It had been a meeting of fate. She had been unlucky enough to be born into a war-torn society - or so he had thought. The memories were tainted now, sewn with lies. What had once been fond memories had all been part of an elaborate ruse. For what purpose? He didn’t know. Now, every memory of her was blighted with sorrow at the loss of what once had been. The foundation of the life they had built together had crumbled, their family was split across the galaxy.
While Lilliana was a body with a heartbeat, the person he knew was dead which was even more painful to acknowledge. The thought of her being alive taunted him, knowing she was still here and yet unreachable. His heart ached at the loss of the person who had been at his side for a decade but he clung to the happier memories and the thread of hope that one day the person he loved and longed for would return. For now, the future seemed bleak with the memories of the ordeal fresh in his mind, not just the uprooting of his life but the treatment and beatings he had received while captive aboard the ship.
Ki’an was soon snapped back to reality from his pensive reminiscing by the sound of warning signals and the accompanying flashing light. He looked down to see a small hand on a lever which he promptly pulled away and placed the lever back in its original position. “Don’t do that.” He told her without a hint of sternness while holding her hand to prevent her from doing so again. His gaze lingered on her for a few more moments. At least he had retained his youngest children through it all - something he would be eternally thankful for, though it did little to sweeten the fact their sister and mother were still trapped with an uncertain fate.
Upon realising she was being prevented from misbehaving, the large green eyes lifted to meet the faceless helmet which looked back down at her. They were the same eyes that had met ten years ago that held the same mischief. He removed the helmet with one hand and placed it to the side, his face a picture of ordeal he had been through, face stained with blood and freshly settled bruises. He leaned down and kissed the top of her head, his expression remaining vacant.
The experience had shaken him to his core and he was unsure how to express himself. In the past, he had always looked for the light in the cracks of adversity but never had such strife hit so close to home. He wanted to remain upbeat for his children’s sake and knew that if he gave into the feelings of despair that he might never recover, but now, still reeling from the shock, he was uncharacteristically quiet and seemingly emotionless. He showed no outward sign or anger or sadness, only pensive thinking.
What the immediate future held for the now trio, he couldn’t say. With no safe home to return to, it seemed he would need to rely on the Jedi for the time being for the protection of his children that he was regretfully unable to protect, a painful and humiliating realisation. He had always known he was not as skilled a fighter as many of his peers, much preferring science and scholastic pursuits over combat, but had not concerned himself too much with the thought seeing as he had uses elsewhere. Today, however, his lack of combat prowess put him to shame and had cost him his family.
His mind was a whirlwind of insecurity, grieving and hopelessness. He was conscious of the fact that Jedi would be able to feel his true emotions regardless of any outward portrayal he might attempt but he hoped that if he faked it for long enough then he might be believed.
