It's Been So Long

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

The party was over.

He wasn't sure if it had been a success, he wasn't sure if Vanir would succeed, he wasn't sure of a lot of things. The false confidence that he had worn throughout the event was gone, the smug smile had disappeared and the booming overtones of future success had wisped away from his voice almost as soon as he had turned the corner out of the Casino. Back was that odd disheveled look, that appearance of gravity falling on his extra hard.

He still sat up straight, was still well groomed and in a finely tailored suite.

Yet something about him, something told of loss, of regret, of guilt untold.

Had no one ever met Alric Kuhn before, and had they seen him in this state they would have said someone had taken a homeless man and dressed him in finery. It was oddly off putting, and so unlike the former Titan of Industries that one had to question whether or not it was the same man at all. Yet here he was, doing what he would have done all those years ago.

Alric sat inside of her ship, waiting on one of the acceleration couches as though he owned the piece of furniture. His head was tilted back to lean against the plush leather backing and his arms were spread out as though he were in a state of trying to force himself to relax. Tension clung within his chest, his muscles were taught and his body seemed on the edge.

Then he heard it, the sound of hydraulics as the ramp opened.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

The party was over.

She wasn’t sure how many hands she shook that night, how many cordial greetings and business dealings, but she’d done it. What manner of profit Arceneau Trade Company and its subsidiaries would grow from seed collected this night was too early to tell; but for those who knew her well, that keen business sense would likely show fruit in time. Danger wasn’t the sort for a quick buck, she went long term. In it for the long haul. It was those trusted investments that were nurtured over time that would bloom under her care.

Her ability to turn a profit was undeniable; her personal life, well.. figured one had to trade one pro for a con. Momma once told her that the decisions a woman makes make the woman. Well, the decisions in her life had brought her here; a trade empire anyone would envy at the cost of something far more dear.

Low murmurs between Aeri and Danger would announce their arrival; they were discussing scheduling a meeting with Sempra the Hutt.

“Next week will be fine,” Danger would sigh out with weariness, stepping inside the sanctuary of her ship. The mask fell and in its place would settle one of weariness. A heavy weight would press upon her shoulders, and with it came the jumbled thoughts and emotions she’d been fighting to keep penned inside.

Alric was back. From where she had no clue. It wasn’t of her concern, not anymore to say the least; they had parted ways and to each their own. Their paths did not cross at the gala, and she was thankful for it. Few were the times where Danger would wonder if she could maintain her air of cordiality. That announcement had been one of them.

“I need the status reports of MaraTibX… what damages any of the production facilities may have occurred. ” A pause then another thought, “Contact Eckard, I want to -” Danger’s words were cut off as Aeri would stiffen. Confusion would mar Danger’s face a few seconds. Out of concern, she gave an incline of her head, watching the woman as she asked “What’s wrong?”

Lavender eyes went swiveling to lock onto verdant orbs. Aeri felt him as soon as she’d stepped inside. Being an empath made even the slightest of emotional upheavals flare in her radar, and Alric Kuhn lit up her radar like a fireworks display on Lifeday.

No longer tied to Alric Kuhn, Aeri had a choice. While there was respect for the man, she had worked as Danger’s assistant for several years. There was no one else who understood more what Danger had gone through; what the wake of Alric’s loss and the circumstances behind it had forged the Arceneau anew.

“He’s here.” Aeri told Danger simply. That was all there was to it now. A forewarning was given and ultimately, the decision to move forward would be Danger’s alone to bear.

Lips would draw into a thin line. Aeri didn’t have to elaborate. A deep intake of breath would seek to steady nerves. Why now? That was the question.

We are far from done, he’d said. His voice echoing in her ears as if it was only yesterday.

Her eyes went drifting down the corridor, then fell down to the black silk gloves she wore. Quietly, her right hand began to tug at the tips of her fingers of her left, the soft fabric giving a soft whisper as she would tug the glove off.

I don’t care how long it takes. A day. A Month. A year. A decade.

“Have Eryk prep the Pearl,” she would relay quietly, her head lifting along with her chin. Shoulders swung back, and that backbone turned into turadium steel. Her slow and easy walk would tattoo down the corridor. Thoughts would percolate in her mind. Doubts. Anger. Weariness. A wariness along with a stoic acceptance of having to face the man she hadn’t seen in years.

Up close he was no different than before. There he sat, splayed upon the acceleration couch much like he had that one afternoon that had changed everything. No, it wasn’t the wake of his betrayal. The day she spoke about is the day she pushed aside her feelings and helped a man become aware of a love he had for another woman.

I’ll make it up to you.

Would she have done things differently had she known it would have ended like this? Did it matter? she mused, her low clipped heels coming to a stop at the edge of the lounge. Verdant orbs locked upon the swarthy visage of a man she had fallen in love with many years ago and she could not help the ache that fisted her heart. Ice may run through her veins when it came to personal matters, but nothing prepared her for the sight that beheld her.

He was ragged; raw. Oh not in physical form as much as what lay therein. Perhaps she could still read him after all these years. Or maybe she was only seeing what she wanted to see?

Danger held her head high, and that tension between them would grow thick enough to cut with a knife. Her expression was ever so cordial, seemingly relaxed. Regal as it was aloof. Just like Alric, she was wearing a mask. This time, it was with a practiced air that would be difficult to discern. But for Alric, easy to see the change from the woman he had known before.

The whisper of black silk went sliding from her right hand, her left tugging the remaining dark glove to expose her hand.

I promise.

“Mistah Kuhn,” she would seemingly state quietly, guarded in fact. Time had not waned the husky honeyed rasp. “To what do I owe the honor?”

 

[Alric Kuhn]

The old him would have snapped at her for that.

It didn't matter how many years had passed. How much time they had been part. That mask that she wore, that cordial tone and that face that always seemed to be looking on from high above. He recognized it, he saw that painted mask that sat upon her face and tinted her to an almost unrecognizable status. He knew better though. Even after all this time he could still see hints of the Danger that he had come to know so well.

The old him would have called her out for it, would have broken through his slump and told her to drop the act.

But it was different now.

Instead he simply raised himself up. Alric pulled himself free from the couches back, leaning forward so that his elbows rested on his knees and one hand swept through his hair. Black and gray locks curled backward, reaped by thick fingers and pulled across his scalp. He let out a loud, tired breath, shaking as he did so as though he were cold. His lips thinned, and his bright blue eyes stared at his own shoes. They stayed there for a moment, then looked up at Danger, no small amount of shame hidden beneath his gaze.

“I...” He tried to speak, but he cut himself off with an odd intake of air. Alric tried to think, tried to play the game, but it all seemed to lost to him. The board had long ago faded, rotted away and broken into pieces. He was old now, too old to play games, too old to remember. His eyes fell down back against the ground, and his lungs emptied of air once again.

His fingers curled, pulling at his own hair for a few seconds until he managed to look up at the woman he still considered his best friend.

“Sometimes, at night...” He spoke, his voice seemed to echo against the floor, cracked and broken. “...I'll wake up, and I'm still in that hut on Tatooine. I'll feel my back, burning and aching. I'll hear Fiona and Violet, I'll see you, sitting in the corner. I think that my entire life was a dream, that everything had been a hallucination.”

He stopped. “Then I remember. ”

His words were a mix of emotions, joy, anger, frustration, and utter despair.

“I remember what happened after. What we went through. Lily and Rose...” The last two names peaked the joy in his tone, then his voice cracked. “Si-Her.”

It hurt too much.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

You sell your secrets to me
For a price, for a price...
You run your blade right through me
My fears die, leaving your's alive
​

His eyes betrayed him.

There, bare and open. Vulnerable as the nights on Tatooine that Alric had begged and pleaded with her to save the lives of his sisters in an Aspha induced hallucinogenic stupor. All of which would end in torment and despair. Both of which were carved upon the desperate gaunt visage with notable cruelty.

She was familiar to this side of Alric. Perhaps that still bore true for the Tetan. Even now, Danger had no desire to see Alric in pain or suffering. Is that not why she had kept to her own? Part of her said she should remain strong. Warned her of getting too close; voiced objections that it had taken nearly two decades for them to get here. Another side of her ache for the man. For Alric, the man she had considered her best friend and had grieved his loss as she had for their daughter. One does not live a life of similar loss and despair without being empathic to it. While she had no context, the strength and validity of his anguish was real.

Did he get news of Rose? Was that the reason he was like this? It was difficult to discern, but the crack in his voice at the mention of his wife gave a clue.

Her gaze fell, her fingers playing with the silk of the fabric of her gloves. She would close her eyes, just for a moment. Finally they would slid open, twin curtains resting anew upon the haggard form of a desperate man.

She took a ragged breath, felt the cool conditioned air of the ship fill her lungs.

Then slowly took one step forward. Then another. Her full black skirt would give a subtle swish, until the light spicy scent of Danger’s perfume would waft delicately over Alric as she came to a full stop in front of him.

“Alric.” his name was a whisper in the dark. Her expression had softened, and in her eyes bore an emotional struggle she was trying hard to control, perhaps as much as he.

“Why are you here?”

 

[Alric Kuhn]

What was he supposed to say? What was he supposed to do?

Tell her that Silara had died? That she had left him and thrown herself upon battle after battle until the end? How? How was he supposed to say that? How was he supposed to tell Danger, the only true friend that he had ever had, that he had spent the last weeks an absolute wreck, crying and fighting the pain inside of himself. That he had been near the very edge of his own thoughts, that he had once again stared at that abyss, and watched it stare back at him.

"I..." He trailed off, his voice breaking again. "She...She uuhh."

How was he supposed to tell her? Did it even matter to her?

Would she care? Would she scoff at him or even laugh. His body shook again, his hand tightening in his hair as though he were trying to restrain himself. Tears slowly ran down his face, his face still pointed towards his own shoes though his eyes had clamped shut. He took another breath. It shook him to his core and sent a tear onto Danger's shoe.

"I wanted to...I wanted to thank you for looking after them." His voice was steady, more calm as he referred to his daughters. Briefly their faces flashed in front of his eyes, and the grip he had on his hair slackened slightly. The mere mention of them eased his pain, calmed his thoughts.

They were all that he had left.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

And although your lips pursue me
In the shadow of your eyes
Love and fear collide
Love and fear​

There comes a fine line one has the choice to cross. A fine line drawn on the sand. A line of demarcation, but ultimately a choice.

He was wretched. Just as much as he had once been in Tatooine in that Tusken Raider hut and Danger found herself faltering. A knot grew in her throat, thick as cotton and just as difficult to swallow. Time may have scarred over her wounds, but she still could not stand to see Alric torn in two. Her aloofness would drain. Her mask would crack.

They had been through far too much for her to remain rigidly so.

The touch of her hand would transfer warmth upon his cheek, her thumb scraping across the rasp of his beard as she would cup his jaw. Her own eyes would blur, and instead of words actions took their place.

Years fell away as Danger’s arms went looping around Alric’s shoulders, gently lowering his hands from their tight latch on his hair, drawing him against her belly in a comforting embrace. Her left hand would stroke a soothing cafune, offering a silent pillar for him to latch onto, if only temporarily.

Giving as she had in that Tatooine cave so many years ago.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

Alric simply cried.

It seemed something he had done a lot lately. Most would have called it out of character, some would have called it pathetic, but others would understand, Danger would, did. He had lost his wife. He had lost the person in this galaxy that had held him up, a piece of him that had helped him stand and be himself over these last years. Without her, he had become lost. He had fallen to bits, and it showed. The last thing that kept him going, the thing that kept him focus were his daughters.

He had been apart from them for so long. He had left them, and because of that they had suffered. The guilt ate at him almost as much as the loss of his wife. Alric hated himself, he hated the galaxy that had birthed him, but most of all he had the fact that he had come crawling back. He had come back on his hands and knees, to Danger, to Lily, to Rose. He came crawling back to ask for forgiveness that he didn't deserve.

That fact, that simple fact destroyed him.

He cried as Danger held him, unable to speak a word.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Sometime later...

“Erkerd and Kashi’Kah are with them.”

Danger would tell Alric some time later, speaking of the two trusted Noghri assigned to guard the twins. Who knew how long Alric had wept in her arms. It didn’t matter. Somewhere in between Danger caught Aeri’s questioning gaze by the hatch. For once, the Zeltron had not manipulated Arceneau’s emotions to help her maintain her balance. This was a situation that had to be dealt by Danger without the intervention of another.

The Krayt’s Pearl had long since left the docking station, her head way taking her and her crew down the Hydian way. Hyperspace would paint blue white streaks across the viewports, the low hum of the engine along with the air recycler a familiar lull.

She had held him until he was spent. Until he was emotionally drained and could no longer find the tears to continue. She held him like she’d done to Saffron and to Ashiin. Much like she had done to Makai. Much like she had done to other younglings that were the rare receivers of comforting embraces without expecting anything in return.

Danger would not expect him to elaborate on what had happened. However, from the manner by which he had reacted to the mention of his wife and how similar his reaction was that to the death of his sisters, it was easy to guess. The context and the details of the story didn’t matter, merely that Alric was in his stages of grief.

She didn’t understand why he would leave his daughters on their own; and to a degree, Danger was still upset about that. But chiding him over the matter was not going to get anywhere; not with the seriousness of Rose’s situation.

The focus had to move forward. If anything, for those girls who so rightfully deserved a father who would be there. A family. One that Danger had expected would be the utmost important drive for Alric Kuhn.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

"I know." Alric said softly. His voice was still broken, cracked in places and hoarse. It was hard for him to speak, hard for him to say anything at all. There was much he wanted to tell her, much that he felt he needed to say. Yet he stayed quiet on those topics, instead thinking of his daughters. They were what mattered now. They were what was important. Everything else could wait.

"Rose is home." He said as his fingers scratched against his pants. "On Empress Teta."

There was confidence in his tone that spoke of truth. "Lily is on Coruscant."

He knew exactly where both of his daughters were. They had been his priority. Before everything else, before Vanir, before the Gala, before he had even showered he had contacted the both of them. They were what mattered. He knew that without them he was nothing, and as such they would always come first.

"They're both safe." He knew that too. "I know what they've been through, what they've endured without us...me."

Alric bit his lip and looked up at Danger. "I sent them a message before I-"

He stopped explaining himself, realizing that he was talking too much and too fast. The stress was still getting to him, the emotional lows, that pit that he was stuck in. Everything still collapsed onto him, and in truth he wasn't sure that his daughters ever wanted to see him again. That thought stung him in the heart, burned him to his core and turned him apart. He knew that they needed time, but all he wanted was to hold them.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

“Then go to them.” came Danger’s instruction. Really. It was simple.

That simple.

It would echo of another time Danger had told him the same thing. Back on Corellia when Alric had become aware that the emotion he felt for another woman was love.

Her full figure would take a step to the side, allowing him a measure to regain his bearings. She too had a dire need to find some sort of balance. Tried and true, a small platinum case would be drawn from their perch upon the table. One thin white cigarra would then be plucked from its orderly line, her fingers bringing it up to rest limply between her ruby red lips.

The soft waves of auburn hair would dance with mahogany highlights as she stood under the soft glow of the overhead lights. While she gave the appearance of a certain laid back air, her back was straight. Her voice only an encouraging push. Maybe it was her method of trying to protect herself, to not get too attached to Alric after having held him in her arms as he wept wretched sobs.

Maybe she just wasn’t quite ready to bridge that chasm that had driven them apart for so long.

The flare of a light would burn the tip of her vice a bright cherry hue. She was the only one who still was consistent with her vices, Alric having given up smoking in the wake of his heart attack. LIkely send her to an early grave no doubt.

“You know where they are,” Danger would remind him, her pointed expression lancing at him over her shoulder.

“So what are you waiting for?”

 

[Alric Kuhn]

For a moment he waited. He stalled. Alric didn't want to disappoint Danger, he never did. It hurt him to do so, but this was one time he knew that she was wrong. He wanted to follow her advice, he wanted so desperately to run to Lily and Rose, to collect both of them and sweep them into his arms, but he knew that doing so would be a mistake, that his daughters were older, more mature. This wasn't something he could force on them, this was something that they had to do themselves.

"I can't." He said finally. "I want to. I want to so badly."

His voice cracked again. "Every time I think about what I did. Every time I think about what Rose went through, what Lily had to see, everything that happened to them both...I die inside. Another part of me breaks off and falls into that Abyss."

Was he wrong? Was Danger right? Should he go and see them?

"But I know I can't do what I always do." Always did anyway. "This isn't something I can force on them. This isn't something that I can make them do. I hurt them. I'm the reason they suffered."

Oh how it stung to admit that, how it pained him. "I can't show up and ask them to forgive me...just like I can't ask you."

Those words were powerful, and true. He so badly wanted to. He so badly wanted everything to be okay. He wanted his friend back, he wanted his daughters back, he wanted everything to be okay, but this time Alric knew that he couldn't have it his way. He knew that things would come slowly, that things would have to work out as they did.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

…Just like I can’t ask you.

That brought her pause, her fingers hovering over her mouth as they held the narcotic. A lazy curl of smoke rose from the glowing tip of the Viper. Half hooded eyes would flick over towards the former Titan, widening with the subtle motion of surprise.

As if she couldn't quite take in the honesty of his expression, she turned her head away, the part of her auburn hair a veil to shutter the subtle plays of her brows drawing together. He still unnerved her.

“If you spend a lifetime worryin’ about what you ‘can’t’ do, instead of focusin’ on what you ‘can’ do, little to none will get done.” she said simply. Perhaps they were of two different minds. They didn’t always agree on things; their colorful past made that clear. Yet Danger was the sort of woman who respected an individual who would act; that in itself showed more of a passion for what one wanted and was fully willing to express it.

It was that very reason why things spiraled into that confusing dance between her and he at that Expo long ago.

Her lids would drop to contemplate the cigarillo held between her fingers, caught between her own cocktail of grievances and concerns.

“Rose would have died.” she said simply, referring to the Dark Plague that had run virulent within her young body. It wasn’t meant to wound, but to be blunt. The details she’d been sent had made her make moves to visit her ward, but she had escaped long before Danger made it there. Erkard would look after her none the less. Of that she had no worry.

“Time is something we both can’t afford to waste in our age.” the filtered edge went pressing against her lips, and she took a long sharp drag.

“Life will pass us by before we know it, leaving only regrets.” it wasn’t said to wound. No instead the words were exhaled with notable weariness.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

His jaw tightened and his teeth clicked.

"I know that." There was a hint of desperation there, though whether he was talking about Rose's almost death or his own inaction. "They know I'm back. They know I'm here for them."

For a moment he stopped, then he looked back at his hands. "When I decided to come back. When the thought first solidified in my mind...I sent them a message. They were the only thing I could think of. I..."

For a moment more he paused.

"I didn't tell them what happened...to..." He stopped and glanced at Danger, the continued. "I know they'll come to me. Lily will no matter what, Rose...Rose has always been more difficult."

She had always been more headstrong, more like her mother. Rose usually got her way simply by way of pushing for what she wanted. Alric remembered that fondly, it was what likely kept her alive in the end, her stubborn nature. The morbid thought brought back Alric's feeling of guilt, and slowly he shook his head as though he were trying to get rid of it. "They'll come to me when they're ready, I can't push them. I can't make them take me back. I can't make them forgive me for what I did."

It was clear that a part of him was afraid, that he didn't want his daughters running from him, that he wasn't himself. The old Alric would have done has Danger had suggested. Would have gone and taken his daughters back, would have snapped them up in a heartbeat. Yet here he was, being careful. It was so unlike him.

"I can only wait and support them in every way that I can." Both of his daughters would feel their fathers presence, both of them would know that he was back.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

[member="Alric Kuhn"]

It was that break in his voice that confirmed it; the sentence that he could not continue in that tremulous tone. The pain in his voice cut through her, but not nearly as much as the self-loathing. She had wondered how he had come to this. It was such a strange, surreal situation to be in. Where before he would have that confident air, he hesitated. Where before he'd be decisive in his actions, he was cautious.

His eyes flickered with remorse and culpability. His voice hoarse and pained and full of heartbreak. Hair unruly by the endless impatient and frantic rakes of his fingers through his hair. Those normally smug and defiant burning blue eyes now haunted by whatever demons lay therein. No longer was there that good-natured veneer of charm and cocky confidence. In their place was a hollow eyed man. A mere shell. It both broke her heart and concerned her all together.

"It isn't about making anyone do any particular thing," she explain softly, turning away as she set down the platinum case and light at the table. The full black skirt would give a soft swish with every step of her full hipped amble. She paced. She had to in order to keep busy.

Smoke went streaming out of the corner of her mouth and she came to a halt in front of a large viewport. Hyperspace had its own hypnotic charm, but it was the reflection upon the glass that caught her attention. The woman to be precise... along with the image of a shadow of a man she'd once known just past her shoulder.

He may want to take the cautious path, but she knew better. Or at least, thought she did. In her mind, if he was the one who left, then he should be the one to make amends. One can support all they like, but supporting from a distance compared to that in the flesh was different. It was the intent of the matter really; the reasoning behind it. It wasn't about making demands of forgiveness; it was about simply being there. To show that desire that nothing in the Nine hells would stop him from reaching out to those girls and never letting go.

Then again, Danger's past had colored her life in disappointments and second fiddles. A message did not a tangible representation of flesh and blood make. To her, actions meant more than mere words.

She took another sharp inhale of the Viper, lowering her lids from the reflection of his figure across the viewport.

"It is about reaching forward."

 

[Alric Kuhn]

[member="Danger Arceneau"]

Alric slammed in his fists on the table. The metal rumbled, and the small pieces of silver and other knick knacks rumbled and clattered across it, a glass falling and shattering as Alric released the pent up frustration and rage.

“I can't!” His words were almost desperate, broken somehow.

He was hollow, he was broken. His lie had fallen into guilt and despair, but along with it had come anger. Anger at himself, anger at his wife, anger at everything. He didn't know if he was he was right, he didn't know if Danger was wrong. The truth was he didn't know anything. The confidence that had so strongly clung to him, the brashness and the headstrong arrogance that had been a trademark of Alric Kuhn had all but disappeared. Gone was the man who would face Sith Lords without a second thought, gone was the man who would chase a woman to Tatooine because of a simple perceived insult.

Another man sat on that couch, a lesser man.

A broken hollow shell that was world weary and scared of what was yet to come.

He breathed heavily, looking at his hand as they slowly unfurled from tight fists. His eyes held shame, his hands were shacking. Not everything was as simple as it had been before. Not everything was as easy. He couldn't simply decide anymore, he couldn't simply make another move, not when the stakes were so high, not when everything, everything he had was on the line.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

The sudden sound of the crash of his fist, the rattle of items scattering across the floor, the shattering of glass -- it made Danger flinch. Not due to fear, but at his utter sense of ire induced despair. Her lids went snapping from the Viper up to his haggard, tortured reflection anew.

She swung her head, half turning to Alric, surveying him surrounded in the physical manifestation of how his universe had fallen apart. The skin across his face was tight,strained. Veins would pop in stark relief across his temples and his eyes glittered with a turbulence as unyielding and savage as the tempests of Kamino.

He was a man lost at sea without a compass. Tortured at his core, drained and desperate as he would latch himself to the edge of that life pod for dear life.

Even Titans fall.

Danger took a deep breath, then slowly strode over to Alric. There was no judgement in her eyes, instead there was silent penetrating contemplation, taking him in. From the bruised, raw, white-knuckled grip of his fists, to the tension filled shift of strained muscles under that finely tailored suit.

“You play Dejarik, right?” it was such a strange question to ask, that perhaps it might shock Alric into focusing on her. But there was a purpose to the soft spoken question.

 

[Alric Kuhn]

A loud breath escaped his lips. A small folding breath that told a story of giving up, of shaking out the last few remnants of whatever was holding him together. He didn't want to answer her, he didn't want to talk anymore. Alric felt defeated, he felt as though he had admitted to himself that he was a failure, that everything he had done until now had simply been a lie. That the idea of his daughters ever coming back to him was a fools errand, that he was chasing a dream that simply didn't exist.

That he would stay broken.

His hands covered his face for a few moments, rubbing, scratching, hiding. His body language betrayed him, and slowly he shifted so that his hands fell away and his bright blue eyes stared up at her.

"I used to." Alric said quietly, as though he were unsure if he'd ever play again. He had had a game going with the M'onnok Fork before it had all happened, he had made the last move before...before Silara had vanished, since then he hadn't checked if his opponent had replied, though it had been weeks. His head shook, as if he were trying to remember the thought. "I can't play games now, Danger. I can't."

 

[Danger Arceneau]

“Then you know the general rules.” She’d continue quietly, turning to set her Viper upon the nearby ashtray that survived Alric’s fist. She would glance away, well aware that he was at his wits end. But what else was she to do. He made her feel as helpless as he, and from there the strong desire to do something productive came to mind.

“But it is more than just a game.” She continue, her voice a steady calm, a lighthouse shining against the gales of the storm. “Most players often confuse strategy and tactics, blundering move that would cost them the game. Almost all games below Yorta level are won and lost through tactical mistakes.”

She would beckon him to follow her, aware he had said he cannot play games, but needing him to focus and clear his head. He was tugged in different directions. Frustrated, someone he was not. Lost.

“Tactics are the short sequences of moves, usually involving an attack or a capture,” the swish of her skirt would take her across the way towards the end of the lounge, where an analog Dejarik board was set with an ongoing game. “The first thing a player looks for when considering any move; forks, pins, skewers, or removing a guard.”

Her fingers would skim across the rim of the board with certain affection, “Strategy… strategy was when a player wasn’t able to take advantage of a tactic. It is a long term plan usually based on positional consideration,” she would gesture to the ongoing game on the board, pointing out the various monsters set on their checkerboard foundation. “Monster mobility, monster king safety… monster guard structure…”

It was her turn, but that wasn’t the point of the conversation.

“The day you showed up on Tatooine full of piss and vinegar years ago, ready to fight and give me a piece of your mind..” that smooth rasp of a drawl floated over the Dejarik board, “That is playing on tactics. Spur of the moment and rushin’ by the seat of your pants and fueled by emotions.”

She understood that philosophy. She had that same train of thought when anyone had done her wrong. She reacted, lashed out. Put every bit of effort to pay tit for tat. However, with age and experience, she had matured. She understood where that kind of life would lead; where it had left her.

Alone.

But that was neither here nor there. This was about Alric. About having him realize that wallowing in self hate, guilt, and despair was going to do neither him nor his girls any good.

“Right now… your desire to wait for your daughters to come to you is strategy.” she would explain, flicking her emerald gaze up at him. “And that’s all you’re focusing on. Defense. Waiting for the other to make their move and reacting defensively accordingly.”

She gave a blink.

“Daddy always said to win a game of Dejairk, it ian’t about playing only tactics or strategy -- it’s a matter of finding the balance between the two.” It was her way of relaying she understood. She understood his desperate need to take careful consideration of every move. He was being careful, going for the long term plan, covering every base he could by being on the full defensive.

Her verdant gaze was unwavering upon those ice blue.

“Find your balance, Alric. You do neither your girls nor you any favors wallowing in a shell of what you were. We live, we lose, but one carries on. Step by step,” she was speaking from experience, and it showed within those glittering eyes of hers. “You may never be the Alric Kuhn of the past, “ she was blunt, honest, and direct. “And I reckon whatever happened between you and your wife is a scar you’ll carry like the lashes on your back.” her lips pursed.

“And yes… those girls might not forgive you; but simply being on the defensive and relying on that is not going to do you any good.”

A gesture would follow towards the Dejarik board; it was all symbolism really. Strategy and tactics in life. Not the type of game he was thinking, where one came out to simply win for the win. No it was something greater than that.

“Find your balance' she emphasized again, "...and reach forward to those girls.”

 

[Alric Kuhn]

He let out a deep breath.

Part of him still wanted to argue part of him wanted to tell Danger that she was full of shit and that tactics and strategy didn't matter when you were talking about family, but of course he knew she wasn't being literal. His lips thinned, and his eyes fell down to his hands again. There were decisions to be made, things that he had to do. His lips thinned and he glanced up at the window.

For the first time he realized that he was in hyperspace.

He hadn't noticed the ship taking off, he hadn't noticed the rumble of the engines or the sound of the ship moving. He hadn't even noticed the pit in his stomach that usually formed when he traveled through hyperspace. His lips thinned again, pressing together until there was almost no blood left. Then he let out a sigh, his head drooping back down. "I'll go see them."

But it would be on his terms. If Alric knew his daughters, they were getting together now. They would be finding solace in one another's arms and comforting each other. When they were together, when he knew that the two of them were in the same place, that was when he would go to them. He nodded to himself. It would give them some time, and it would be best to see them together.

His lungs filled with air and he shook, a shiver falling down his spin.

Alric shifted slightly, his hand once again raking through his hair until he caught the back of his head. His eyes looked up at Danger, and he let out a noise that sounded very much like a chuckle, or perhaps a scoff, maybe a mix of the two.
"Would you sit down, please?" Alric said quietly. "You're gonna give me an aneurysm."

He tried to joke, tried to slip that mask back into place if only for a second.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Danger understood the true meaning behind the joke. She let it pass, and simply played along. Was it for him as much as it was for herself? Who knew. Both needed a measure of that facade to function now; perhaps they always will.

Both had deep wounds that would make it difficult for the mortar and brick that walled their vulnerability in to crack to let anyone else in. Perhaps neither ever would; no one wants to submit themselves willingly to that kind of damage again. For Danger, she knew well she would not be able to weather the storm once more.

So with an arc of her brow and a twist of her lips, she would flash him a half-smile. “I doubt that would do you in Mistah Kuhn,” this time, the surname was said with seeming mild teasing. “Not with that stubborn head of yours.”

She would turn away from the Dejarik board, making a mental note to study for her next move at another time. Her mind was too muddled with thoughts and concerns to give her partner the attention he deserved. Not to mention, length of time in between moves was not uncommon for them. Theirs was a game of patience and simple enjoyment.

She enjoyed that.

Her sashay would draw her back towards the acceleration couches, making a heading towards a small console. Leaning forward slightly, she would press a button. “Aeri… send in a mouse droid.” might as well get that glass picked up. She would straighten, fingers moving to pick up her Viper anew.

“Of course, Miz. Arceneau.” piped the voice of a woman Alric would know well. The one that he’d assigned long ago to secretly protect Danger; a Valkyrie. Would he be surprised that the Zeltron remained in Danger’s employ? Did Danger know? All were questions that were up in the air.

As it was, Danger would acquiesce to Alric’s joking request, sinking down into the acceleration couch that was directly across the one he had sat on not too long ago. Right leg would cross over the left, the hem of the skirt rising slightly. While her posture seemed relax, inside was another matter. They were still things left unsaid, between he and she.

And while she had made her peace long ago, like a bad knee aches from time to time at a coming storm, so did Alric’s presence. For one who enjoyed and thrived on the comings and goings of desert storms that could change the landscape at a moment's notice, it was a strange situation to be in.

His arrival both made her heart thunder as did it unnerved her. Perhaps, he always would.