Keter
The Renegade
Keter swirled the drink in his glass, watching the liquid spin as it was subjected to centrifugal force. The small bits of melting ice were forced up against the edges of the container, clinking slightly, the noise lost amongs the musical notes filling the air. It had been a long time since he had been in a lively cantina. Dis had it's own of course, but it was his home. No one went there that he did not know.
He had taken to the role of a house husband quite well, looking after Felicity and Celeste whilst their mother was off saving the universe. They were growing up so quickly, into such fine girls. No plans of galactic domination from them though. Not yet at least. The blond smiled and shook his head, remembering the words his wife had spoken so many years ago. They had turned out quite prophetic. Still, without the aid of Barnabus and Slevin, he never would have been able to cope. Slevin with his energy to keep the girls entertained, and Barnabus was an asset due to having been a father himself once, long ago. But they were gone now.
Like Rooks.
Keter felt a pang of loss at the thought of the Clone Commander, a man younger than him and yet so much wiser. The Kaminoans knew their trade. The clone army had been magnificent...and it had faded into nothingness. No one knew what they had done. What any of them had done. Except from him. He had started it all, and here he now sat, alone at the end. Oh, he had a family now yes. He had more than he had ever dreamed off. But everything came at a price. And he had paid the blood toll necessary for his happy ending. The problem now was...what now? His story was over, his friends dead and gone. His wife was saving the galaxy, and their daughters would soon join her. Barnabus had taken to travelling in the twilight years of his life, and Slevin was not long for this galaxy.
But what could he do with himself? He had been content, sitting on Immeria, studying anything that caught his fancy. But Feena had caught him and scolded him. He'd changed, aged prematurely. He had become a stuffy old man as Celeste had said. So his fearsome wife had kicked him out the house and ordered him to go off and have an adventure. And he had no memory of how to have one of those anymore.
And so he sat in a small bar on Nar Shadaar, and celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday alone.
He raised the glass to his lips before pausing, smiling softly. He riased it higher, as if in salute, before downing it.
To absent friends.
To Rook, Barnabus, Slevin. To Coryth, Sheena, Tahira, Zandra. To Corven and Kacius. To K-36215. To Felicity and Celeste. To his family. To Feena.
The blond felt the burn of the alcohol as it worked down his throat and waved at the barman to bring him another. He had never truly been drunk before....maybe that would count as his adventure.
He had taken to the role of a house husband quite well, looking after Felicity and Celeste whilst their mother was off saving the universe. They were growing up so quickly, into such fine girls. No plans of galactic domination from them though. Not yet at least. The blond smiled and shook his head, remembering the words his wife had spoken so many years ago. They had turned out quite prophetic. Still, without the aid of Barnabus and Slevin, he never would have been able to cope. Slevin with his energy to keep the girls entertained, and Barnabus was an asset due to having been a father himself once, long ago. But they were gone now.
Like Rooks.
Keter felt a pang of loss at the thought of the Clone Commander, a man younger than him and yet so much wiser. The Kaminoans knew their trade. The clone army had been magnificent...and it had faded into nothingness. No one knew what they had done. What any of them had done. Except from him. He had started it all, and here he now sat, alone at the end. Oh, he had a family now yes. He had more than he had ever dreamed off. But everything came at a price. And he had paid the blood toll necessary for his happy ending. The problem now was...what now? His story was over, his friends dead and gone. His wife was saving the galaxy, and their daughters would soon join her. Barnabus had taken to travelling in the twilight years of his life, and Slevin was not long for this galaxy.
But what could he do with himself? He had been content, sitting on Immeria, studying anything that caught his fancy. But Feena had caught him and scolded him. He'd changed, aged prematurely. He had become a stuffy old man as Celeste had said. So his fearsome wife had kicked him out the house and ordered him to go off and have an adventure. And he had no memory of how to have one of those anymore.
And so he sat in a small bar on Nar Shadaar, and celebrated his thirty-fifth birthday alone.
He raised the glass to his lips before pausing, smiling softly. He riased it higher, as if in salute, before downing it.
To absent friends.
To Rook, Barnabus, Slevin. To Coryth, Sheena, Tahira, Zandra. To Corven and Kacius. To K-36215. To Felicity and Celeste. To his family. To Feena.
The blond felt the burn of the alcohol as it worked down his throat and waved at the barman to bring him another. He had never truly been drunk before....maybe that would count as his adventure.