Cinders on a Ledge of Dust

[Toska]

"Priscilla." Her name waxed cherry along the dull ringing in her ears. Soft air on her cheeks, lips trembling and cracking for moisture. Light split open her eyelashes, dancing hexagons blended by harsh lines. She inhaled, and the world rushed to greet her. The sound of coughing, taste of wet tears, touch of dusty smoke. A cascade blending together and refracting off the haze shadowing her eyes.

Wide open, the city was in flames. She shut them. Flashes of imagery: Shuttle taking off from its platform, Sabetha with her motherly smile. Lacquered nails and teeth embellished, white, white, white. Haze over CoroNet, schooner cutting the waves bathed bloody by a setting sun. Kiss of panic; flicker. Sforzando piano.

Cilla, Cilla, that ringing cooed. Breathing past a runny nose, scratching soot from eyes she refused to open, she shuddered at a touch upon her shoulder. Gentle words and strange shadows. Her nose and lips contorted, lashes parted, and she cried out.

Strings wretched the hand away. Tongue clicked against teeth. Footsteps pattered away. She peeked out from a curtain of hair; she was alone. A breath escaped, shaking her to the knees. Her arms raced to cradle away the cinders and gooseflesh between the tatters of her dress.

A dainty little thing. She rose to her feet and vanished into the darkness.

Night had fallen over CoroNet, stealing from it the joy of a neon sea. Stacks of smoke billowed out instead, bastions of the despair that struck a city inflated by her own wantonness.

For Priscilla, it could only be a dream. Sabetha--come wake your child up.

 

[Sleven]

The gentle whistle of fleeting air across a twilit sky whispered in the boy’s ear. In the heavens the stars burned red with the fires below. The boy lie squirming, panting with frustration he twisted himself from beneath innocuous piles of fallen rubble.

Breathing heavy, he looked out from one of the starport’s landing pads, a disparate landscape enveloping him. Smoke masked the horizon as CoroNet city burned. The city’s white noise was gone, replaced by a haunting silence.

Distant shouts and screams broke the boy’s wonder. Nothing was quite as it seemed. Grandpa had not come, but something else felt different about the world now. A fundamental piece was missing.

I am alone.

Stretching his body, the thought did little to discourage him.

Turning from the landing pad’s vista he meandered about the ruined starport. The damage was different in each place he explored. Parts of the ceiling sagged with the weight of debris, cracks lined the walls where the damage was thickest, and chunks of sheetrock and ferrocrete lie strewn across the starport’s floors. The place was abandoned save for the lifeless forms peppered amongst the settling dust.

What are they doing?

He tried to wake them up, but they would not move. Giving up the boy sat amongst them, playing with their things. Alone. Happy, but alone.

Grandpa will come soon. And then I can show him my new world.

There was too much to discover here for the boy to grow bored, but a distant movement caught his attention. It was... a girl. A little older and taller, with shoulder-length blonde hair and bright blue tear-stained eyes that cut through the shadows. He ran towards her.

Eager smile across his face, the boy outstretched a hand, “My name’s Caed, what’s yours?”

 

[Gamov]

His voice cracked in agony, another shard of pain ripping through his thoughts. He locked his gaze onto hers, panic congealing in his mind. How? How could she be doing this? She was just a girl, no older than his own daughter. No! He hadn't just let that memory slip to the surface... had he? He struggled to bury it, but her fingers grasped at it and pried it out again. Not her. Anyone but her. A warm tear streaked his cheek, not his little girl. God, what had he done? "I wonder what she would think of daddy now." A devilish grin faded from the corner of her lips with his raspy sobs. "Don't worry, she's safe. Honestly, what kind of monster do you take me for?" His glassy eyes drifted onto her again, "all I want are names. Who are you working for?" "I..." "Yes?" "I... can't say." She arched an eyebrow. "You can't, or won't" With a modicum of concentration, Mila plied at the recesses of his mind again, eliciting a tortured wail from his lips. "I CAN'T!" His voice rose sharply, defiance bleeding through the pain. "We were hired by a third party!" "Who?" "Gaaaaaargh!" His thoughts felt like they were splitting in two, being violently ripped apart as a predator would rend the flesh of its prey. Hot embers fired through his nerves, igniting every pain receptor simultaneously. His head was on fire, a throbbing ache pounding against the inside of his skull. He just wanted the pain to stop. Oh God make it stop. Please. PLEASE! He would give anything to make it all stop. "Who. Hired. You?" Malice twisted her tone, irritation glinting in her cool, hazel eyes. A rivulet of crimson seeped from his nose and he slumped forward. Mila rubbed her temples with a frustrated sigh. "Janus." "Ma'am?" "Get him out of here and get him some rest. Then... see what he knows." "Understood" The Stormtrooper nodded and motioned a pair of his squadmates over, hefting the spent husk of a man out of the chair and dragging him from the room on their shoulders. "Are you..." "Fine, Janus. Just do as you are told." She shifted her gaze to him, hiding her own weariness behind a practiced facade. He gave her a curt nod. "Yes, ma'am." Only after he had left did Mila let her guard down, settling back into her seat with an exhausted sigh. Sustaining a mental connection to another for this long was taxing, but not as much as it had been in the past. She was making strides, but there was much she needed to learn yet. Her thoughts drifted to Abel, wondering if he was faring any better on his end of this whole mess. No doubt he had left a sizable body count in his wake by now. With a dull ache beginning to press on her temples, Mila forced herself to her feet. Fresh air would do her some good. A rush of cool air greeted her as she stepped out onto the streets, refreshing her senses some. Her breath crystallized in the air as her eyes roamed the sky for a second, attention flitting over the thousands of distant white pin pricks. If not for the circumstances that had compelled her here, Mila may have allowed herself to enjoy the splendor of the evening a bit more. Alas, work came before pleasure. Turning back to the streets, her attention gravitated towards the voices in the air. A pair of figures lingered in the distance, exchanging pleasantries. If the rebel elements were unwilling to share their secrets, perhaps a couple of citizens could fill in the blanks. Casually approaching the pair, Mila introduced cordially herself. "Evening. What brings you two out here tonight?" The chances that either of them would know anything were slim at best, but if nothing else she would appreciate a decidedly more "normal" interaction for once.

 

[Toska]

A young boy was standing before her, looking up, smiling brightly. A woman approached, slipping out a greeting from placid lips. Strange shadows. Priscilla's eyes darted between the two. Young and brilliant, smooth under the soot. Her shoulders stiffened. The woman's face was aglow in cackling firelight--flickers rushed over it, winnowing the edges away. Blank; Priscilla's lip trembled.

She grabbed the boy's hand and pleated together a smile. In a whisper: "Priscilla" and drew him beside her. Peeking up, she met the woman's gaze and hesitated, lips zipping shut. She recoiled slightly, stopping against the boy's weight. A deep breath.

"Who are you?" Crow's feet scraped under her wary little eyes.

 

[Gamov]

The little girl shied away, clinging to the boy. Mila could see the uncertainty in her soot flecked complexion, her tone meek as she pushed a whisper out - her name: Priscilla. The Acolyte's eyes brightened some with a thin smile, purely an act to benefit Priscilla and allay any lingering fears. It was a pretty name, delicate and innocent in a way. It suited her. "Priscilla..." She repeated it almost absently, as if committing it to mind. "I'm Mila. It's nice to meet you." Her eyes scanned from her to the boy for an instant. His appearance was similarly rough and unkempt, dust and grit settled on his hair and clothes. By the way Priscilla seemed to gravitate towards him, she pegged him as being of some relation to her - a younger brother perhaps. He certainly didn't seem to recoil from her touch, rather accepting it. But whether or not his gesture was born of fear was yet unclear. "Is this your brother?" She asked, her gaze dipping back to Priscilla. "Where are your parents?" Mila's eyes shifted between the pair, an answer from either would be acceptable. Some small part of her suspected the worst though; this attack had been a mess, raising her suspicions that she may well be starting at the smudged faces of a pair of orphans.

 

[Sleven]

Caed’s elation at the prospect of a newfound friend was interrupted by the approach of a woman clad in dark lace and leather. Cued with her arrival, Caed felt Priscilla’s custodial grip move to shelter him. It was enmeshed with a palpable fear. Wrapping his arms tight around hers, Caed drew close to her side.

Looking on at the pale woman, Caed pouted definitely, feeling an unconscious repulsion towards her.

“You are a bad person,” he accused.

Tugging at Priscilla’s arm, Caed presented her with an excuse to leave.

 

[Gamov]

Her brow knit into a soft frown, such strong words from such a young boy. He was either incredibly bold or impossibly dense, Mila wasn't quite sure which but given how closely he allowed himself to be drawn into Priscilla's protective grasp it was more likely his words were born of uncertainty tainted by shock and fear. One could only imagine the impact these events must have had on his mind - as a child his already tenuous grasp of the world around him must have been all but shattered by now. Tilting her head slightly to mirror her curiosity, Mila plucked an errant thread from the cuff of her coat, twiddling it in her fingers for a second before flicking it aside. "Now what would make you say something like that?" She brushed a rebellious lock of hair from her cheek, tucking it behind her ear. "Is it how I'm dressed?" The question was at least partially genuine. The number of strange looks she often attracted thanks to her attire was something she had grown used to, but from a child's point of view she could see how her aesthetics might mirror the image from childhood tales of ghosts and monsters. Her eyes roamed the boy's features for a moment, "why don't you tell me your name?"

 

[Defiance]

Twinges of hunger shot up through Alfie's stomach as he glanced throughout the landing pad, pocketing a handful of glowing data chips into his ragged coat. He took a moment to gaze into the midsummer night sky, eyes glazed over at the infinite stars that stared back from above.

He drew a long breath into his lungs, focusing on the breeze rushing past his dirtied face, and stood from his crouch against the ship. Again, his gray eyes returned to the disembarking passengers, searching. Above the noise of dying engines, however, he heard something new.

Alife perked up. Did his ears deceive him? He looked around wildly, a glimmer of excitement fringing through him. The voices of other children. He spun around, and his eyes met the source. He saw three others there, two closer to him in age. The other, it seemed, was older. Scarier.

He blinked in disbelief as he slunked behind another nearby ship for a closer look. He observed them then, eyes catching sight of the girl.

His heart began to race, and his mouth hung agape.

But he hardly moved.

 

[Toska]

Priscilla moved to shush the boy as he spat out from behind her, but the hiss froze on her lips. She swallowed, pushing back the little arm that clung to her. Pale fear beat at her brow; constant noise, tremors that shook the ground. Each quake split gooseflesh along her arms, and a chill settled in the base of her spine. Static jumped from fractured intercoms. She looked beyond:

The vista was dimly lit, lights flickering and dying—some shattered, others blackened. Enmeshed by the darkness that fell over CoroNet. Above, the airspace hung stagnant. Few shuttles and speeders roamed while destroyers hovered above the horizon. Sirens blared, notes sharp but fading into the distance. Blasterfire sparked the intervals between.

Her shoulders trembled. Watching the woman's face—a placid mask that coolly ignored it all—stole the last of Priscilla's hesitation.

Fists clenched, a gulp of breath. She turned, clutching the boy's hand, and fled. A syllable carried off her breath: "Run," so low it may have drowned under the clanging of her feet. Back into the depths of the spaceport, beyond the twisted shadows. Away from fingers that twitched idly and eyes that would never close.

For a moment, she shut her eyes to the desecration etched into the chrome around her. It smiled unabashed, a gap-toothed smile that oozed from the lips. Crimson stains that had just begun to dry.

 

[Sleven]

Priscilla bludgeoned Caed as she clutched his hand and ran past him. The weight of her body shattered his false sense of security, her panic swallowing him.

Run.

Left foot, right foot! His legs beat a rhythm into the ground—a primal sensation. It didn’t matter where he was going, only that he went.

Ragged breaths caught the fire of dust in his lungs, hastening his retreat. The world went dark around him as he moved through obstacles unbidden. He looked only to Priscilla’s hand. She was still there.

 

[Gamov]

A pang of fear erased the girl's lingering hesitation, radiating along the fringe of Mila's perceptions. She moved her lips to speak, but they darted into the shadows, leaving her words as little more than a sharp gasp while voices crackled over the comm in her ear. "Insurgents converging on the starport! Any units in the area respond! Repeat..." Sirens blared with the far off din of battle, flickers of red igniting the darkened streets in a deadly light show. The channel fell silent with the hiss of static, her pulse rising sharply as a nervous spark chased along her spine, eliciting an involuntary twitch in her fingers to summon the blade at her side. Flares traced arcs through the night sky, washing the ruined starport in an eerie scarlet hue that brought a surreal sense of life to the carnage. Mila's eyes darted sharply towards the path ahead of her... The children were going to be caught in this mess! On an impulse, she called after them, setting off in their footsteps. The acrid aroma of smoke hung heavy in the air as she passed by mangled heaps of metal and duracrete, some twisted into a macabre display of flesh and bone. The sight turned her stomach as a thought flitted through the recesses of her mind - who were these people? Fathers? Daughters? Sons, wives? She cringed to think of it all and pressed onward. The chaos around them grew closer... any window for escape was dwindling. "Priscilla!" Mila cast her senses out, searching through the Force for any signs of life. "You need to stop and listen to me. Trust me." Would they even listen? Had fear driven them beyond her reach? She hoped not.

 

[Defiance]

Alfie watched the girl, moving his eyes in curiosity. Rumbles of chaos shook him, but he paid them no heed. Instead, he kept his eyes fixed on her, mirroring her every action. He felt them, her emotions. Swaying his head, he crawled closer, drawn to her. Where did he recognize her? His eyes blinked. Blank. Alfie's heart still echoed up his neck, resonating upon the far brims of his hearing.

Worry flashed across his face as he saw her in fear, now in motion. He slid his feet uneasily, scuffing his worn soles against the trembling ground beneath him. He felt the ground in his fingers as he sought to comfort her unease. It wasn't until he heard outspoken cries behind him that Alfie's head swiveled in a sudden realization. They were in danger.

He turned back. He could not leave her.

They ran now, seemingly toward him. But he knew they did not know he was there. He was hidden, behind the great side of a ship. Yet this connection was strong, he felt something surreal. He felt responsible for her. He opened his mouth as if to call out, but only the slightest sound escaped him.

"Hey."

Moments passed as he mustered the words to make impulse reality.

"HEY!" He called out, loud enough for him to hear them. He waved his skinny arms about him to gain their attention.

"This way, I know a way out!"

 

[Toska]

The racing of her heart skittered off the beating of her footsteps, clanging through the hallway with boy in hand. She was short of breath, each gasp wracking her little chest with tremors flushing her pale skin. Rosy cheeks and nose flaring across the spaceport. Tears ran over her eyes, blearing vision into a skein of shadows and eyelashes. She trembled down to knees that cringed with every lurch.

Someone was shouting, crying out. A hand wove ahead. She recoiled, yanking back against Caed's weight, slowing until her feet slipped gently onto the walkway, thrumming with a dull burn that twisted its skeletal digits around her ankles.

She acted on inertia, throwing herself towards the voice, following the hand down another corridor. Onwards, she pressed; she whispered, she fled.

The cackling of blasterfire neared. Voices joined the great cacophony, battering silence from the fray.

It was almost a mutter of thanks.

 

[Sleven]

Shouting chased his retreat and greeted his arrival, dispelling the blindness of instinct. Priscilla stopped, giving his mind ample time to assess his surroundings before his momentum hitched at their adjoined hands and whipped him to the ground. A slapping sound met with his outstretched hand, the sharp thud of his head and torso soon to follow.

Dazed, he lingered, whirring in the unrealities of then and now. Sharp flares of red and blue danced at the corner of his eyes as time slowed to a grinding halt. After what seemed an eternity, muffled sounds played at his ears, working their way in louder and louder until the sounds of heavy footsteps and blasterfire rang crystal amongst the ruins of the street.

Looking ahead, his eyes bore hard into the darkness, searching for any sign of his new friend.

Priscilla?.

She was not there. He had but slipped and she was gone.

 

[Gamov]

Eerie silence answered her words, a pang of worry racing through the recesses of her mind as her senses touched upon... nothing. The Force turned bleak around her, darkening into a frightening abyss at the fringes of the wound left behind in the void where life had once occupied. She swallowed against the anxiety fraying her nerves, expelling what little trepidation she could with a stiff breath as her eyes scanned through the murky dimness. Flickers of red and long off rumblings grew closer as static hissed in her comlink again, voices barely audible over the static - either range or something more sinister was interfering with the transmission. Popping the hissing earbud out to alleviate the annoyance, Mila remained still for a moment, saber clutched firmly in hand while her eyes swept to and fro. "This way, I know a way out!" Her attention shifted abruptly with the voice, honing in on its location, one name skipping along the very fore of her focus - Priscilla. Maybe she'd found a way out somehow? Maybe... her mind blanked, a sudden concussion buffeting her as she left her feet involuntarily. Weightless, mind railing to process her situation, then... a hard thud at her back as flesh met stone. The air rushed from her lungs in a sharp breath as she tumbled to the ground. Ringing pervaded her hearing, hazy whips of smoke obscuring her vision for an instant as a hoarse cough forced its way out. Grit and gravel dug into the palms of her hands as she pawed at the dirt, hauling herself back to shaky feet in a daze. "Pri-Priscilla...?" Muffled voices drifted to her ears, scuffling footsteps moving among the twisted piles of metal and rock. Fleeting shadows scampered across the walls and the report of blaster fire echoed at but an arms length - or so it seemed. Realization crashed through her stupor and Mila groped blindly for her saber, panic taking root as its familiar weight failed to return to the palm of her hand. Voices reached a fevered pitch, rolling together in an approaching wave of chaos that threatened to swallow her. White noise teased at the fringes of her hearing and she realized... her comlink. Somehow, by miracle or luck she could not say, it had stayed with her. A lifeline to the outside world. "Jan-" A sputtering cough racked her voice before she could find it again, "Janus... report!" Her feet shuffled with some degree of urgency, carrying her forward almost without her knowledge. "Janus! Report!" More static, then haunting silence. More blaster shots sounded through the ruined spaceport and her concerns came back around to that one name again... A labored groan from behind clenched teeth helped her find the wherewithal to push forward, past the rubble and through the dying flames away from the cacophony of battle. Mila, battered, dirty and aching soldiered towards the last voice she cared to hear. She had to find them... make sure they made it out alright. If someone had to be worth saving from this madness, it was them. "Priscilla!" The sounds of battle likely drowned her words. She could only hope she made it out ahead of her... or she caught up to her, however unlikely that seemed now.

 

[Defiance]

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