Not What the Galaxy Needs
9 ABY,
Coruscant
Featuring: Mireille Nem & Mikruul Eroun
Written by: Chris CHA
“For someone who claims to hate responsibility, you seem hell-bent on going back so soon,” Mikruul Eroun was the first to break the silence.
“For the last time, I’m not keen on heading back to Coruscant,” Mireille Nem countered. “And I don’t like having responsibility,” she added with an annoyed breath, “but it’s not a matter of what I want at this point.”
“Sure it is. You could simply let things play out; trust that your allies in the senate will be able to carry on without you for a couple more days.” The corners of Mik’s lips curled with satisfaction as he received an icy glare of distilled irritation. He was careful not to make eye contact until she relented a second later.
“Ackbar’s going to need every bit of support with the current projections. I can only do so much from home with how kriffing competitive everyone’s campaigns have been.” Miri’s brows furled into a slight frown, “I don’t know how that blasted mutt is doing it, but Fey’lya’s somehow running on the same platform that he was six years ago and it’s working.” She threw out an arm in exasperation, “It’s as if the galaxy forgot what the Empire was — is.”
“It’s not that they forgot,” Mik responded with contrasting composure, “it’s that they want to forget.”
“It’s easy for the people in the core to forget when everything’s happening on the fringes. The people out there haven’t forgotten.” She sighed, “Every month I hear reports of systems getting hit by pirates, imps, or both. Every time it happens we’re reacting; we send aid and relief efforts after the fact, but we’re doing nothing proactive. We haven’t taken the initiative, and there’s always a convenient excuse. ‘Our forces are stretched thin in that sector protecting key hyperlanes’, or, here’s a laughable one, ‘They’re not a member of the Republic.’” She gave a scornful laugh, “As if it didn’t take half a decade to get re-admitted into the Republic, let alone join as a new member.”
“Yet, it’s far better than it was six years ago.”
“Is it?”
“It is.” Mik turned to Miri, gesturing to the flourishing garden they had been walking through. “As bad as things are, they could be much worse.”
“And that’s what I’m afraid of,” Miri responded solemnly.
“What I’m afraid of is you being totally consumed by this sense of responsibility you have to the rest of the galaxy,” Mik chastised. “You’ve neglected every other obligation you held because of it. What happened to your deal with the Jedi?”
“I’ve told you, it didn’t work out,” her scowl returned. “I kept getting dragged away; politics started to come into play. Eventually things came to a head and I picked the Republic. Simple as that.”
Mik pressured further, “And what about the Mandalorians? Ever since you took office, you’ve neglected relations with them.”
“They’re fine. Besides they have Nogru guiding them through these times. If anything they’re benefitting from being separated from most of the Republic drama.”
“And what of here, back home? You are the Duchess of Serenno, without a spouse, without an heir.”
“Succession passes to my sister should that remain the case.”
“And it’s going to remain the case if you keep pushing away anyone that tries to get close.”
Miri’s face went pale, and then a shade of red. Her palm came up to her face as if to hide it, “Listen, Mik, what happened was—”
“A mistake,” the Count’s expression never broke. “That’s not what I meant, Miri. I meant that it seems you never healed, and that worries me.”
“It’s been seven years,” she paused, “that’s been more than enough time to heal…”
“Has it? Because ‘that’ wouldn’t have happened if that was the case,” he turned to her, his eyes piercing through the hand acting as cover. A moment passed before he shook his head and eased off. “That's Water under the bridge as far as I’m concerned. There’s no bad blood between us.” An olive branch extended itself in the form of a melancholic smile, “We’re even bickering like we used to a long time ago. I’m sure he’d break us up and calm you down with that lovey-dovey talk he always did.”
“He’d be proud of you, you know,” Miri lowered her hand.
“I don’t give a fark if he is,” he chuckled, “he still left me with this house to run — and believe me, I never asked for it.”
“You know he would’ve taken it back after the war if you didn’t want it.”
“I know,” he sighed. “I know now why he left, and ultimately, I’m thankful for the few extra years of peace I got to enjoy before getting wrapped in the war. I just wish he would’ve explained it better when he did.”
“You know better than I do that explaining things wasn’this specialty.”
“No, it wasn’t. But I’d have probably spent a lot less time resenting him, and more time preparing for the storm he saw first.” His smile brightened out of its melancholy, “Bold of you to assume that I knew him better than you.”
“You were his literal brother, Mik.”
“Yet he spent the latter half of his life with you,” he chuckled. “I don’t know how you managed to take that bookworm and turn him into a vigilante, but he wasn’t the same when he came back to visit after that one semester. He was neverthe same.” He gave a satisfied deep breath, “If there’s anyone he’d be proud of, it’d be you, Miri.”
“There’s not much to be proud of so far,” she mumbled.
Mik gave a solid, knuckled shove towards Miri’s shoulder, “See, this is what I mean about your grief. Once in a while I get to see the old Miri, but it’s rare nowadays. Now it’s all business. It’s always about the Republic; it’s always about the galaxy.”
The pair neared the end of the garden. Their path had led to a massive open area surrounded by open grass and short foliage. At its center was a CR90 corvette, its ramp down with several people gathered around it. Guards stood at attention to the flanks of the ramp itself. A nobly dressed woman with a passing resemblance to the Duchess stood waiting at the base of it. Miri halted for a moment. She brushed off the impacted shoulder before giving a brief wave of acknowledgement to the distant gathering. The woman at the ramp gave a nod and retreated up the ramp, the guards followed suit. Miri and Mik proceeded past the corvette as its ramp began to close, instead approaching an X-Wing that lay close by.
A white and gold astromech gleamed in its recently polished shell. It was already seated behind the cockpit of the fighter. He lit up and greeted the pair as they neared — pleasant chirps to the Duchess; low, drawn out tones to the Count.
“All warmed up, Rio?” Miri asked. Her hand gripped the base of the ladder mounted on the side of the fighter.
Rio gave a melodic high-pitched twirp in response.
“Good to hear,” she smiled back. She began patting down her belt and pockets with her free hand. What was at first a calm set of motions became a frantic search all over her person, “Where did—?”
“Looking for this?” Mik held out a curved, silver hilt decorated with a vine-like engraving that characterized the grip point. Miri looked up and passed a leery look to him. “What?” he asked with a smug grin. “You’re the one who left your laser sword at my table during breakfast. You’re lucky I found it; someone could’ve gotten hurt.”
The hilt shot out of his hand and sailed right into Miri’s. She secured it onto her belt. “It’s a lightsaber,” she corrected as she climbed into the cockpit.
Mik stood to the side, one hand on his hip, holding the edge of his cloak. “Listen, I’m not saying to pretend that everything’s hunky-dory. But I’m sure Max would be happy to see the girl he met show her face again.”
“She’s… not what the galaxy needs...” Miri began to flip a few switches. The cockpit began to lower. “But who knows…?”
The wash of the repulsors began blowing back any loose leaves still scattered on the ground. Mik gripped his cloak a little tighter to keep a hold of it. He squinted, protecting his eyes from the rushing air and the newly arrived rising sun. The cool hue that had colored the garden gave way to a warm, golden glow. The fighter gracefully lifted from the ground. Mikruul never took his eyes off the cockpit. Miri seemed ever so occupied even there, as she usually was. But, for a brief moment she turned to Mik. A bright, self-assured smile and a cheeky wink came his way. She pulled off, climbing to join the corvette and the other escorting fighter into the clouds.
“There she is.”