Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Private Two Skies (Yula)

Ketaris found some measure of peace with a garrison of Stormtroopers allocated to the capital city. The dissidents who remained were now in holding and slowly being processed; and the King sat forward in his chair, hands folded. His gaze remained locked on the map ahead of him, and a series of pins tabbed across the surface. Multiple cities on Ketaris were undergoing legislative dissolution, and tax bureaus implemented.

Despite friction from people who disliked the lack of representation, there was an overall positive response. The King had brought swift reform to multiple archaic policies involving the judiciary process and, more prominently, restored the Planet's university. Much of the tax money was already diverted to funding, and many gifted students from across the Galaxy were already applying.

Their economy visibly began to turn around in a matter of weeks. Still, Enlil was fatigued. The work of a leader combined with the war efforts abroad were wearing on him. He had braces on his torso where he was only allowed limited range of motion after his bones were displaced or broken.

His mind was still elsewhere.

"My lord, a visitor- no, you must wait, you can't...!"

Enlil glanced up and his focus returned. "What is going on out there?" he boomed.

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
“It’s fine.” She assured the guard with a wave of her hand. Aiming to step past him, he shifted to block her path.

“You must understand-stop moving! That in order to—protocol dictates that—Miss!”

“It’s fine!” Yula continued to reassure him in a tone that could only be described as ‘aggressively dramatic’. “He won’t mind. We’re friends; you’ll see.” The Zeltron managed to cheerfully outmaneuver the guard, brushing past him and forcing her entry into the room.

The diplomatic route would have taken much, much longer and eschewed the surprise of her visit.

She managed to stagger in as Enlil had taken notice of the situation. Taking a moment to orient herself, she grinned brightly at the King’s stately demeanor.

“Regal as ever, Enlil.” Yula gave him a mock bow as an exaggerated gesture of greeting. “Man, your guards are really—what happened?” The congenial nature dropped from her face as she paced forward to inspect the braces.

Enlil Enlil
 
"Sir, I apologize, she-"

"That will be all," he motioned dismissively with his hand. He kept his expression hidden from the bewildered guard behind his hands. "I will handle things from here."

"Sir, I didn't even get to check her for weapons!"

"That will be all, Lieutenant."

The Stormtrooper gave a stiff salute as he left the room with a worried expression on his face. If the King were assassinated on his watch... oh god, he didn't want to think about it.

The King's gaze shifted toward the Zeltron woman now and softened a bit. Enlil took a deep breath, then lowered his arms. "You know, to mock a King in his own halls is a grave offense, Miss Perl," he told her, only half serious. "You ought tread carefully, lest I deign to punish you."

Before he could finish speaking, she was directly over him, looking down and inspecting his wound dressings. His ruby gaze locked on her face and did not waver. "Battle," he explained. "To liberate Dantooine from the Sith Eternal." He averted his gaze. "It was a failed effort. They held fast. Many lives were lost."

She was so close.

"Take a seat if you like," he gestured toward any of the available chairs. "Would you like some wine?"

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
“Well then,” Her head cocked to the side as she searched his face for the barest thread of a smile. “Lock me up in the dungeon, if you must.” She thrust her hands forward, wrists touching as if these were held by a mock pair of invisible cuffs. Up and down went the eyebrows.

She was used to his chiding, and he was used to her ludicrous nature. As much as they clashed, they acted as a balance for one another.

Her hands fell to her sides as she inspected the braces, restraining the urge to touch them in concern. Zeltrons were very touch-driven, and Yula had learned that Enlil wasn’t particularly used to that sort of affection. Or affection, really.

“I heard about that.” Yula murmured, scratching at the back of her head when he looked away. She’d kept her hair in a sharp, chin-length bob while they ran missions with the OPA. Since she’d left for the core, it had grown out into mane of dark waves. “I’m sorry.” It was all she could offer, but it was spoken with sincerity wrought from her own dealing with the galaxy’s Sith. “I’m glad you made it out.”

Suddenly cognizant of the space between them, she waltzed back and sank into one of the chairs, legs kicked over the armrest. “Sure.” Offering a tight smile, Yula glanced back to the door where the stormtrooper had disappeared. No doubt that the anxious guard was waiting on the other side.

“You keep…interesting company nowadays.” The way her nose wrinkled told him just how interesting she thought his company was.

Enlil Enlil
 
"Don't tempt me, they're very busy recently," he said of the dungeon, brushing hair away from his face as he was reminded of just how busy the past week had been. He appreciated her presence, truth be told. Yula was always funny when seriousness took things to a grim place. They were yin and yang. She brought bright, cheery warmth to his cold, iron fist nature.

Her concern instantly made him realize that there were people who had the capacity to care for him, and not just as a King. It was harder to digest than he liked. Everything went more smoothly when no one cared about him. When they thought he was cruel and heartless, he had no problem doing his duty.

Enlil got a better look at her when she spoke again, his gaze over her face and the lengthy hair that looked entirely different from what he remembered. He was always youthful and vibrant, but now he had a weary look. Heavy is the head, it was said.

"I did what I had to do," he replied. "Every loss is worth a thousand victories. We will not make the same mistakes."

She set herself further away than he liked, and he refused to admit to himself that he wanted her closer. This was closer than she had been in many months. This was close enough.

"You look good." His words were sudden, and seemed to come from nowhere. It was the closest he gave to a proper compliment. He knew what would happen if he told her more than that. "I am glad to see that you're well."

Her expression when she referred to his newfound allies told him everything she needed to know. Yula did not approve. She had always been a free spirit and easy going woman. He admired that about her.

"I believe in the law, and in order, Yula," he said grimly. "I watched the Outer Rim descend into Chaos while we were powerless to do anything. The best thing I can do is what I was born to do." He gestured behind him, indicating Ketaris.

"The Imperium has given me a way to do so."

He reached for the bottle and poured her a glass. Sweet wine, for visitors. A Riesling. The King offered it across the table. "What have you been doing?" he asked, knowing that the answer might not be easy for him to swallow. The last time he'd seen her, she was pilfering food from a party.

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
Both brows went up when he mentioned the dungeons being busy.

He looked…tired.

“Thanks.” She smiled wryly in response to his compliment, sipping gingerly at the wine in a way she knew he’d approve of. Apparently, she’d been drinking it wrong all these years, and Enlil had been swift to correct her during their first meeting. “It’s good.” She was careful not to say much else, recalling the time she’d compared one of his meticulously selected vintages to the gallon bottle she’d gotten on discount at a Coruscant starport. The one that he’d spat out and declared to prefer dirty river water over. Yula’s palette was not overly discerning.

Although he’d yelled at her loud enough for the entire city-planet to hear, it was a pleasant, humanizing memory that brought a fond smile to her face. The warmth faded from it as the conversation progressed.

“I know what you believe in.”
Staring down into her glass, she gave the rich red liquid a brief swirl. Maybe he’d be surprised by the lack of mockery in her voice, or the exhaustion that leaked through her observational tone.

Enlil always had the severe manner of a ruler, but this was the first time she’d seen it in action. Here he was, in his element.

“Oh you know,”
She exhaled, injecting some good nature back into her tone. “This and that. Believe it or not, I ran with the Silver Jedi for a while. My sisters both trained there, so somebody had to keep an eye on ‘em.” Nevermind the fact that one sister had been taken by the Sith, and the other had gone through great lengths to get her back. Few things could shame Yula, and failing to protect her family was one of them. “But you know me, the Jedi thing didn’t work out. So I left.” Her tone was lax, but her words were full of careful steps to avoid the uncomfortable truth of the situation. Not that he wouldn’t be able to guess half of it, given recent galactic events.

Nida’s return had coincided with the Jedi’s decision to ally with the Sith. Yula had briefly considered turning against them as other had, but elected to take her leave instead. She could make herself useful elsewhere, hopefully.

“So!” She leaned forward and placed the glass on the table. “How’d you end up with the Imps?” Enlil knew her feelings on imperials, particularly the first iteration of the First Order. Seeing so many stormtroopers on Ketaris had made her uneasy, as if she were slipping her way through enemy lines. But it wasn't herself that she was worried about.

Begrudgingly, she had to hand it to the New Imperials. They brought a measure of stability and she’d been careful to give them a wide berth.

Enlil Enlil
 
He recalled a time when he watched her subdue a criminal with barely any effort. Yula was much more street savvy than he would ever be. She had a way with people. Where he was direct and commanding, she knew how to talk to them, to find out what they were thinking, feeling, and appeal to their sensibilities. She always somehow knew how to read a room. It was a skill he didn't need, at least he hadn't in his own kingdom. The King always set the mood and the tone. Anything less was banal.

Or, that was what he'd always believed. The Zeltron in front of him constantly challenged his beliefs, even tried his patience. With no fear for retribution, she went far beyond anything that Enlil would have ever allowed anyone else. Perhaps it was because they worked together, or spent so much time in each other's company.

He stopped questioning it; but with her here, now, the uncertainty surrounding it returned to him.

When the happiness left her voice, he couldn't help but feel he'd caged a bird and clipped its wings. His gaze fled from her and focused back on the map of Ketaris. Duty always brought him back to focus.

It always...

Her voice tore his attention back toward her. "Ah, the Jedi," he replied. "I am familiar with them. I fought in defense of Yurb alongside the Silver Jedi." Enlil reached over the map and pulled a pin. After a moment of thought, he moved it to another point on the surface and pressed it firm. "I do not find fault in that," he said when she told him that she had not jived with them. "I know that kind of structure is not favorable to you."

For all of his talk about order, structure, and law, he knew Yula was less interested in the form and much more preoccupied with function. She didn't care about rules- she cared about what was right. He admired her for it. Her heart was in a good place.

"I learned about the nature of the Sith and their ilk on Siskeen," he told her. "I saw what pulled the strings the Confederacy, I learned that the roots ran deeper. I had a moral obligation to see their kind routed."

The Imperium sought the destruction of the Sith. An implementation of order, a rule of law. They shared in that cause. If Tavlar ever wavered from that into baseless tyranny and rule for his own satisfaction, Enlil would bring it to ruin himself.

"Ketaris needed direction. I have set them on the path."

He found himself looking at her after he finished speaking. Enlil turned his gaze to his own glass and refilled it. "I am glad that you came to see me, despite your feelings on my... compatriots."

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
Last edited:
Perched with her legs unceremoniously draped over the arm of the chair, Yula watched Enlil with a newfound interest. That map, and the pin—what was their purpose? Something beyond Yula, something that Enlil understood far better than her. There were entire worlds she didn’t understand, and until right now it hadn’t bothered her.

He didn’t judge her for not being able to find her place among the Jedi. It was a refreshing take, given that Yula came from a Jedi lineage. The Silvers were nice and she’d made some good friends among them, but she was trying to force herself into a box that wouldn’t fit.

That brought them to the Sith, to NIO’s detestation for their ilk, and finally, to Ketaris.

Yula took a long sip of her wine. Part of her was dragging out her response on purpose. When she was done, she shrugged.

“I’ve never been a fan of imperials.” He knew that. He knew it then, and he knew it now. She’d told him of the OPA’s struggles against the First Order, an imperial powerhouse that had made its home in the Outer Rim. Enlil knew that her wariness of militant powers wasn’t as shallow as it had appeared on first glance. She’d seen what they done to those who refused to comply. And yet…

“Yeah, I can admire the work the New Imperial Order has done to combat the Sith.” In the end, they shared a common enemy. As far apart as Yula and Enlil were in personal ideology, the end goal was typically the same.

But now, seeing him standing there with the regal bearing of a King, it reminded her of who he was. On the surface, Enlil was exactly the same as he’d been when they ran jobs with the OPA. Now, he’d found a place to put his full breadth of skills to work. The wound at his side and the exhaustion lining his eyes spoke to Enlil’s dedication as a leader.

She shook her head, pursing her lips into a sour smile. “You never were in it for the power or wealth, huh.” Draining the glass, she held it out to him with a waggle for more. “Just the people.” If this had been their first meeting, she wouldn’t have believe it. But seeing him work with a bunch of rag-tag Judges, she’d gotten a better sense for what Enlil was about. Hopefully.

“You’re happy here?” She watched him carefully. “Hard to tell with the lack of…you know.” She waved a finger in front of her mouth, tracing the outline of an exaggerated smile.

Enlil Enlil
 
He finished his wine as she spoke, taking a sip now and then. The King focused on the glass, allowing himself to listen while focused on her words and nothing else. There was clarity in a glass if you knew where to look. His father said that, once.

"I know," he said when she reiterated her disdain for Imperialism. Tyranny that masqueraded as leadership often blurred the lines when others looked on. It was easy to generalize every Imperialist state as the same. Enlil wanted to believe that what he was doing was wholly different from Yula's horrific experience. Any man would want to believe that.

In the end, he wouldn't make her that promise. He didn't want to lie to Yula, not even about something he believed in. There were gray areas in the morality of the Imperium, places where order far outweighed overall humanitarian efforts. Much to his own contempt.

Enlil was born in a time when the King's actions were absolute and decisions were made with the common man in mind. His father had taught him about benevolence, but the young man learned from watching. Too great of kindness quickly leaned into folly. A leader had to learn pragmatism.

Yula's actions, while questionable at times, were always made toward good. Morally good, whether lawful or otherwise: the woman placed her love and compassion for others far above what a court might find damning. He admired that about her, even if at the core of who he was, Enlil could never emulate it.

When she asked for more of the wine, he took the bottle in hand and poured more in dour silence. She asked about his motivation, and his eyes moved once more to Yula with severity in them. There was nothing more important to him than the people.

"Tha's right," he said. It seemed humorous after all that time, she only now asked that. He assumed that she'd known as much all along. But then... they never much spoke about his views on leadership, or being a King. He always avoided talking about it, other than her jokes.

He froze completely in the next moment. She asked about how he felt. Yula was interested in his happiness. He felt a pain in his heart that he had not known since...

...are you really content to live this way, my King? To live for others, not yourself? Until the day you die?

Enlil stared at Yula with a gleam in his eyes that betrayed deep, harrowing anguish. He blinked away a tear that threatened at the edge of his gaze and turned his head. When he finished pouring her drink, the King brought the bottle itself to his lips and swallowed a healthy gulp of wine.

"My happiness is intangible to my duty," he told her. "If my people are happy, then I have done my job well."

It wasn't wrong, but it wasn't the whole answer, either. There were only two people who had ever brought Enlil regret to the life he was born into. Yula Perl was the second.

How he truly felt?

It broke his heart. To see her there, telling him that he wasn't smiling felt like dangling so many things he could never have in front of his face. But just having her there at all gave him a comfort and closure about it at the same time. The King would saddle any number of burdens or endure any amount of pain just to be able to have a conversation like this with her.

And so, he smiled.

"...you are at times crueler than any Empire, Yula."

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
When they’d first met, Yula was struck by Enlil’s ardent belief that it was his destiny to self-sacrifice.

Who the hell told you that?

Eventually, gradually, she’d come to realize that the King hadn’t known any other life. He’d been raised to rule, which meant putting his needs so far on the backburner that at times that they were simply forgotten. Everything else had to come first. Like a pig for slaughter.

The thoughtful silence between them wasn’t particularly uncomfortable. Yula was content to curl up in her chair, sip her drink and watch the gears turn in Enlil’s head. The look in his eyes though, that was new. Impervious to scoldings and glares as she was, there was severe about his gaze directed at her. Then he drank directly from the bottle, well, like her. The lack of refinement was curious, and sparked her concern further.

“Heh.”

A crafty smile snaked onto lips. Did the King know what an empath was?

“Good to be renown for something, I guess.”

She sipped at her glass, not trying to fill the silence but trying to space her thoughts into a more natural rhythm. “I’m glad that you’ve found a place where you feel like you’re making a difference.” Constant wariness for his companions aside, she wanted Enlil to be happy. If he couldn’t be happy, then being fulfilled was the next best thing. Ketaris seemed to do one of those, or so she’d hoped.

“Still,” Leaning forward, she waited for his eyes to catch her own. “I’m not gonna trash your new friends for the sake of it, but-“ Yula chewed the inside of her cheek. “-the Imperials turned their guns on their Sith pals pretty quick. Don’t get me wrong—getting rid of the Sith wasn’t the bad part. I’m not even sure if it was a long-con or just a good opportunity. But the point is, they’ve turned on their allies before. What’s to stop them from doing it again?”

She twirled the stem of the glass in her hand with a bit more ferocity than the delicate crystal would allow, the casual softness of her eyes hardening while the smoothness of her features sharpened.

“How can you trust them, Enlil?”

Enlil Enlil
 
Last edited:
They locked eyes as she expressed concern. It was true, and he knew it. The New Imperial Order had as little love for Jedi as they did Sith, and their indoctrination of Force Users into the Knighthood was as mechanical as it was utilitarian. The fact that he did not take to any specific doctrine kept him out of the line of fire for now, but how long that might stay true was uncertain.

How can you trust them?

Was this manipulation? Did she realize how poisonous the words were, or that coming from her they carried a world's weight? He bit back the sorrow and subsequent rage that threatened to well up inside him at the very notion she might do that.

Yula and Enlil did have that kind of trust. For all the disapproval he felt toward some decisions she made, her judgment was never skewed toward evil. She genuinely wanted to serve a greater good.

So, he asked.

"Do you say this out of genuine concern, or because you don't want me to stay?"

He took another swig from the bottle. "It's not that I don't believe that you have my best interests in mind, but I have never had any cause to believe you'd fret over me."

There was a hint of absurdity in the query that made him scrutinize himself. Their relationship was only ever as personal as it needed to be when they were in the Outer Rim. Mostly business, at times banter, and he was sure any feelings that he'd formed were one sided. She was a free spirit, and where she found happiness, he found contentment.

Now she was expressing something more than general concern, and he had to rethink what he thought he knew. This was among the few times where his resolve ever wavered.

"Not that I don't welcome it," he added after a moment. "It is... nice to think that you do care more than I assumed."

He wanted that to be true. Instead of cold, calculated pragmatism, Enlil found himself yearning. With a long, deep breath, he struggled to root himself in reason once more. By breaking eye contact, he now sought to extinguish that flame of hope.

It did not die out.

"The truth is that I will have to live with the possibility that they may turn on me," he said plainly. "It is for Ketaris, not myself, that I took up this position. If it serves Ketaris to see me dead..."

That was always how he saw things, though only now when he said it aloud did it sting.

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 
“If it serves Ketaris to see me dead…”

Until now, Yula’s attention came in the form of thoughtful silence. Her focus was on Enlil’s tone, his posture, the subtlety of his feelings around her question as they emanated from the King’s mind.

Her nostrils flared as her hand curled into the leg of her pants where it rested. “I wouldn’t be sitting here,” She seethed, making no attempt to hide her disdain. “Questioning your decision if I didn’t care about what happens to you, Enlil.”

Did he think that after all of the time they’d spent together, that their relationship was strictly business?

In an instant she was on her feet, unfolding from her perch on the chair and hovering over the seated man with no regard for his personal space.

“We’re different people, En. We always have been. I’m not surprised that you’ve gravitated towards a path with more stability and structure than what the Outer Rim can offer. But we’re not running around dispensing vigilante justice on backwater worlds anymore. If someone wanted to leave the Judges, it was as simple as disappearing. That’s it.”

Her fingers curled and uncurled, clenched and unclenched in agitation. Part of her that didn’t want to see Enlil become something she hated, and her reasoning wasn’t as narrow as it seemed. Yula feared intense dedication if it meant cutting off your potential escape routes.

“If things go south, you’ve put yourself in a position that would make it very difficult for you to leave. I want to know that you’re making the right choice, that you’ve considered as many outcomes as you can imagine, and then some.”

Of course, he had—he was a King, wasn’t he? Diplomacy was a skill. The New Imperials played to his strengths, why wouldn’t he be drawn towards a place where he felt like he could make a difference?

A difference he was willing to die for.

Yula jabbed a finger sharply at his chest, subverting her urge to knock over the wine bottle. “Do you honestly think, She snarled, hurt and confused and plain angry. “That this is the only way that you can matter?”

Enlil Enlil
 
She was in his face in an instant.

His eyes fixed on her as broke the barrier no one ever crossed. A single word, elevated tone of voice, and Stormtroopers could have been through the door in an instant. The thought never crossed his mind- it never had to. He didn't flinch when she got close.

That she would get this upset, this angry because of him was more than he'd ever imagined. The King had never had a friend like Yula. He'd never had others who cared the way she did, who gave in to the emotions and displayed their distaste for his actions or decisions.

Yula was in every sense the free spirit he could never be.

When her finger touched his chest, his gilded talons left the wine forgotten at his side, spilling it over into a pool on the floor. He reached across beneath her, wresting the gauntlet away from his hand.

Beneath it, the flesh had withered. Blackened, all but dead, covered in scar tissue and raw, scabbed over burns. The cost of godlike power was visibly evident.

He held the hand up so that she could see it. It was compounding series of wounds, something that he had never shown anyone. "Yula," he said quietly.

"A person can matter in many ways," Enlil never raised his voice. He did not shout at her, nor did he find himself angry. This was something precious, tender. He loved that she was her, that she did not want to see him hurt or worse. He loved that someone finally cared enough to step forward and do this for him.

He loved...

"I would be a fool to deny that life has many paths to take," the withered husk retreated to his lap, and he reached up with the other now. His fingers moved to stroke her cheek affectionately. "But this is where I can matter the most."

He closed his eyes and the faintest hint of a smile crept across his lips.

"I've never felt a need to run in my life," Enlil said. "From the time I was very young, I learned to see things that I do through to completion. Even my greatest failures I have watched end in disaster."

When he looked up again, he met her gaze with a real smile.

"I suppose I have some regrets," he said at last. The greatest regret of all was the decision he'd just made, quietly. "But everyone has those."

Yula Perl Yula Perl
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom