Star Wars Star Wars: Episode VII: Twilight of the Dark Force: Maelstrom

Star Wars: Episode VII: Twilight of the Dark Force: Maelstrom

Two holograms met as a battle raged.

One, a man, his left arm missing, face bloodied, dark attire ripped and gashed, a burning lightsaber wound evident in his abdomen.

The other, a woman with a set of three scars on her forehead, in dark armour that focused upon her shoulders, a black leather physique matched with a glowing cloak.



“Lord Caedus?”

“Yes?”

“Did I just feel Jaina die?”

A pause.

Pain, filling the Force, both emotional and physical.

“Yes.”

“Does that mean… it’s over? Skywalker, he fled, we destroyed the Jedi training grounds, and I hear the Hapan Queen is dead -“

“Kneel before me, my apprentice.”

Trembling, she did.

“Lord Riina… rise, and go forth into our new Sith Empire.”

---

That was four years ago.

Darth Caedus, formerly Jacen Solo, the eldest surviving son of Han and Leia, became Emperor, retreating behind a mask following his tremendous wounds in the battle where he slew his sister.

The surviving twelve Moffs, and the remainder of the Galactic Senate, they endorsed his rise to power.

The old Confederate worlds - Corellia, Fondor, Commenor, Bothawui, Nal Hutta - they have all been crushed, enslaved, occupied. They each maintain secret lines of communication, but their forces were shattered years ago.

The former Jedi Coalition worlds - Kashyyyk, the Hapan worlds - they have been split between those who would support Caedus and those who would not, left to fight amongst themselves for the pleasure of the Sith. But even then, the Loyalists are a weakened force, bereft of a Queen, and the Nobles are in ascendancy, backed by the Empire.

The rest - the Mandalorians, the Jedi, Daala's Maw Irregulars - have been decimated and are on the run, looped together colloquially as the Resistance.

Luke Skywalker has not been heard from for years. There is a rumour he found the First Jedi Temple, and that there is a map, but for where and whence, who could say. Darth Riina pursues these tales doggedly, leading the vanguard of the Galactic Empire Guard.

It is a dark time.

Because, after all, Twilight can mean Dawn...





... and Dusk.

---
The Rules

1. Submit a sheet to the GM for approval before you post it here. Please also post it in the Resource Thread.
2. Darth Caedus is the only character that is off-limits to players.
3. The Timeline is based on Empire Day, the day that Darth Caedus became Emperor Caedus following the Battle of Shedu Maad. We are now in 4 AED, or, Four Years After Empire Day.
4. Combo posts with another player must be approved by the GM before, with them copied in
5. Using the Force will result in fatigue; if you are not realistic in your use of it, the GM will have to impose consequences.
6. Play nice, be civil, etc etc.
7. Have fun! (The most important rule)

Character Sheet

Name:
Photo: (If available)
Age:
Homeworld:
Personal equipment:
Personal ship:
Faction: Sith Empire, Confederate, Loyalist Hapan, Noble Hapan, Resistance (Mandalorian, Jedi or Maw Irregular).
The Force: Yes/No - if yes, what level - Padawan, Knight, Master, Senior Master, Grandmaster
Bio: (If Film/Legends/Canon character; you may reference 41 ABY for Legends characters as when Caedus won, and 30 ABY for Canon characters for ages. We are four years beyond that.)



The Burning of Kashyyyk, the first of many war crimes perpetuated by Darth Caedus

 

GM Approved - thank you Sir!


Name: Sybelle



Age: 81
Homeworld: Sposia
Personal equipment: a small blaster, a concealed vibroblade, and various tools for her archaeological work.
Faction: None
The Force: Yes. She can hold her own with the Force if necessary.
Bio: Her parents, Sev’rance Tann and Vandalor, were Dark Acolytes when Dooku named himself the leader of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. They died shortly after Dooku’s speech.

Sybelle survived on the run using skills her parents had taught her growing up.
During her late teens she drifted around buying and selling artifacts.

She met Aryan Graul during the Clone Wars, and they fell in love. They were parted by war and other circumstances beyond their control. Aryan left Sybelle with a precious gift, a daughter. They had no idea that Sybelle was expecting a baby when the young lovers parted.

Sybelle was able to track Aryan down late in her pregnancy, unfortunately it was Aryan’s new wife, Lyz, who opened the door to Sybelle. Now crushed, she left and didn’t go back. Years later, when Airabella was a young woman, she wanted to meet her father. Against Sybelle’s wishes, she went to the Graul residence and encountered Lyz.

A short time later Airabella died, without ever meeting her father. Her father never knew about her.

Airabella’s death was devastating, Sybelle went back to dealing in rare artifacts and kept to her solitary life.

 

GM Approved!


Name: Aryan Graul
Photo:




Age: 81
Homeworld: Nubia
Personal equipment: Datapad, a handwritten journal, and a hand-crafted walking cane from the artisans on Nubia that his daughter gifted to him. She also provided many other items to decorate his room on Chandrila, including several plush animals and a collection of holo-images
Personal ship: N/A
Faction: None
The Force: Yes, though he has never received proper training; his abilities are raw and unrefined
Bio: For many, particularly in more recent times, Aryan Graul remains an enigma. Besides a few general notes sprinkled along a timeline that spans decades, very little is known about his history. His refusal to talk about certain aspects of his past only amplifies this perception. Perhaps he even prefers it that way.

The first public record begins with his military career in the Republic Navy. Aryan served as a pilot during the Clone Wars, commanding one of the elite, non-clone squadrons assigned to the Mid Rim. His fortitude and determination led to many successful missions, which ultimately convinced him to go career as a commissioned officer. However, his dreams came to a crashing end when a scuffle above Kashyyyk resulted in a serious injury. His wounds were extensive enough that he lost his left leg, forcing him to medically retire from the military.

While he was in the Navy, Aryan met his first love, a young woman named Sybelle. It wasn’t long before the two grew close, resulting in a whirlwind relationship that would surpass anything either of them had ever imagined. But where the war had brought them together, it would also serve as the catalyst that would tear them apart. Circumstances beyond their control, arising from class and social politics, forced them to separate. However, they did not depart without making a personal vow to find one another once the galaxy allowed them to do so.

Unfortunately, Aryan received a report that the war had claimed Sybelle before their reunion could come to pass.

Amid his grief, another woman entered the scene—Lyzia Eross. She was the daughter of a wealthy entrepreneur who worked closely with his father and had been a part of Aryan’s life since he was a child. Although they had known each other from afar, he was unaware that his father had promised to betroth them once they reached the legal age of marriage.

Still reeling from Sybelle’s death, Aryan initially rejected the idea and held firm on his decision for several months, but it was impossible to remain adamant in the face of such an alluring woman. The two eventually married in 11 BBY, with their only son, Arek, being born two years later. Their daughter Jalynn came along three years after that. It was Lyz who became Aryan’s lifeline and moral support during the intervening months following his injury.

The next available record highlights Graul’s achievements in politics a few years later, a career shift that blossomed from the ashes of his military service. After a short stint as a Councilman at the local level, the people elected him to serve on the Galactic Senate as the Senator from Nubia during the height of the Galactic Empire. His tenure lasted 9 years, and during that time, his charismatic personality helped him to become an influential force across the vast political stage.

Many assumed that he would eventually ascend to greatness as the leader of the Empire…

But then Emperor Palpatine disbanded the Senate in 0 ABY.


Senator Graul during a public debate in 1 BBY

It was at this point in the timeline that Aryan seemingly vanished from the galactic map. Some say he fled the Core to seek refuge in the Outer Rim after the Empire labeled him as a fugitive. Others insist that he returned home to Nubia to take over his parents’ mining and shipping company, working in isolation and contributing to the war effort in secret. Or perhaps he simply became a recluse. Whatever the case, there is no clear narrative outlining his fate. Only 44 years of rumors and heresy.

Until recently.

A medical report surfaced that highlighted some of Graul’s struggles:

Following the tragic death of his son, Arek, in 15 ABY, Graul’s mental health began to decline. He tried to carry on with his duties for as long as possible, but eventually, it became too much for him to bear. There is speculation that his deteriorating condition resulted from a traumatic event involving a group of dangerous Sith cultists known as the Disciples of Ragnos. However, it’s hard to separate fact from fiction.

With his fragile mental state, Aryan often appears confused and detached from reality; he frequently doesn’t know who or where he is. He also has a tendency to ramble on about things that don’t exist – such as his ability to use the Force. It’s not unusual for him to conjure up fantastical tales that appear ludicrous to someone with a more rational mind. His caregivers typically take pity on him and brush off his erratic behavior as the unfortunate consequences of dementia.

Aryan now resides in the Cottage Nursing Home on Chandrila, away from his family and his homeworld. He has become another victim of the institutionalized system.

 

STAR WARS

TWILIGHT OF THE DARK FORCE​

EPISODE VII

MAELSTROM

A LONG TIME AGO, IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY...

Luke Skywalker has vanished. In his absence, the sinister SITH EMPIRE has risen from the ashes of the Galactic Alliance and will not rest until Skywalker, the last Jedi, has been destroyed

General Leia Organa leads a brave RESISTANCE. She is desperate to find her brother Luke and gain his help in restoring peace and justice to the galaxy.

Leia has sent her an operative, on loan from former Imperial Admiral Daala on a secret mission to JAKKU, where an old ally has discovered a clue to Luke's whereabouts....
​

 

JAKKU



Decades ago, this desert world had seen the end of the Galactic Empire.

Not the end of the Galactic Civil War itself, no; the Imperial Admiralty didn't surrender, nor did the Moffs.

But it was the end of what most considered the death of the Old Empire.

The Galactic Concordance was signed off the backs of the Battle of Jakku, barely a year after the final death of the Reborn Emperor, and the destruction of Byss, his dark throneworld in the Deep Core.

It was at the edge of the barely habitable parts of this world, as the Sith Empire raged, that Lor San Tekka sat.



It was a strange mission, passed to Natasi Daala by way of Jagged Fel by way of Leia Organa.

Rigi Ulic Qel-Droma was here, in Taunal, a little village in the middle of nowhere, at the armpit-end of the Inner Rim, hovering at the very edge of Known Space.



But a mission was a mission, right?

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto

 

CHANDRILA



Hanna City had suffered.

Of course it had.

The former homeworld of Mon Mothma, the former capital of the New Republic, one of the birthplaces of the Rebel Alliance...

The Sith Empire could hardly ignore it.

But whereas Darth Caedus ruled in malevolent benevolence - only doing as he absolutely had to, and not shying from the ugly nature of ruling the galaxy for peace and order and justice...

... he knew his history. He had met Mon, many times, when his mother was Chancellor. He knew that Chandrila was where Wedge Antilles had retired to after the First Galactic Civil War, and that the man was a threat. He knew that the Jedi had been purged but were not done.

He.

Knew.

So his Star Destroyers kept an eye.

Since the Battle of Shedu Maad, what had made the Anakin Solo unique - the black-hull, the gravity well generator, the long range turbolasers - had become standard for the Sith Empire. Every Star Destroyer in the former Galactic Alliance and Imperial Remnant had been retrofitted, upgraded, and transformed. The lumpy Mon Calamari designs had been phased out; the Turbulent-class Star Destroyer had been discontinued; the designs of the Confederation, such as the Bothan Assault Cruiser, had been banned.

Two such Caedus-class Star Destroyers - as the original design became known - hung above Chandrila. TIE Starhunters, the primary fighter of the Remnant, and now the Sith Empire, patrolled incoming traffic. Based upon the old Interceptor design, they added shields and hyperdrive to the traditional design.

That, of course, mattered to one person especially today; Sybelle sneaking into the system...

The two warships had their gravity generators depowered, but she was well within the range of the long-range turbolasers.

She would have to play it careful, if she wished to follow up the lead that she had found.

The whereabouts of someone, who it did not matter to, that there were black-hulled Star Destroyers in orbit.

Aryan Graul.

On the surface, a Mon Calamari regarded her patient, in a nursing home, as he was bid awake by the cocktail of medicines she was now allowing to flood his system.



With a blink of her bulbous eyes, Cilghal allowed the man to find himself again, and slid into his room with the tray.

“All the others barge in without asking,” he had called hoarsely from his chair, his chin inclining slightly to glance at the door. “So, I appreciate you showing the common courtesy to knock first.” He had switched off the datapad and inched himself toward the edge of his seat. “The door's open.”

Cilghal allowed her vision to encompass the room, realizing that Aryan had fallen asleep in the chair watching the holovid on the wall again. "You must try and sleep in your bed, Aryan," she softly chided as she swept in. Aryan's dementia being what it was, he had very little control of such matters, but it was important to not make concessions for all things. Some things, yes, Aryan could not help, but mental checklists of normalcy would help ease his condition and stagger his mental decay.

She had been greatly reluctant to intervene with Aryan, though it had been impossible for her to not use the Force where she could, in small ways, to slow the dementia where possible. It would take an intense effort to remove it, and Cilghal found that she didn't have the ability to do that any longer.

Not since the Jaina had died.

Flaring her nostrils in grief, Cilghal concentrated. "You have been doing relatively well otherwise, and I made some notes about what you were speaking about yesterday," she said as she set down the tray, producing a datapad and sending the files to Aryan's for review later on. "It's quite disjointed, but I know you like to keep track of these things, when you can."

"So," she said, placing her hands in-front of her atop each other. "How are you feeling today?"

A trickle of the Force niggled at the former Jedi Master, but she focused on her patient.

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent (combo), @HanSolo29 (combo)

 

The Depths

The spirit that protected the Royal Family from treachery and betrayal.



The Grimtaash.

The Grimtaash was an unsightly creature of Alderaanian myth, a planet itself that would become mythical, what with its destruction over four decades ago. The old Empire had exploded the planet with a superweapon, the Death Star, and it's subsequent destruction by Luke Skywalker had made him a hero, and announced the ascent of the Chosen One.

Over forty years ago.

In that time, Skywalker brought down that Empire, defended the galaxy from an extra-galactic invasion,, and stood guard over a burgeoning Galactic Alliance with his New Jedi Order. He discovered a sister, Leia, and a best friend, Han. They married, and he acquired three nephews and a niece. Jaina and Jacen, and then Anakin, and then Ben. He himself married, Mara Jade, and had his own son, Ben, named by the Force.

Luke Skywalker lost it all.



Anakin died first, during the Yuuzhan Vong War.



Mara next, at the hands of Jacen, who fell, and became Darth Caedus.



Caedus killed Jaina.



The New Jedi Order was destroyed.

The Galactic Alliance, it merged with the Imperial Remnant, became a Sith Empire.

Leia retreated to the shadows.

Han, well, Han left. He had no desire to lose another child. Chewbacca had returned from his own exile of sorts, and so they returned to smuggling.

Luke went into self-imposed exile.

Abandoned his son.

Abandoned his nephew, who had been abandoned long before Darth Caedus destroyed the Skywalker-Solo family.

Neglected; overshadowed - to young to fight in the Yuuzhan Vong War, too old to stay in the Maw, too untrained to become a full Knight, even though his uncle gave him more attention after the Galactic Alliance arose between the New Republic, the Remnant, the Hapans and the other lesser galactic powers.

Ben had lost two brothers, one to death, one to the dark; lost a sister; lost his aunt...

This mantra, this memory, it drummed at Ben Solo as he slept aboard the Grimtaash.

Protected from traitors... when he was, it seemed, the only one truly loyal to the family.

His family.

"My boy, I can show you the way now."

It was the voice.

Ben had nearly made his way to Snoke.

With a galaxy at war, collapsing into anarchy, and then conflict, it had taken him time to reach the man that had buoyed his dreams and thoughts.

Who had soothed his anxieties, and stoked his belief in himself.

A set of coordinates appeared in Ben's minds eye... and he woke.

The Grimtaash hung in the abyss between stars, not far from the Maw Cluster.



He would not remember how he got here.

Those coordinates would direct him to elsewhere, but it wasn't actually that which woke him.

No, it was some kind of... longing within him.

It was almost lodged in his heart, beckoning him to be... somewhere.

Safe.

Family.

There was something reaching for him in a way not too dissimilar to how Snoke did.

Unconditional love poured across this new connection...

TAG: @CosmoHender (combo)

 

A combo post with our GM @Sinrebirth. Thank you for this!




IC: Sybelle
over Chandrila

He was alive.

In the past, she’d only heard rumors, but from here could she felt him. There was a sense of urgency because Sybelle felt something was very wrong, Aryan Graul had been tortured. She had to get to him, maybe she could help him find the strength, and will, to recover.

Swallowing back tears, Sybelle instructioned her droid pilot, “you will let me handle things if we are hailed. Otherwise make for the spaceport.”

The big warships orbiting Chandrila were intimidating, which was exactly what they were supposed to be. Sybelle knew they could easily board her ship and interrogate her, but why? The ship was old, and she was traveling as a woman who was arriving to pick up her husband. There was no need to tell the truth, and she could be denied access if she wasn’t a family member.

“Fly casual, don’t do anything to draw attention to us,” Sybelle ordered her droid.

The Star Destroyers were indeed large, and the droid did as instructed, interpreting the typically vague guidance to mean don't do anything anomalous. But aloud, he intoned, with barely the smallest part of sarcasm. "Yes, my lady."

It guesstimated that they were out of the range of standard turbolasers but the Caedus-class had those long-range weapons, which were considerably more dangerous. But there was ample traffic. Eventually, though, the comms crackled. "This is Chandrilan Control. State your name and business here."

Sybelle side eyed the droid to be sure it kept quiet. Truthfully, she only used the droid because she loathed flying. It was an affliction that plagued all the females in her line, Sybelle could manage it in a bind, but she avoided it if possible.

She keyed her ship's comm and spoke clearly, “I am Lyzia Graul,” Sybelle took a breath before she told another lie, “My husband is Aryan Graul, he is currently a patient at the Cottage Care Home.”

Her eyes closed as she willed the person at the other end to believe her, and allow her safe passage to Chandrila.

Madam Graul," Control said, carefully. "You're in a different ship, ma'am, but I'm glad to see you're here."

The Chandrilan - evidenced by his accent - let her pass, the Caedus-class Star Destroyers allowing her to pass by unmolested. The care home was by the edge of Hanna City, a relatively rural outer area, not that Chandrila was terribly built-up.

The droid checked the comms were switched off. "This is a trap."

His words did not match the Force, which was, as ever, murky and dark and difficult to pierce.

She rolled her eyes at the droid’s comments, that was precisely why she couldn’t trust him to use the comms.

“Forward any incoming communication directly to me,” Sybelle ordered and rushed back to see what she might be able to wear that would pass as Lyz Graul from a distance.

The minute she was alone, she allowed her tears to fall. “He is here,” Sybelle whispered, wiping her eyes. “I’m coming for you, Aryan.” She’d finally found him.

Covering her hair was easy, and she could wear heels, Sybelle recalled Lyz being taller and very intimidating. She’d have to be careful, the staff could be familiar with Aryan’s wife. It had been an impulsive decision to say she was Lyz, she’d just said it without thinking, so it had to work.

The droid shrugged, human-style. "Sure, all comms. That'll help." His tone was dry, the equivalent of your funeral.

They were past the blockade, and into atmosphere.

Hanna City beckoned.

What had she been thinking of, having a droid with such a negative personality? Maybe it was the years of her own sadness. There have been times when his sass and sarcasm had kept her laughing.

Sybelle leaned back in the seat and slowly let out the breath she’d been holding. She not only had the confirmation that Aryan is indeed here, but now they had made it past the hulking giants guarding Chandrila.

My darling Aryan, we’ve missed so much of our lives, but I’ve never given up hope that we would be together again.

The city loomed closer, and Sybelle was anxious to get to the Cottage Care Home. She gazed over the landscape until they were settled into the landing berth they’d been assigned.

“You’ll wait here,” Sybelle ordered the droid, “and stay out of trouble.”

She wrapped her cloak and secured it before she had one last thought, “there is a possibility we will need to leave quickly. Be prepared for that.” The droid probably had a sarcastic come back, but she was already down the corridor and double checking the medical droids she’d brought along. Sybelle hoped and prayed Aryan didn’t need them, but she was prepared for any possibility.

Satisfied that all was in order, Sybelle practically skipped down the ramp to enter the city.

Tag: @Sinrebirth @HanSolo29.

 

OOC: A very fun combo with our illustrious GM – thank you so much, sir!

IC: Aryan Graul and Cilghal
The Cottage Care Home, Chandrila

The room swam into focus in a kaleidoscope of color, revealing the sterile space he recognized as his home for the past—kriff!

How long has it been?

He always had trouble accounting for the days. There was a tendency for things inside his mind to blur into a mass of incoherence. The passage of time was the worst culprit. Sometimes he wondered if he had always been here. It certainly felt that way on some occasions.

But no.

He knew this wasn’t his home. For one, it lacked the opulence he had grown accustomed to throughout his life. It was a vivid memory, one of the few that he could recall and grasp onto with relative ease.

His loved ones were also missing.

Jalynn.

He remembered Jalynn. She often came to visit him; she brought him gifts and prepared meals.

She was…

Aryan Graul issued an audible groan as he struggled to retain the details, unaware of the cocktail of medicines currently coursing through his veins. The doctors had prescribed them to mitigate the deteriorating effects of his condition and raise his awareness. Unfortunately, it also caused some adverse side effects in the process. The more lucid he became, the more he became vulnerable to his emotions, such as irritation, frustration, and anger.

He exhibited that now, uttering a string of curses as he rubbed his hands repeatedly over his face in an effort to recall Jalynn’s connection to him.

It was coming…

It was right there at the edge of his consciousness; he could see it…

Daughter?

Yes, that was it!

She was his daughter!

Aryan exhaled in relief and slumped back in the chair, content to drift back into blissful slumber…

… but that’s when he noticed he had a visitor. It was the fish-woman who often infringed on his privacy. He suspected she did it on purpose to instigate him; that’s all they ever did in this place… in this prison. Maybe it was just as well that he could never remember her name. She was simply the Fish-Woman… or The Nurse.

Godsdammit.

Had he invited her in here?!

He couldn’t remember.

All he knew was that he did not like her hovering over him, and as usual, she seemed oblivious to that. She quickly crossed the distance from the door, softly chiding him for not sleeping in his bed, before passing over a datapad that contained notes from a previous session they held together.

With a scowl, Aryan snatched the device from her outstretched hand and dropped it into his lap, observing her closely. It was clear that he was in a foul mood. That typically aroused his suspicions and made him quite intolerable.



"So," the Nurse said as she settled down beside him and folded her hands. "How are you feeling today?"

"You woke me up," he grumbled in a gruff voice, the lines on his face deepening with a frown. "The least you could do is bring me food… or maybe talk to the maintenance crews in this place to adjust the reception for the holovid. I was trying to watch the Senate session last night, and it kept disconnecting."

Aryan sighed and angled his chin toward the holo with an accusatory glare. "How am I supposed to form my report for the subcommittee if I can’t tune in remotely?"

Cilghal flared her nostrils, in her species' unique expression that had far too many subtleties for a human to understand; was it frustration? Amusement? Either way, the Mon Calamari stilled the mood and stepped forward, datapad in hand.

"Food will follow when you answer my questions, Aryan," her voice was firm. "You do appreciate that, no? And what with how often you watch the Senate hearings, a break will not hurt you." As if to emphasise the point, she allowed the man's fantasies to be actualised for a moment, as she continued. "Palpatine has been Emperor for some time, after all. He isn't going anywhere and so the subcommittee will wait."

To think, she had to maintain the fantasy that Darth Sidious ruled the galaxy to prevent her patient from being distressed. If he knew Palpatine was dead, perhaps he'd break. Cilghal knew his mind was stuck just before the Senate was dissolved, but how much before, she could not say. Had he moved beyond the Reconquest of the Rim? The death of Gizor Dellso? The Battle of Nar Shaddaa? Lothal or Scarif?

So she purposely avoided direct references and thus elevated the Senate to some kind of immortal and timeless entity, which had been true for a time, but Cilghal didn't expect to see an active one return anytime soon. Twice disbanded in forty years, first by the Emperor and now by Caedus?

It was too much to think about.

A hoarse laugh escaped his throat as he listened to the woman’s commentary, a hint of a smirk turning up one corner of his mouth. "When has the Emperor ever been known to exhibit patience?"

Aryan canted his head, almost challenging her to provide an answer to his rhetorical question. It was a baseless conversation, one that further solidified his position about The Nurse’s credibility. He didn’t personally know her, and he didn’t trust her. She behaved like a corporate stooge. It wouldn't surprise him if one of those corrupt lobbyists had hired her to run interference. Why else would she put so much effort into trying to distract him from his duties?

Leaning forward, he again brandished his hand to condemn her. "You’re managing this like a game… or an interrogation." He held her gaze for a long moment, staring into her bulbous eyes in an attempt to gauge her reaction. "You want me to divulge information in exchange for sustenance. Is that how you and your Loyalist friends intend to manipulate me? Do you think I wouldn’t notice?"

He allowed a sneer to overtake his features as he rose from the chair with relative ease, seemingly unaware of any physical ailments that may impede his progress. Judging by his demeanor, he was clearly agitated. "I don’t know what you hope to achieve by holding me here, but I will not break under your scrutiny. This operation of yours, this… prison disguised as a retreat? You can inform your superiors that it will never succeed, and it is clearly illegal under the law of the Empire. I demand that you release me before I alert the proper authorities."

"A prison?" Cilghal didn't intend to engage with his fantasies fully, merely use them to manipulate him into a more accepting state. The man was proud, and his work on the old Imperial Subcommittees, trying to better the Empire, well, they had been pointless, but they had mattered to Aryan.

But it was best that she lean into that arrogance. "Do you not recall that it was the Emperor himself who put you in my care?" She soothed, as if that was such an obvious fact that he dare not dispute it - he would not have an absolute memory, and nor would he have the humility to admit so. Cilghal was gambling that Aryan would play along and accept her ministrations if he could not refute that the Emperor had assigned him to her.

"Hmm..." Aryan murmured under his breath, posing the question more as a statement. He found that it was a rather intriguing development, though it only compounded his frustration due to his inability to recall the details. It was as if a mental barrier blocked his access to certain memories. He couldn’t explain why, but if he focused hard enough—

Furrowing his brow in thought, Aryan struggled to retrieve the desired information. The effort caused him to lose his balance, and he began to waver precariously on his feet. He had no spatial awareness, and he might have fallen if not for a sudden epiphany.

"You’re referring to the recent terrorist attack on the Senate," he proclaimed with conviction, instinctively placing his hand on the edge of the chair to regain his composure. "The investigative report concluded that the Partisans were responsible, but I and several of my colleagues suspect it was actually an anti-humanist group, such as the Aa’kuan out of the Corellian System."

Aryan's expression sobered as recognition dawned. "I was injured in that attack," he said solemnly, slowly settling back into his chair. "The Emperor sent me here to recover… so that I could continue to carry out my duties… and you…" He curled up his nose briefly when he realized that she was not a Loyalist traitor. "You were assigned to act as both a care assistant and mediator to the Senate."

"Yes," Cilghal confirmed, because why wouldn’t she when the patient reinforces her position. "You’re secluded for your protection, from whatever Separatist terrorists remain. You are, after all, a war hero, too."

That may have been pushing it a bit far, but Aryan had an ego. Once his confusion abated, it would need sating. If she could hint that he was injured in the attack but recovering, it would solidify precisely what she could do for him.

Heal, ideally.

A satisfied smile touched his lips as he straightened his posture, seeming to puff out his chest with pride. "That’s why I’m indispensable," Aryan boasted with a mischievous glint in his eye. It didn’t take much for her to tap into the aforementioned ego, and as a result, bolster his confidence.

"The Emperor recognizes that, and so does the Senate." He canted his head and studied her from afar, silently daring her to dispute his claims. It was an honor for her to serve him in this capacity, and he wanted to ensure that she understood that. "As one of the primary proponents of the Military Powers Act, I played an integral role in bringing this latest round of legislation to fruition. You could say that it has secured my future as an essential part of this administration."

He paused for a moment to extend his legs and stretch tired muscles, clearly testing out their utility after the injuries he had sustained in the attack. They felt stiff and perhaps a little weak, but he attributed that to the healing process. He trusted that it would all work itself out in the coming days. At least it wasn’t debilitating; he had no pain, and he surmised that he could probably resume his regular level of activity.

"In essence, I don’t believe that I will need to stay in your care for much longer," Aryan stated matter-of-factly. "I feel quite well, and I’m not experiencing any pain… unless you account for hunger, of course."

Cilghal nodded. Of course. Radicals always take it that step much further than need be. Now he was going to discharge himself. Nodding automatically, the Mon Calamari woman stepped forward. "The Emperor will have my hide if you do not return to the Senate in perfect health, so I am sure you will indulge me in making sure you are well, yes? If we fail him, Lord Vader will inevitably come a calling, after all."

She suspected Aryan would dote on Palpatine but loath Vader, but the discussion had never come up.

But Cilghal had often seen a strong dissonance between those who supported the Empire as the successor to the corrupt and bloated Old Republic, and the Sith, who were considered zealots and madmen... with Vader conveniently blamed for all the Empire's wrongs and Palpatine fondly remembered as the Chancellor who ended the Clone Wars.

She truly doubted Aryan would be any different, as she busied herself with his charts.

Aryan narrowed his eyes and studied her for a long moment, an impish smirk flitting over his lips. He found her assertion absurd, and he made no effort to hide his amusement from her. In this instance, he reveled in her inferiority. "So, you admit to having an irrational fear of the occult? Of those who utilize the Force to spread terror across the galaxy? Sith? Jedi?" He offered a small shrug. "Is there a difference?"

He paused to allow his words to sink in, settling back with an incredulous scoff. "It’s a scare tactic, and you’ve obviously fallen victim to the conspiracy. Lord Vader is nothing more than a bully, and he does not supersede the Emperor’s will. He can easily be persuaded and controlled… one only needs to understand the system.

"If I were to present my case to His Majesty," Aryan continued with a casual wave of his hand, "and demonstrate that I am well enough to return to my post, I am confident that my request would be granted. After all, I am the only one who can determine how I truly feel."

Cilghal nodded. "Of course."

She chose not to respond to the occult accusations. Aryan was likely Force sensitive, though it was not in the traditional sense - it was more akin to Forceful individuals who could not use the field consciously - like Han Solo, Jagged Fel, Gilad Pellaeon, Talon Karrde, and others. But she didn’t see the need to tell him that.

There was a gentle knock and Cilghal turned; it was Tekli, her Chadra-Fan assistant and former apprentice. The diminutive woman twitched her nose in her species’ tell. "I have a Lyz Graul en route."

Cilghal could hardly believe her tympanic membranes. She would have scolded Tekli for breaking the news without first telling her, but a pulse in the Force encouraged Cilghal to hold the urge. The Mon Calamari swung to look to Aryan. "Sir? Your wife is coming."

"My wife," Aryan grumbled under his breath, his expression hardening as he glanced between the two women. It certainly wasn’t an ideal situation; he would rather deal with the Nurse than his overbearing wife. Lyz had a tendency to provoke him, often resorting to deceptive tactics in an effort to achieve the desired outcome. This usually involved trying to persuade him to admit to some kind of wrongdoing, most notably his infidelity.

Aryan hesitated and allowed himself to grin as he recalled Mon Mothma and the time they had recently shared together.

He knew that Lyz had suspected an affair for a while, but he had maintained the charade and attributed her behavior to paranoia. But perhaps his scheme had worked a little too well. Apparently, she had convinced herself of that truth, which probably explained why she had now arrived to interfere with his rehabilitation.

"It’s a pleasant surprise to see her make the journey," Aryan crooned in a gravelly baritone. “I would like to believe she has come to liberate me from this fine facility, but I doubt I’m that lucky. She will probably come up with some kind of excuse to keep me in confinement for another couple of months."

A derisive chuckle escaped his throat before he lazily waved his hand. "Why don’t you let her in, and we’ll see what she wants."

TAG: @Sinrebirth; @Lady_Belligerent

 

JAKKU

IC: Lor San Tekka
The desert

The older man peered through binoculars into the sands of Jakku. The man spied Qel-Droma and waved him to the village, clicking his comlink in the scatter-code that had been agreed with the Princess. He turned back into his tent, regarded one more time, eminently nervous, the small map he had.



Many centuries ago the San Tekka’s had been Pathfinders, building a fortune in competition with the Graf’s and other families. The Nihil ruined that prominence, and the Trade Federation took primacy in the Outer Rim instead, thus beginning the slow decline of the Old Republic. But Lor still had access to a great many other secrets, including the map to the rumoured places of power that the Force held in the Unknowns.

Not worlds as reclusive as Exegol, nor the forbidden paths to Otherspace, but still lost to the sands of time - much like the old Empire had been here, on Jakku. The Graveyard of Palpatine’s regime… and yet the Sith were not done, and the Baneite legacy had recovered…

They needed Skywalker. He turned his kettle on, preparing a broth. Qel-Droma was an old name - one laden with its own legacy, both Jedi and Sith…

But Lor reasoned that without Light they needed to embrace Grey…

He found himself remembering the Journal of the Whills…

First comes the day​

Then comes the night.​

After the darkness
Shines through the light.
The difference, they say,
Is only made right
By the resolving of gray
Through refined Jedi sight.​

However, Lor could not detect what was to come; the Force was charged, indeed it was…

TAG: @Mitth_Fisto (combo)
—-
Niima Outpost



Perhaps unsurprisingly, the wanderings of Barriss took her to the edges of the hunt for Skywalker. She knew as much as anyone; that after Jaina had died Skywalker had abandoned the galaxy, gone into exile as a failure. That he was said to have holed up in the founding world of the Jedi Order - after Tython, but before Ossus…

Ossus was burned now, the sight of a Jedi massacre at the hands of the Galactic Alliance Guard at the height of the last war now - at the point the Jedi turned on the Alliance at the Battle of Kuat. Barriss would have been there, too…

But she was here, regarded by a rather unscrupulous Crolut who had spied her landing nearby. “How much for your ship?”



TAG: @CosmoHender (combo)

 

THE UNKNOWNS



IC: Rae Sloane
The Edge

The Finalizer was the flagship of the First Order. It hung at the very edge, taking advantage that Jakku was at the very penumbra of the Unknown Regions, that which the Sith Empire had not pierced.

Aboard it stood Rae Sloane, glaring at Brendol Hux. She had no doubt that he or Phasma would have gladly run her through, but as long as she had the majority in the Supreme Council - herself, Brendol and Maximilian Veers - she reasoned that even with the tacit support of the Attendants and the Emperor’s Sentinel droids, who ever favoured a more aggressive stance to restore their Empire - she would be able to stand up to Brendol.

With the Navy and Army behind her, the General of the Stormtrooper Corps would simply have to follow. But Rae knew that the absence of Snoke, the Force-wielding head of the Attendants, had merely muted the factionalism that Brendol and the misshapen ‘Supreme Leader’ encouraged… The woman shook her head, reflecting upon all the efforts they’d made to date. The reconstruction of the Imperial Navy, the reversals after the Black Fleet Crisis, the triumph over the Empire of the Hand…

Rae knew that the end was in sight.

That when they overthrew the monstrous rule of Darth Caedus… the galaxy would welcome the Empire back.

But to reach that ending, they could hardly have the Sith marching into her territory to hunt down Skywalker. They needed the map.

Rae turned from Brendol, Phasma and Cardinal - another stalwart ally of her reforms and the commander of the second twenty-Stormtrooper transport - and regarded the fifth person in the room, who would have overall command of Phasma and Cardinal. Sam Hhat. Rae looked vexed.

“Have you seen the long range scans?”

Of course Sam had; in the shadow of the moon of Jakku. One Caedus-class Star Destroyer… perhaps the Anakin Solo itself!

This was supposed to be a snatch and grab - a risky one at that, but nonetheless…





TAG: @CosmoHender (combo)

 

CHANDRILA

IC: Cilghal
Nursing Home

Sybelle would have made it across Hanna City without issue.

There was no rhyme or reason to interfere with her without due cause, especially as the Chiss had declared an avowed neutrality in events; even the most zealous of Guard officers knew not to absently interfere with a member of the species. The various and egregious security scans told them that she was a Chiss, the prolific systems installed across every major Core World in an information web that made prior Intelligence networks look like child’s play.

So the nursing home was there, and Tekli, having checked the cams, stepped to the entrance and regarded the woman. “Can I help?” She spoke calmly, but firmly.



Meanwhile, Cilghal regarded those selfsame video feeds and showed it to Aryan, careful to ensure that the microphones on either end were muted. “This does not appear to be your wife.”

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent, @HanSolo29 (combo)

 

VARNAK

IC: Ren
Tavern

He reminisced, occasionally.

It had been a long and winding path to here and now.

The Knights of Ren had drawn upon the legacy wrought by the Nihil, those few raiders that had seized control of the shadow. Not Sith, no, they had no interest in being anything but they already were, though over time the Nihil worshipped the shadow, and then, much like the Mandalorians, a blade.

The Ren.

His hands lightly caressed the hilt.

After all, Ren had nothing to fear of the other patrons. They gave him a wide margin of space, well aware of the legacy of the Knights of Ren. Seven in number presently, though in the past they had numbered more, or less. Before and after Qi’ra’s abortive attempts to destroy the Sith, for one. Had he known she was merely the Force mute apprentice of Maul… maybe things would have gone differently.

But here he was, hunting more shadows in a galaxy that had fallen to it. The Sith had returned, and it was that pyramid of power again, all held by Caedus and his apprentice… Ren had no interest in getting between that again… though at least Snoke gave them good tips…

Speaking of tips…

Vicrul, one of the longest serving Knights, stepped towards him.



Ren smirked and gestured to the door; to Voe. “You’ve been looking for us for long enough. May as well make yourself known.”

TAG: @CosmoHender (combo)

 

BETWEEN

IC: The Shadow
Darkness

Sleep did not bring peace, nor quiet.

No, Ben Solo would be haunted by dreams.

Shadows cast by the plants here, formerly carnivorous, formerly sentient. They chased him, screaming and screaming, the grave of dead curdling within them and giving rise to a mind, even humanoids perforated with green vines as if puppets, archaic lightsaber designs in their hands -

Chasing him as if marionettes -

But still, that screaming, as if the Drengir hunted by echolocation; a sick form generated by the howling of the pained and dead -

Tales we’re wrought of a heart to this monstrosity, taken away and sealed… but before that, fire and blood - in bladework, a Sith Lord who drove the murderous horde known as the Drengir to defeat once before -





Statues, that drove back the dark -


Golden light -

And a single man, sitting there, his back to Ben, his back scarred as if webbed by a pain of its own.

“Sorry to intrude upon your dreams…” He turned to peer at Ben. “Please, call me Salaban.”



TAG: @CosmoHender (combo)

 

OOC: The following is a combo with Lady B and Sinrebirth! It's always a joy to write with you guys – this was truly a fun one!

IC: Sybelle, Aryan Graul, Cilghal, and Tekli
Cottage Care Home - Hanna City

It had been all too easy.

Sybelle knew not to be lulled into a false sense of security, she had closely scrutinized the guards that had allowed her to pass through unmolested. It had been oddly simple.

Her countenance was relaxed and focused. She had one objective, and nothing else mattered. It was getting harder not to rush as she got closer to the care home.

They were so close now… she could feel him. Sybelle kept her hands clasped, it was important to appear calm, but she certainly didn’t feel it.

All that stood between them was a very serious-looking Chadra-Fan.

"Can I help?" She asked Sybelle.

"Hello," Sybelle smiled but kept the hood of her cloak up to conceal as much as possible. "I’m here to see Aryan Graul, please." She slowly glanced around the lobby and was saddened by what she saw. The idea that her vibrant, and proud Aryan was wasting away in this place disgusted her.

Once she’d allowed Lyz Graul to bully her, and then send her away. Never again… Sybelle would not only stand up for Aryan, she would also protect his rights, and perhaps most of all, his dignity.

"This does not appear to be your wife," the Fish-Woman proclaimed as she adjusted the monitor from their vantage point and allowed Aryan to view the video feed.

With an impatient sigh, he leaned forward to get a better look, one hand pressed against his chin in silent contemplation. He wasn’t entirely thrilled to see Lyz at this juncture, especially when he knew that she had only come to exacerbate the situation. She lived to provoke him, and he was not in the mood to contend with her insolence.

His demeanor reflected those sentiments when he suddenly unleashed a derisive scoff. "Maybe someone called me in a favor, and she is actually a prostitute masquerading as my wife," he said darkly, his mocking tone dissolving into a cruel laugh. "I would consider that an improvement."

And yet, the longer he studied the feed, the more he realized the Nurse was right. While the pixelated image muted the details—and it certainly didn’t help that a cloak concealed most of her features—he could still tell from her gait and posture that this woman was not Lyz. She had a delicate stride, and she was more petite, both in stature and build. For a moment, he even started to believe his own fantasy about someone hiring him an escort.

Until he saw a flash of blue when the woman moved. The cloak parted just enough to afford him a fleeting glance at her neck. Her flesh wasn’t a vibrant blue; it was more subdued, almost pale. It could’ve easily been a trick of the eyes, similar to the way the darkening shadows of twilight had a tendency to obscure someone’s true complexion.

But he was still curious.

"She’s… blue," Aryan murmured under his breath, his brow furrowing in thought. "I don’t—"

There was a flicker of a memory; a woman with dark, wavy hair and a hint of crimson in her eyes… but then it was gone.

With an incoherent grumble, he trailed off into silence.

Cilghal panicked in a strictly professional manner as Aryan seemed to fold in on himself, not just mentally, with the silence, but physically, as his body literally crumpled, pitching his chin into his chest. She reached him quickly enough to place a hand on his chest, and he didn't quite lose consciousness, but clearly, the woman had done something to her painstakingly constructed mental support structure.

Tekli misinterpreted her master's hast, feeling their connection in the Force, and suddenly took a step forward, looking up at the woman, hard. "My patient has been visited by precisely three people in the decades that he has been here. I am disinclined to accept a new visitor without counselling either of his wife or his children, none of which listed a... Chiss, or Pantoran as a next of kin."

"Explain yourself, before I have you ejected." The diminutive nonhuman was not the most threatening, but right now it was potentially comical.

Sybelle was disgusted that her Aryan had been imprisoned here for such a long period of time. It just confirmed to her that Lyz had been only interested in the status of being Aryan’s wife afforded her, and she did that while Aryan wasted away in seclusion.

"I am here to personally deliver a message to Aryan Graul," Sybelle answered the small creature. "It is private and of an urgent personal nature, I intend on delivering it immediately."

This was something that Sybelle would not budge on, even if it meant violence. "I don’t believe you understand the urgency of my message," she started to go around the Chadra-Fan, "you’ve delayed me longer than is acceptable. I’m sure you can consult your lists while I speak to Aryan," Sybelle snapped.

If being a bully didn’t get her past, Sybelle was prepared to use a strong sedative to knock the aide out… if it came down to it.

Inside the private quarters, Aryan labored in his stupor, unable to hold his head upright without assistance as he teetered on the edge of consciousness. The room swirled before his vision in a dizzying kaleidoscope, inducing the painful lurch that signaled that he was about to empty the contents of his stomach.

A violent cough erupted from his throat, but he only retched several times without finding any relief. He still felt miserable, his discomfort compounded by the tightness in his chest. It made it difficult to breathe, and he squirmed in an attempt to relieve the pressure. The motion seemed to help, and when he moved again, he discovered that his problem was actually an external one. Someone had a hand pressed against his torso.

Without another thought, Aryan suddenly came alive and panicked. He lashed out to liberate himself from his captor, his hands latching onto the offending appendage to remove it from his personal space. "L—Let me… go!"

It wasn’t until his vision cleared and the bulbous head of a Mon Calamari came into focus that he recognized where he was and who was trying to restrict him. It was the Nurse, whose name he could never recall. He soon realized that she wasn’t purposely hindering his movements; she was trying to comfort and support him.

Clarity washed over him, and he unleashed an audible sigh as his body slumped. His hands relaxed their grip on the Nurse's arm and eventually dropped back to his sides. He wasn’t sure what had triggered his anxiety, but—

Wait.

Maybe he could piece it together…

… if his mind would cooperate long enough.

As he tried to remember, his brow creased in deep concentration.

Yes, there was something else there.

A presence.

A woman.

Aryan grew quiet once more, his eyes suddenly gleaming with unshed tears.

"Sybelle," he finally whispered, his voice cutting through the silence.

Cilghal hesitated. Sybelle. She had no idea who that woman was. As far as she could find, Aryan had been with his childhood sweetheart his entire life, but she knew all the human signs, and she could sense them, as hormonal shifts and emotions upon his face. She was a Mon Calamari, yes, but her best friends had at various points been Mara Jade, Leia Organa, and even Luke Skywalker. All gone.

Tekli hesitated as she felt surprise from Cilghal. But she regarded Sybelle firmly. "I’m going to have to insist you wait."

Sybelle tilted her chin up and glared down at Tekli. It was empowering to actually look down on another adult since Sybelle was quite petite in stature, but her heels gave her an added boost to loom over Tekli.

"I’ve waited as long as I intend to," Sybelle said solemnly. Her right hand felt a cold metal cylinder slide into her grasp, it had slipped into place before Sybelle had fully decided it would be necessary. No one would keep her from Aryan, this was it. Next, she was reaching out to her soulmate, simply by instinct. It was as if this moment in time had been pre-choreographed.

"Aryan, I’m here for you, my love."

The deep sapphire blade suddenly lit up the reception area of the care home. "I’ll see him now."

Sybelle shoved Tekli hard towards the wall behind her and raised her blade to guard against any interference as she rushed to try to get past the Chandra-Fan and find Aryan’s room.

"Aryan!"

The words penetrated the cacophony of voices and intrusive thoughts that comprised his mental decay, providing clarity and a solid foundation on which Aryan could claw his way back to the surface. It was a struggle that played out visibly on his face as he tried to muster enough strength to reach Sybelle through his fatigue.

It was her voice; her presence. He could feel it through their bond after all of these years. It had reawakened, almost as if…

She had never died…

The thought gave Aryan pause, and he choked in a breath, resulting in an audible groan that precipitated his tears. He couldn’t accept that he had missed the obvious signs; that he had been unable to locate her. Had he inadvertently severed their connection to pursue his own endeavors? Or was he that thick and ignorant of his surroundings?

Neither reflected positively on him as a person, and he instinctively turned inward in a bid to disprove this woman’s claims. Perhaps this was a test—or the Nurse thought it would be humorous to play a cruel joke…

But, no.

This was not a trick.

He recognized the vitality of her spirit. It was Sybelle.

His Sybelle.

Aryan began to openly sob as he tried to reach out through the Force to answer her call. Unfortunately, the chaos inside his mind prevented him from articulating his words across the distance that separated them, so he merely pushed outward to touch her presence.

He then staggered to his feet and turned to regard the Nurse, verbally conveying his thoughts to her. "She’s alive," he uttered gruffly, placing both hands on a nearby chair to maintain his balance. "I… I need to—"

His expression suddenly turned grim as he sensed Sybelle’s distress beyond the doorway.

"You’re keeping her from me," he growled.

Tekli resisted the shove, ground in the Force but giving enough space for Sybelle to squeeze by if she wished, a lightsaber hilt in Tekli's hand from a sleeve in an instant. Her blade was not yet active, but she thumbed the emitter, ready to launch into Ataru -

Cilghal raised her flipper-hands. "Enough, Aryan, I am doing nothing of the sort."

The illusion of control was shattered, and she stepped aside, revealing the open door. "Go to her, and we shall see."

Cilghal sent a bleat in the Force, and Tekli, keeping her guard up, sidestepped and made her hilt disappear.

"Aryan has asked for you."

"Yes, of course, I’m alive, and I’m here."

"Why didn’t you ask him about me sooner?" She demanded, sighing heavily. Sybelle replaced her own weapon, and without another word, she stalked past Tekli.

She was just rushing through the entrance when she heard Aryan accusing someone of keeping her from him, causing Sybelle to wonder why Aryan was being treated like a prisoner.

"No one will keep me from you, Aryan, not anymore," Sybelle announced and barged into the room. She had steeled her reactions and was prepared for him to be very different from the last time she saw him, and she wasn’t wrong. What had she done to him?



Sybelle smiled warmly and went directly to Aryan, her own emotions were a maelstrom that she struggled to keep under control. There was a rush of relief, followed by intense anger. She wanted to track down those who had put him into this condition, and the one who locked him away here and then left him to wither away. At that moment Sybelle vowed to spit on that being's grave.

"We wish to be alone," Sybelle ordered the Mon Calamari that stood nearby. She slipped into Aryan’s arms and held him close. It was a moment she’d dreamed of every night for most of her life, and finally, she was touching him. The warmth radiating from his body filled the emptiness she’d been forced to live with for so long. It was like they’d never been apart.

She tilted her head up to look at him, her hands framing his face. "I’ve missed you," she whispered hoarsely.

Her eyes moved over him, as if checking for any visible malady that had kept him locked up here. She noted his own emotions were very unsettled, and she didn’t want to rush him. There would be time for her to demand his diagnosis from these people once she was ready.

She caressed his face, then her hands slid down his arms to take his hands into hers. Sybelle took one hand at a time and raised them to her lips, she gently kissed each palm. Her presence in the Force was just as gently caressing him, and calming any anxiety.

It was a tremendous relief that he wasn’t totally lost into oblivion, his mind had been battered, but there was a spark of hope. Aryan wasn’t lost, she’d found him in time before he’d wasted away.

Tekli shot Cilghal a guarded expression of warning, but the Mon Calamari a minuscule shake of her head. Aloud she said, "we'll leave you to reunite, but I'd like the opportunity to speak to you alone at some point, madam." Her voice was stern, very much the old matron, and closed the door to give them some privacy.

Aryan stood awkwardly after the Nurse departed, his eyes fixed on the spot she had recently vacated, however, he could not bring himself to speak or shift from his current position. A part of him felt relieved that she had finally granted him some privacy, but another part of him remained anxious and perhaps even a bit fearful of the unfolding situation.

The newcomer had rushed into the room and embraced him as soon as the door opened. After feeling Sybelle’s presence through the Force, Aryan thought he had wanted this. Their bond, which had previously gone dormant, reawakened with a lively flourish. It ignited the flame that made his heart ache for his former lover.

But this was not her.

This… imposter wore another woman’s face.

She couldn’t be—

No.

It was absurd.

To reinforce those sentiments, his eyes finally found her face, and with a sharp intake of breath, he recoiled from her touch as if shocked by an electrical current. He then shuffled back several paces and merely stared at her for a long moment, his jaw working wordlessly. This woman appeared much older than his Sybelle. She had visible lines around her eyes and streaks of silver that muted the brilliant luster of her hair.

And yet, he couldn’t ignore their bond; that resonance in the Force that defined her essence. It was impossible to fake that.

Before Aryan could comprehend what was happening, he stepped forward once more and tentatively pressed both hands to her face. He proceeded to explore the area around her forehead and slowly worked his way down her features, his fingers probing her skin and tracing along the contours that marked the passage of time. A series of creases formed on his brow with the effort, though he did not abandon his search—not until he reached her eyes.

It was said that the eyes served as a window into the soul, reflecting a being’s innermost emotions, fears, and thoughts. It encompassed a being’s eternal spirit and revealed who they truly were.

As Aryan peered into her infinite depths, he eventually found that familiar spark. The eyes gazing back at him did not belong to a stranger; they were her eyes.

Finally, with acceptance, Aryan lowered his hands and allowed a genuine smile to spread over his features. "Sybelle," he said faintly, his voice dissolving into a choked sob as the emotion welled up in his throat again. "I—I miss you… too… Sybelle."

He gingerly reached out and took her hand in his own. "You’re… here—alive."

Sybelle politely acknowledged the staff member's request to meet with her, there would definitely be things to discuss and she had planned on a meeting with Aryan’s care team anyway. For now, she was relieved they had left, they needed to be alone for their reunion.

She had to blink back tears as his expressions shifted through so many different phases. It was concerning that Aryan seemed to have believed her to have been dead, Sybelle wasn’t surprised, it was more of Lyz’s meddling.

"Yes, I’m alive," she repeated, "and I’m not leaving you again." Sybelle stepped closer and laid her hands on his chest, she needed to feel Aryan’s heartbeat. The bond they’d shared long ago was buried beneath the pain and heartbreak their separation had caused, it was certainly damaged, but the structure was intact… she would nurture it, and in time, they would heal.

She looked up and searched Aryan’s expression. It was important not to rush him, but she couldn’t wait any longer. Sybelle gently leaned in and touched her lips to his, her kiss was feather-light, and only lasted a second. She trembled from being so close to the man she’d longed for, that she had waited for.

Sybelle slipped off the "old man" hat he was wearing, tossed it in a nearby chair, and ran her fingers through Aryan’s hair. It was unlike him not to be impeccably groomed, that was something she would see about restoring immediately.

The kiss lingered.

Even after Sybelle had moved on and began to massage his scalp, Aryan continued to fixate on that detail. It needled at the back of his mind and elicited a deep stirring in his chest, the sensation so intense that it caused his arms to break out in goose flesh. Amid the growing tension, he could also feel his heart beating madly against his ribcage. He ultimately reached the point where he was unable to contain his wayward emotions any longer.

With an audible groan, he abruptly pulled away from Sybelle’s touch and sought her eyes, his brow furrowed with confusion and uncertainty. "No… noooo, Sybelle… I—I, no… I—can’t…" he exclaimed in a slurred manner, each syllable running into the next as if he was under the influence of a powerful depressant.

"My… wife won’t approve… I promised—after Mon and then on Naboo… with the Princess—no more. I wouldn’t hurt her like that again. I’d stay faithful. No more affairs; no more trouble. For Jalynn… Arek—"

He trailed off as his breath caught in his throat, his mind meandering to another distant thought. "I… was alone—this whole time. I dunno where you were… where you came from. If… if you’re real."

Sybelle swallowed a sob and blinked back the tears that threatened to fall. What had that bitch done to her Aryan?

Taking a deep breath, she calmly replied, "Aryan, I am real… Lyz lied to you," she didn’t want to shock him, but he needed to know the truth. "She lied about me, I didn’t die," she reached over to take Aryan’s hand, if he would let her. "I came to see you," Sybelle was trying to go slowly, she had so much to tell him, but worried that he was too fragile to hear everything.

"I went to your home, and Lyz promised to tell you that I’d been there and needed to see you." She had to stop the words from pouring out, maybe she’d never be able to tell him how cruel Lyz was. He might not be able to accept it.

She desperately needed to touch him, their bond was still there, and it could be strong again. Sybelle stared into Aryan’s eyes, thinking she’d never give up on them. They had been waiting so long.

"Aryan," her voice was firm as she pressed her will deep… her eyes were locked on Aryan’s but she wasn’t seeing the color of his iris or his pupils staring back. Sybelle was pushing deeper into Aryan’s mind. She had to get past the memories of torture, of the unimaginable pain he’d endured at the hands of demons. "Lyz never comes, does she?" Sybelle didn’t give him time to answer. She was inside and didn’t want to stop now, "she locked you away here, rather than caring for you and being at your side."

The echoes of Aryan’s suffering were heartbreaking. Sybelle had been expecting resistance from her intrusion, but she wouldn’t give up, her words now filling his mind. "Do you hear me, my love? I only stopped trying to see you when I was threatened. She said I would ruin you, that I would destroy your career and family."

She grabbed the sides of his face and moved in closely, "Aryan, no one can stop us now, I am here to take you with me." Sybelle soothed and filled him with the love and passion she’d been waiting to share with him for years. Her feelings were completely honest and selfless. "I am telling you the absolute truth…"

Sybelle hesitated, she’d come there with a message. The burden was on her to deliver it, and it had a double edge. "Aryan, this is now our time. She hid you from me, and she lied to you… but now she’s gone."

Her tears flowed freely now, she’d waited a lifetime for this man and nothing was going to keep them apart now.

"Lyz is dead, and I am not. Aryan, I am here to save you from the hell that she locked you in."

Silence met Sybelle’s revelation.

As her hands cradled his face, Aryan stared ahead into the void, his eyes glassy and fatigued from his ordeal. It was nearly impossible to read his expression; he wasn’t so much peering at her but beyond her. Her internal probing had drawn him inward, almost like a beacon of light leading him to a specific point in his own subconscious.

In this inner realm, there were no safeguards to protect against his thoughts or emotions. He was powerless to raise any defenses in his current state, rendering his mind an open book for her to peruse. That’s where he now resided; where he saw the truth of her words.

It was also where everything shattered.

Lies upon lies.

Bedlam.

Death.

His lips trembled and a pitiful moan rose from his throat as a physical manifestation of that singular word. It was a culmination of all of his grief, confusion, anger, and pain over the sudden loss of his wife. He wasn’t sure how to process the wide range of emotions that now raged inside of him, building into a furious tempest that he was unable to control.

Ultimately, he snapped and unleashed an anguished scream that echoed around the sterile room.

Should he mourn Lyz’s death?

Or had she betrayed him?

He couldn’t decide…

… but he wasn’t without guidance.

There was one small flare of hope.

"S–Sybelle," he croaked weakly before his legs buckled beneath him, and he pitched forward.

She had anticipated his collapse. Although she was small in stature, Sybelle was strong.

Her arms went around his waist as she eased his descent. They slowly settled to the floor and she’d guided Aryan’s torso across her lap so she could cradle him in her arms.

Sybelle kissed his forehead and whispered, "I’m here, Aryan, you’ll never be alone like this again." She smoothed his hair from his face and gently rocked all while clutching him. "I’m sorry I was so blunt, but you deserve the truth… always."

Her tears now fell, she wasn’t sure if she was crying from the situation or from simply relief at finding her lover. His grief for Lyz cut her deeply, but she was his wife, and Sybelle had accepted that long ago. Lyz owned a part of Aryan that Sybelle never would, but now she was the one there and Lyz was dead. She prayed they could possibly have what time they had left in this life together, if Aryan was willing. It hadn’t occurred to Sybelle that he may not want her in his life.

Taking a deep breath, she looked down at Aryan, "would you like to come away from here with me?"

He remained still for several moments, his body nestled against the warmth of her embrace. Even as he openly cried and exhibited his distress, he felt calm and secure in her company. Her presence served as a safety net to protect him from his mental incapacities. He was safe as long as he was with her, especially in his moment of need.

He latched onto that thought and committed it to memory, using it to build up enough confidence to finally lift his chin and stare into Sybelle’s eyes.

"I—I want to go home," Aryan stated with conviction, his lower lip still trembling with emotion. The 'home' he referred to wasn’t the one he had previously shared with Lyz on Nubia, but rather someplace they could both retire to together and call their own. Despite not knowing where that was, he was confident they would figure it out.

"They claimed, uh… that they could fix what was wrong with me," he gestured to his head and winced to indicate his struggle, "but they… lied. The Fish-Woman lies. She limits… my interactions and forces me to do things… against my will. I haven’t improved. It’s like… a prison, not a hospital. And if Lyz sent me here—"

His voice trailed off again into a choked sob.

Sybelle held Aryan a little tighter, clutching him close enough to imagine she could absorb some of the trauma he’d endured. She wanted desperately to ease his emotional pain, but that would take time. Time was the least she could give him.

Aryan Graul had been her world, and even though she was proud of all he had accomplished through the years, it had been hard to watch the wretched woman at his side. Lyz had been there for the honor of being Mrs. Graul, and the power it had afforded her. Now she’s gone.

This would be their time. She had felt Aryan’s meaning when he’d spoken, he wanted a home with Sybelle.

"I’m here," she said, her face buried in his hair, "no one can keep me away from you now, and there will be no more lies." She placed her hand on his chin to tilt his head up to look into his eyes. "I love you just as much today as when we parted," she softly kissed his forehead. "We will get you away from here, and I will care for you while we seek someone who is capable of healing your injuries." Sybelle leaned closely and kissed his lips, "I will never give up until you’re whole again."

TAG: @Lady_Belligerent; @Sinrebirth