#vaylin

The shuttle jumped to hyperspeed. She slowly closed her eyes to take in the transitioning tunnel. Finding tranquility in hyperspace, as it might be her last. The Barshen’thor glanced behind to see serenity emitting off Vaylin, and not a blink occurred with his transfixed gaze. 

Imagine his surprise when her eyes were brilliant blue instead of fiery golden as she opened them. 

Vaylin smiled at him, quite shy upon realizing that Rio had been staring at her. Still, the Jedi was immobile–and it was beginning to make her nervous. She waved her hand in front of his face to shake him out of his trance. “Hey, you there?”

“Oh! By the Force! I’m sorry!” Rio quickly wiped his face in total embarrassment. “I must have looked like a buffoon, didn’t I?”

“Honestly, yes, you kinda did.” Vaylin teased.

His response was to chuckle shamefully. He turned back to his pilot seat, still in awe over witnessing her brand new, yet the original shade of irises she was born with. Like a teen experiencing his first crush.

But his mind automatically wiped off the sentimentality considering the situation they were heading in. There was another three hours of hyperspeed to go, as he sighed at the cluelessness on how to spend that time away. On the contrary, they both wished those three hours would be longer. They were quiet for the first major minutes, before Rio remembered something.

On our way back to base. Can you please empty the hangar to make it much easier for everyone? Thanks.

He received no reply from his twin but the hyperwave transponder confirmed the message was sent. Even if his request was ignored, he started mentally preparing to defend Vaylin once they landed. 

“Rio…”

She was met with his classic smile. “What do you plan to do for the future?” Vaylin attempted to open small talk.

“To be honest… At this point, it felt like my immediate future’s prone to unpredictability. But if you’re asking about my plan…” Rio shifted his posture to fully face her. “I want to help rebuild the Order. I think I’ve had enough adventures in my youth. I just wanted to be home.” 

“Of course. The Order is your home.”

“One of them, yes. There’s definitely other ways to define what’s a home to someone.”

She knew the hidden meaning behind his words. A cynical part of her thought that he was figuratively dangling that false hope. Or perhaps it was just her reaching. She decided to pivot the topic elsewhere.

“I’ve to ask… who’s the primary source of the aid your Alliance has been dispensing around? Or is that classified information?”

Riornivo smirked. “It is.”

“Ah.”

“But I’m talking to the relevant person, so…” Vaylin raised an eyebrow, having a small clue about what he was about to continue with after that brief pause. “Your vault… it will last us a few years, if spread around the galaxy for restorations. My brother’s handling the outsourcing, while I scout around for potential. We’re basically couriers. A shipping company, in a sense.” 

“One with an assortment of military forces?” Vaylin scoffed. “I heard that you divided the vault amongst yourselves. I’ll just say that I won’t be too happy if the thieves pocketed a large amount.”

“Well that… I can assure you that it’s a fair amount. My brother used his share to strengthen the Alliance. Mine was mostly used for reparations after Nathema. After… after we lost a significant portion of our forces.”

Nathema. The name put a stop to her train of thought. “I thought I destroyed that place. What were you doing there?”

“Hmm. Do you know a man named Vinn Atrius? He was a Horizon Guard.”

“Horizon Captain of the Seventh Batallion, Vinn Atrius?”

“He attempted to utilize, um, Zildrog… and managed to destroy almost half of our Eternal fleet. Nathema’s a completely different place now, and I think some of our Knights and scientists were still stationed there for further investigations.”

“Always knew that man was capable of this. He’s always struck me as somewhat shifty.”

“It was a well thought out plan. Perhaps my brother and I were too preoccupied with many things simultaneously that he managed to exploit a crack somewhere.”

And their conversation branched out, talking for hours with such familiarity. Counter to Vaylin’s bold mannerism was his mediator second nature, allowing for topics to meet a point before shifting to a new one. Until time felt antagonistic for having to end their bonding moments. 

“Would you… be open for future visits by your nieces as they grow?” Rio asked carefully, watching as her eyes became downcast.

“I… I feel it’s better if they don’t know me.”

“They already know you. Aside from being a regular topic there, I think you share a bond with them. Can you feel it?”

Vaylin sighed. “Yes… the moment one of them touched me.”

“Exactly. But of course, you can always change your mind later,” as the shuttle finished its hyperspace trek, displaying Odessen in front of them. “I’ll help them understand, whichever your decision.”

“Appreciate that.”

Relief washed over Rio upon seeing the military hangar empty through the cockpit window. She was the first to unbuckle the seatbelt, pulling the robe’s hood over, then swiftly proceeded towards the shuttle door. The Jedi behind her was still full of doubt and anxiety as he followed her lead.

Standing in wait was none other than the man with his face. The first word out of Riornivo’s mouth was gratitude for complying to his request. A quick glance over the security cameras prompted a response from his twin. “It’s all offline. Better make this quick and discreet. Go.” 

And he acted on Rionnic’s word by confidently grabbing Vaylin’s hand, leading her back to the isolated containment chamber. When the pair arrived at their destination, his hand tightened the grasp instead of letting go. It was quite the unusual sight for her to see him take the lead, intimidating yet somehow alluring. All they could hear was his heavy sigh, face agitated as he turned around.

“Can I… can I be allowed to visit you?”

She smiled a wistful one while shifting her gaze to their hands, moving hers. The Jedi bashfully released his clasp, embarrassed by how tight it was. 

“No.”

Her answer surprised him considering her body language before that. He wanted to argue his case, but decided against it as he wordlessly watched her return to her cell. The force field automatically closed upon her presence. His hand rested against the force field, eyes trained on hers, a phantom regret creeping beneath his psyche. But what exactly was he regretting?

“You should go help your brother. Or the Alliance. I’m not going anywhere anymore.”

Yet he resisted leaving. She decided to ease his tension by comically whipping her head away, eyes closed in a teasing manner of ignoring him. It inflicted the desired effect on him–that of endearment. He carved a parting smile, internally vowing to continue helping her.

The next step was to deal with his twin. Before he could utter a word after entering his office, Rionnic dropped his ultimatum.

“Don’t bother.”

“No, no. I just… want the capital off her. She… she must still face punishment, but…”

“Then don’t. I am merely following the law. I don’t do corruption, Jedi.”

“That’s–listen, I’m not asking you to sway anything. It’s…” Riornivo’s exasperation grew, displayed by a hand through his hair and a sigh.  “Nevermind.”

“Correct. There’s no telling what the results would be. You actually don’t have to do anything, lest you’ll jinx her fate.”

It was no secret that every word coming out of Rionnic’s mouth was true, but the possibility of her death was undeniable. The Sith looked up from his desk to his twin spacing out, brows furrowed. He could only smirk while shaking his head ever so slightly, amused by how much attachment this Jedi had for the former Empress. It was his turn to act on his attachment towards his twin brother, offering some light reassurance. 

“It could take years before court happens. Then–and if, unknown time before execution. This could also be said for your best-friend-in-white, but you don’t seem to have mentioned him once here.”

Riornivo’s expression matched the blush on his face, being caught in a memory hole. His brother’s reassurance seemed palatable, delivery notwithstanding. Both twins were then surprised by a doorbell buzz, revealing Senya on the other end. Their eyes locked in a knowing glance. The former Knight appeared weary.

“I heard from Arcann that she escaped. Have you both looked for her? I came to ask to see the recordings so I can start my search.”

“She’s here, I found her.”

Senya quietly sighed. “Then I want to ask for something else. A big… favor.”

Another moment of silence before she proceeded; her tongue heavy with doubt. 

“I can take her place. It all stemmed from me. I feel… wrongly unscathed from all the damage I’ve caused all those years ago.”

Rionnic smirked before politely retorting. “You know it doesn’t work that way.”

“Aren’t you the current Emperor? You can change any law as you please… I’m old and I don’t have much to live anymore. I want to at least atone for my sins towards her.”

“You still have a family who needs you. Forgive me if it sounds patronizing, but I think you deserve to live out your remaining years with them.” Riornivo coaxed, concerned by Senya’s depressive words. His twin however, had a different approach.

“You would be attempting to cheat justice away from her victims,” As Riornivo flashed a frown towards him. “I know the guilt you carry might be too heavy sometimes, but consider that your retribution. Vaylin and Arcann are getting theirs.”

“I’ve talked to her recently. She said she might be open to visits from her nieces once they’re older.” Riornivo interjected.

That seemed to change Senya’s mood a little. She recalled watching her granddaughters’ laughter and growth, counting her blessings, while her daughter rots in a cell. Again. Although Aryuni was always preoccupied with raising her twins, she had always made time to share in Senya’s sorrows and regrets, comforting her aging soul. The Barsen’thor continued reassuring her but at that point, it felt like background noise to her compared to her loud, internal grief.

“I think what everyone needs here is time. The most I can do is to promise you that she is under my protection, politically or otherwise.” Rionnic stated.

Senya decided to accept the card she’s been dealt with. Riornivo insisted on escorting her back to the shuttle pad, then proceeded to meet with Arcann.

“How have you been doing?”

“Amazing. Being absolutely idle has given me a new perspective in life.”

Was that sarcasm, or has Arcann gone stir crazy? Or perhaps he literally meant his words. “Um... I came to say that Vaylin has returned. Your mother was here too, just then.”

“Did they meet?”

“No, Vaylin’s rule of no visitors stands,” as he continued by relaying Vaylin’s words about his daughters. He was beginning to feel like a gossip, and perhaps the reason why Vaylin refused visitors. Arcann was receptive towards the news, stating that he would pass it along to the mother. 

He spent the next few weeks working with both defense teams, but deep down he knew he had much on his plate. From working on the Alliance itself, to helping the Jedi Order, maintaining diplomatic relations with allies, and distributing humanitarian aids, helping the Zakuulan siblings took a back seat for a while. A full month passed without seeing her. 

But Vaylin made a single exception to her visitor’s rule.

Her heart started racing as soon as she heard the name of her visitor. It was such a minimizing and subduing atmosphere, more than the near death situations she had been in, despite being completely safe. As she sat opposite to her guest, she kept her eyes on the table, somehow afraid of the ones fixated on her. The silence further weakened her resolve.

“Go on, speak to her. It’s okay, we’re all safe here.” whispered the guest’s guardian.

“I just want… I just want to show you my family,” As several recording devices were displayed on the table, Aulia began playing them one by one. Vaylin watched meekly–the recordings were all that of a happier time. A trip to the beach, baking desserts with mother, playing a traditional instrument, and other assortment of activities that seemed foreign to Vaylin’s family dynamics. The child recalled each recording wistfully, the tone of longing clear in her voice.

“And this is my father. He’s really funny but strict, and he worked as a miner… he loved tending to his little garden so much. But I watched him die... His last words to me were to stay alive. I couldn’t save anything from his garden. I couldn’t do anything because I thought I was going to die too. My crushed leg and all that blood…”

The mirialan guardian held Aulia closer to her, patting her shoulders with her arm, whispering further suggestions of leaving which she ignored. 

“That’s my little brother. He just turned three years old a week before he was killed… By one of those gold-and-black-plated Guards. I thought he was better off dead like how my father did, by bombardment. But seeing them tore him apart like he was… he was… by-by their own hands, how could someone do that? I don’t understand…”

As she should not be; she was not yet older than a decade. No child should have to experience such atrocities. When she noticed that Vaylin’s eyes were watery yet avoidant of her face, she demanded the former Empress to look at her. “Finally, my mother. She always wanted the best for me, she said. Even when sometimes it’s things I might dislike. I really, really want to tell her that I’m not annoyed anymore if she nags when I don’t wash my dishes... I don’t know if she’s dead or alive. I didn’t… see her die. But I’ve stopped hoping that I’ll see her again.”

And then there was that silence again. Vaylin knew she should have said something but the fear muted her completely. Witnessing the once fearsome Empress becoming a pathetic mess inflicted a mix of disgust and confusion for the little girl. Her guardian once again coaxed her to end the visitation which she complied to. 

“Thank you for listening. I hope… we don’t meet again.”

Vaylin’s mind was static for the first hour, her soul profusely bleeding. The regret of not saying anything came crawling up–she could have at least apologized, even if it was ultimately meaningless or outright rejected. Was her brother ever faced with something similar? Perhaps he could help in navigating this turmoil. But that would mean altering her own rule, and it seemed like a way back into her family, of whom she wanted to keep a distance from. Then there was still that fragment of pride.

But more importantly, that feeling again. Her tears were not of guilt from having murdered all of those innocent people, it was from being held accountable. She kept forcing herself to always think of the victims, to think of how much it would hurt to lose the ones she loved, while admonishing herself for failing to make sense at the end of it. Thexan’s death felt like a minor inconvenience to her back then, when it should have been devastating. It’s not as if the three of them lacked moments of a somewhat normal childhood.