CT-312
Character
CT-312 had never set foot in the High Republic space before and certainly never attended a Force user ceremony. Particularly a Jedi ceremony, if this even counted as one. The word “knighted” had been mentioned multiple times through channels in passing. It was spoken with reverence and enthusiasm CT-312 didn’t fully understand. Followed by the word “Lily”, that had been enough to catch her attention. Was this the same Lily on Sepan-8? First time encountering a Jedi, exchanging blows at arm’s length rather than using guns or invisible pressure. The Jedi had been the only Force user CT-312 had met who was still capable of fighting without leaning on the Force and held her own against the Scout.
The memory lingered… the crack of helmet and skull receiving punches. The mutual assessment in each strike and the unspoken enough when neither of them had pressed for a kill. There was no victor nor pursuit, but just a shared drink at the nearest dive bar as the conflict between the two parties ended over the comms. Hearing that perhaps Lily was alive and being promoted meant something had gone right since then.
Curiosity more than sentiment had brought CT-312 here, on the Lightspire Station. The atmosphere was saturated with the light side of the Force. Not the usual pressure of choking weight in the air the Scout had learned to associate within the Sith’s domain. This was different. Open and calm. It didn’t scrape at her thoughts or provoke reflective resistance… If anything… it was unsettling how gentle it felt.
CT-312 moved through the corridors and halls like a ghost, hidden in plain sight. The pristine white trooper armor she wore bore no marks or personal tells. Clean and anonymous. Paired with the amulet resting beneath the chest plating, the Scout’s presence slid quietly through the Force. Jedi moved through the space as CT-312 stood around her post. Visor angled just enough to observe without drawing attention. As the ceremony unfolded, this indeed was the Jedi she had encountered. Lily Decoria. Newly promoted. The Scout watched the interactions, who lingered, who watched from afar, and who congratulated and stayed close. Waiting until the moment arrived naturally. When the crowd thinned and Lily stood briefly alone, CT-312 approached.
Stopping at a respectful distance, the helmet’s voice coder activated, smoothing her tone into something neutral and unidentifiable. “Ma’am.” A simple polite nod. CT-312’s gloved hand reached back, her fingers found the folded edges of a small card tucked away among the utility pouches and tools. A folded postcard. She held it out, letting Lily take it at her own pace. Keeping silent. No explanation nor lingering. As the card left her hand another brief nod of confirmation and farewell. CT-312 stepped away, the armor blending back seamlessly into the station’s security as though she’d never stopped.
The note read:
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Good to see that you are alive and still breathing.
Congratulations on your promotion, Knight Lily Decoria.
Owe you a drink next time.
–CT-312
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