Oh, I can keep up, dear.” He said before flashing another toothsome grin to her. He was certainly enjoying the scrap.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

She knew that any advantage she grasped had evaporated, likely the moment she had to abandon that side kick. He had shown himself to be relentless, such that no sooner had she pivoted herself around to face him, that he had come at her for the third time in a flurry of fists, obscuring the fact that he aimed to take hold of her.

And he did, taking her to ground, and verily pinning her in such a way that she had no recourse. A fact that really only settled in after a few moment’s squirming, testing her constraints. There was nothing to be done but to peer up at his face, which was suddenly a good deal closer than it had been at any point. Mind, so was the rest of him.

“Oh, I can keep up, dear.” He said before flashing another toothsome grin to her.

And so was that grin, too. [ Oh… ] Her eyes slipped shut rather briefly as she breathed a light, amused sigh out her nose, and they flicked open again, settling on his own. Her face had become quite a bit less pale... though how much of that was from the exertion, and how much from right in this moment was anyone’s guess.

“So you can, darling,” she confirmed as her lips curled into a warm, slightly amused smile, just barely not grinning, herself, “do be a dear and let me have my hands, hmm?”

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin
​

Within a few swipes and maneuvers he had her exactly where he wanted her in the spar. He doubted, almost immediately that it was entirely due to his own prowess and skill in the pit. As soon as he opened his eyes which were screwed shut to brace the impact of the tackle that in turn brought them both down to the mat with a tempered thud- his cheeks flushed a shade of red as well. Within a few seconds he managed hip and hand control, giving him the immediate edge on her in the engagement. He held a firm doubt that he could retain such a secure physical dominance through the course of the spar. One of his many ingrained flaws, a dragon which he’d yet to slay. Doubt. He knew he needed to deep down, doubt in decisive situations got men killed. Any worse feeling than doubt would certainly be that.

However, when he was able to look in her eyes and see that flash of rouge flush her cheeks to match his own grin- he knew at least then he was reassured in his own feelings toward her. It was nothing so deeply pulling in his heart- but it was certainly an admiration to put it faintly. He reveled in these moments where a frigid exterior was chipped away to reveal a welcoming warmth beneath from her. In spite of the circumstances or perhaps, to enhance them as per the nature of the Echani woman in his hold- he sought it further.

“Would I be, though? Don’t think an Echani woman would appreciate a man going easy on her.” He said with a faint laughter accompanying the remark.

“If you want them- shouldn’t be any challenge for you to take them back, no?” He asked, leaning his head down closer to hers as he eased the weight of his upper body down further to keep her pinned against the mat.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

The faint laugh that came along with his remark pulled a couple small notes of the same from her; he wasn’t wrong, and she was glad that he wasn’t about to metaphorically roll over and acquiesce to her request.

He wasn’t going to ultimately fall back on propriety over one aspect of her identity, or back off out of fear of what she was capable of, and that made more certain what she felt toward him, further coalescing the rather small, yet growing island in the longstanding sea of her ambivalence and caution. Her own doubts, born out of the hurt of years past.

“Mm, it wouldn't be,” she answered to his asking, without a scrap of hesitance, keeping her eyes steady on his face as he applied more of himself to keeping her right where she was, “but at this point,” she continued, taking in a sharp, shallow breath; as his head dipped closer, so too did the volume of her voice trend downward, “I would have to resort to cheating.”

Her brows crept upward just a touch, and her smile tamped down from a near-grin, still warm. Her head lifted from the mat, as if to accentuate her point.

“And hurting you isn’t in my interests.”

​

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin
​

He’d heard of what she spoke of nights before, that one never knew an Echani until they’d engaged in combat with one another. He didn’t know how real that was until now. While what began as a true and balanced measure of martial expertise turned into something…more. He could see it in her eyes and no doubt, the same want was depicted in his own gaze. That instinctual pull that drifted the two of them together certainly made their combative engagement all the more fascinating in its context.

Even if her nature no doubt wouldn’t have minded a continuation to the scrap, at this point- he knew what they both sought hardly lingered in the training pit. They’d fought with one another side by side and now they’d engaged in combat with one another. By Echani standards, they’d certainly crafted a close bond in a short length of time and underneath such physical and mental duress.

“It isn’t? Can’t say it’s in mine either. Curious then…whatever could our interests be? But I suppose fortune only ever favors the bold.” He remarked with that same teasing grin he sported a moment ago amidst a flushed expression.

After a moment of contemplation, calculating his next move, he screwed his eyes shut and drifted his lips toward hers, fixating the grip he had on her wrists for a moment as he pressed a hungry kiss to her lips, all but snapping close the physical tension of combat and exchanging it for another in the closeness at the embrace of lips.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

That hunger was reciprocated; she drank it in, and when that embrace ceased and he barely pulled away, presumably for air with his grip on her wrists relinquished, she curled her fingers into the front of his shirt and pulled him into another kiss with the same hungered intensity, her head pressed against the mat once again.

Some part of her had wanted to do that since at least the gala - though not necessarily from this position - and when that second exchange was broken, it was hardly necessary to voice the need to relocate.

---

A little while later…

A bulkhead or two had been visited upon, along the way, before his quarters were found. The next long while after that bore little resemblance to sleep, or anything remotely calm, but it did further chase away the unsettled feeling in her skin, at least temporarily.

All that took was a heady fixation, an all-consuming distraction. Proving just how much of the effects were mental and just how difficult it was to shut her mind off, that she was already thinking this over while laying there, a little after her skin began to cool. As amusing as it was, considering what it took to feel normal - just setting her mind and body on fire, is all.

She looked at him, her partner in that distraction, “I wonder,” she began, silver eyes studying his face, “what's on your mind.”

A minor interest of hers, the thoughts of others, how they often differed so starkly from her own.

“What do you think of when you don’t need to be the officer?”

​

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin

​

Even if the tangible circumstances of it all felt a bit wrong, their dynamic had been veering toward this course since their night in Ravelin. He could see it spelled all over her expression and no doubt, she could read the same from him. That mutual interest and need all boiling to the surface in what was, at least to the Echani, a very sentimental moment.

He had already sat himself up on the edge of the bed when she sprung her inquiry. He glanced back with an arched brow before turning the upper half of his body back toward her as he propped himself by his arms on the bed.

“I always need to be an officer, beautiful.” He said, cracking a smirk to accompany the term of endearment he levied toward the Echani.

“It’s a demanding lifestyle in all truth, I’m never truly free from it.” He admitted, feeling along a worn blaster wound that grazed his forearm, braved unknowingly to him on Iridonia. He’d taken many such rounds already, the armor and adrenaline of combat in flux with the stim injectors inbuilt into his armor helping him to brave the pain each time.

“There’s a lot on my mind, really.” He said before he turned to squarely face her.

“You certainly are, if it’s any reassurance. In truth though, my thoughts can only stray so far from my duty, from the lifestyle and obligations. It’ll be some time before I can, really- if ever.” It was a solemn, if bitterly truthful thing to admit aloud. But that was the sacrifice one accepted in the profession of arms. His life was well and truly in service to the Empire. The autonomy and freedoms expected of most any other galactic citizen were stripped from him in the name of duty and obligation.

“Wish I had a more interesting answer but…time is not too generous in allowing me much escapism. What about you?” He asked.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

The term of endearment, along with the smirk, earned him a flash of a smile that narrowed her eyes for a moment, whereafter she shuffled herself into a more seated position as he continued to speak and expand on his answer - that he always needed to be an officer. An answer she could have expected, if only for the simple fact that her life hardly differed in consistency.

There was hardly any escaping it, in truth. In a way, their conversation had grazed the subject in Ravelin, staring in the face of what laid ahead. All they could do was take what scant reprieve circumstances offered, then and henceforth. He felt a recent wound as he spoke to that lack of freedom, and her gaze briefly shifted there, then tracked from there, to other, older wounds that she could see - that was one of the ‘demands’ of this lifestyle - and though all of her visible scars were long-faded, most having come from the small number of years that she was nigh-enslaved to the darkness, she knew it was only a matter of time before her own bodily collection was added to.

A when, not an if.

She lifted her chin from within the crook of her elbow on her knee, where her arms were folded, when he turned to face her in full to give a cursory summary of the contents of his thoughts. That she had gained a place in his thoughts that spent the majority of the time necessarily focused elsewhere brought a faint smile to her lips - though ascertaining that hadn’t been a reason behind her query - despite the hard reality. The acceptable sacrifice. Obligations…

Then the question was turned to her. Aerin turned her face away to look ahead, and dropped her head back against the bulkhead behind her, sighing lightly. Thinking about her answer. Only one arm remained looped over her propped up knee.

“The…” her head turned, her eyes following to anchor on him again, “...balance of my thoughts occupy similar realms,” she admitted - duty and the like, “you’re also included in that. Honestly, if my thoughts do stray anywhere else, it’s either my mind gnawing on some,” she fell silent for a moment, wondering how to sum this, “intellectual problem or process or,” she gave a very brief, faint frown, and issued a sharp breath out her nose, “reminding me of eventualities I would rather not think on at all.”

Very, very rarely anything else. After a moment of silence, she sounded a vaguely amused note in her throat, as a thought hit her, her brows lofting a little, the corners of her mouth curling.

“You helped me not think at all, full stop, for a little bit there, handsome.”

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin
​

Two diligent, otherwise frigid souls able to warm one another’s company for just a brief window of time and here they were again pondering over a life and a future that seemed ever uncertain. Each day spent in this tranquil lull was more reminiscent of a calm before the storm than any true respite. He had no doubt she felt similarly as well. As much as they seemed to indulge in giving one another their full attention, still, duty continued to tug at their subconscious.

“That was my intent after all.” He remarked with a faint grin in reassurance in her direction. But even still, her pattern of thought was ever an object of curiosity to Tavlar. Just as his was to her.

“But I know what you mean, it’s hard to neglect the weight of everything, of what we do. Our tasking is, after all, to kill.” He says, remarking the rather obvious.

“You ever think though what you’d try and do once you make it through to the other side of all this? A war is coming, that much is for certain…but eventually, there’ll be that time for peace. And peace isn’t so good to people like us. Not that a fiery Echani such as yourself is ever truly at peace. Always seeking a fight.” He says with a faint, teasing smile in her direction.

“But do you see yourself doing anything beyond our great Imperial crusade? As a knight?” He inquired.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

Her cheeks pinked ever so vaguely at his initial response, but that was the extent of her reaction to it, her own comment akin to steam, a brief loosening of the pressure valve of her consciousness, where the subject of that uncertain future was concerned. They always circled back here. It was hard to avoid, given the demands of their path; the mind was especially prone to this speculation, when the bulk of one’s days were woven through with death.

She nodded slowly after his remark, as he continued on that very line of thought and began asking what she thought she would try and do in a time of peace, banking on the unspoken assumption that there would be an ‘other side’. It wasn’t so easy to imagine, but that didn’t make it a pointless endeavour. Even if it seemed like a wish rather than a possibility.

“Not always,” she retorted, cheekily, but the brief levity faded when he rephrased his question. Did she see herself doing anything else, other than this, when the true respite came? “What is it that knights do in times of peace?” A question more for herself than anything, “Peacekeeping?” She smiled faintly, momentarily, “Try to be ‘normal people’?” Vague, open-ended; it wasn’t something she had been able to give much thought. Not with everything else she had to consider. She was silent again for a few moments, caught in whether to say anything about 'it' or not. Finally, she relented - it was going to have to be said, sooner or later.

“The reality is," she took a sharp breath, dropping her head back against the wall, again, "that no matter what I wish to do, I will either have to leave this all behind and take my grandmother’s place, or… renounce my claim when the time comes and,” she sighed heavily, “likely never set foot on Eshan again.” The older she got, the harder it became to ignore that expectation. “I don’t know when that will be; the Matriarch is in good health, but…”

Her brow knit tensely, both at having spoken that truth, and the knot of emotion it provoked. She wasn’t on the verge of tears, no, far from it, but it was frustrating. She shrugged.

“...that's what haunts my thoughts when I look ahead. I believe in what we’re doing, Kriegan, the Empire, all of it,” she admitted, turning her gaze toward him again, “but I’m not certain how to reconcile all of this. Or if it even can be.... or if I even want to." She laughed faintly, after another moment, looking vaguely apologetic, "I'm sorry that's... terribly heavy and depressing," she gave him a firm smile, "how about you? What do you think you'll do when peace finally comes?"

​

 

[Kriegan Tavlar]

PRODIGAL SON
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION | ENIGMA PLATOON
8th AIRBORNE BATTALION 'ALL-IMPERIAL'
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Siyndacha Aerin
​

It was a familiar longing and obligation that she spoke of. Being the wayward heir of a kingdom and homeland far from where she dwelled now. In that sense, on a far more intangible level, Kriegan was beginning to feel the same swelling pressure about him.

This life, this wouldn’t be enough. Even if he were to ascend to the greatest heights of military command- he would still be lesser. He would still be dwarfed in the shadow of those who had come before him. But for her, the threat of having to press her claim was far more material. He could imagine now, an Imperial seizure of power to place her on the throne of Eshan. A lofty ambition perhaps, but with the state of the Galaxy as it was- an excursion into the decrepit Concord space did not seem so far off.

“You’d do fine if it ever came to such an even that you had to take the throne, I’m sure of it.” He said in reassurance. He was genuine in the claim, she carried herself in a way fit for the warrior queen she might’ve been destined to become at birth.

“I don’t think you’d ever have to separate the two obligations, of returning home and serving the Empire. The Empire has made right in returning the rightful rulers to the worlds they belong to. The Third Imperial Civil War saw many exiles end. Galidraan, Serenno, Mandalore…perhaps you’re next.” He explained.

“If that time comes, I believe the Empire will take care of it’s own and make right on your claim. I hope to see that day, as a matter of fact. I hope to be there at your side when it does come.” He says, bringing a hand toward her to run through her argent locks in a smooth, almost idle caress.

“If that is what you want after all…” He said, shifting his gaze to match hers.

“I’m beginning to form the impression all the same that…I may be destined for similar, in the Empire. Beyond…all of this.” He admitted.

 

[Siyndacha Aerin]

ERRANT HEIR
THE ORDER OF IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
→
501st STORMTROOPER LEGION
NIV DISSIDENT AGGRESSOR
Kriegan Tavlar

Though she had been speaking just to the expectation put upon her to assume her place as matriarch of her clan, he hadn’t exactly misinterpreted her words. She knew the history of her forebears: when the Echani Command was the ruling council of the formerly-united six worlds that the Echani held dominion over, it was her clan that sat on the council for Eshan, for the brunt of that history.

The throne by that definition was her right, and it would be a bald-faced lie to say that she hadn’t even once considered the possibility… but that there was even a throne in the first place was a relatively recent addition to Echani culture, born out of the hazy centuries dominated by the galactic plague. The monarchy had brought stability in their journey out of so much loss. It was what her people had chosen, and continued to choose, but the name that sat on that throne wasn’t Echani. Wasn’t hers.

What it was… was an indelible mark. A stubborn stain that she couldn’t be certain the woman that held it and the title of Queen, at present, was entirely separate from. Not to mention the strife that had continued to plague the world even after what that earlier conflict had taken from her, even after she had been ripped from what she had once called home. Eshan, by all accounts, was still taking the slow pace it saw as necessary to rebuild, as aesthetic… beauty was important to the people. Even she hadn’t entirely escaped that aspect of the culture, but when it came to the self it wasn't vanity, it was preparedness.

To be ready for, quite literally, anything at all.

All in all, his reassurances went a ways to further solidifying that if. His hopes to be present and alongside her in the endeavour, however, built a fairly clear picture in her mind, and when he put a hand into her hair, the brief moment where her eyes slipped shut and her head shifted to press into that touch wasn’t a measured decision. It was an involuntary reflex, yet one born out of the fact that she could - and had - let her guard down around him.

“I will want it if… when the day comes,” Siyn replied, holding his gaze, placing a hand on his outstretched arm, “if that is what it will take to bring Eshan into alignment.”

It wasn’t a straightforward thing, but it was progress in how she felt about it. As he went into the subject of his own future, she was content to leave the matter of her own where it was - put a pin in it, so to speak - because if he was alluding to what she thought he was, it didn’t align with what she knew to be the case. What many knew to be the case.

Not that this was an issue when her own beliefs didn't align with what was purported to be the case for much of the Order, including its head. No, but it did make her curious about what was causing that impression.

“How do you mean?”