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13-04-2023, 08:56 PM
For a number of months, Faelice hadn’t slept well, getting used to a perpetual state of slight yet growing fatigue.
This was different.
She took up slow patrol of the Mosila circuit during the night, finding little of note… Or simply missing it as she passed. Every other round she’d stop at the hospital, trying to find something to do. Every other round she’d find nothing, and set off again in search of something to occupy the sleepless night.
Faelice’s idle steps brought her to the Imperial barracks, to the cantina of Mosila. She stood at the base of the incline up to the entrance, a few peculiar glances from passing imperial soldiers coming back from, or going out to their patrols. She paid them no heed as they passed, faceless uniforms disappearing into the night.
What felt like hours was in reality a couple of minutes at most. The dull thud of armoured footsteps pushed forward. They slowed more and more as they got close to the entranceway, stopping a few feet out. She turned to look at the barracks, her face falling. No sense of the positivity and mischief that regularly found its home there.
She didn’t look long. She backed away. She pressed herself up against the craggy edge of the cliff, the natural barrier stopping immediate view into the market, and sank to the floor. She withdrew herself as much as she could, trying to vanish into the night, into the darkness. Her already small form drew into a ball, she withdrew her presence in the force, and she avoided meeting the gaze of anyone, or anything that would try to catch her attention. She took one of the lightsaber hilts from her belt, and set it in her lap. Just staring.
The memory of nights prior flooded her mind. Too painful to look on at. Too intense to look away. Fleeting thoughts whipped around her head, a whispered narration to the playback. Each one gone, as soon as it had arrived.
“I executed my master’s command…”
“What you executed was a room full of innocents.”
“This was necessary…”
“This was only necessary to cover what happened here.”
“They weren’t complying...”
“They were in no state to do anything else.”
A single sob. A single sob was all that came from her that might have betrayed her position. She bit into her arm to stifle it, to prevent her shroud in the darkness from being discovered. The blade in her lap had been in so many battles. It had carved the life out of innumerable foes, all but the worst long forgotten, perhaps within mere minutes. But this…
This was different.
This was different.
She took up slow patrol of the Mosila circuit during the night, finding little of note… Or simply missing it as she passed. Every other round she’d stop at the hospital, trying to find something to do. Every other round she’d find nothing, and set off again in search of something to occupy the sleepless night.
Faelice’s idle steps brought her to the Imperial barracks, to the cantina of Mosila. She stood at the base of the incline up to the entrance, a few peculiar glances from passing imperial soldiers coming back from, or going out to their patrols. She paid them no heed as they passed, faceless uniforms disappearing into the night.
What felt like hours was in reality a couple of minutes at most. The dull thud of armoured footsteps pushed forward. They slowed more and more as they got close to the entranceway, stopping a few feet out. She turned to look at the barracks, her face falling. No sense of the positivity and mischief that regularly found its home there.
She didn’t look long. She backed away. She pressed herself up against the craggy edge of the cliff, the natural barrier stopping immediate view into the market, and sank to the floor. She withdrew herself as much as she could, trying to vanish into the night, into the darkness. Her already small form drew into a ball, she withdrew her presence in the force, and she avoided meeting the gaze of anyone, or anything that would try to catch her attention. She took one of the lightsaber hilts from her belt, and set it in her lap. Just staring.
The memory of nights prior flooded her mind. Too painful to look on at. Too intense to look away. Fleeting thoughts whipped around her head, a whispered narration to the playback. Each one gone, as soon as it had arrived.
“I executed my master’s command…”
“What you executed was a room full of innocents.”
“This was necessary…”
“This was only necessary to cover what happened here.”
“They weren’t complying...”
“They were in no state to do anything else.”
A single sob. A single sob was all that came from her that might have betrayed her position. She bit into her arm to stifle it, to prevent her shroud in the darkness from being discovered. The blade in her lap had been in so many battles. It had carved the life out of innumerable foes, all but the worst long forgotten, perhaps within mere minutes. But this…
This was different.
