Teiran
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A random bit of writing
🕑 Added 2018-10-26 18:29:21 +0000 UTC Hey there guys! So, in still working in this month's high school days post, and I'm hoping to get it done this weekend, but I thought I would post something completely Random for you here.I wrote this as something to share with my the fellow players in a long running Star Wars RPG game I've been playing in for a couple years now. My character Michael is a mirilan Jedi (think space orc) who grew up an orphan with a mentor during the rise if the empire. Which is probably enough context to vaguely enjoy this random thing I wrote for the game.
Universe: Star Wars, Empire Strikes Back era.
***
Michael spent more time worrying about how he could make the message to his mother than about what he was going to say.
The words would be easy, even if they were certainly not going to be easy words. The problem was that recording a clean Holo message without giving anything away about the Redeemer or the damage it had sustained during the sabotage was surprisingly difficult to do.
Especially given the fact that the room Michael bunked in had been... singed. It was comparably light damage to the rest of the deck. The bulk head hadn't actually melted All the way through, just warped and rippled. But still, a blast scarred room wasn't the right venue for this message.
In the end, he decided to make the recording in his bunkroom on the Peragrin. It made the most sense, as he still had some personal effects there, and a large digital picture of the hidden valley on Tanaab programmed into the wallscreen that he could use as a backdrop.
The mirilan fiddled with the little recorder, smiling a bit sadly as he set it up. He wish this could be done in person, but thatvwould take too much time to arrange, and she'd sent him one. He had no idea how long it would take to see her in person and it would be rude not to reply. The recorder clicked on.
***
The green skinned mirilian male in the video looked confident and handsome. Shockingly so, with a charming face and a smile that could twist hearts. He wore a simple open shirt and slacks, and folded his hands in his lap after brushing a lock of long black hair back to his ponytail. His skin was smooth and unmarked. In fact, there were none of the traditional tattoos visible on his green skin. Not one, a shocking thing for a male of 25.
"Hello Mother, my name is Michael. That was the name my mentor gave me ages ago, and it is the only name I have ever known until today."
The young man gave a sad smile, "I'm sorry we have to meet this way, by disconnected holo-vid, but I got your message and I did not want to leave you wondering if I had seen it. And it was so good to see you, to know that you are alive, and that you care for me." The young man's voice was earnist, but remained light and careful, as if leaving out a great deal. "I don't know the details of how I left you and came under my mentor's protection. I was too young to remember, and she never told me the details." A sigh, and the young man's face went solemn.
"I am sorry that I never asked her for them, but once I was old enough to ask that sort of question, I was also old enough to know that the answers would be dangerous." The young man's face is stoic, a touch of cold confidence in his eyes. "Not just dangerous for me, but for you as well. So be careful about who sees this recording Mother. For your own sake as well as mine. Even this has enough for some to want to see you dead."
Michael's young face was thoughtful as he paused for a moment, thinking, his fingers playing with something small on a necklace, careful to keep whatever it was hidden from the recording holo. "I'm not sure what I should say to you Jivan, when you cannot easily reply. If I were there, I would simply embrace you. I could hold you and dry your tears as you cried out some portion of the grief you must have felt all these years, thinking that I was dead, but not knowing for sure. If we were in the same room, I could be a rock for you to cling to in that sadness, because I have no sorrow in my heart about the life I led since we parted mother. You said that I was loved Jivan, and I was." The young man's voice went scratchy for a moment, face smiling still but showing a wound, and looking so much younger than before.
"Every day, I was cared for by my mentor. Every day, Alena was there for me. Protecting me. Teaching me. Training me so I could protect myself and others. But most importantly, every day she made sure that I knew I was loved. That she cared for me, even in her own quiet, and stoic way."
Michael shook his head, not speaking for a moment. How did you explain being able to sense the emotions of a person, especially of a parent? He'd spent so many years knowing with absolute certainty that his mentor had loved him, in her own quiet and calm way. Michael shook his head and looked up at the ceiling.
"Her name was Alena, and I'd like to think you would have gotten along with her mother. She got along with almost everyone at some level, and she cared for me as her adopted son as much as you care for me."
A long pause followed, before Michael's face brightened a little, the charm coming back to his eyes as he turned to happier memories.
"I grew up on Tanaab, which was really a beautiful place to grow up. We lived in a little valley several miles past the outskirts of a small city." The young man looked over his shoulder at the image or a fertile and Green valley, though it was not the one they'd actually lived in. He'd decided to use another valley, just to be safe. "We had a little farm with Banu grain, and I grew up raising goats and orrachs. They're friendly beasts, far better than most, and I was never lonely in the little hidden mountain valley where we lived. I wish I could tell you all about it. I will when I see you in the flesh one day. It will be like catching up with the townsfolk ever harvest season when we'd go into the town to sell the extra grain and yearlings." The young man's smile was bright as he remembered. "I know now I was raised with more tenderness and more care than most in this cold galaxy ever had. I had a quiet home, as much food as I could eat, an adopted mother who was a far better soul then most, and I was safe. And you know better than most how rare a commodity safety and security have been after the fall of the republic."
Michael lost the whistfully farm boy tone, and turned serious. "I don't know how much you know of the hidden events of those days mother, or what you'll think of this, but Alena was a Jedi. One of the last of the order, and perhaps the last who still claimed membership in their ranks. She took me and hid me away because I am sensitive to the Force, very sensitive to it, and from very young age. I don't know what you believe about the Force Jivan, but it is real, and Alena was a good mentor in it's ways."
"She trained me well, and thanks to her I now have a much deep connection to the Force then I did even back then. I used it to helped free my homeworld at the Battle of Tanaab." The mirilan's face was one of pride now, and he lifted his shirt sleeve to show a tattoo, the only visible ink on his body. It was a brilliant and beautiful tattoo of Tanaab, done in swirling clouds of blue and green. There were details about the tattoo which were impossible to make out, as they had been digitally removed from the holo. "Twice, in fact, I was at both Battles, and in a much more... prominant role the second time."
Michael paused, considering what he needed to tell her next.
"You need to know mother, that my connection to the Force has consequences for you now that we've made contact. I have powerful enemies because of my link to the force, and even more enemies now that I have joined the Rebellion." The young man sounded amused as he went on, "Yes, I know, foolish and dangerous, getting mixed with with rebel and smugglers and such, but I suppose I'm following in your footsteps there. But, unless I stayed in my little mountain valley, there was no way for my life to be a safe or easy one, and I could not stand by and leave my friends undefended." Michael smiled calmly, putting his hand over where the covered tattoo was in the way you'd put a hand over your heart. "Not after being sheltered by someone like Alena for so long. Now I am the one who does the protecting."
Michael pressed his hands together and tapped the ends of his fingers against his lips, thinking hard, a long silence stretching out before he spoke again.
"In your message, you told me the name you gave me. For now though I am still just Michael. I have never had a proper surname mother. We changed our surname when we moved, and we never used Alena's. Too much risk involved. If you know her full name, you should be careful about speaking it too. Alena may be gone now, she..." Michael's voice cracked slightly, showing a flash if the pain so deep inside him, "She died defending me, but to speak about her in a message like this could draw a terrible danger to you, and I do not wish for that to happen. In the same way, using your name would bring me danger as well. We are not the only members of our family who survived the Clone Wars in secret, so please be careful mother." Michael's face is a mask of concern and careful calculation as he decided what he ciuld say, and finally he shakes his head in frustration. "I'm sorry Jivan, I don't think I can say more. But I know what this means to you, and I thank you for telling me. For now, I am your loving son Michael."
"I look forward to one day meeting you for real Jivan, and hugging the mother I never knew. I will try to make that happen as soon as we can." The young man smiles, broadly and with real happiness at the thought, even though his eyes are a bit sad, before the holo fades out.
