The Stars That Bound Us... [Flashback]

[Other Space Kaiden]

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Irridius drifted away below the Ossus stars, eyes searching the sparkling canvas above him. Dozens of regulations had been broken just to set foot on the hull, but the Captain wasn't paying that any mind. Not now, not while he knew his purpose was out there somewhere. It may have been just a sparkling light in that moment, but one of those hundreds of glimmers was where he could belong. A place where all those stories of the Core Worlds were true, there had to be.

"Just one"

Reaching into the air, Irridius' white glove eclipsed hundreds of lights in an instant. Hundreds of opportunities to find his home. Somewhere, he thought to himself, closing his hand into a fist, grasping the dreams before they faded with the coming dawn,

It's out there, I'll find it.

Turning his hand over, Irridius saw the specks of hull grime that had clung to the palms of his gloves. A deep, sad sigh was followed by the retrieval of a microfiber cloth from his back pocket. Irridius rubbed at the stains obsessively, irritation quickly becoming anger as the specks refused to come off. Jumping to a kneel on the blanket he'd laid down, Irridius screamed in unwelcome anger as he ripped the gloves off and threw them over the side of the Star Liberator. He quickly grabbed the anti-bacterial spray from his pocket and rapidly sprayed it onto both his hands.

His hands were chapping in the breeze by the time the bottle was empty. Dropping it to the hull, The Captain rubbed them together obsessively, his breath finally slowing. His eyes darted his surroundings, a sudden veil of loneliness falling over him. His hands slowed to a crawl in their wringing...Irridius' eyes falling to the datapad that had led him here tonight.

It sat, partially protruding from the blanket he'd battered in his rage.

Dear Captain Irridius, the screen read, we write to inform you that your test scores were extraordinary. However, the board feels as if your skills are better suited...

The message sprawled on beneath the blanket, but he already knew what it said. Slumping to the blanket, Irridius cast his eyes to the festivities below. The crew was having a toast in memory of The Republic, to what it used to be anyway. Recent changes had destroyed a lot of hope for the men and in these times all they could rely on was each other.

He knew he wasn't welcome. A sigh, the stifling of a tear and then a lustful gaze to the swirling heavens above...

 

[Keira Priest]

Music

It had been a long few months. Nearly immediately after their new assignment the clones had been deployed on two major battlefields, first Contruum and then Balmorra, both only weeks apart. Since then near-constant training had eclipsed them, as no one wanted to be caught off guard by another surprise invasion. Only recently had they been afforded the opportunity to relax from their otherwise strenuous regimen, landing on the Jedi-held world of Ossus for some much needed R&R before the next battlefield. While it had only been a fraction of time in reality, it felt like ages since she and the men had simply been able to exist among each other in the same space as individuals, rather than smaller pieces of a collective whole.

Although her muscles still ached from days spent drilling with the men she walked among them, half too stubborn and far too proud to merely sit to the side and observe. At this point the merrymaking was well on its way, with a number of the clones already drunk or well on their way to an equivalent. "Oi, al'verde!"
Speak of the devil, she turned, "'Lek, vod?"
Though nearly drunk she gave him credit for still being able to stand as he began to lead the men in the singing of Buy'ce Gal, Buy'ce Tal, a traditional Mandalorian drinking song that they had no doubt picked up from the vode that trained them. With a crooked grin she joined in, finding herself caught in the middle of throngs of the men with arms thrown about each other's shoulders as they sang and danced together. This was the first time any of them had been anywhere close to home in quite awhile, and it was evident by the sheer carelessness that enveloped the group in that moment. Regulation had been thrown out the window long ago, and many were at this point barely coherent enough to stand, let alone function as the soldiers the majority of the Republic saw them as. In her eyes, however, this was where they belonged, among their brothers and sisters as family.

A flash of movement caught her eye, and had she been anywhere else but in Republic space she would have instantly been on alert. Forcibly slowed reflexes afforded her more time to process what had happened, and eventually she recognized the fallen object for what it was: regulation gloves only seen within the navy. Her eyes drew upwards to the hull of the landed ship, but she was unable to discern anyone atop due to the hundreds of meters that separated the top from the ground. Still, what had happened prompted further investigation, and so she spoke quiet goodbyes and assurances that yes, she would return later, there was just business elsewhere that concerned her at the moment.

And so with curious eyes following her she boarded the vessel that had amounted to home in the past few weeks, walking its halls no different than being groundside. Eventually patient steps led her to a maintenance port that had been left open, and with just a bit of applied force she was able to open it enough to allow her to crawl through the tight quarters of the maintenance shaft, the impromptu pathway finally allowing her access to the hull of the ship. Immediately she recognized the difference, temperatures atop the transport much cooler than what it had been on the ground. Then again, the few bonfires likely helped matters as well. The clones weren't the sort to take relaxation lightly.

Watching her step she pressed onward, her progress slowing to a halt as eventually the one responsible for the fallen gloves came into sight. Taking a more careful approach she took a few more cautious steps forward, offering a small smile, "Su'cuy. What brings you up here?"

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

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[member="Keira Ticon"]

What had begun as a therapeutic self-healing had twisted into something darker after his sudden outburst, the stars didn't represent his future. They represented his failures. What he could have had if hadn't been tricked into thinking he could make something of himself in The Republic. Lucien's eyes became glossy as he zoned into the stars, lost dreams fading into the orange tide of dawn as the sun began rising over the horizon. What could he have become...

"Su'cuy. What brings you up here?"

Lucien jumped, turning over his shoulder to see a warming face. Shock quickly turned to a sweet smile that hooked the corner of his mouth. "Miss Ticon..." Lucien sighed in relief turning away nervously as he struggled to think of what to say. He couldn't tell her he was questioning his loyalty to The Republic. What would she think of him? She would be disgusted.

"I'm...I'm afraid I was feeling rather ill, I thought perhaps the air here would help." A lie, he hadn't been sick since he started working as a teenager on Elrood, where he had learned the importance of keeping a cleanly self-image and living space.

Tucking his chapped and shaking hands into his uniform pockets, Irridius grabbed at the internal fabrics to give physical release of the pain in his skin. "Thank you for seeing to me."

Lucien managed sheepishly, tucking himself into his own uniform as he looked out over the vast landscape of Ossus. He felt something warm in himself when she came closer. He always did when she came to converse with him. She was the one officer in the entirety of the Republic who gave him the respect he had always shown to those on his crew but neve received in return. He could count on her in his own way, not that he would ever dream of telling her what to do.

She was simply...different than anyone else he had met in his life. Lucien stayed silent, eyes focused on the stars once more.

 

[Keira Priest]

Taking a few more steps forward Keira slowly lowered herself to sit on the blanket next to him, unable to sit comfortably due to the datapad hidden beneath. With a careful hand she removed it so she could position herself, sitting shoulder-to-shoulder with the only other individual that had been with her through the entirety of her service to the Republic in a manner similar to the army she commanded. Before setting the datapad aside she skimmed over the document still pulled up on the screen, placing it gently behind them and looking to Irridius with a careful, gentle smile. "Lucien, don't place your worth on what the board has to say. They don't understand anything about military life, nor do they know what we go through every day. None of the politicians and those that work behind the scenes of the war get it."

Her gaze followed his to the stars above, and for a moment all she did was watch those pinpricks of light alongside him, her mind wandering to places likely far different than his own. Rather than lingering on what could have been, her thoughts instead transitioned to what had been and what would be in the future, her mind clinging for a prolonged moment on memories of Corellia and what had once been home, ending on the sight of sirens flashing in her mind's eye. Her facial muscles twitched minutely, a microexpression that only barely indicated the emotions shifting tumultuously beneath the surface. She had come a long way since her childhood on Corellia, but it was still an intrinsic part of her.

Forcibly she tore her eyes away, the muscles of her jaw working slowly as she reminded herself where she sat presently and what that meant for her. She was no longer the daughter of a crime lord but rather the commander of the second Grand Army of the Republic, a soldier for peace rather than one who worked behind the backs of the law for nothing more than her own gain. She was different now, and yet it was still something she had to remind herself of some days, that she had long since left her troubled past behind. Although it had been years there were still days where she could recall nothing else, the trauma firmly rooted no matter how she tried to dislodge it.

But she was here to speak with him, not dwell on her own war-wounds. Her hand waved dismissively at his use of honorifics when referring to her. "Please, just call me Keira. There isn't a need for the etiquette. We're all family here, and that means you as well." While he may not have been as completely woven into the fabric of the clone army as she was, and while he didn't necessarily entirely understand the nuances of the culture that bound her and the men together, he was still part of it all the same. "You don't have to thank me for anything. We're all brothers here, all of the same clan." Whether he entirely understood the implications or not, it was the truth. Regardless of how the rest of the crew or the men treated him, he would always be welcome.

"You can be entirely truthful with me, I want you to understand that." She spoke seemingly out of the blue, but as much as she wanted to be able to ignore the entirety of the ethereal some days, it was a sixth sense that was impossible to switch off. While his words may have suggested otherwise, she knew there was something deeper bothering him that he didn't wish to speak of in their time together. "Regardless of what it is that is troubling you, you can always speak your mind. Free speech is invaluable, and it's never something you're without in the company of myself or my men. The Republic wouldn't appreciate half the things they're likely saying down there, nor would they entirely enjoy the fact that they're all less than sober when it's time for their day to begin. But we do it anyway, because we're family, and because each individual here is more than what any government and military makes them out to be. No matter if the Republic likes it or not, we're aliit, and nothing will change that."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

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Keira Ticon didn't so much as smile than simply twist her frown into something reminiscent of happiness. It stood out to him the most, something that had drawn him to her in the first place. She managed to optimize how he felt on the inside with the way she carried herself, the way she feigned her emotions without noticing it. But in that moment, the twisted frown seemed...genuine and in that moment he realized something about this woman. She was beautiful. It wasn't something he had taken note of before, nor given much thought. He found it a waste of time to lust over anyone in any more than a shallow, pleasure based capacity. Truth was that he drove people away in mobs and those that didn't flee puppeteered him like the lobby humping politicians who'd denied him a promotion for being "too skilled in his current position".

But here, in the morning hours of Ossus, golden streaks of light rippling through her hair he finally saw it. Saw her for what she was. " Thank you...Keira," he said with a relief that transferred to his words, "I'm afraid I don't belong amongst your clones. They do not appreciate my company, I've long ceased inquiring as to why."

Looking down to the stuttering, stumbling bafoons below, Irridius couldn't help crinkle his face in disgust. Not for what they were or what they did, but at the thought of how much clutter there must be and how many drinks were being spilled; all by those who denied him basic courtesy outside of military protocol. He had tried to participate in both Clone gatherings and Naval crew festivities but he could sense it on them all whenever he entered. The cold stares, the shifting eyes. He wasn't welcome among them.

"I know I can trust you Keira more than any other," Turning, he smiled warmly from ear to ear, "I have a question for you."

There was a long pause as he looked out into the stars, taking in a deep breath and searching the peach horizon for the sun that would be peeking over the distance any second now. "Do you belong here? I don't mean to insinuate you don't but...do you feel as if you belong where we are now?"

 

[Keira Priest]

It was a question Keira didn't seem to acknowledge being asked, but if one looked closely enough they would see the crinkle of her brow, the only indication that she was processing what had been said. For a long while she looked out at the beginning of the dawn, gaze shifting to look upon her men far below. They may have been the closest she'd come to family in a long time, and she may have found her place among them, but what he referred to was the bigger picture, something she had almost never considered. Her first loyalty had always been to the army she commanded, nothing more and nothing less, but now he was forcing her to consider the ramifications of her service in a way she'd never before considered.

In truth, it was an inquiry she didn't have the answer to, but she would try for his sake. Her eyes caught briefly on activity below as the men started to make their way into the ship, those still able to walk helping those that couldn't, all of them getting some much needed rest. More like than not the alcohol in their systems would be burned off artificially as opposed to allowing them time to sleep it off, such was the way with the military. There wasn't a moment's rest, even when it seemed otherwise. Such was the case here. "That depends on what you're referring to when you say 'here.' If you speak of the clones, then yes. I've never been more certain of my belonging ever in my life." Except perhaps back on her homeplanet, but that was another time entirely.

"But I'm assuming you're referring to the Republic, else you wouldn't have bothered to ask." There was another pause, in which she once more mulled over her words. It was no secret how some of the men and women of the army felt about the nation which they were quite literally bred to serve, and commonly her opinion was just as uncensored. But somehow it became more difficult to speak when she was alone with a single individual, as if facing her words was the hardest part of the equation. "I won't lie to you. I'm not certain of my place in the Republic - of our place among them." She corrected herself, referring to the clones as well, "But I am certain of one thing, that I know.

"I'm certain that my sole intention is to keep each and every individual under my command as safe and free from harm as I can manage. Everyone here is family one way or the other, and I would do anything for them, including sacrifice my own life if it came to that. I've watched all of them grow into themselves in a galaxy that doesn't seem to want them, and I've seen them fight against all odds to remain alive in service of a government that would seemingly rather forget they exist. If my ability to protect them hinges on me being part of a nation I don't entirely agree with and following orders that may sometimes go against even myself, then so be it. I'm willing to do so if it means all of them get to live another day."

Awhile after she spoke there was silence, but it was one far less tense than before. She seemed to relax just a fraction more, but there was always that persistent uneasiness that clung to her, just as it did most old soldiers. "I know I'm not built to serve something like the Republic forever. I know what some of the politicians say about me. Hell, I know what some of the other personnel say about me where they think I won't hear. But I don't care about any of that. I care about the family I've built here, and I'll do anything to protect it. I will fight for my family until my last breath."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]

 

[Other Space Kaiden]

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Lucien fell silent, grimacing as he took a hand from its pocket. The skin was throbbing, red and raw it burned as the breeze passed through his fingers. Thoughtfully, he stared into the bleeding cracks as the shadow of the waning moon rode up his fingertips as the sun rose to replace it. A deep frown etched itself into his face, fingers creasing and unfurling as he tested the limits of the pain; only causing the chapped skin to tear more.

"That must be...nice" he managed through a sigh of pain, eyes focused on the trickle of blood instead of Keira, "having people to fight for. A family that you can rely on. Never needing to question your place or your existence...Knowing you were meant to be born."

He turned his hand over, inspecting the damage further. "I'm uncertain as to where I belong, Keira. When I came to the Core Worlds it was with the expectation of finding a lie. A better place. Better culture than the one I'd left. Instead, I've discovered only that I have nothing worth fighting for still. Not for the Core Worlds, not for the corrupt Republic and not for my family."

"But I would give so much just to know the feeling you have. To have something...someone to give me purpose.

He paused once more, guilty for what he'd done to himself as he looked at the dead skin between his fingers. He was well into his thirties and was still just as lost as he was in his teenage years. He was, undoubtedly, a freak. The realization consumed him, stealing away his thoughts. So lost in these thoughts was he that it was like being caught in a dream, the phrase slipping between his lips almost subconsciously.

"But who could love a man like me?"

[member="Keira Ticon"]

 

[Keira Priest]

Music

Without a word Keira reached over with her right hand to place it gently over his own, focusing silently for a moment in order to draw upon the healing energies of the Force, a calming warmth spreading over them both as she did her best to tend to his wounds, the cracked skin knitting itself back together seemingly of its own accord. It was rare these days for her to rely on the Force for much of anything other than convenience, but she wanted to help him just as much as she did those men and women she led in training or in battle. Only once she was certain he was in no more pain did she rest her hand over his own, knotting their fingers together and gently squeezing, the gesture meant to be reassuring.

Shifting her hand away in order to give him space she still didn't speak, still working through all he had just said. In some ways he reminded her far too much of herself, and that caused her insides to turn, for the last thing she wanted was for someone else to suffer that same painful uncertainty. A feeling of belonging was all that she had sought out for a long time, and while she wouldn't admit it aloud, she still didn't know if she was certain about the belonging she'd spoken of. Certainly she cared about the clones and only wanted the best for each and every one of them, and there was no doubt she considered them family. But there were days where she didn't know if even here, among millions of brothers and sisters, was where she was meant to be.

"Don't misunderstand me, I've questioned my existence plenty. There were times I tried relentlessly to end my own life, though not in the traditional manner. I would throw myself on battlefield after battlefield, only wanting someone to get lucky enough to kill me, but each time my own survival instinct kept me alive. Each scar I have is a testament to that, and a reminder of why I still walk the galaxy today." Dressed in her street clothes there was no doubt he'd be able to glimpse at a number of the scars that littered her form, one of the most prominent being the healed over cut from a lightsaber that burned its way through her skin from the right side of her throat diagonally downwards. Ironically enough it had been obtained in a sparring match, just as the faded burn on that side of her jaw, and her cybernetic left arm.

Her eyes squinted as the sun began to defiantly proclaim its existence over the horizon, illuminating the hard lines of her face and more prominently displaying the old war-wounds. Even as the very real warmth washed over her there were still pieces of scar tissue entirely numb to the sensation, the phrik of her left arm only glinting in the light, entirely numb to any true feeling, as it had been for fourteen years. It was moments like these that made her realize while she may have been human in her own right, there were parts of her that would never subscribe to that again, even if they were still composed of flesh and blood. She was a mishmash of parts, many of them twisted and broken, but still she persisted.

"You're going to hate yourself a lot." Taking in a breath she looked over at him, not quite managing a smile. "Giving up is going to seem easy, but it's not. Even when you think every part of you is done fighting, deep down something inside still persists. You're going to become your own worst enemy in a war that you won't even recognize you're fighting." She spoke slowly and articulated each word carefully, but there was a wisdom behind everything she said that indicated she undoubtedly had experienced everything she spoke of in that moment. "You're going to want to die almost all the time, and you're going to do everything you can to ensure that, but most likely nothing will work. You'll still live, and it will feel like you're damned to torment yourself with every breath."

Oh, how she had wanted to die for so long a time, and some days still did. It was those moments when her trauma resurfaced that hurt the most, when she felt like she was constantly reliving the same hell that was only sporadically interrupted with what appeared to be peace. There were days where she felt like nothing more than a ticking time bomb waiting for the next explosion, and those were the days she hated the most, when she reverted back to how she used to be. Getting cut deep hurt worse the second time, tearing open the stitches more painful than the original event had ever been. And she had forced herself not to become numb to the pain, whether emotional or physical, every nuance of suffering a welcome reminder that she still drew breath.

"Getting better isn't going to be what you expect. This feeling always going to be with you, whether you like it or not. You just have to learn to push past it and insist on your own well-being. Insist on yourself, because a lot of times you're all that you have left. Insist on yourself, and never stop, because when that happens you might as well be dead."

[member="Lucien E. Irridius"]