Evacuation of Sulon

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Is this it then?

He let the question hang in the air. Whether it was because he didn't know the answer or because the answer he had was an unfortunate one, it was hard to tell.

The First Order was a shadow hanging in the low light of a once bright sun. Growing as the sunset approached, he couldn't help but feel like everything was at stake - and just along the horizon.

He shook his head as he set the remainder of the sandwich down on the countertop. Approaching Cera, he offered her a warm smile, investigating her hair line with a tend touch. There wasn’t anything on this homestead worth dying for. Only people, people like her.

“I don't know.” He offered with a searching gaze. “I've been eyeing some real estate…far away from here. I've even got a good deal on some roofing, just have to say the word.”

While it may have not been true regarding the real estate, he had been eyeing some energy efficient roofing tile. For the homestead, but it would do elsewhere. They had a choice to make.

Stay and defend the home that they had put love and time into. Or leave and find a new world, somewhere where they could build a home together.

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"] [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The galaxy was a changing place. But it wasn’t one that Coren was going to let change without his say so. The Jedi Master had heard the calls from Sulon and had dispatched his personal squadron and members of the Alliance Special Operations teams to the world. Skirting around the First Order wasn’t going to be easy, but it was needed. The shuttles needed to get to the world. The Alliance E-Wing, painted white and gold, was leading two flights, one of X- and one of E-Wings to the surface. The A-Wings from Tiburon Squadron were out in the local space still, fighting back at the First Order TIE fighters coming in.

On the world, the Sheriff of Sulon was waiting and Coren Starchaser was pushing his E-Wing ahead of the shuttles. The pair of J1 shuttles were planning to touch down and unload their soldiers. Coren had the E-Wing circling.

Sending a message was the next step. “Sionoma, got you a care package. Two shuttles of Alliance troops to bolster your forces. Fighters here for your air support. Just call on me if you need a strike anywhere, if not we’ll do our best to mess with their advance.” Simple and to the point.

Maybe he and Gabriel didn’t see eye-to-eye very often in the past, but the elder Marshal was one of Coren’s Jedi, and he was going to defend the man.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]
[member="Cerusia Shamalain"]

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

It had taken time ... years, really, for Cera to have a grasp of the events circulating the galaxy. She'd never had any personal interaction with the First Order so the history for her wasn't there. What opinion of them had been formed based off the GNN coverage and the war stories brought home by Gabriel, Stali, Raziel, and others that visited the homestead. She knew an insurrection of the FO would mean nothing but slaughter and likely imprisonment or enslavement. She also knew, without any hint of a doubt, that they could not possibly defend Sullust and the moon from their vast empire.

It would have been a suicide mission and she would have willingly joined Gabriel on it if that had been his intention.

For him, home was his people. For her, home was Gabe.

Worry visibly knit into her brow and settled into her eyes, lips paling as they pressed against one another in thought. Was dying for this place what she really wanted? No, but a fresh start and a new home they could find and make together - she wanted that.

Cera nodded, "I'll get the ship ready," and then leaned to give the man a kiss, "Happy Birthday ..." Just in case.

Just in case.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Those eyes of warmth, like a burning sun hidden beneath the tempering veil of fuschine clouds, spoke of a certain acceptance. But all he could see was the way they shined beneath a cowl, the way the floor boards hardly moaned beneath her weight as she stepped through the shop on that swamp world. Swept away by a storm, not unlike what not descended upon them, he found himself missing the days they had spent discovering one another. Not because he felt this was somehow less, but simply for the lack of certainty in inclement weather. A storm brought excitement and uncertainty, a looming shadow only brought concern. But maybe, somewhere in the future, a chance to rebuild - to rediscover each other, all over again.

"Ok." He responded with a smile, offering her a smaller kiss in rebuttal, before finding his way back to the porch. He clicked on the microphone, extending as a small stylus from his ear, as he lifted another sandwich to his mouth. Even as he prepared his response, he thought on the maelstrom of his and Coren's past. It wasn't an easy topic, one that felt more like the distant annals of trials - a time where Gabe felt utterly compelled to prove himself. And yet, like all memories, the wounds felt so far away - muffled by a thick coat of dust that had accumulated in the absence of shared events.

::10-4. We appreciate it. We've employed bafflers for the homestead but I suspect that strike might be needed either way. We'll keep in touch.::

These sort of soldiers always had a way of getting around even the most clever of countermeasures. And as much as he would mourn this home, he wouldn't defend it when his time could spent on those he cared about. "Murr...Opi." He looked to his left has he threw the phantom cloak over his shoulder, withdrawing a rocket launcher from the storage case - the foam clung to the edges and he struggled, despite his attempt at machismo, to get it free. "Hold...hold on." He stuffed the foam back in and huffed with a sigh of relief. Slinging the item over his shoulder, he pointed to the wrought iron table next to him.

"Grab a sandwich and, after you digest, find the shuttles and get off this planet." He held up his hand as Opi stepped forward. "Nope. Can't hear you." Plugging his ear in expectation of her rebellion, he stepped off the porch and the cloak activated. There were fighters above and without a proper distraction, the rescue team would never get off planet unmolested. And he felt like making these people fight for it. One last time.

He tapped the haunch of his thigh and whistled, the ballistic boxes rattled as the defense drone whirled out and skipped along in his wake. "Sapper, employ overbearing mother protocol." He lifted his hand, making a circling gesture, as the drone took to flight overhead. He took a knee in the field of wheat and leveled the weapon, waiting for his opportune time. He opened his communications to Alliance and Baron's Hed abodes.

::Alliance, this is Marshal Sionoma. Land all rescue crafts at the Southern Edge of the Katarn Homestead property. All still contained within Baron's Hed, please use the mandatory geothermal duct escape routes. We have shuttles, but time is of the essence. Enemy fighters will be in the city proper within one minute.::

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

To say they hadn't prepared for this day would have been a lie. There was a well-configured plan in place that had been practiced and memorized by all those that called this place home. Though she knew the steps, Cera had not quite expected to have the homestead so ... empty for the occasion.

In a way it made the process much quicker. There were less people to account for, less things needing collected and packed. The Edens were not a family of excess, so mostly when they traveled they had what they needed. Cera made the rounds through their rooms, picking up items and keepsakes that were kept here for the times that they visited. The odd clothing leftovers, little knick-knacks that might be missed should this home come to ruination. It didn't take long and she left the case by the side exit before making for her and Gabe's bedroom.

She scoured the closets and the dresser drawers, pulling all manner of wardrobe out to pack away as neatly and efficiently as possible. Some things would remain behind - that old pair of boots Gabe just couldn't seem to give up. The pair that was falling apart at the seams and had gone through two re-soles and four sets of laces. There were some old shirts and pants of a similar nature, she made sure not to leave anything she recalled him having any particularly strong sentimental value towards.

This was the shirt I was wearing when you clawed me on the beach.

A terse sigh escaped her lips as she folded that one and pressed it into the suitcase.

Next were the personal belongings; books, holocrons, datacrons, artifacts, projects from Dissero for the Shoppes. Her Alethiometer was returned to its new protective case and place inside the wooden chest in the corner. Whatever else of value, hers or his, found its way packed into the chest as well.

"Opi," Cera garnered the attention of the wookie as the nanny finished preparations for Gabe, "can you take these out to the ship?"

Opi gave a somber response over her half-eaten sandwich and dutifully picked up the cases to take them out to the ship.

Now down to the basement to pack up the workshop and the wine collection. Gabe could build a new workshop wherever it was they ended up, but she wondered if he could replicate these little side projects that kept him busy when he needed to think. She carefully packed what she could find away, trying to pick and choose the things that seemed to be the most essential to his craft. The blodwyne crates were packed easily enough, the meade went next. No sense in leaving the result of hard work behind.

The medical lab would simply have to remain. Cera packed up essentials for potential injuries or emergencies, but her ship didn't have an infirmary. Anything worse than what she could treat herself would have to be treated at a hospital regardless. The communications lab would have its databanks transferred to a datacron and wiped before being shut down. Any further communication would have to be registered through their ship or Gabe's private channels. The gym and armory would be left to Gabe's devices - he would take what he needed.

As for the nursery and the apiary? They were now on their own. Time and effort had been made to establish more nurseries beyond the one here on Sulon, of that she knew. It was a shame to leave them behind, but there was no way to quickly manage such a monumental task as uprooting over 100 mature trees.

Cera began the task of shuttling cases and crates out to the ship.

The J-Type Apailana Class Elite Transport sat gleaming under the afternoon sun. Soon it would be ready to ferry herself and Gabe away from the coming storm.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The rocket did an odd thing as it ejected from the tube. Like it wasn't sure it needed to take off, it sort of just plopped out and for a second, Gabe wasn't sure it would leave the ground. But the thrusts kicked on, spitting a flame of orange and blue, as the fins ejected from the fuselage and the shaft shot off into the distance with an enthusiastic twirl and twist. It was a one round go so when it left the gun, Gabe stood up and watched - tossing the thing away. His eyes weren't as good as they used to be but he didn't need them, not when the computing systems did the aiming for him.

A starfighter recoiled in the upper atmosphere after a long pause, feeling the effects of the rocket as it lodged itself in the body of the ship and gave a moment of breath before igniting. Flames and sound kicked off in the distance, sending the ship spiraling into the fighter next to it. It was a ways off but the Marshal was sure that it landed towards the outskirts of Baron's Hed. He whistled as the cloak concealed his presence, making the same gesture to the drone. "Defiant daughter, go. Priority: Baron's Hed." It was an evasive scouting protocol, meant for watching and avoiding damage.

The drone whirled off as Gatling rifle blasts fired into the sky from Baron's Hed. A thump thump thump popped off within the small town, energy arcs aiming toward Sullust. But they hit against the shadows that once danced across wheat, giving these incoming ships their moneys worth. Sure, the invaders enjoyed the prospect of often conquering land, being welcomed with open arms, and restoring order. But this place had order, it had peace, and it wanted nothing of the black and reds. So they'd fight and despite what Gabe could do to call them back, bartering only came in the form of goods and commerce.

There was no compromise for life and livelihood.

He fired up the imagery on his bracer and watched beneath the veil of his phantom cloak. Old Beret sat on his roof, a smile on his face as he mounted a turret that was three times his size. In the background, a tie fighter sizzled with a rutted 200 foot dirt wake behind it. Gabe caught a glimpse of Elzeban, rummaging through her pottery as if nothing was happening at all - he knew she wouldn't leave, she had nowhere else to go. He mourned the prospect of losing her banter but knew, whoever might find her, that she wouldn't go quietly.

Cutting off the imagery for the time being, he smiled as he walked back towards the homestead. They didn't have long now, the bafflers wouldn't hold up forever.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

She was in the kitchen when he returned, sitting in silence in her usual place, a mug of steaming tea cupped between her hands.

Of all the years spent here it was difficult to say if she would truly miss the place. Cerusia wasn't sure she knew what it felt like ... nostalgia of a home. Somewhere in the other half of her soul all the memories of a former life filtered through the lense of bitter sweet longing. Yet in the here and now she felt none of that. Day in and out the struggles of living in the moment were as present as the fleeting shadow of nightime - cropping up in the cyclical nature of moon circling planet circling sun.

The nature of her life was detached. Somehow the feeling of ownership to these memories was still so hard to capture.

Like writing words over the faded imprint of a previous novel.

Opi returned, declaring with a low rumble that the ship was packed and that she was off.

Cera looked up, unsmiling, and nodded, "Where will you go?"

The struggles of a half-life weren't the only challenge she still faced - learning the language of the wookiee nanny was still a work in progress. From what she could tell, Opi had declared that she and Momurr would be joining Avalore in another garden. Another home away from home, one of many the Master Healer now kept.

Another nod, a faint smile of hope for the Nanny and Gardener surfaced, "Be well, Opi."

It was nice to know you for a time.

With anyone else in the household Opi would have moved forward for a hug, but Cerusia had presented herself as unreceptive to such gestures, opting to keep a pronounced physical distance from most others aside from Gabe. Opi crooned a sorrowful goodbye and made her leave.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

You'll have to find your way, now.

Turrets gleamed in the distance, like stars a million miles away. The turrets from Baron's Hed thumped in steady rhythm, igniting starfighters in the sky. It wasn't the full front of the attacking force because, as far as the Marshal could wager, they hadn't really known this moon held much more than the few derelict farms and stubborn men. Codgers and old monuments, unwilling to abandon their home. Sullust was more important as the former capital of the Galactic Alliance. This stood as a gesture to a dead resistance, reminding them that old statues eventually fall apart.

He lifted his gaze towards the lower canopy, brown eyes lit with the flight of fireflies and confused bees. The queen sat in his hand, moving about and threatening to plunge her stinger into his exposed palm. She was irritated and her brood were as well, it couldn't be helped. Their home was being taken away. Gabe could relate.

I know. I know.

He couldn't do anything about it. They had planned for this but the hive had resisted, not wanting to move out beyond their five mile radius of foraging. But they would need to find new sources of nectar, the ankarres could not remain. It would either find this fate from a hateful hand, or be twisted towards malevolent purposes. And that couldn't be allowed.

Take care. Fly south.

She stabbed her barb into his palm as a parting gift, bringing him to wince before flinging her upward. The hive began to gorge, perceiving the smoke from nearby fire as something dangerous and harmful. And it was, this fire would burn from tree line to tree line. There would be nothing left from this place but the seedlings and rooted cuttings, pulled from the forest and placed in buckets of earth. Kicking on the hover cart, he navigated the growing tunnels of smoke as he moved out into the field just beyond the grove.

This would attract some attention, their time was up.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Don't you dare leave him.

Don't you dare even think of it.

You bring him to me, Gabriel Sionoma.

You bring him to me in one piece and with his full memory.

The parting words of a worried and irate Master Healer Avalore Eden. Cerusia had to hand it to the woman, for as unassuming as she was the Jedi packed a mean, stern mother punch. She'd come to respect and like her over the years, forming a tethered kinship with her that had seen some share of fraying at the start. Avalore and Gabe were close. Very close. Siblings in one another's eyes. They told each other everything, so far as she knew, and she admitted to some deep-seeded jealousy there during her first year of living at the homestead.

Truth be told, she rather hated Avalore for a time and - even now - there were still moments of envy where the Healer was concerned. For the most part she'd grown out of this, took control of those negative emotions that came so easily. Developed a means of instilling patience and understanding with the help of Gabe. It took time enough to come to terms with his friendship with Avalore, but now she found she rather cherished it. Her jealousy had been wholly unfounded.

Cerusia sighed as she finalized the shut-down procedure for the protocol droid known as Dick. There was no certain terms she was willing to yield a journey across the stars with him actively grating on her nerves. He would travel in his crate and he would do it in silence.

Dick was the last thing added to the waiting ship ... or so she thought.

Following the pull of Gabe's presence she found herself striding out through the gardens and following the path that lead to the nursery. Cera didn't make it far before the scent of fire and the plumes of dark smoke forced her gait to a stop. Shawl pulled securely over her head, the woman peered through the scoured daylight at the scene and felt her insides churn uncomfortably.

She didn't know what the holocaust of peace really felt like until now. A part of her soul could feel the flames despite the distance of them from her body.

Gabe appeared on the trail heading her way with the hovercart, saplings carefully stowed in buckets. They'd gone over the plan a hundred times at least, but it still brought a pang of guilt to her chest seeing them now under the grave expression of the Sheriff.

[...ready.] She signed to him across the open field, her hands drifting from the unspoken words with a hopelessness she couldn't well define for them.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

The forest took to life in the form of smoke and fire. What once was a quiet and humble entity, the heat had changed everything. The crackling of wood, the dispersal of embers, the dancing shadows and glow of orange. It wasn't what he had wanted and despite what necessity he felt for the act, he couldn't overcome the sense of loss. They had put everything into Sulon, knowing full well that at any moment, it could be stripped away. Better us to do it than them. Those were the words he repeated to himself, repeated to Cera and Ava, and then repeated to himself once more.

He was likely in need of the most convincing.

The hover cart came out of the forest line lazily, bouncing along as the Sheriff pushed it with something far removed from zeal. It was a thing that needed doing and he was sure that they could start again. But any attempt to assuage the onset of loss and mourning, it was strengthened further by Cera leaving the house.

That meant the acts were done. Like the last seeds of a dying tree, they would all disperse in the ash and wind. Maybe they'd find purchase in fertile ground, maybe they'd land upon barren rock - never to bloom again. Losing this homestead, tearing down the foundation that had formed in his path of redemption, it felt like losing a friend. It felt like his heart was breaking.

It wasn't a question that she signed, though he took it for that. Clicking on the brakes of the cart, the sputtering engine died back to a lull and was overtaken by turret shots in the distance. They were steady and persistent once. Now they were rare and infrequent, like the acoustic erosion from a dying glacier. He could feel each shot thud in his chest, echoing across the sleepy hills and valleys, as he turned to look one last time towards Baron's Hed.

"I told myself the anticipation would be worse than the event..." He found it comforting to know that when it happened, it wouldn't be so hard. "I think that was a lie. I'm not sure I would have ever been ready." His sons were raised here. He had resolved himself to growing old with Cera on this footprint. And in the back of his mind, the shadow of this certainty always stood so distant. He was sure he could keep it away. Certain of it, in fact. "I guess we should go, they're waiting for us." He clicked on the hover cart and stood ready to walk with her.

He was happy she was here with him. He wouldn't have made it alone.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Their steps weren't as hurried as you might come to expect from two people fleeing the arrival of an invasion force. It was a slow gait that carried them across the path of their home to the ship waiting on the other side, engines rumbling and expectant. Each step seemed to hold the wait of regret and the viscosity of memory.

Cera didn't look back. Not once. The only thing she had now to look back for was walking right beside her.


The ship was no stealth escort nor was it built for battle. It had no offensive capabilities to speak of, but it could protect and defend in many other unique ways. It was an escape made with care under the escort of Alliance fighters. It was one of the longest hours of her life. By the time they were gone there was only one question left to answer.

Where would they go next?

It wasn't part of the plan. Had they overlooked it? Had they discussed it? The Edens had their other homes - old safe havens from their days as Jedi. Gabe and her? They didn't have such luxuries. Perhaps they thought they might return to the Swamp, to the store and the quietude of Annaj, but Annaj was in a direction that put them near the heart of those now usurping their current home.

The lines of hyperspace streaked the viewports on all sides, the silence of space broken only by the constant rumble of the ship's engines. Cerusia had left the bridge of her ship, once their safety was assured, to take stock of their belongings now packed away in the cargo area. They didn't travel often, not like Avalore or Stali or Jacen. Not even like the Eden children, who so loved to venture across the stars that they could hardly be considered residents of the Homestead for some time now. The ship wasn't set up like the homestead had been. Their things weren't allotted into their places for easy retrieval. She'd packed the ship with a plan and purpose in mind, making the rations and food and necessities the easiest to reach and unpack, so that is what she did.

In little time a pot of tea was steeping while she unpacked in the kitchenette. No telling how long this journey would be, might as well be prepared for the long haul.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He was caught between the desire to plan pragmatically and the desire to live flexibly, untethered from any concrete back up plan in the event that things went South. The Alliance abandoned Sullust as their capital, preceding to fall from the universal war theater, effectively opening up their home to unabated conquering by the enemy - it was a string of events that were difficult to predict. It was only in the final realization of what would invariably happen, the eventual taking of their home, that they could form anything resembling a plan.

But Gabe had left things to Cera when it came to the ship and rations. He had focused on the final stand, on shoring up defenses. Anything to make their enemy think twice, if only for a fleeting moment, on the diminishing returns of taking a barren moon. He was confident that they had served as a thorn in the side, from an otherwise wilted vine, but not much beyond it.

He found comfort in that idea.

Planets and stars seemed simultaneously small and infinite as they dragged like vibrant white streaks across the viewport. He furrowed his brow as each one passed, standing in silence, as he played a game. For each one, he tried his hand at guessing the system or dominant planets - difficulty only furthered enhanced with the knowledge that they didn't know where they were going. The nav system had plotted a safe route but one without defined limits, bouncing from place to next on end. Like a fancy floor cleaning bot that was intent on avoiding the walls.

But the walls were the domains of various super powers, fighting for the constant imbalance of power.

As he moved into where the unpacking of the kitchenette was taking place, he thought on those that had departed separate from them. The Alliance was a ghost of their former self, but they helped when it mattered. Better late than never, he decided. And while he was still wearing his armor, it wasn't being worn particularly well. The metal torso plates, attached to the hermetic under suit, was unzipped and pulled down to his belt line. The arms were wrapped around his waist like he was a greased up mechanic or a hiker that had dressed improperly and was having to make due.

Scratching the scars left by her nails, across his chest and hidden beneath a simple shirt, he watched her work with a thoughtful gaze.

"This ship have a s-s..." He paused as he wrinkled his nose and squinted, trying his best to hold in a sneeze. Or maybe push it along. Didn't really matter what he did, a sneeze did what it wanted to. And shaking his head when it didn't arrive, he cleared his throat unvictorious. "Either the smoke or the hay after the rocket. I could use a shower to wash it down."

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

The motion of his hand at his chest was rarely ever missed. It was one he made out of ... Cera wasn't entirely sure. One day she might ask him, but mostly she resolved to ignore it when she saw it. She didn't see it this time, as busy as she was stocking the cupboards with ration packs and ingredients.

She paused at the sound of his voice, turning to look back over her shoulder with some curiosity. Then a nod.

"Yes," violet eyes glanced around the kitchen and the lavish luxury within which they traveled. The woman managed a faint smile, "don't you remember?"

This was the ship they fled Kuat on, the one that brought them here to the Homestead, to her new life. Brought her home with him. Cera turned to face him fully, brow knit with the lingering concern she had for him. With a gentle sigh, she endeavored to remind him and lead him from the kitchen to the master suite.

"Remember now?"

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He didn't have a chance to say no. Or maybe he just didn't feel the need. A slip in his recollection, nothing more. He could recall the wedding, the way they had run, but the in between seemed like a fluttering of the page - a simple act that got them from that life to this one.

He'd recall it better now, he was sure of it.

Following her, he looked through the lacquer, alabaster and maroon, as the hall was trimmed in a way to denote direction. He took it all in as if it was his first time. Each room had a sliding door, the LED lamp above was off to indicate that it currently was without staff or not in use. A medical facility, a lounge.

"It's a nice ship." He admitted as he sat down on the bed after entering the master bedroom, failing to respond to her question. The bed felt nice. He needed to be careful, he might not get back up. Looking towards the viewscreen, a sideways view of the hyperspace tunnel was provided in the form of streaming white lights and specks of stars and planets. "Everything works as it should." There was nothing to fix.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

The same thought did not cross her mind. Like as she did to think she knew the man well, she still couldn't read his mind. Nor did she know her way through it. Perhaps her intuition had been kept with her other self as well as her empathy. Quiet steps brought her to stand before where he sat on the bed, idle hands turning to a task they'd come to claim as their own over the years. She took up the braids of grey and white and brown, unknotting the tie and gently pulling them loose.

"I know you loved the Homestead," her voice, like always, was quiet, "you made it your own. But buildings and trees and things can be remade. People can't."

Her fingers unwound the braid along the top of his crown, carefully pulling free the tangles.

"Your family is safe, somewhere else in the stars, and we can find another place to make your own."

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

[SIZE=11pt]He let out a heavy breath, as if he had been holding it for an eternity. Pressing his head against her torso, he let her hands do the work as he felt relief wash over him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]No matter how many times she did it, he couldn't escape the comforting feeling of rain against the tin roof of a lodge. And the light of lightning, overcoming the ambience of a clouded moon. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Our own…” He replied, muffled. Brown eyes lifted as he looked up to her. “A place to make [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]our[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] own.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]It was a small word but it felt important.[/SIZE]

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Our own.

Strange to think that up until now, their lives may have been two separate lines running parallel at such an angle that it took years for them to finally, truly meet. That they might finally build something together that would be theirs and no one else's. She might have finally found the right door to open to claim a life all her own.

To depart from the shadowed path that had been left behind. Leaving the rest of her former self in that shadow where she'd spent so long searching out a path that was never hers to find.

She smiled over the bitter resentment muddling her broken soul and felt, somehow, for the first time like she was ready to shed the weight of her anger and pain and regret.

That wasn't her life. Not anymore.

Delicate hands gently combed the last of his braids free and left his hair, lifting to silently sign back to him over his upturned gaze, [our own.]

For however long that might be.

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

He felt stress roll off his back as the final bits of his braids were undone, like she was undoing the man himself. He watched as her hand moved from right to left, cupped thump facing her chest and ending with the butt of her hand against the other side. Then the tent of her palm, forming a pyramid with her thumb pressed against the center of her chest.

A smile ghosted across his lips as he stood. The sort of smile that could be seen in his eyes, even if he was tired. He was thankful for her ability to speak, the sonorous yet quiet sounds that seemed to barely utter and cut straight to his core. But there was something special about their old ways of communication, or even the lack of it. In having to interpret one another, in him having to figure out what those eyes were saying - below a frustrated or lofted brow. And now, all he could see reflected back in the vibrant orbs of orchids - lit occasionally by a passing star - was home.

Leaning forward, he placed a gentle kiss against her lips before quickly retracting. Pinching the bridge of his nose, he stepped to the side and took a deep and frustrated breath. "Sneeze wont come out..." He laughed, somewhere between amused and flabbergasted, as he shook his head. "Smoke and wheat...I'm going to go take a shower."

Pulling off his tunic, he made his way to the bathroom as he slowly unraveled the remains of the armor.

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

Undone and unraveled.

A state within which she enjoyed Gabriel Sionoma the most. A silent gaze watched him back away from the kiss and whether or not a sneeze was the actual cause of his distress she couldn't say. It was entirely possible it was something as simple as a sneeze. It was also possible that he was hurting more than he let on about the loss of the Homestead. Either way, it was his distress to tackle.

A shower would fix the former, and only time would fix the latter. Cera's gaze followed him as he retreated to the fresher before casting about the master suite. It was barren yet, harboring nothing but short memories of that escape from Kuat. That would need to change. For all she knew, this would be their home for the next several months ... if not longer. Turning from the empty husk of a home Cera padded out of the room and down the hall, back to the cargo area where she collected the trunk of their belongings and the other with their clothes.

While Gabe washed the remnants of Sulon from himself she restored them to the shelves and tables and drawers and closet. Not everything, of course, but some things. Enough to make a difference in the feel of the room. A bit of warmth and hope for him to return to after he'd cleaned off the emotional detritus of their most recent escape. Something she began to feel was not such a bad idea.

So after depositing her own clothes on the bed, she invited herself in to join him.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

After removing himself from all his current worldly possessions, the former Sheriff of Sulon found himself in the master bathroom. He decided it was a nice place to clean up in but if he had had the opportunity, he was sure that he could have done a better job. The floor wasn't even warmed, which would have been easy with modern technology. Even old technology had a system for running warm water beneath the plates to keep the tiling warm, through vinyl tubing.

It was rookie stuff.

But the setup was something he appreciated. A multiple basin sink stood as the center point and there were separate bathing areas. One was a luxury brass bath with what he could only assume were nozzles, for some sort of jet bath for jacuzzi lounging. It was a bit too posh for him but luckily, there was a stand up shower to the right. Half height frosted glass separated the sink area from an open shower, lined with smoothed cobble stone and a shower head with adjustable pressure.

Seemed like a dangerous idea, considering the fact that water was precious in space. But he respected the gall of it. And the stones looked nice.

Taking a few moments to inspect himself in the mirror, he got the odd impression that he was there behind the eyes - but maybe the body wasn't actually his. Sure, he had lived in it for all his life but that hadn't been all that long. It was a cloned figure, formed in perfect replication of the original body. Scars and marks that were mostly Reverance, though he had added a few of his own. Many of which were mended by Ava.

Maybe it wasn't his body at first but he had made it his own, force willing.

Opening up the frosted glass door, he padded in and set the shower to an appropriate pressure. Deciding that wasn't enough, he set it to something respectable and potentially wasteful. Because he had just burned his forest down and abandoned his home. And he needed to find pleasure in something.