#he takes eshka there once or twice

[impossible-rat-babies]

I’m thinking about my worldstate rn

[naerwenia]

A Moment of Quiet Reflection

A short moment from the life of Eshka Kith’lya, a Bothan doctor and a representative for The Sword of Truth, a former rebel group turned into a political party after a war. Based on a Star Wars RPG campaign I’m part of.

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Eshka was lounging on the uncomfortable Imperial-design chair in Avalon, trying to relax, trying to forget everything for a second. Captain Selina Katarn was having her second of forgetting, purging some memories from her mind with alcohol, just like Eshka did most of the time. Today, she had stuff to do, yet not enough to keep her mind from wandering. Five years had gone by in a blink of an eye, the war was over, there was a republic now, and her side had won, everything was like what she fought for, yet there was an emptiness in her. There was no way to pinpoint if it was the five years she lost while in the Dark Cluster, or if it was the sudden calmness in the Galaxy. Maybe it was the fact she didn’t know what had happened to most of Flying Brick’s crew, or that she was now the Commander of the Wraith Fleet, someone with responsibility and authority. No matter how skilled she was at commanding, Eshka was still a doctor first and foremost. She had a card that said so, it had her whole name on it! Eshka Kith’lya, Imperial Medical Academy graduate, medical license, issued in Coruscant. Kith’lya… She tried to remember anyone with the same name, yet came up with hazy voices and even hazier memories of some Bothans that may have been her parents, or her relative who she had called in the middle of the night out of nowhere, curious, but had realized immediately that it was a mistake, she didn’t want to be in touch with them, she didn’t know them. There was no need for her to mix them in her life. They were better off knowing nothing of her. She was better off not having feelings for her family, relatives, and clan. She was better off not knowing or feeling anything that might put others in danger, even her former enemy (maybe they were still enemies, maybe not, there was no way to know with Mr. Valden) had chosen to keep her safe seemingly. 

Eshka sighed loudly, but not anywhere close to loud enough to wake Captain Katarn. Selina had lost her pride and joy, twice, now permanently. First when Bob took it with Eshka in it (it must have been a mistake, an accident), now in an unavoidable collision to kill a god. She lost Flying Brick with it’s crew, then had to find a way back home from the Dark Cluster, but without her ship, who was she? Was she still a captain? What was her home, where was it? Eshka asked them in her mind, maybe in part to ask the same questions of herself. She was the representative of Sword of Truth, she had helped them win the war against Aries V2, even if only by providing intelligence. Yet now she didn’t know what the Sword of Truth represented. They had been there to rebuild the galactic senate, working with the remnants of the Imperium and the Hutt Coalition to establish a working alliance, all things Eshka appreciated, but she didn’t know if this was what she wanted. Actually being a senator and not a rebel escalating riots to revolutions would be weird. Helping people to establish local governments to take care of their communities was what she was good at, not actual politics. She was an orator, an agitator. She advocated equality and more grassroots decision making, and while representative democracy might be a good start, she wasn’t ready for it, and she couldn’t say why. The change was so sudden for her, even if it wasn’t for most of the Galaxy, and she felt like she had to change herself to make sure she could continue her mission. Others in the Wraith Fleet relied on her to be the moral backbone of the group. 

Who was she? Where did she belong? How fucked was she? Was there a way back? Gree’s used a different way of travelling through galaxies and time, it had helped Wraith back from the Dark Cluster, maybe there was a way to go back so she could just be a doctor. A nurse would be fine too, so she didn’t have to run away anymore. There was a simple way of life, the life Grambo the Hutt had chosen for her. All she had to do was be the best in her field, to be his eyes and ears when he needed them in Coruscant. The thought somehow filled her with even more emptiness and hollow sadness. There was nothing there, no feelings any way. Just hollowness. She finally realized she had lived there mostly on autopilot. Wake up, go to work, get back home, have a drink, go to sleep. Sometimes there were parties or balls and she had to go find the important faces, flirt, drink, make promises, and listen. Observe and try to fit in. Never make a scene, but have everyone remember you. A slight feeling of fondness was there, a flash of a memory, something long forgotten, yet tangible she could almost touch. Twinkling lights, clinking of crystal glasses, smell of champagne and expensive perfumes, music filling the hall, the feel of light, red chiffon on her tense skin, unsure expression on her face that soon turned to a smile, a sweet smile only for the one who had taken her hand in theirs. A soft, cooling wind, far away stars looking down on her, laughter and music fading into the distance, her heart beating faster, as she remembered how scared she was, how Mr. Babe had angrily grabbed her wrist and dragged her away. She didn’t understand why, only knowing she had to be more careful.

There was something cruel in the fact she knew how to use the names of others’ to get what she wanted. Grambo the Hutt, The Imperial Medical Academy, Sword of Truth… But her own name was meaningless. No one knew it, sometimes she forgot it herself in favour of the names of others. Then she only represented that group, she wasn’t herself, only an extension of the group, but now she was the face of the Wraith Fleet, and she was one of those who made the squadron, not just an extension. This was what she advocated for, yet Eshka felt uncomfortable. Individuals being equal, everyone having a voice that was heard, freedom to be who they are. It’s what she believed, fought for, and when they achieved a sort of unity, Eshka’s vision lacked the next step, the road to keeping up the new status quo, helping other planets structure their governments to be more democratic, and hearing out the complaints and wishes of people all around the Galaxy, striving to better the life of all. But to achieve this, Eshka had to take her place, to command and influence. Others believed in her, they had faith in her abilities, so why was it so hard for her to see herself doing that? Maybe it was the fact she was still in debt to a Hutt, and not only in money, but in spirit too. He had made her. Grambo had given her life. The Hutt had given her everything she could have asked for; education, place in high society, luxury, security. Gratitude wasn’t enough to describe her feelings for him, yet she had thrown it all away one night, and there was no way back, no matter how she pleaded. That door was now closed, she couldn’t go back, so she kept running, making decisions on the whim. This wasn’t the way she wanted to live, yet it felt like the only way. Fear kept her running, afraid to stop and see where she had ended up. 

At the moment she had slowed down to look around. There was Selina, Avalon, a game table Dei was so fond of, the smell of a ship where too many people had to spend a lot of time together, the feel of steel under Eshka’s fingers. The holopad was on a chair next to her, still downloading some files related to the news of the last five years. Rest of the crew were out, looking for parts for a droid and commissioning a blueprint for a new ship, something she still couldn’t quite wrap her head around. A new ship just for their crew, and it was built just for them from the ground up (and higher). There were things to do, Eshka thought, and picked up the holopad to occupy her mind once again.