Central Forest Krea, Solyiat
It had been almost completely by accident that she discovered the small cluster of cabins nestled need within one of the central forests of the continent. Run down and ramshackle would have been understatements about their condition having clearly been neglected for several decades at the very least.
Work crews had been sent out and worked almost around the clock to restore the buildings and the grounds around them. Fresh wood had been sourced from overgrowth to repair the buildings and covered areas, stones had been dredged from the nearby rivers for walkway stones and also allowed those waters to flow freely once more.
Small, solar and wind generators had been provided for the living areas which provided electricity for the few appliances that had also needed to be replaced. Every building had been refitted and repaired to the High Councillor’s almost exacting standards and felt like small palaces more than a cabin in the middle of the forest.
“Well done,” she said as she looked at the grounds. “I’ll have to remember to send the crewmen thank you gifts.”
She tapped a few places on her datapad and fired off just a series of coordinates to Sirra. It would probably surprise her new friend to know she was in the middle of a forest and not deep in the city as she normally was. “Time to laze about. Maybe do some fishing in the river.”
Not that she knew how to fish, exactly, but how hard could it really be? For now though, she knelt and plucked a long-stemmed blade of puffgrass and stuck it between her teeth.
Wandering over to the edge of the river, Miho settled down into the plush, verdant grass and lowered the brim of her hat down over her face with a light smile on her lips.
Central Forest Krea, Solyiat
The soft trill of the comlink felt at odds within the forest. Even with its efforts to emulate birdsong, the sound still felt tinny and artificial, like an echo of a call, distorted by time. Even with her dislike for it, that at least made the device easy to pick out when it received a signal.
Dropping the fallen tree branch she had been idly carving into a crude statue, Sirra prized the comlink free of her pocket and opened it up. A string of coordinates, linked with a familiar code. She turned, looking toward toward where the coordinates indicated, an amused smile creasing her features. So that was what the commotion had been about.
Most of the game she had been hunting - the few creatures small enough to fall to only a few blaster bolts rather than shrugging off direct hits from a missile launcher - had been on edge. Shaped more by instinct than any higher function, their minds had had mistaken the intruders as predators, with the noise of machinery and intruding figures comprehended more as a new and hostile colony establishing itself than anything more natural. The few which could be comprehended fully indicated a new camp. Most of the animals driven away had already migrated further north, leaving relatively few of their kind in the area. Taking a moment to look about the denser forest, Sirra shrugged and quickly made her decision. Better to spend a few hours in good, if relatively new, company than a few fruitless days of hunting.
Wiping away the strips of wood clinging to her knife’s blade, she sheathed the weapon and then her comlink. The last time she had met Miho had been during a high society garden party, and she was wondering how well the other woman would be adapting to Krea’s wilds.
The short journey lasted only a scant few hours before she closed in on the camp. Its builders had picked it well. Sheltered by an especially dense grouping of trees, the cabins had been contracted close to one of the broad rivers which snaked its way through the forests. Isolated enough to avoid interruptions but open enough to still enjoy what the location had offered, all it needed was another glade for ships to land.
Miho herself was easy enough to find, not bothering to hide her presence in either the Force or more mundane sight. Seated at the river’s edge and apparently just enjoying the moment, she showed little reaction as Sirra approached.
“A new holiday home?” Sirra asked, politeness pushing her to speak rather than send a telepathic burst of information.
A slight tensing in surprise for hearing someone nearly upon her was the only reaction Miho showed before regaining herself and smiling slightly. “Maybe. It’s quiet and peaceful here.” The grass stem bobbed as she spoke around it.
The small woman sat up slowly, adjusting her hat and coat a bit as she moved. “I think I might also advertise it to see if I could recoup some of the money spent to bring it back to life.”
Sirra looked about and then shrugged. “There are worse places,” she agreed with Miho. Then, after spending a few moments trying to consider how best to explain her next point, she reached out telepathically. First displaying some of the continent’s far more hostile creatures and their locations typically far from there, and some easy nearby locations where speeders or a pair of shuttles could be parked. “Did you wish me here to offer recommendations?”
Miho laughed and shook her head, smiling broadly from beneath the wide brim. “No, no. I invited you here as my guest. The first person to stay here aside from myself.”
She beckoned for Sirra to follow her and set off towards the large buildings. “You can pick any of the open cabins. They’re all stocked with basic supplies and some foodstuffs.”
Miho waved a hand toward the center of the buildings, a large sand and gravel circle with a recessed center with what appeared to be several small trees that had been rejected for fixing the cabins. “We can have a nice fire later tonight after we’ve eaten and had a nap. Or gone swimming. Or fishing. Do you know how to fish? There’s gear in one of the sheds, but I have no idea how to use any of it.”
Without waiting for a response, Miho struck off again to the other side of the cabins simply expecting Sirra to follow for the tour. “Over here we have bathing facilities. If you prefer a shower, there’s several rain rooms. The bath areas are split between the sexes because it’s not proper to bathe together in many cultures. Maybe. Probably. Doesn’t matter, it was my choice.”
She continued walking and talking, seemingly without stopping for breath. “Each of the areas is split between three pools of varying temperatures from cold to almost scalding. It’s a good way to feel better after a long day to soak in hot water then finish with a cool rinse off.”
And she was off again, gesturing to different areas where things could be done, open air barbeques, a place where a wet bar could had if there was enough people that wanted one, staff quarters for large events so they could be on hand without needing to be flown in at a moment’s notice. It was just more cost effective that way, of course.
Sirra followed listening with curiosity, unsure what to make of this but feeling an odd sense of excitement. There was no formality to Miho’s comments, no effort to prepare her for a mission. What she could pick out from her thoughts as much as her body language made it clear she was at ease here. It it was only when Miho was discussing the bathing facilities, it finally dawned on Sirra that she had been called over with an offer of leisure rather than to hunt down a target or protect someone.
“And we have this place to ourselves?” Sirra asked, the tension of her body slowly easing away as she hurried slightly to keep up with Miho. “Just ourselves and this?” she asked, gesturing at the surrounding wilds. It was a reminder that, as close as she had been with Tarvitz, Artemis, and so many others, few of them had shared any real love for the outdoors besides Celevon, and his own work often kept him away for months at a time.
Sirra’s eyes drifted over the cabins, mouth twitching in a slight smile as several options came to mind, including one leading offer Miho had less than surreptitiously added to her description.
“Fishing is easy enough, especially here,” Sirra grinned, holding back from just pulsing a mental demonstration. “And it’s even easier to learn with the fish around here. Unlike the coastal ones, you don’t have to use thermal detonators to land anything lurking in the rivers.”
Miho turned and looked over her shoulder at Sirra, smiling broadly. “The work crews have all packed up and moved on to their next project for me. And no one has been made aware of this place even existing.”
She started walking back towards the center of the campground. “Not a single soul other than us for miles. Maybe you can show me how to do the fishing thing. It could be fun.”
Sirra’s answer didn’t come verbally, and it was just a feeling of genuine joy and relief that emanated through her telepathically. It was a moment before she realised her mistake and withdrawing her mind once more.
“Sorry,” she admitted, momentarily becoming deeply invested in the grass between them before moving on again. “Won’t happen again without permission.”
As she followed Miho past the buildings, still carrying the scents of recently finished construction clashing with the more aged nature of the surrounding forest, Sirra reached out in the Force toward the river. Pulses of flickering life emanated through the Force as she picked out large shoals. A large group were dominated by feelings of hunger, closing in toward the shallows, and with their thoughts directed toward the seabed. Bottom feeders, perfect.
Holding up a hand for Miho to pause, Sirra disappeared for a moment behind one house. There was a dry crack of wood followed by a loud scraping noise and the rustling. After a minute or two Sirra reappeared, carrying two straight branches twice the length of her forearm, each with a throwing blade now bound to their hit.
“You have used a spear before?” Sirra asked, already sure from Miho’s disposition and the echo of combat colouring her mind that she had used such weapons more than once.
Miho looked at the spear, one eyebrow raised curiously. Her own Kurotsubaki was pretty much a spear, albeit the blade was a plasma instead of steel.
Not that Sirra had ever seen her fight. Or be anything more than a statesman at official functions.
“To hunt animals? No, I can’t say I have.”
She accepted the spear and hefted it a couple of times. The weight was good, almost perfect for her size. “I take it spear fishing is your preference?”
Sirra shrugged, remembering past hunting efforts. Mire krakens, some type of eel she had never learned the name of, and even some of the landspeeder sized crustaceans which had somehow migrated up from the ocean floor. Each too hard for a mere spear to kill, requiring the use of anti-armour mines or the creative use of collapsing buildings to destroy. The kraken in particular had proven to be tenacious, even after its blubbery form had been torn and half-buried beneath a landslide of collapsing masonry.
“We could use something else if you wish,” Sirra admitted, her words slow with reluctance. Trying to use any of her typical fishing tools simply felt unfair in this situation. “Do you fish with blasters?”
Miho stumbled a step and caught herself with the butt of her spear as she starting laughing again. This went on for several moments until there were tears coming from her eyes.
“Blasters?” She wheezed softly in response and continued to chuckle softly. “I cannot even imagine what kind of fish you would use a blaster for.”
She lifted her spear with a smile and shook her head, wiping her eyes with her free hand. “No, no. This will likely be just fine. But, we also have a few rods in one of the sheds we could have also used.”
Still chuckling softly to herself, Miho wondered slightly about what kind of fishing is done with a blaster.
With an expression of utter incredulity, the type normally reserve for people spontaneously growing a second head, Sirra tried to process the suggestion. The very idea of being able to successfully land a fish, rapidly bludgeoning it into submission with a wooden rod before it could retreat and then hauling it onto land, felt like some test of mastery or a game thought up by someone with more mead than sense in their body.
“The dagger can be untied, if you wish to fish that way,” Sirra said, indicating the item she had handed to Miho as they approached the water’s edge, still feeling the suggestion had been some joke at her expense. “Otherwise, this will do.”
Sirra knelt down, removing her footwear and and leaving them in a neat pile before rolling up the grey fatigues she wore until they were at knee height. “It might take several attempts to hit one, but it will be worth it.”
Miho watched as Sirra pulled off her boots and rolled the cuffs of her trousers. Looking down at her own boots, which were cut just below her knees, Miho looked back at Sirra, then her boots. Then shrugged and set her spear against a tree.
She pulled her green frock coat off and hung it on a short branch, then placed her hat there as well. The blue-black hair fell around her shoulders and concealed her face as she bent down to unlace the back of her boots and slide out of them and her stockings to stand barefoot on the verdant loam.
“I won’t really be able to roll my pants up like that. The leather doesn’t like it that much and I seem to have forgotten a swimsuit so they’ll just have to get wet I suppose,” she said with a wry smile. “I’ll just make sure they dry out really well later.”
Miho hefted the spear again with a grin. “Shall we go stab our supper?”
Sirra returned the grin with one of her own, weighing her own spear. Not being able to readily tap into someone’s mind to read them was a hinderance, bereft of the usual colouring thoughts and subtleties which underlay actions. Even so, there was a genuine energy to her motion that felt far more honest than the usual mockery she had come to suspect of others.
Not waiting for Miho, Sirra waded in, her movements slow against the icy waters. Sinking slightly with each step, she was easing with the current, slowly shifting downstream as she felt the flicker-lights of the large shoal sifting through the sands some way ahead of them. A churning cloud of silt and stones from their efforts hid them against the crystal waters, preventing the looming hunters from being picked up as they closed in.
“The big ones,” Sirra said, indicating an area barely two metres from them. “Can you hit the one on the right?”
Miho watched the Kiffar move through the water sort of envious. She had never really been that graceful, but she could move without disturbing things around her. Manji and Mushashi had made sure to teach her the bushcraft they had learned during their travels.
The water moved in soft ripples as she traversed the short way to catch up to Sirra. “I can get him, yeah.” Her voice was little more than a whisper as she moved through the water to get into position.
Miho watched the two large fish moving through the water, moving closer as the water began to settle around her legs, waiting and watching for the moment to strike her chosen fish.
Giving only a slight sideways look to be sure Miho was ready, and pleasantly surprised to see the other woman had some obvious experience at moving unseen, Sirra raised her spear. There was no overt lunging motion or sudden leap. One moment Sirra had the spear raised, the next it punched down into the water, only easing herself forward slightly with the throw.
Like a needle stitching a thread, the spear punched through the water with minimal resistance and struck home. Beneath the water there was a surprised shudder from the large fish before near-black red misted up from it, and it lay still.
She aimed carefully, lined up the fish and stabed down with tremendous force.
And missed.
Quick as a snake, Miho yanked the spear from the riverbed and stabbed again. And missed. With a howl of frustration, she tossed the spear to the side, her violet eyes flashing with a type in incredulous fury.
She reached out her hand and closed it as though grabbing ahold of something and yanked up. The fish came up out of the with an audible pop as the water displaced around the swiftly rising creature.
With a grin, she turned and looked at Sirra a bit sheepishly. “I, uh…”
She shrugged as she pulled the fish to her waiting hand. “I missed.”
Miho looked down and stirred her feet, nudging the bewitched fish with her toes. “Thank you, but no. These two should be enough.”
She laughed softly as she moved through the water towards the shore, holding her hand out to call her spear back. Obediently, it came at her call and came to a rest across her palm.
“Shall we go get these on ice for later? We can get a fire going in the center and just relax for a bit if you’d like,” she said, a smile still wide across her face.
Sirra frowned, looking between Miho and the waiting fish. Why go to all the trouble of preparing a hunt and locating some worthwhile meat only to take the easiest morsels among them. Still, she shrugged and accepting this, releasing the few fish she had taken control over with a casual wave of her hand. There was a series of terrified splashes as each raced for the depths of the river once more.
“I am open to that,” Sirra said as they walked back to the shore, still wincing inwardly at how stilted it sounded compared to the more graceful exchange of thoughts. Compared to Miho’s far more graceful and easy grasp of speech, her statements felt ill formed and crude by comparison. As she considered the other woman’s obvious high born nature, a thought crossed her mind. “You… You do know how to make a fire, or should I do it?”
Miho looked over her shoulder, tilting the wide brim of her hat back a bit to see more clearly. “Hm? Of course I can start a fire.”
She led the pair back towards the large fit pit in the center of the campground and gestured, several small branches and assorted twigs forming a base in the center of the sand. To tha, several larger sticks were arranged in a cone around the twigs. Reaching into one of her many pockets, Miho pulled out a small box and shook it.
“You can rub sticks together if you are really in a pinch, but I always carry matches of some kind with me,” she said as she smiled at Sirra. “It makes it a bit easier to get to dinner.”
A large chest came floating from one of the buildings and rested on the cobbled outline of the fire pit. Opening it, she laid her fish inside and gestured for Sirra to do the same. “We can get to those in a few minutes.”
“… Thank you?” Sirra offered, surprised at how forward Miho was being in this. She still wasn’t sure what to make of the other woman. High class and being at home in the woodlands, even a defanged version like the huts, simply didn’t equate in her mind. Those she had always encountered had been those whose thoughts were tied up in which out of eight forks to pick first in dinner, not anything more practical like how to start a campfire. She actually started to uncoil her thoughts, reaching out to touch Miho’s mind, before recalling her promise. More words, fewer mental messages. As frustrating as that was.
Biting her lip, Sirra considered how best to approach the topic of how at ease Miho was here, how it might be phrased by a noble, before just giving up. The sooner she asked, the easier it would be to move onto anything far more fun; especially if Miho was half as adept as she had indicated so far.
“And you’re used to doing this?” Sirra asked, thinking over several times if this was the polite way to phrase the question, and completely failing to hide her incredulity. “Fishing, fire making… Survival?”
Miho glanced over at Sirra and smiled a little sadly. The simple truth had always been one of their closest secrets. The one truth that only they knew. With a shrug, the small Kyataran turned back towards the fire she qas making.
“My brothers taught me everything they knew. Some of it stuck, some of it had to be learned the hard way later on,” she said to the kindling. “Nekura was always the most patient with me. He taught me the basics and even the ideas behind brewing your own wines.”
Striking a match, she held it to the kindling and leaned back on her heels once it caught. “Musashi taught me other ways and reasons for hunting. And then K'hamar'a happened.”
Dark shadows filled Miho’s eyes as she continued to look deep into the fire, her words matter of fact, deep trauma that could only be spoken of like it had happened to someone else. “I was left behind on that planet when I was very young. I had gotten away from Musashi and attacked our enemies.
Then the sky burned. The land burned. The seas boiled. The survivors of the cult found me and sold me to a passing slaver.”
She added a few more logs to the fire, building it in the proper way. “He would find places and leave me there. If I found my way to his home, I got fed. If I didn’t, I had to fend for myself. I spent a lot of time lost in the wilderness for a lot of years.”
Without intention, the memories so powerful began to leak out of the young woman, tainting the very air around her with a deep, unrelieved sadness.
And a deeper, black pit of rage underneath.
The sheer bitter contempt which radiated from Miho was a gnarled scar. An old wound which was long closed, but still bringing about old agonies when touched. Even in her effort not to read Sirra, certain details were picked out. Strong memories of faces, certain incidents, and moments where the feelings were so strong the events were written into her very soul. There was some joy to be found there, but it was smothered by harsher experiences.
Sirra gave Miho a sideways look but said nothing, taking some time to help her build the firepit. Stacking up the logs and building it upon a few scraps of dried grass which had been found close by. What was there to say after that? That their experiences were similar, but whereas Miho had spent a life friendless and owned by another, Sirra had spent it evading gangs beneath a durasteel sky? Or that while Miho had benefitted from a basic education and family before her torment, Sirra had lacked both but had come to oddly enjoy the thrill of survival in many moments.
Still, she couldn’t just say nothing.
“You… you at least escaped him,” Sirra said after some time, picking the only thing she could think to say which didn’t make her want to kick herself. Quite how anyone conversed like this in detail was completely beyond her. “And woodlandmanship is still a good skill.”
Already certain she had botched the actual word for surviving in forests, Sirra actively avoided looking at Miho as she set about the remainder of the fire. Ignoring the matches Miho had mentioned, Sirra grabbed the stick she had been using as a spear and, with some effort, spun the point against one of the logs. After a short time, a cinder of smoke began to rise from the fire, along with a slowly spreading flame.
“The others… Your kin? Did you ever find them?”
Dragged from the dark memories, Miho looked at Sirra again, blinking for a moment. “Hm?”
The world caught up in a snap and the Kyataran smiled gently. “Mmm-yes. We have run into each other a few times. Recently.”
The reminder made her laugh softly, as she thought about it. “Musashi even introduced me to his wife. They spend their time between Sepros and Kyataru to my knowledge. He seems like he carried a great weight for a long time and it’s made him…”
She thought for a moment, picking the right words. “Hard. Nekura and the others don’t usually leave Kyataru anymore and I’m afraid to face the rest of them, but one day I will.”
“Odan-Urr will be there, if you require it,” Sirra said at Miho’s last words with a nod. She had been following the other woman’s statements, even as she was clearly taking in older and bleaker events of her past. Even if it was unlikely to be a fight, clan was clan at the end of the day. If you couldn’t stand by and fight alongside them without reservation, being a member meant absolutely nothing.
Still, she knew two of those names. Worlds within Brotherhood space, and important ones at that. One was an older enemy they had clashed with more than once but were now in a tenuous alliance, and the other had a place in its history. The fire was slowly beginning to expand now, whisps of smoke rising into a more solid black pillar against the sky. Sirra only half noticed as she realised what the other woman was implying. It could have been an innocent comment Sirra was misreading, but there was an undercurrent of weight to Miho’s words
“Musashi,” Sirra said slowly. “People know him by another name, don’t they.”
She tilted her head to the side and nodded. “Our names are hard for outsiders to pronounce. He’s called Muz by them.”
Miho laughed for a moment, genuine happiness in the sound. “The look on his face when we met again and he found that I was the leader of a group of Jedi was funny enough to cover my own surprise to see him again.”
She shrugged slightly, the soft, happy smile still on her lips. “It will take time for us to be family again, but it was good to see him again.”
The single thought. A memory of their meeting slipped through the cracks in Miho’s iron control.
The memory of meeting again for the first time. The stunned look on the man’s face, scarred eyes wide in surprise.
People like us don’t get happy endings. We have to make them.
There was no sound from Sirra, but no judgement at this news either. Save for the quiet crackle of burning logs and the song of birds nearby, only a quiet silence existed between the two. Sirra’s own memories lingered briefly on her birth parents, and the disaster of a reunion they had attempted, almost resulting in a bloodbath in the snow. Then of those she had accepted as family, regardless of species or where they had spent their childhood. But for most, Sirra knew, that blood connection was not so insignificant.
“I’m glad,” Sirra managed at length, after finally settling on the right words. She could feel other memories, ones which could make this so much easier, flowing through her own mind and Miho’s, but she avoided connecting them. “Standing alone on any world is difficult. But does this create um… Complications?”
After all, Muz Ashen’s name had been mentioned among the Jedi with varying degrees of hostility. Tarvitz had often cited a desire to fight him but that was true of most Sith, and those thoughts had been tinged with excitement rather than dread.
Complications? The idea was odd. Anathema even. There would never be an instance ever where her brother would raise a hand against the Jedi.
At least, not so long as she was with them.
“No, there wouldn’t be complications. My family has reasons to hate the Jedi and Musashi even more so.” She thought about her words for a moment, measuring them one by one. “Keibatsu do not fight one another. Ever. Train, yes. Fight, never. Our bonds forbid it going back centuries.”
Violet eyes turned to Sirra, empty as a winter sky for a moment before warming again. “In fact, it is reasonable that if we were in trouble of some kind we could petition him to help rather than worry about his hand being against us.”
“So long as you are here,” Sirra said, more repeating Miho’s words than fully accepting them. This was the one thing she had grown to dislike about the wider world. The clarity of loyalties and direct links were all too often diluted by outside influences or history.
Sirra avoided mentioning the memories gleaned from the older members of the clan. Memories of a world aflame, with neon death raining from the sky, oceans boiling, and a continuous assault but unnumbered legions killing all in their path. Some were muddled, as if confusing two contradictory events, but the outcome for the clan was always the same. Even without looking into Miho’s mind it wasn’t that same coldness, but there was an oddity there she hadn’t expected to see.
“Does…” Sirra considered, already abandoning her initial question for being too personal. Still, she wanted to hear more from Miho about her blood kin. “What is it like to train against them?”
“Training with them?” She thought for a minute, remember the sparring match with Nekura before he declared her proficient enough to fight at their sides.
“We push each other to be better, faster, more.” Her smile became sad around the edges for a moment. “After Kuroshin, all I have was Nekura. We trained constantly, every day from sunrise to sunset. Sparring, hunting, practicing, learning to blend into a galaxy we knew almost nothing about.”
Miho thought for a moment and shrugged. “Well, that I knew nothing about. All of brothers were taken or left to fight for others. Musashi was taken by a Jedi, Nekura left to be a mercenary, Shikyo was given to an enemy to protect ourselves a little longer.
There were others, but the only full-blooded siblings were the four of us.” The smile brightened again. “And each of us has a unique style to fight with.”
She leaned back and basked in the warmth of the fire against her skin for a moment, her eyes half closed in enjoyment. “Musashi found us later. And he was always gentle with us. The father we had lost, and the brother we had regained.”
“It sounds,” Sirra tried to think of the right words. “It sounds Mandalorian.” She tried to make it clear this was something she approved of from her tone, but it was evident it fell short. “Focused, pure, united,” Sirra said, making a gesture with one hand as she tried to come up with other words to express what she associated with it, before giving up.
In truth, in spite of what would follow in Miho’s life, Sirra could not help but feel a pang of envy for developing in that environment. By any reasonable standard it was idyllic. Conflict with a degree of trust. Unity of purpose if not a fighting style or individual strength. Even the ability to follow a different way of life, but still feel that connecting purpose. Even to trust someone enough to raise a blade against you for practice without it ending in death or subjugation. The closest she had experienced had been an offer of food from a ganger in exchange for local knowledge, and had resulted in an ugly scar in her side from a shiv.
Picking up one of the longer sticks, Sirra stoked the flames, parting some of the logs to allow the tongues of red heat to rise higher. “It is good you knew them and met again,” Sirra continued, trying to carry the conversation, and genuinely hoping to hear more from Miho’s time on Kyataru. “That you would… Sorry, I’m bad at this.”
The fire had risen now into a healthy inferno, reaching up into the air with fingers of flame. as Miho spoke, genuinely curious as she stoked the campfire and nursed it. Even with her efforts, Sirra was listening intently to Miho’s talk of her birthworld and life here. The image retained of it was clear in all this time, and that was just as evident in her memories as her words, speaking of locations so beautifully she might as well have been standing there. Actually having something to focus upon prevented Sirra from intruding upon Miho’s mind and snatching up all but the most minor of details, still trying to respect the other woman’s privacy.
“That’s…” Sirra said, trying to choose how to carefully phrase her thoughts. “That’s good. You have something clear to hold onto of your past. An image of things gone, clearer as any reflection. That gives you…” she gave an irritated grunt at the exact phrase escaping her. “Continuity? It means in spite of everything that happened you are still you.”
Part of Sirra felt as if she should have been adding honourifics of bowing before Miho now, but that was mostly a holdover from having been around the Vatali who called the system home for so long. A few details in particular stood out. Perhaps it was Miho’s words or simply what stayed in her head, but Sirra felt a few old memories kindle some thoughts of her own.
“We had camellia and cherry blossoms on my family’s island,” Sirra said before she could recognise her mistake. “Not the same, the scents were blended with other plants. But compared with the metal jungle they were beautiful.”
Miho tilted her head to the side, a gentle smile on her lips. “Those are some of my favorite scents.” If she noticed the slip, she gave no outward sign of it.
In fact, for her it was just a matter of course. Sharing and seeing into the hearts and souls of others was the normal give and take her her family.
“I have a miniature cherry blossom growing in a window box at the Praxeum. It gives my little room a soft scent that reminds me of home.”
She thought about her spartan quarters at the Praxeum. It held weapons, clothes, books and scrolls. But, the only real personalization had been the window box with its little plant.
“Sometimes, I’ll lie there at night and the smell makes me feel like the nightmares weren’t real for a moment. That mother will come to tuck me in.”
She closed her eyes and smiled gently, the memory one of those treasured moments. Remembered so often that the edges were worn smooth, the images losing a bit of focus. She was an adult now, her family gone and buried decades before, but these memories, barely minted and remembered with a perfection that could make the heart bleed, seemed so new, so fresh, so alive.
Sirra listened, seating herself by the fire’s now it was burning brightly. She had barely held back a flinch upon realising the subject had come from skimming over Miho’s thoughts. By some small mercy Miho seemed to have not noticed or, far more likely, let the slight pass.
The contemplative look from Miho gave Sirra pause as she considered how best to proceed. Despite the secret having been unintentionally taken rather than offered, the trust in so personal a tale needed to be returned. To hold onto that and offer nothing would be to treat her as an outsider. Promises be damned, it was only fair.
“That is worth keeping,” Sirra said slowly, trying her best to mimic how a storyteller might phrase their speech. “Everyone has… Has totems. Things to help them remember, to call upon the past and of better times. Or people.”
There was the subtle hiss of a blade being released from its sheath. The weapon, a far more baroque and broad-bladed design than any typical hunter’s weapon, seemed to catch the fire and return it in kind. Beneath the blade’s alchemical metals, something rolled and stirred. Even as the lesser of two such creations it would suffice.
Sirra laid her bare hand upon the metal and focused, pulling upon memories written so deep into the metal they had been etched into its very spirit. Then, tentatively, her mind reached out and pressed against Miho’s psyche. Not an intrusion but an invitation. Then she recalled the prior times. The early months before she had called Celevon her father or the Werd'la her family. Cautious nerves and lessons slowly giving way to gradual trust, as much through learning the Force as the ways of woodcraft.
One specific incident stood at the forefront of this all. A night where memories of the Smuggler’s Moon becoming too strong to easily sleep, and nerves robbed her of any peace. Still clad in warplate from an earlier hunt, Artemis had come to comfort Sirra, until the younger girl felt safe enough for sleep to claim her.
Miho listened to the whisper through her, enjoying the feel of the memories, the emotions carried within them. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breath, as though she could smell the Moon around them reaching from the past.
“Memories are what keep us alive, I think. Memories and family.” Her words were soft and her eyes still closed. “For a long time, I thought I had lost one and clung to the other with all I was.”
Violet eyes opened and a gentle smile crossed her lips. “And now, I have my family back and those memories are still fresh enough that I can share them with my brothers.” Her eyes focused on the Kiffar, her smile becoming even more gentle, somewhat more mysterious. “And with new friends as well, it seems.”
That at least made things simple now. No mockery, no insults, and no immediate suggestions something so private would be used against her. Sometimes a leap of faith genuinely paid off, even if it was motivated by a sense of fair play. The question was what would happen next. Sheathing the blade once more, Sirra looked between the fire and then Miho.
“Friends,” Sirra agreed, managing a far more genuine smile now. “And thank you. But please keep this here… between us.”
Sirra stared at Miho, then at the items on her person, and her expression took on a thoughtful quality. “If you… If you want…” She mulled it over before sighing. Taking advantage of already having broadcast a substantial message, Sirra’s thoughts extended to Miho once more, displaying an offering. Miho, images of any items precious to her, and then Sirra utilising her power to tap into any strong emotions or histories locked within them, pulling them free and showing them to Miho in turn.
To emphasise her point, Sirra plucked up a stray rock nearby, plucking a vivid memory of the construction which had so recently taken place, and the events which led the fragment of stone to reside there.