#galacticmuses

How long had it been? Kylo Ren hadn’t been counting the days -- the weeks. It hadn’t been a month yet. Surely. Surely. Still, he had found ways to keep himself busy, but busy work only lasted for so long. He’d interrogated people with vital information. He’d learned the basics of fixing his own ship -- much to Hux’s surprise. He’d even gotten a compliment for his achievements from Snoke himself, but it had meant nothing to him. A complete 180 from what it had used to mean to him. 

There was this emptiness, this longing, that permeated into every single thing Kylo did. A terrifying blend of both a sadness so deep than it could drown someone and an anger so petrifyingly hot that it would burn anyone in it’s way to cinders. So many villages on planets destroyed by him and him alone. If only for his sanity. His heart that was tearing itself apart now.

Now, he had to face the facts. Seyda was gone. It wasn’t new news but one he hadn’t faced since her departure. He hadn’t slept. Hadn’t eaten. His body felt like it had been through a thousand battles -- shot by hundreds of blaster shots. The moment he walked into his quarters was a moment that felt like no other. The first thing he noticed was the shattered vase on the floor, wilted flowers among it and the water long since gone.

He remembers when she set it on the counter -- so hopeful for their marriage. The symbolism was worst than a saber to the face. Worst than any physical pain he’d ever endured. He got down on his knees and picked each piece up with gloved hands. Had they not been gloved, the shards likely would have cut into his skin. He let out a painful sob despite himself -- one he felt hard in his chest. Once he was done clearing the wreckage, he tossed it into the garbage bin. How could someone lose so much in so little time?

Perhaps then he could make it right somehow. He couldn’t imagine what he could possibly do, but his bed was too empty. His quarters to dead. Every single detail she had added to their quarters while she was here was gone and all that was left was him. He stormed out of his quarters, not wanting to look at it anymore. He had to tell her. She had to know.

Hux tried to stop him on the way to his ship but Kylo ignored him. He flew off without so much as a word and down to Seyda’s planet. He could see the construction that had begun as he entered the atmosphere. Where there had been green, luscious forests was now the beginnings of a base. It felt foreign, like it didn’t really belong there, but Kylo tried not to think too much about it as he made his descent down to the planet.

He was greeted by some of the royals. Kylo kept it formal and asked for the location of his wife. She was in the gardens, they said. He sensed their anxiety and wasn’t sure why. When he arrived, he made his way through the many kinds of flora in the garden. He turned a corner and there she was. Her back was turned to him. Her laughter filling his ears. She was happy. Happy without him and then in his view he saw another man. Different than him. Stark blond hair and the most blazing blue eyes. Opposite. Even his clothes were a bright shade of blue. The feeling that crept inside of him was one he couldn’t -- no wouldn’t identify.  

He turns away and out of the garden before he can be seen. When someone asks if he found her he tells them no. A liar, but Kylo doesn’t rightly care. He wants to go back to not knowing her. Wanting her. Missing her. If that were a possibility. He walks up the walkway to his ship, prepared to leave when he hears the call of his name. He freezes in place and she dares to say it again. It’s only then that he turned -- faces the woman he thought he could see himself loving, protecting, cherishing.

“Uhm ... hello?” Finn had heard there was a woman who made clothes here. The current ones he wore were not exactly suitable for life on the desert planet and so his first step was finding a better way to acclimate to the weather. It’d been dangerous for him to come into this territory, but the other locals weren’t exactly the most welcoming.

“Don’t think because of where you came from you can just come into my space and start ordering my men around.” Kha’il is not afraid to speak his mind to the woman, despite her feared reputation in The First Order. His own is large enough to at least be on an equal playing ground. After all, there had been times when his superiors had thought him more machine or monster than man.

@galacticmuses​ liked for a starter with a Star Wars muse of my choice

Omera had managed to slip her guard for a moment, and stumbled into a shop to hide. When she had left her village with Din all those rotations ago, she had not expected to become the intended of the new Manda’lor. Which meant being followed around constantly.

“I’m sorry,” Omera said without looking up at the probably startled shopkeeper. She had burst into the shop unceremoniously.

Mando had come to Tatooine for information on a bounty he was working on. That in turn had led him somehow to this quaint little clothing shop. It looked empty and so Mando made sure to take slow cautious steps. He eventually found himself in the back of the small tent and there he laid eyes on something he hadn’t expected to see.

“Mandalorian Armor.” He said to himself. The sound of someone moving behind him made him turn quickly, pointing his blaster at the small woman. She did not look like a mandalorian, nor did she look like someone who could kill and steal the armor off of one, but he wasn’t going to take any chances.

“Acknowleged.” The bounty hunter angled her ship into the hangar and landed softly, switching off its engines. Z-MO2, her droid, beeped off-key. “Don’t worry, Z, we’ll getcha patched up soon as I drag this sack in and get paid.” When she walked off her ship into the hangar, a few troopers stood waiting to help her mover her “cargo” to the officer who’d placed the bounty. On the way to drop off the package, they passed the station’s droid shop and mechanic, and she made a mental note to stop by afterward. One dreary speech about justice and a few thousand credits in her pocket later, she made it back to the shop with her droid. 

“Knock knock, anyone home?” she asked, standing in the doorway. There was a blonde droid tech at a workbench that caught her eye. Beyond that, the place seemed empty of people. “My droid needs some love.” Kehxa held the sad-looking maintenance droid in her arms and leaned against the doorframe.

The Mandalorian sighed as he finally sat on the ground, resting after a full day of work and pretending he didn’t hear the way his joints creaked. The Razor Crest was a hardy little thing, but that didn’t mean repairs weren’t always a special kind of challenge. If not for the fact Anibi was there to help him, he probably would’ve ended up annoyed beyond all reason at how long it took him to do this on his own (and, subsequently, wasted quite a bit of time sulking).

They’d be finishing the last of the work tomorrow once a special delivery of parts arrived, so for now, the Mandalorian afforded himself a break-- a break that the Child seemed happy to take advantage of, immediately bounding up to him with a pack of jerky he couldn’t seem to open on his own. He opened the packet and offered the kid a piece, which he happily took before plopping his behind onto his lap.

And the Mandalorian pat him on the head, murmuring a quiet ‘thank you’ for how behaved he’d been today.

As Anibi sat by him, the Mandalorian didn’t question it, turning instead to face her with a small nod of the head. She deserved his thanks too, as she always did every time she brought the Razor Crest back from the brink of destruction, but just as he opened his mouth to say it, he felt a sudden weight over his hand.

Glancing downwards, he remained silent. He wasn’t sure what to say-- frankly, moments like these were few and fleeting in his life-- but Anibi was a friend, and she was a friend he appreciated quite a bit.