Private An Unexpected Arrival

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Azbrian, Westgard Homestead
Objective: Greet the unexpected visitor
Tag: Solo
​

The classic cold weather of Azbrian was beginning to settle over the planet in full force as New Life Day crept ever closer. The air carried that familiar sharp bite enough to sting the nose, soft enough to stir a comforting nostalgia. Frost slicked the edges of rooftops, and the smell of distant woodsmoke drifted lazily through the stillness. As always, Silas had prepared for the season months in advance, and he found himself genuinely looking forward to a few days of peace. A brief escape from the usual Jedi antics was a rare luxury, and he intended to savor every moment of it.

He had spent the last few New Life Days alone. There was no family left to celebrate with, no warm voices waiting inside a home filled with light, only the occasional gathering with friends later in the evening if their schedules aligned. Most of the time, it didn't bother him; solitude had become an old companion. Yet every now and then, a small ache surfaced, a quiet longing that someone, anyone from his family, might still be alive to share a simple meal or a laugh beside the fire. But Silas shook the feeling off with practiced ease. Melancholy wouldn't help anything. Better to focus on what he did have: a few drinks waiting in the cupboard, a stack of old holofilms he hadn't watched in years, and the promise of a few peaceful nights with no missions to pull him away.

Standing beside the door, Silas plucked his warm coat from the hook and slipped it on, zipping it closed with a casual tug. The moment he stepped outside, a gentle sprinkle of snow drifted lazily from the sky, settling atop the thick white blanket that had swallowed the normally green fields of Azbrian. It had looked like this for days, quiet, pristine, untouched, as if the world had no other inhabitants other than himself. Out of caution, and because the temperature was still steadily dropping, the young Jedi decided it was best to cut a few more logs for the woodburner in the living room. Extra preparation never hurt, especially on a world where winter liked to linger longer than anyone expected.

He stomped across the crisp snow to the chopping station, where a small pile of logs waited and an axe stood buried in one like a marker. Wrapping his gloved fingers around the handle, he gave it a firm tug, freeing it from the wood with a satisfying crack. He placed a fresh log onto the stump, glanced briefly across the silent field, then took in a slow breath. The axe rose, then fell cleanly, splitting the wood into two neat halves. He moved through the next logs with efficient rhythm, lift, strike, split. The work warmed his muscles and gave his mind something simple to settle into.

But halfway through the third log, he paused.

A low rumble trembled through the still air, so faint at first that he almost mistook it for distant thunder. Then it grew, steady, mechanical, unmistakably the hum of engines cutting through the cold. Silas straightened, brows narrowing as he turned his head toward the sound.

A shuttle.

Snowflakes brushed his cheeks as he stepped away from the chopping block, squinting through the curtain of white. Soon, the silhouette of a small shuttle emerged on the horizon, descending in a controlled arc directly toward his homestead.

Whoever it was, he certainly wasn't expecting them.

To be continued...​

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Azbrian, Westgard Homestead
Objective: Greet the unexpected visitor
Tag: Solo
​

Silas wedged his axe into one of the nearby logs, the metal biting cleanly into the frozen wood. He exhaled a cloud of steam and trudged across the snow toward the shuttle descending from the pale sky. Its engines stirred up spirals of untouched snow, but he didn't bother reaching for a weapon. If they'd come with hostile intentions, they would have fired long before touching down, and the presence he felt inside the ship only confirmed his suspicions.

Familiar. Warm. Irritatingly recognizable.

And beside it, another presence, far weaker, flickering with uncertainty and something like fear. Not trained. Not dangerous. But loud enough in the Force to stand out. By the time the vessel settled, Silas had stopped a few feet away, hands stuffed into his coat pockets, waiting for the ramp to lower. For several long seconds nothing happened. The wind picked up, tugging at his hair, rustling the trees behind him.

Then a silhouette emerged at last.

A woman strolled down the ramp halfway and paused, smirking at him with a look he knew all too well."Long time no see, Westgard. I bet you weren't expecting to see my pretty face again so soon, were you?" Imogen Solace leaned lazily against the hull, arms folding with that infuriating confidence she carried like perfume.

"Well, I was hoping not to," Silas replied dryly, "but I guess you forced my hand."

They walked toward each other and shared a brief, tight hug, warm enough to acknowledge old familiarity, short enough to avoid acknowledging anything more. Pulling back, Silas lifted a brow. "I see you remembered where I live after all this time…"

Imogen gave a dramatic sigh and a wink. "After the one night we had? Please. Harder to forget than you think."

Silas snorted and rolled his eyes. "Alright, Solace. Fun as it is to watch you inflate your ego, I'm guessing you're not here for a repeat performance. Something urgent's going on."

"Always so serious," she teased, reaching out to harmlessly flick the tip of his nose before turning and sauntering back toward the ramp. "But you're right. There's something I need you to look after while I figure out what to do with it."

"It depends on what it is," Silas started, "if it's a—"

A sharp protest echoed from inside the ship, cutting him off. Before he could react, Imogen reappeared, nudging a scruffy-looking kid in front of her with a firm grip on the back of his collar. The boy twisted and grunted, glaring up at her.

"Get off me!"

Imogen didn't even flinch. Instead, she shoved him lightly forward, planting him in the snow between her and Silas. "I'm sure you'll have the experience to look after this brat," she said with a raised brow, "right?"

To be continued...​

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Azbrian, Westgard Homestead
Objective: Greet the unexpected visitor
Tag: Solo
​

Looking from the kid back to Imogen, Silas seemed slightly taken aback by what she'd just suggested. "So, you're asking me to look after a random kid you found where?" he asked, leveling a curious, almost accusing stare at her.

"On Denon. It's a long story, but… you've had experience with his background. Trust me," she said.

Silas raised an eyebrow at the kid. Well, the boy certainly wasn't from a Jedi background. Remove that, and there was only one other possibility: the criminal underworld.

He took a slow breath and studied the kid more closely. Fifteen, maybe. About the same age Silas had been when he was trapped in that life. Imogen wasn't wrong, he understood this world better than he cared to admit. But that didn't mean he was eager to wade back into it. He'd left that life behind long ago. He had no intention of revisiting it.

Still… there was a kid standing in front of him who needed a way out.

And if that wasn't reason enough to override his reservations, nothing would be. "Fine. I'll take him," he said with a resigned sigh. "Go grab your stuff from the ship, kid."

The boy hesitated, grumbling as he started up the ramp. "I'm not a kid, by the way…"

"You are," Silas and Imogen said in unison, before the boy disappeared aboard.

Imogen exhaled, some of the confidence she usually carried slipping away. "He's a good kid at heart. Confident. But from the start, he's been dealt a bad hand." Her voice softened. "He was part of a high-profile gang I infiltrated while undercover. Crime is all he's ever known. Theft, assaults, pretty much everything you can imagine."

Silas frowned but stayed silent.

"When I first met him, I promised myself I'd give him a real chance someday," she continued. "That chance came when the Denon authorities raided the safehouse and arrested him and the others. With the evidence they had, he would've been sent away for years. I convinced them to let him go with me instead." She glanced toward the ramp. "He's still furious that I lied about who I was. So… it's not exactly wise for me to keep him close right now."

"I can imagine," Silas said, giving her a small nod. "But you did the right thing. He deserves a chance at life."

"Leave it to me, I'll see what I can do"

To be continued...​

​

 

[Silas Westgard]

Location: Azbrian, Westgard Homestead
Objective: Greet the unexpected visitor
Tag: Solo / Imogen Solace
​

Imogen gave him a thankful smile and stepped forward, wrapping her arms around him once more in a grateful hug. "Thank you for doing this," she whispered, lingering in his embrace just a moment longer than necessary. "It's only a week, but it'll make a world of difference."

She pulled away slowly, reluctant, and Silas met her gaze. He let out a quiet sigh, a small, resigned smile tugging at his lips. "If that's what it takes to give the kid a chance," he said, "then I'm more than happy to do it."

His eyes stayed on hers a beat too long, as if there were something else he wanted to say but hadn't quite found the courage for yet.

After a moment, he cleared his throat.

"I don't… I don't suppose you'd want to stay for some New Life Day dinner when you come back?" Silas asked, his tone carefully casual, though the hesitation gave him away.

Imogen let out a soft chuckle, considering it for a few seconds. "I'll think about it," she said at first, offering a small shrug. Then she smiled. "But chances are, yes. As long as you don't give me food poisoning."

She nudged him playfully, and Silas huffed out a laugh, relief evident in his expression. "You're a funny dipshit, you know that?" he said, half joking, half exhaling the tension he hadn't realized he was holding.

Did he just ask her out on a date? Maybe. After all, it was just a festive dinner… wasn't it?

A few moments later, the kid came stomping down the ramp without a word, boots heavy against the metal as he headed straight for the house. He didn't spare Imogen a glance. Whatever he had to say, he clearly didn't want to say it to the liar or the person he believed her to be. Imogen watched him go, then looked back at Silas. "I won't say much else to him," she said quietly as she turned toward the ramp. "He needs some time away from me."

Silas nodded in agreement, his gaze shifting between her and the retreating boy. "Hm. It appears so."

There was a brief pause before he added, "Also… you never told me his name."

Imogen smirked at that, already halfway up the ramp "I'll let you figure that out yourself," she called back over her shoulder. "It'll give you an excuse to talk to him."

She gave a small, parting wave. "See you soon, Westgard."

To be continued​