Private A matter of time

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Azbrian
Objective: Catch up on emails
Tag: Colette
​

Under the shadow of dark clouds and steady rainfall, the front door of the Westgard homestead slammed shut. Silas had just come in from the barn, where he'd been taking his time repairing an old shovel on the workbench. Its handle had broken after years of hard graft, yet the resilient metal head remained as dependable as ever. There was something poetic about that, he thought, that what was strong enough to endure could always be rebuilt, restored, and returned to purpose.

If not for the weather, he might have finished the job before dusk. Instead, the tool would have to wait another day for its revival.

He dragged a hand through his rain-damp hair, shaking loose the lingering droplets, then hung his jacket on the hook by the door. The house felt cooler than usual. Moving into the living room, he knelt before the wood burner and reached for the first log.

A sharp ping cut through the quiet.

The sound came from his datapad resting on the table. He hadn't received a notification in over a month. Not because he was hiding, though many might assume so, but because he had withdrawn from most things after the fall of the Alliance. The young knight simply hadn't been active. Slowly, he rose and retrieved the device before settling onto the couch. With a flick of his thumb, he opened the message. His brow lifted almost immediately.

The sender read: quartermaster@order.

The High Republic had requested his presence, in person. No explanation. No details. Only that the matter was important. Urgent. The tone was firm, bordering on severe. His gaze drifted to the signature at the bottom...

Collete.

A faint smirk tugged at the corner of his mouth.

"Quartermaster of the High Republic?" he murmured to himself. "Well done, Collete."

They had last parted on bitter terms, during the darkest stretch of his life, when grief and vengeance had driven him to hunt down the pirates responsible for his family's murder. He had not been the man he was proud of then. But time, relentless as it was, had dulled the sharpest edges of that pain. If there was ever a moment to mend what had broken between them, perhaps this was it.

Even if he still harbored doubts about the High Republic.

After a long breath, and only slight hesitation, Silas typed his reply. He would meet her. On her terms.