Embers

[Azzy]

I can’t sleep.


The lack of sleep isn’t exactly an uncommon experience of late. I go about my day, finding ways to keep myself busy. I try and fall asleep after it all and there’s no entertaining the notion. My nights are so often taken up by tossing and turning. Inevitably, I’ll start to neglect the idea, so I walk.

As I walk the streets as empty as I wish my mind was, I can’t help but see the marks of our involvement here, wherever I end up. It’s clear to see that our foothold has been established on this planet in ways that won’t soon be forgotten… By those native to Anx Minor, or those who’ve made the battlefields their home.

The irregular trembling of the ground was a shock, at first. I soon learned to ignore all but the strongest. Correcting my balance became second nature so quickly I barely remember having to pay any attention at all. The nights were once filled with the nocturnal life of the planet. Where they’ve gone, I can only speculate. All that I know is I don’t hear them. I haven’t heard them in… Longer than I care to try and recall.

The wind lashes angrily behind me as an accompaniment to my walking, the friend that staves away the loneliness of the night. It does nothing to stop that I remember so much of it all. So much of what we’ve done.

I eventually make my way to Mosila’s Imperial Barracks, or… Whatever’s left. My chest grows heavy, but I don’t push it aside anymore… Or maybe I do, and I’m just desensitised to it. They needed to die. We couldn’t advance, attack, defend the way we did if we had to worry about making sure the… The hundreds of republic forces were kept quiet, and didn’t give us away. Didn’t call for help. They would have been killed at some point anyway, why not that night? Why not by me? A small voice whispers in Faelice’s mind. ”This was only necessary to cover what happened here.” She pays it no heed.

I’ve moved on from the nights that I’d just sit here, curled up. I can’t change what happened, and I’m no longer blind to the fact that there’s no reason to change it. I carry on walking the empty streets of Mosila, the ones that haven’t seen the hustle and bustle of civilian life in so many long, long weeks.

Minutes pass, barely, and I stand just before the market. There was a fight here, right after we took the town, set firm our occupation. Emlar fought Syllel, I don’t remember what it was about. Probably to do with Syllel being the furthest thing from a Sith we’ve had ascend to apprentice… That I’ve borne witness to, at least. My master intervened, as did hers. I think it’s a shame, Emlar should have been allowed the full fight. She’d’ve been dispatched sooner.

I don’t linger too long before moving on yet again. I glance sideways at the market square as I pass. The ring I wear on my right hand came from here. I also managed to get some answers as to how the Anx operate, their tectonic communications. Answers that led to us hindering and halting their methods entirely. To think that it started with someone that just turned up one day. My master promised that he’d be kept safe for the night. I wonder what happened to him after that.

Past the market square… Administration buildings, I think. I never had any reason to go inside them. I approached once, though, with Evelyn. It was the first I’d seen of her for a while… A long while, actually. I wasn’t sure if she’d heard the call to war, been able to wrap up whatever business she was on in time to join us. She managed, though. Clearly. I’d heard her mention that she was interested in learning to use a staff, so I’d spent some time making her one even before we’d left. I thought that it might help her on the battlefields, though I’m not sure she’s gotten round to learning how to use it. She hadn’t when I last spoke to her, fought with her, at least. She should work on it, I hope I gave her some… Inspiration, motivation? I suppose we’ll see if she exceeds the bar I set.

The hospitals… I’ve spent so long there, in the various halls of our various bases. It started off as more of a… Joint venture. My master’s kingdom, her apprentice’s ambition. She eventually passed the reins to me, in part, at least. A steady hand to point the right direction, but I was given control. I… I tried as best I could, with what I had, for who was saveable. I couldn’t save them all… Saving them all was never a possibility. Such is the price of war.

I’ve had a taste of the power I aspire to have. The power to be in control of both life, and death. I possess the ancient arts, and I put the knowledge to good use, but Zartilda, Krassus, my master… Their lives were in my hands, and any wrong move, accidental or deliberate, could have had them slip through my fingers. It’s nothing less than thrilling. Perhaps… Intoxicating, even.

And then there’s mine.

The gates of Mosila are far behind me now, while shadowed trenchlines stand before. I look into the distance and… Maybe it’s the memory, or maybe I’m just tired, but the shape of a fallen Republic walker sits on the distance. I know it’s not real. It’s hazy, blurry. We have scouts that would have rung the alarm bells already, but I see it.

I’m back in the crowded trenches, the ones that smell of blood and death. I see my master, and I see Emlar. Neither of them in a very good position. A hasty retreat, one that should have been started sooner. One that I should have been out there to help with.

I reach out to her.

My hand closes to a fist.

I try to protect her.

Nothing happens.

This time, I feel the floor rise to greet me, but I don’t care. The wind whips overhead, sand passing above me. Plenty of it falling atop me as well. For several minutes, I lay unmoving. This time, there are no prophets with their death prayers. This time, Evelyn is not begging someone for help. This time, I am not dying on the floor because I made a bad judgement call, and prioritised the preservation of others above that of myself.

Slowly, I sit up. Minutes more pass, but the sand in my face was getting to me. It’s been getting to me for weeks. I’ve lived on Dromund Kaas for my entire life, there’s no reason a planet should be so dry, or so coarse. Eventually, I stand up, and look over the trenches again. ITEC have pulled back, and we’re establishing our retreats. Our time is nearly done here, and we’re beckoned home once more.  I see some of the signs, but not all of them. Not as much as where we fought Jedi.

We are standing in the embers of a dying world, and I don’t know how long left there is.

I turn back to Mosila, and I can feel the fatigue setting in, finally. Maybe there’s enough time for a rest before the embers catch again, and we’re all awoken by flames licking at our doors.

Or maybe there won’t be.