Cedric Grayson
Ashlan Kaiser
There were few of his blood still remaining. The majority of the family had been wiped out during the many wars that had plagued the homeworld, their positions as guardians of the people pressing them directly into the killing zones. Those that had not taken to the frontlines were often assassinated for political means, or simply murdered by encroaching armies when the defense had finally failed.
His mother had been slain by the workings of the One Sith, his father by the will of the old Galactic Alliance. His brother had died as an infant when the Sith Empire had seen to it that his transport was vaporized during the great exodus, and his sister crushed beneath the falling skyscrapers of Ession's capital city. The last links of the extended family had either rescinded their titles and fled to Naboo, or disappeared into the forgotten corners of the galaxy. Only his grandmother had died well, ending her tenure as the queen of Naboo and fading to natural causes surrounded by those she loved.
Aside from himself, only one other remained.
In one of his more recent drunken stupors, the Reiugen had reached out to the boy. He had not seen or heard of his young nephew since the transformation of the Imperium into the democratic state it was today, and had chosen to remain distant. He had told himself his reasons were doing so were wholly altruistic - that he wished for his sister's only child to live a life free of the responsibilities and terrors the family name would bring him, but that was not the whole truth.
The thought of facing the boy had instilled him with a deep and all encompassing anxiety. In him, he saw Caida, and he could not bring himself to know what the boy might think of him. What Caida, in turn, might have thought of him. How she might have judged him for his failure to defend the homeworld, for his hubris, for the overwhelming desire for revenge that had influenced every choice he had made in the past fifteen years.
Would his twin have approved of his choices? Would she have stood by him? Would she still love him despite his many failings?
No. Likely not.
It was only the cold influence of Balmoraan Bluesky that gave him the courage to reach out to the boy. His feelings about the entire affair were terribly mixed, but his deep-seated sense of guilt certainly had a strong hand in it. He wanted to be seen for what he truly was, wanted to be judged, and who better to do so than his own flesh and blood?
The Reiugen lingered in a dark corner of the nearly empty cantina, nursing a bottle of his treasured bluesky as he gazed through hazy eyes out toward the bar. It was difficult to move about Coruscant and not be recognized, even in the lower levels due to his work there, but this shady district had never cared for him or his policies. Here he was just another drunk, and that suited him just fine.
Mikhail Grayson
had received his message a night or so ago. He knew the boy still remained on Coruscant - he was living the normal live the Reiugen had intended for him. Whether he came to a place like this, let alone at as late of an hour as the Reuigen had chosen for their time of meeting, remained to be seen. Privately, the exile almost hoped that he wouldn't.
His mother had been slain by the workings of the One Sith, his father by the will of the old Galactic Alliance. His brother had died as an infant when the Sith Empire had seen to it that his transport was vaporized during the great exodus, and his sister crushed beneath the falling skyscrapers of Ession's capital city. The last links of the extended family had either rescinded their titles and fled to Naboo, or disappeared into the forgotten corners of the galaxy. Only his grandmother had died well, ending her tenure as the queen of Naboo and fading to natural causes surrounded by those she loved.
Aside from himself, only one other remained.
In one of his more recent drunken stupors, the Reiugen had reached out to the boy. He had not seen or heard of his young nephew since the transformation of the Imperium into the democratic state it was today, and had chosen to remain distant. He had told himself his reasons were doing so were wholly altruistic - that he wished for his sister's only child to live a life free of the responsibilities and terrors the family name would bring him, but that was not the whole truth.
The thought of facing the boy had instilled him with a deep and all encompassing anxiety. In him, he saw Caida, and he could not bring himself to know what the boy might think of him. What Caida, in turn, might have thought of him. How she might have judged him for his failure to defend the homeworld, for his hubris, for the overwhelming desire for revenge that had influenced every choice he had made in the past fifteen years.
Would his twin have approved of his choices? Would she have stood by him? Would she still love him despite his many failings?
No. Likely not.
It was only the cold influence of Balmoraan Bluesky that gave him the courage to reach out to the boy. His feelings about the entire affair were terribly mixed, but his deep-seated sense of guilt certainly had a strong hand in it. He wanted to be seen for what he truly was, wanted to be judged, and who better to do so than his own flesh and blood?
The Reiugen lingered in a dark corner of the nearly empty cantina, nursing a bottle of his treasured bluesky as he gazed through hazy eyes out toward the bar. It was difficult to move about Coruscant and not be recognized, even in the lower levels due to his work there, but this shady district had never cared for him or his policies. Here he was just another drunk, and that suited him just fine.
Mikhail Grayson
had received his message a night or so ago. He knew the boy still remained on Coruscant - he was living the normal live the Reiugen had intended for him. Whether he came to a place like this, let alone at as late of an hour as the Reuigen had chosen for their time of meeting, remained to be seen. Privately, the exile almost hoped that he wouldn't. 
