Stolen Moments

[Cyrene Miles]

The big bad Sith was here to squash the rebellion, with his fleet and legions of clone troopers. Cyrene wasn't quite sure how she felt about clones. The little her and her squadmates had seen of these ones they were a grim, humorless lot, but mostly she just felt a bit bad for them. No one had asked if they wanted to sign up. They were mostly thought of on the same level as droids. They were built the same as people though, they moved the same, they talked the same, they thought the same. Maybe it was on account of her just being a simple farm girl, but she reckoned they were people. Not all the other stormtroopers stationed here originally felt the same. There'd been no fights though, there was too much wariness.

And despite all that, the rebellion remained uncrushed. Cyrene should know. For all that she wore the snow white of the stormtroopers when on duty, she was firmly committed to the rebellion. And the man leading it.

This thought had brown eyes turning to the man in question. [member="Cyril Grayson"]. Member of the Galactic Republic. Jedi. Rebel. None of this was on her mind however. She saw only the man, and it was a man she loved. Perhaps because they both knew they could die at any time, or perhaps simply because she at least was practical and didn't bother mucking about, things had progressed and continued to progress fairly quickly. What had they known each other for now? Weeks maybe? It felt right though, and that was enough for her.

Time off hadn't been recalled, thankfully, and while they were making sure everything was one hundred percent up to standards and done by the book with the Sith around, she was still able to get off base. She'd even decided to risk staying overnight again. It wasn't uncommon. A good handful of the men had locals they visited so it wasn't as if it would be remarked upon too much. No more than the usual ribbing soldiers always gave each other. All of which had her back in the little semi-shack he was currently calling home.

Not that she cared about the decor. Current threats aside, there was always the risk she'd get deployed elsewhere. She'd take her time with him where and when she could.

"What's goin' through that head o' yours now?"

she asked him with a grin, it was a safe bet he was thinking about something. He usually was.

 

[Placeholder 04]

Love was a very strong word.

Cyril adored the sniper, to be sure. She made him life. He could rely on her hen the others fell short. She stayed by his side even though doing so might very well mean an excruciating demise. Yes, he felt very strongly toward her, but did he love her?

There was a time when a woman had infatuated the errant Jedi Master. At first, his old pilot and close friend Corvetta. That had fallen through due to his dedication to the order - he'd ran away from the relationship in hopes of furthering his training. He was just a child then, a young man with stars in his eyes and a dream held close to his heart.

Then he'd come across [member="Silara Kuhn"]. A Sith Lord and everything that Cyril's oaths held him against. They'd fought numerous times, and with each confrontation, Cyril had tried his damnedest to get her to set down her blade and learn the ways of the light. A sort of twisted affection had formed between the two of them, and during battle of Kahsyyk, his will had been tested. He had loved the Sith in his own way, and even now, thinking back on that climactic battle, he felt a dull ache in his chest.

This was different. Cyrene was no awkward teenage crush. She certainly was not his enemy. She was just...her. That was enough for him. He just needed to figure out if the big 'L' word was accurate.

"You of course." He teased, offering a good natured smile over his shoulder. He tore his eyes away from the datapad he'd so diligantly been reading, and ran a hand over his brow. It was rare they had these moments, moments where they could just sit down. He was learning to cherish them.

"You and the Order. I'm going to send a message to the Republic's Prime Minister later this evening, but I'm worrying about who I should report to. One of my associates, Kian Karr, is my contact on the Council. I'm not sure whether I should speak to him first or the Minister. Jedi assistance or the Republic."

He pushed up from his chair, a makeshift slab of wood with four pillars strapped to the bottom, and strolled over to the sniper. For just a moment, the oppressive presence of [member="Darth Arcis"] was not near Kinthar. He could have a moment's peace.

"I actually used to be the Prime Minister's bodyguard and military adviser, if you can believe it." He motioned all around. "Now I'm in this - couldn't be happier."

[member="Cyrene Miles"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

"Pffft."

Was her response with a roll of the eyes. He might be now that she'd spoken, but neither of them was the type to sit about and make eyes at each other. Or at least she hoped not. Maybe a little. It probably couldn't be helped. Still, there was too much of import going on to just sit about thinking of the other. She didn't think about him all the time. Didn't need to. She knew he was there. There often being a vague metaphysical place, rather than a physical one quite often, but there all the same.

Still it was nice of him, and he got down to business soon enough.

"Mm, don't know either, nor what they'd do so I can't advise on that one."

She commented with a one shouldered shrug. Nor was she entirely comfortable with it, but his backing had to be coming from somewhere, and she supposed eventually it was going to take more than the ragtag crew he'd assembled from who knew where. He was already down one. Lost to a fit of pique rather than in action. In the perfect world, her fellow Imperials would see the problems and step up to fix them with her, but that didn't seem to be the case. Likely largely due to fear. Still, there was rebellion and then there was treason. As far as Cyrene was concerned while she was rebelling, and how done things that would be considered treasonous, she was not a traitor. She wanted the Empire to flourish. She also wanted it to protect it's people properly. No vong-forming. No sith rampages because they could. Force users in general were not her favourite, so calling in the Jedi didn't exactly make her happy. She put up with Cyril's force sensitivity because there wasn't really anything he could do about it. As for calling in the Republic.. If the Empire and the Republic decided to get along, well that was all fine and good, but they'd been fighting for so long..

Let me be makin' th'right choices. I know my reason's are good, but don't let me be weakenin' my home just so as others c'n swoop in 'nd finish us off.

Not that she suspected Cyril would be trying to do that, but what did she know about them who ran the Republic? Nothing.

"Ayuh, I c'n see how this'd be a step up from sittin' around in posh buildin's tellin' higher ups what t'do. Livin' th'dream now."

She teased him. Not that she didn't understand. He was doing something concrete now, with measurable results. Maybe he'd been making more of a difference as a military adviser, she didn't know, but that sort of job it was hard to actually measure your successes. Here where he was carrying out the ops, it was much easier and more satisfying.

It did briefly make her wonder if this as what he wanted to do with the rest of his life then. Not that she was thinking of settling down, the Sniper generally did not bother to think that far ahead, it was quite likely she'd be dead sooner rather than later, why fuss about it? One step and one day at a time. Still, he'd asked about her future before.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

What was the right thing to say? They often spoke of the future - not of the normal things most young couples did, but of war. Political change. Radical restructure to the government. Wrecking complex A, bombing complex B. It was all work, not that Cyril minded, but he felt as if he should try to be more sentimental. Force only knew if it would mean anything.

He strolled over to the sniper, his cybernetic arm whirring as he took her hands in his. What would be their future? There were no rules against relationships within the Order, but could he do both at the same time? Hadn't he served his debt to the galaxy already?

"Oh, always. When I was on Gratos, I fantasized about having a little home like this. Granted I could go for a speeder too, and maybe more than one room..." He lifted his shoulders in a slight shrug, and snickered.

How long had it been since he'd seen his family? A few months at most. His mother was busy doing her usual duties. His eldest sister was off working for the Mandalorians - the traitor. The younger two were obsessing over boys and generally living peaceful lives. That was the ideal existence. Shouldn't they try to have something like that too? What if children were ever in the picture?

He snaked his arms around her waist, pulling her close. A soft sigh escaped him as he took her into his embrace; the reassuring calm he'd come to associate with it setting his mind at ease. The others might leave, or even turn on him, but Cyrene was always there. She was his.

"I have three sisters, a brother, and my mom. My mother is Feena Mason, the current Queen of Naboo. My eldest sister is a Mandalorian warrior by marriage. My brother is living in an insane asylum on Anaxes at the moment. The other two sisters are just kids, and they're happy. I want you to meet them when this is all done." He mused.

"We'll have a big celebration back home once the war is over. The family will love you."

There it was. The first step onto something more. Proof that this was no fling or other similar excursion. Cyril was dead-set on courting her in every sense of the word - he might as well have proposed given Naboo's traditions on relationships. To dedicate oneself to another person in such a way; to allow them to come to a family celebration, especially when one was a member of the nobility, was usually a promise that marriage was soon to follow.

 

[Cyrene Miles]

"It's cozy at least."

She offered with another grin. Not that she was used to much fancier, but she was used to space. The home she'd grown up in had been well made, but it hadn't necessarily looked it, having been cobbled together and expanded upon by each generation as necessary or in some cases as the whim took them. Some of the time it had only been her and her mother, but if the year was good there could be a couple hired hands staying on as well, and there was room for them too. Sprawling was a pretty good term. Not very dignified, relaxed and comfortable.

Hand in hand was nice, physical contact reaffirming whatever other connection they had going on. When he pulled her in close against him though that was even better. Even as he sighed, what little tension the Sniper carried, and there was some, even in one as unflappable as her, drained away. Enough that even when he mentioned his mother was a Queen she didn't stiffen up, though she may have made a face. She wasn't quite sure she was the sort made to rub elbows with royalty.

Still, she liked these glimpses into where he'd come from. They weren't who he was, but they were a part of him. It wasn't just name, height, age, background that made up a person after all. It was their favourite hobby, the song that got stuck in their head, the things they thought, important or otherwise, what they'd eat on a lazy Benduday morning if they got to choose, the expression on their face when they slept. A person was made up of a thousand things. They weren't where they came from though, they were where they were going, and wherever it was Cyril was going, well Cyrene reckoned she'd like to go there too. Even if it did involve terrifying mothers.

She'd have been more concerned except for two facts. One, he'd said after the war, and that was too far out and too up in the air to worry about. Again, one day, one step at a time. And secondly..

"Monarch of Naboo hey? Good, y'can pinch some of her Guarlara for me."

When given a lot to digest, the Sniper sometimes fell back on what she knew. And she knew she'd have quite liked to get her hands on a couple of Guarlara back when she'd been on the ranch. They were reserved solely for the monarchy of Naboo however. She'd ridden and used their smaller Gualama cousins to work stock, and they preformed damned well, but it was human nature to wonder about what you didn't and couldn't have.

Still, in her way she circled back to what he'd said eventually.

"I wouldn't mind meetin' 'em. Can't be that bad if they're related to you. I don't really have anyone t'introduce you to. My probably-Da if we were on Taanab I suppose."

She snickered slightly at this.

"I c'n hear that conversation already."

"Cyrene.. you're, you're lookin' well. Din't get shot."

"Not too badly, no."

"So.. Seein' any lads then?"

"Ayuh, this one."

"Oh. Uh. Good, good. Well, best be gettin' back to the herds."

"Ayuh."

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

That was alright. Cyril had enough family for the both of them, and something told him Cyrene's relationship with her father wasn't exactly strong. He could understand that - his own father had abandoned him to the Sith after all. Lovely man, that one.

"Sounds like a charming guy." He teased, pressing his lips to her brow. Truthfully, he thought about the future far more than he ever let on. The possibility of living an average life was something he was beginning to find desirable. No plots to murder a government leader. No crazed Sith running about chopping children in half. Just a small townhouse out in the middle of nowhere. For just a moment, he was taken by it.

"Once we've stopped the Sith, do you want to keep serving?" He asked quietly, lofting a brow as he pulled away from her. "I don't know what I'll do. I've done more than enough for the Order. It wouldn't be too illogical for me to leave..."

Leave the Jedi Order.

Could he do it? With the right motivation perhaps. His life was service to the Republic. Making such a drastic change would be difficult to cope with, but if it was for Cyrene, he might be able to deal with it, and that shocked him.

"I mean, we still have to deal with Arcis. He's our biggest obstacle."

[member="Cyrene Miles"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

Cyrene chuckled slightly at that, a charming throaty sound, as unpretentious as she was.

"Aww, he ain't half bad. I got the feelin' him and my Ma din't really mean t'have a kid, y'know? He checked in now'n again, I guess it's more'n what some people's folks do. Just a bit awkward."

At his next question a faint flush made it's way into her cheeks, and her answer was more hesitant, less certain, as if this were something she was only now considering.

"I dunno. I mean, I guess I reckoned there'd still need t'be an army, lots o'threats other'n Sith, if not so dire but.. I guess if we pulled that off, wouldn't no one argue it if I wanted t'retire. I mean, a girls gotta eat somehow, but it ain't that hard t'be self sufficient, s'long as y'have help."

She'd never really thought of retiring. Let alone retiring early. She'd just sort of figured once she'd signed up that she would likely die serving. Not in a dramatic fashion or anything, but it was a highly hazardous profession and she was no quitter. But maybe it wouldn't be so bad to going back to working the land, if she wasn't alone. Of course maybe he didn't want that. Maybe he wanted to go live in a castle or something. She wasn't really certain how Princes lived if they weren't Jedi. She was quite certain she wasn't made for swanning about in silks, but Cyril didn't see the type and even if he turned into it at home well, she could always just go out and find a way to be useful, as she always did.

She was pulled from this strange, bewildering and slightly worrying world of what-ifs and could be's by his next comment. Face took on it's usual easy cast once again as she nidded once.

"Ayuh. Settin' himself up t'be a bloody big roadbump that one. Don't reckon he'll go down as easy as th'laddybuck in the hive."

Though a slugthrower round to the head tended to kill anyone. That said, if you just went to shoot a Sith that powerful in cold blood, they generally knew who you were, where you were and what you were doing before you'd even reached your vantage point, and then you were hooped. Maybe if they were properly distracted...

That was a thought to file away for another day.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Ladybuck.

It took Cyril longer than he would ever admit to realize just what in Corellia's nine Hells she meant by that. The Sith in the Collocoid hive, of course. He made a face that originated somewhere between amusement and confusion, shrugged his shoulders, and smiled.

"We'll get him like we do all the others. He's just another Sith - one we can deal with together." He replied, settling down in one of the chairs.

It was necessary to have some form of confidence about the Sith. Truthfully, the idea of moving against Arcis on level ground was intimidating. The old Sith Lord was many times his better in control of the force, but if he was lucky, then Arcis might have begun to waver in his skill with a lightsaber. He still recalled the Sith Lord from his early childhood. Always there in Council meetings, standing off in a corner, watching.

The thought sent a shiver down his spine. He decided he wanted to focus on something a bit more optimistic in nature.

"We can find a little place on the fringe. I'll leave the Order, find a regular job. No more fighting, no more blood. Maybe I'll start an enclave for healers." He shrugged. "Just you and me. We'll find a place for Urya and the rest if they need it..."

A pause.

"Do you uh...want kids?"

[member="Cyrene Miles"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

"Ayuh, I reckon we can and will."

Even though it wouldn't be easy, they would manage. Not because of any ridiculous we can do anything when we're together, our love is magic foolishness, but because they were competent and determined and were there to support each other. Hopefully his team was as well. Those who were left anyway. Besides, whether they could or not, they were going to try, so they might as well prepare for success rather than the alternative.

The idea of him in a regular job amused her. Largely because her two experiences with employment were ranching and army, which were more ways of life than jobs. Her mental images of 'regular' jobs largely included suits, shiny shoes, perfect hair and briefcases. Also lots of handshakes.

She wasn't entirely sure how she felt about a healing enclave in her living room, but she supposed she was dealing with his.. force stuff.. all right. Besides, maybe if they had to go out and do some proper work and get dirty as well as doing all their.. unnatural business they'd be a little better grounded. It was hard to get ideas of godhood stuck in your head when you were up to your armpits in dung.

In her own mind going home was always back to Taanab, or maybe since that was where his family was, Naboo. Either could become embroiled in politics at any time though, a fringe world was probably the safest bet for a quiet life. And it wasn't as if the lack of luxuries would be anything new to her.

"Kids?"

She rubbed the back of her neck absently as she thought about it.

"Hain't really come up before, what with there just bein' me and all."

Did she want kids? She wasn't against kids, she just hadn't wanted them yet or alone. Her Mama had done all right on her own, but Cyrene knew it had been hard on her. But she had Cyril now, so she wasn't alone. And if this was after the war, when they had their own home..

"I guess? I mean I ain't lookin' t'pop out a whole brood or nothin', but after the war, with a proper home 'nd stuff, maybe? You?"

Y'keep on goin' like y'have been girlie it ain't gonna be a maybe and y'ain't gonna have t'wait till the war ends and y'best hope y'both get through this.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

It was an out of the blue question, but Cyril had asked it anyway. Children were never something he would have dared to perceive in his future. Romance had always proven to be a wasteful activity - a lot of effort with little reward. It left Cyril with a sour taste in his mouth, and for a long time, he'd completely given up the notion.

That was until he met Cyrene of course.

"I wouldn't mind them in the future. One or two maybe." He replied, grinning wide at the Imperial. He didn't notice his own ridiculous smile. "Of course for that sort of thing I would need to be married. Jedi code and such."

Not that I've been entirely faithful to the code as of late.

The thought struck him for a moment. He fell entirely silent as he forced himself to mull it over. Recent activities had made him waver somewhat - he was quick to anger, dismissive of those who spoke out against him, to quick to turn to violence when resolving issues. He would need to return to Ossus and work out those issues, then he could be free once more.

"To be honest...I worry about myself as of late. I'm not acting like a Jedi should. Too brash, too violent, too arrogant. I want to end this war as soon as possible, but I'm starting to feel like the drastic methods I've been forced to use aren't...right." He admitted, a heavy sigh escaping him.

[member="Cyrene Miles"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

Her nebulous maybe idea about future kids was suddenly solidified by his grin. The ide of marriage may've sent the slightest of thrills through her, stolid or not she was still female and had had a few littel girl dreams the same as everyone else. Though to her mind living together and having kids together was a much bigger commitment than marriage.

Well, guess I'm havin' one or two kids. Lucky I ain't too concerned about stretch marks'n th'like!

This wasn't accompanied by any epiphanies or sudden shifts in opinion or personality, it was just another step put into the process that her life could be broken down into. Serve the Empire. Serve the People. End the War. Find a home with Cyril. Get Married. Have Kids. Make a Life. Live. Eventually Die. Easy, though the order wasn't necessarily set and some of the steps might overlap. Just one thing after another.

Her brows drew together momentarily at his next words. She weighed and considered them before responding. It was interesting that, even for this man, she didn't respond to comfort and reassure him immediately. If he was worried there was likely a reason. She considered his actions in the time she'd known him.

"Well. I don't reckon I know how a Jedi oughta act, so I can't say much t'that. I do reckon you're a good man though Cyril Grayson. I ain't seen y'bein particularly brash or arrogant. Some of your plans ain't as well thought out as they could be, but I guess this is 'cause you're makin' 'em on th'fly and since y'ain't workin' with professionals y'need a lot of wiggle room. As for violent.. Y'wanted t'leave alive a Sith that saw a bunch of men killed just so as he could trick you down into a hole. Reckon y'could've been a little more violent that day."

It was important to remember that this woman, for all that she was caring and idealistic, was also a sniper. She killed people for a living. She very calmly and methodically lined up her sights, and extinguished sentient lives, and if she did it well enough, they never even knew it was coming.

"I wouldn't marry a bad man though, and I aim t'marry you. So y'must be fine."

Now, now that she'd thought it through and answered him she moved forward into him once more, one hand wrapping around to cradle the back of his head and pull him down closer to her, the other finding it's way around him to rest on his back, comforting, reassuring.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

I aim t'marry you.

Well that hit like a truck. Cyril fell silent as he was pulled into her embrace. Such unions were not uncommon among the Order as of late. Jedi could settle down if they so had the desire - but there was a war going on. Could he put down everything he was doing and run off with Cyrene? Forsake his duty to the Order for her?

"That a proposal?" He asked quietly, arm snaking around her waist. The motion was as natural as breathing for him at this point. He mulled over his thoughts in quiet silence for a moment, blue eyes staring down into hers. Was this the right course of action? His mother would certainly be pleased.

Or outraged that he hadn't married into nobility. It didn't matter.

"If so then...I accept."

He pressed his lips to her brow, and squeezed his eyes shut. If they were going to do this, it would be done right. He would go before the council and express his desire to marry. They would, of course, allow it. He'd served them his entire adult life after all.

"Once we've found a moment of peace...then we can make it official."

[member="Cyrene Miles"]

 

[Cyrene Miles]

Boy howdy, I guess I done 'nd accidentally proposed. Well. Saves time doin' it later I s'pose, 'nd at least he said yes!

She hadn't really meant now. But it was done and he'd taken it that way and since it fit into the process she'd decided her life was going to take why fuss about it? There were concerns of course, that she pushed away. It wasn't that worst case scenarios didn't occur to Cyrene, they did all the time. But beyond avoiding them or dealing with them when they happened, if you couldn't control them, she didn't bother herself over them. So yes, it did occur to her that if one of them should die in the upcoming battle, quite possible, maybe even likely, it was now going to be extra tragic, but they were going to fight anyway. They would do their best to win, and barring that to survive, and if one of them didn't.. Well then that was how it would be and whoever was left would have to go on. That was just life. She knew most people worried more than she did. Some significantly so. On the rare occasions she'd thought about it, she'd reflected on how crippling such worries must be, and wondered how they got by.

"Well, I guess we're really goin' t'have t'wipe th'floor with that Sith now. Get this planet proper on it's feet and set th'Rebellion in full swing. B'fore they were just morally in th'wrong, now they're in th'way of my frilly dress."

She teased, before adding gravely

"That were a joke, I ain't wearin' no frilly dresses. They don't make no sense."

Don't misunderstand, Cyrene had several fairly simple dresses in her wardrobe, but the little she'd seen since signing up of Galactic High Fashion both confused and baffled her. And she was quite sure you couldn't deal with rustlers nor track down wayward calves while wearing it if you had to.

[member="Cyril Grayson"]

 

[Placeholder 04]

Frilly dresses?

Cyril lofted a brow, and shrugged. He didn't see Cyrene as the big fancy party type. That was fine with him. Given his mother's position and the people she surrounded herself with, he was quite alright with a much less-high maintenance partner. Of course, even if Cyrene was that way, it would not have changed anything.

"It's a plan then." He snickered, pressing a kiss upon her. It was a short thing, a preceptor of what was to come were she to stay the evening.

"We'll leave Balmorra once the revolution is kicked off. I'll take you to meet the family, we'll be married, and then we go to..." He gave a moment's pause. There were a thousand worlds they could go to - which one would work?

"Could go to Taanab if you want. There's also a world on the fringe of the galaxy, safe place called Crystalsong. The war will never touch it."

Another pause. He gazed down at Cyrene, a this woman whom he intended to spend the rest of his life with. The gateway to another world; one where blood was not currency and war was not an everyday activity. The words came easy.

"I love you."

[member="Cyrene Miles"]