"My family are all Silvers- and those who aren't force sensitive, devout Concordians. We were from Mirial, and when it was subjugated, we fled. The Silvers took us in with open arms, resettled us. When the Elder Compact thing happened, it didn't sit right with me, despite all my family owed them. My father is a politican. He said I couldn't understand the threat of the Bryn'adul at my age, the need to align with the Empire. I was only starting my learnings then, but I knew what was right, and that... wasn't."
She shook her head weakly, her father's cold word ringing in her ears.
"I've always been empathic- they called it a gift when I was a little kid, said I could use it to help change the galaxy. But that gift was a double edged sword when the force wounds started to happen. I was far away, but it was like a faint cry, all the lives lost letting out their final breathe to make sure everyone knew of the atrocities."
Xashe glanced over, a faint drip heard from one of the tunnels that peeled off, but no source could be found in the darkness.
"Then, time and time again, they were too weak to defend their people. My dad made sure our home was evacuated before it was lost to the front- but all the neighbors, the kids I grew up with on the estate... they weren't lucky like I was. And instead of asking the people that could help," She gestured to Rhis, referencing the Alliance and their allies. "They let politics rule them. They turned to the Sith, and in turn, vowed to aid them. You can't fight evil with evil- because one will be left standing, and then you're faced with the same problems again."
She grimaced, looking back to Rhis.
"So I left, to do what I thought was right- knowing I could only choose my own way, and hope my family would find theirs."
