Cerys was enjoying the guessing game she had Iz playing. She was working on a broken piece of equipment in the kitchen when he sat across from her, looking very analytical.

"Cameron."

She laughed, "No. It's better guess than yesterday though."

"You didn't like Charlotte?"

She rolled her eyes, "Do I really look like I'd have a name like that?"

He shrugged, "Maybe? I'm trying to get into the mind of your father… he doesn't strike me as the type to go too over the top with a name. It's got to be something very traditional."

"You're fishing for hints…"

"Maybe."

She grinned at him, "Well, I'll give you a hint then: My father didn't name me."

He frowned. "Well that's an awful hint. You've just made my name pool so much bigger. At least tell me who did name you?"

"My mother."

"And she didn't give your father a say?"

"Oh… that's a story for another time."

"I feel like in light of this new information I should get another guess for today."

"Nope. That's not how this game works."

They talked for some time, then he disappeared to help Mika with something. She continued working on the equipment and lost track of time, only realizing she'd been working for several hours when exhaustion started to tug at her mind. She cleaned everything up and made her way down the hallway, heading back to her room for some sleep. Mila came down the ladder at the end of the hallway and stopped when she saw her.

"There you are. I've been looking for you." She had a satchel at her side.

"I've been distracted with a project, sorry. Do you need something?"

Mila hesitated. "I want you to come with me on a quick outing."

"Oh?" Cerys already liked the idea. This trip was turning out to be something of an adventure. "Where are we going?"

Mila shook her head. "Just… a sort of errand. Come with me."

Cerys followed her down the corridor to the pod, a small ship attached to the side of theirs for a few individuals to use on short outings. They hopped in and Mila programmed the coordinates into the console.

"How long is this going to take?"

"Maybe three hours. Not long. Most of it will be travel time."

Outside the small window of the pod, Cerys could see they were close to a small, snowy looking planet, dotted with dark spots where there were small cities. "That's where we're going?"

Mila nodded, "Yes."

"It looks cold… should I have brought a coat?"

Mila pulled Cerys' green woolen coat from her satchel, "I thought ahead." She tossed it to the girl, along with her hat. "Have you ever been to a planet where it snows all the time?"

"No, at least not that I remember. I do like snow though." She smiled, "This should be fun."

Mila inhaled deeply and reclined in her seat. "Right."

She was quiet for most of the trip; she seemed distracted by her thoughts. Cerys tried to make small talk with her, but she didn't even answer half the time. It was very odd behavior for Mila, who was usually quite talkative.

The ship landed right outside a small village and they got out. It was cold, very cold, but it didn't seem to faze Mila much. Maybe because she was so distracted. They walked into the village. Mila appeared to know where she was going. There were very few people on the streets, which Cerys assumed was normal for such a cold planet.

Mila huffed, her breath gathering around her face, "Cerys… I need you to do me a favor."

"Hm?"

She stopped and looked at her. They stood in front of a large, brick home. Somebody was inside – the chimney was smoking. Mila looked almost scared.

"I need you to not talk."

"Are we visiting someone?"

"Yes."

"Who?" Cerys was suddenly very suspicious of Mila's behavior. Something was off, she was behaving so strangely.

Mila's mouth twisted, like she didn't want to say. "It's… just… Look, you'll figure it out pretty quickly. Just please, do me a favor and let me do the talking. At least, let me do the talking until I'm done talking. Then you can say whatever you need to."

Cerys frowned, "Mila… where are we?"

Mila didn't answer, she just headed to the front door and knocked. A middle aged woman answered. "Can I help you?"

"Yes, we're here to see Locke."

The woman looked at them skeptically. "And… you are?"

"You know I'm actually here as a surprise, can you just tell him he has a guest?"

She raised an eyebrow, "A surprise?"

"Yes… we're old acquaintances. He'll recognize me."

"Right… well. Hold on a moment please."

The woman didn't invite them in. They stood out in the cold while she disappeared back into the house.

A few moments later, the woman returned. "I'm sorry, Mr. Locke is feeling a little under the weather at the moment. He's not taking guests." She started to shut the door on them but Mila stopped her.

"Wait wait wait, this really is very important. Can we just see him for a few moments?"

"Excuse me? I don't know who you think you are…"

"He can't be that sick, can he? Too sick to meet with an old friend?"

"Yes, as I said, he is not taking any guests."

"Well that just won't do. We traveled quite some time to see him… Can't you please…"

"Miss." The woman spoke in a stern tone. "Please leave, now."

"No, you see we aren't leaving…"

"What is going on out here Maise? Are these people really too much for you to handle?" A very old man came to the door, shooing the woman away. He was very tall, with broad shoulders and strikingly good posture despite his age.

Mila grinned next to her, a toothy grin that looked downright vicious. "Ah, there he is."

The old man shook his head, "I don't know you. You can kindly leave…"

Mila pushed harder against the door, an effort that he halted easily. Cerys was surprised by his strength, despite his age.

"It's Brendol, correct?"

His expression barely changed, but briefly read surprise. "Who are you?"

She ignored his question. "Why don't you let us come in?"

"And why would I do that?"

"Because I know exactly who you are and I won't hesitate to let the entire galaxy know if you don't give us just 10 minutes of your time."

His nostrils flared slightly and he stepped back, allowing them in. "Very well. To my study."

They followed him through the house. It was spacious, filled with fire places and heavy leather chairs and bookshelves. It felt empty to Cerys. She pulled off her hat and played with it, a little nervous. She didn't like that Mila left her in the dark as to what was going on.

They reached the study and the old man went to a leather chair behind a desk, but didn't sit. When he turned to them, he looked at Cerys with his eyebrows knitted for a moment. She ran her hand through her hair. She'd never been fond of tying it back like most women seemed to find fashionable. Unfortunately, because it was curly it generally had a mind of its own, particularly after it'd been under a hat for any amount of time.

"Well, shut the door already. Let's discuss whatever it is you've interrupted me with."

Mila pushed the door shut with an air of carelessness. "You know, I wasn't sure what to expect… It's funny, I've been going over and over what I'd say in this situation for years. The past few days I've been doing nothing but coming up with scripts in my head." She shook her head, walking forward to the opposite side of the desk, "Now that I'm here, I've completely forgotten everything I came up with."

"Convenient. Does that mean you won't be wasting more of my time?"

She knocked on the desk, "Trust me, Brendol, I am not wasting anyone's time right now."

"Well, do get on with it then."

She inhaled deeply, "My name is Mila Volkov, and I have loved your son more than anything in my life."

Cerys couldn't stop an "OH" from escaping her mouth. She covered her mouth.

The man gave a sharp inhale, looking irritated more than anything. "Volkov you said? You must be one of the Ysookian rulers that disappeared years ago. I'm not all that surprised Armitage ended up with a woman from Ysook … he was always a bit weak willed, and your people have quite the reputation."

Mila let out a "Ha." Cerys was fairly certain he'd just insulted her, but didn't quite understand what the insult was.

"I suppose it was a good move on his behalf to at least attach himself to someone with royal lineage."

Mila shook her head, "You are just as charming as I'd imagined." She jerked her thumb at Cerys, "This is your granddaughter."

The old man looked at her. For a very brief moment, she swore she saw surprise on his face. "I assume she isn't yours? She looks far too old. Then again… maybe that wouldn't have been a problem for you? I know your culture is fairly open to those sort of things…"

"She's not." Mila cut him off flatly.

For a second, she thought he might come around the desk to her. He turned like meant to, then stopped. "What's your name?"

She hesitated for a moment, remembering Mila had asked her not to speak. She was still quite taken aback by this whole encounter. Armitage had never spoken of his father before. She didn't even know the man was alive. "Cerys. It's Cerys."

He barely nodded, looking away from her. "I assume you being here means Armitage is alive?"

Cerys went to Mila's side, wanting to get a closer look at her grandfather. The old man took a slight step back as she approached.

"Do you actually care?" Mila was fuming. She tended to have a short temper, but this was something different. She was simmering, looking something between furious and disgusted.

The old man didn't respond.

Mila inhaled deeply again, "You know, prior to this very moment, this girl had no idea you even existed. He's never even spoken of you."

He looked down his nose at her.

"I've managed to pry out bits and pieces from him over the years. Enough that I have a decent picture of the sort of man you are." She paused for a moment, "Armitage doesn't know we're here."

Cerys looked at her. She didn't know that. She'd just assumed…

Mila continued on casually, "I think he hoped you'd die alone, never having known your lineage isn't actually dying out." She stopped again, inhaling. Cerys got the impression she kept breathing deeply to try to control her anger. "I decided it was better for her to know about you."

Cerys was completely floored by Mila's admission. She wasn't sure what made Mila think any of this would be okay. Not that she was ungrateful – she was fascinated by the old man and wanted to know more. But if Armitage had deliberately told her he didn't want to come visit, his request should have been honored.

Mila leaned forward, her fists on the desk. "This girl would make you - yes even you - proud to be related to her. She's clever, loyal, wise years beyond her age, and tough as fucking nails. She does not have your last name, and she never will. She does not support the Empire or the First Order, and she never will. In fact, she spent most of her early childhood being raised by the Republic."

The old man's face twitched.

"She will not remember you. You will die here, by yourself in the next few months, and you will be forgotten. And your legacy will be left in the hands of a young woman who couldn't give a fuck less about you or any of the things you spent your life trying to build." Mila's voice was shaking; Cerys could't quite tell if she was near tears or if she was that angry. Maybe a little of both. She ran her hand over her mouth, thinking for a moment. "You… You disgusting excuse for a parent… you had an amazing, brilliant son and you saw him as nothing more than a fucking test subject and a punching bag that you had some godlike level of control over. As far as I am concerned, when he gave the order to fire that weapon it was your doing. That blood… that is on your hands. The things you put him through… you are a fucking monster." She paused, shaking her head. "Over the past years, I have grown to love your son more than anything. It… it is completely crushing to me to think that I might be the first person to have loved him."

She stepped back from the desk, wiping her face quickly and cursing. She glared at the old man, "You want to talk about failure? Everything you have dedicated your life to – the Empire, the Order – has been destroyed. Your only heir was raised by the people you despise, and holds no ill will against them whatsoever. You will have no legacy, and you will die here, alone, and you will be forgotten."

She snatched her satchel from the chair and stormed off toward the door.

"Mila…"

"You do what you want. I am done here." She left, slamming the door shut behind her.

Cerys turned back to the man. His expression didn't appear to have changed. She peered closely at him, and he took another step back.

"I have never seen her rail into someone like that before… something tells me she may have been justified in her behavior."

The old man looked at her, down his nose.

"I can think of so many questions I'd really love to ask you…" She thought for a moment, considering her options. "The thing is I think my father could answer most of them. If that is the case, then I owe it to him to get answers from him. But I am curious… why do you think my father didn't want to come see you?"

"Armitage has always been a bit… sensitive."

She tilted her head, "Is that what you think? I've certainly never thought of him that way." She looked at the old man. She wasn't sure what she would have expected of Armitage's father. She'd never really thought of it. He had the same impeccable posture, the same eyes. He was much more guarded than Armitage, though she supposed Armitage behaved differently around her than other people. And he seemed much less… polite. Not that Armitage was polite by any stretch of the imagination.

"You didn't answer Mila's question earlier… Do you care that he's alive?"

He didn't answer for a few moments. The silence concerned her, very deeply. He cleared his throat, "I suppose at this point I'm more or less indifferent to the matter."

She took a moment to process his answer. "I thought "No." would have been the worst answer you could give. I guess I was wrong." She looked at the door, "Mila and I need to head back soon. I think… I think I'm done here. It was… interesting to meet you." She turned and went to the door.

"Who is your mother?"

She stopped and looked back at the old man. The question surprised her. She shook her head, "You don't care who my father is, why would I tell you who my mother is?"

She made her way back to the shuttle. Mila was inside, picking at her nails with her feet up on the console. She took her feet down, "That was shorter than I expected."

"Hm." Cerys didn't really want to talk about it.

Mila entered the coordinates and the shuttle lifted off, taking them back to the main ship. It was some time before either of them spoke.

"You shouldn't have taken me there."

"It was better to end it this way."

"It's not what my father wanted."

She sighed and repeated herself, "It was better this way."

Cerys didn't reply.

The return trip was quiet and painstakingly long. The ship floated into view.

"Your father will not be happy. I will let him know I did not tell you where we were going." Mila's voice was strangely empty.

The pod docked and the door slid open. They both stepped out.

Mika was leaning against the wall near the exit, her arms crossed over her chest. Iz stood near her, looking nervous.

Her father stood directly in front of them, his legs parted in a powerful stance, his arms crossed behind his back. She almost stepped back when she saw him – he looked nothing short of terrifying. She'd seen him angry before, but this was something different. He looked absolutely livid. He didn't look at her – he was entirely focused on Mila.

Mila touched her arm. "Leave, please."

She nodded and stepped forward, pausing next to him. She opened her mouth, "We…"

His eyebrows rose and his icy glare shifted to her, "Get. Out. All of you. Out."

Iz looked at her, hesitant that he should leave Mila alone with Armitage. Cerys nodded at him. The three of them left quickly, shutting the door behind them.

"My sister fucked up, didn't she?" Mika asked the second the door sealed.

Cerys inhaled deeply, "Yes… Yes I think she did."

Mika nodded, "Leave them to work it out. This is none of our business." She left them for the upper level of the ship.

"Where were you?" Iz asked.

She shook her head, "I… I don't know. The whole thing was so bazaar…"

Suddenly, her father could be heard shouting from within the room. Her jaw dropped – she'd never heard him yell before. She couldn't quite make out the words, but she was sort of happy she couldn't. Iz looked equally surprised, staring at the door. "What did she do? Are you okay?"

"I… yes, yes I'm okay. Mila just… she did something she should not have done. Something my father did not want her to do."

The shouting only grew louder, more vicious.

"What could she have possibly done that was so awful?"

"I don't think I can tell you."

Iz nodded at her. "He's been pacing that room since you two left. I was afraid you were in danger at first, but the way he looked…"

She shook her head, "I've never seen him like that before." She motioned to the door, "Or heard this before. It's… wow."

"She… she's okay in there, right?"

"Oh… of course. Of course. He'd never hurt her. I think she's… She's maybe hurt him worse than he'd ever hurt her."

Iz watched her face closely; she thought it was a bit endearing how concerned he was with her well-being.

The yelling settled and the door slid open. Armitage stepped out, pausing when he saw the two of them right outside the door. Cerys shook her head, "I…"

He threw up a hand to stop her, "Not now." He turned and marched away, looking just as angry as he was when they'd first stepped off the ship.

Iz watched after him, "He… can be genuinely frightening."

She looked into the dark room, "I need to check on Mila. Do you mind… We just need some privacy."

He nodded, "Yeah, just… I'll be in my quarters, if you need anything."

She found Mila leaning against the wall, her temples pinched between her fingers, her hand covering her face.

"Mila…"

Mila sniffed and wiped at her face quickly. "Hm?" She was trying to hide the fact that she'd been crying, but wasn't doing a very good job.

"You're okay?"

"Yes. Yes I am fine."

"Is he?"

Mila was quiet for a moment. She shook her head and looked away from Cerys. "It is the worst thing to hurt someone you love."

Cerys frowned. "Then why did you?"

Mila blinked rapidly, turning away from her with a pathetic laugh, "Your father wants to know the same thing."

Iz was barely in his room ten minutes when she came to see him. The energy of the entire ship had changed so quickly it was baffling. When he first joined them, it was warm, welcoming in a sort of familial way, even with her father's clear disinterest in him. Everything had turned cold so quickly.

She entered without asking and closed the door behind her, looking drained. She sat in the chair, "Will you… tell me about your family? I know we aren't supposed to speak of these things, but… please? I will tell you about mine. I can't tell you much, but I will tell you what I can."

He sat on the floor, looking at her. "Yeah… I mean… Yeah, I guess I can. You're okay, right?"

"Please stop asking. Yes."

"What do you want to know?"

"Just… your parents. Tell me about your parents. Who are they? What do they do? What are your grandparents like? Do you have siblings?"

He rocked a little. "Mm... Okay. My father, Samaru, was from an old family… some sort of nobility, I think. He sort of… rejected it all and became a writer. Wasn't really fond of his family. He left home and broke contact with them when he was about my age, and started traveling and writing, mostly for political publications and whatnot. He met my mother, Kimana, while he was visiting her home world, a little planet called Nohma. She was a healer, had a little business running for her village. Healer is the wrong word, really. She always acted like there was something mystical to what she was doing, but she was a medic." He smiled, "She kept very busy; she was the only medic in the area. My father watched me and my siblings for the most part."

"How many siblings?"

"Four."

"Four?! Wow… that's… wow. Four. I can't imagine."

He laughed, "I guess it is different than your family. Kismet, the oldest, helped my dad out with us quite a bit. Abeytzi worked with my mother a lot. Took to medical things very quickly. Ozumawnakw – I suppose I haven't mentioned this before, but he's my twin brother."

"Oh really? Have you told Mika and her sister? They'd love to know that. Who's older?"

"Me, according to my mother."

"Is he like you?"

"Looks wise, nearly identical, like Mika and M. But personalities…" He smiled, thinking of his brother. "He was really a bit of a brat when he was a kid."

She laughed, "And you weren't?"

"Of course not, I was the picture of perfection." He grinned back at her. "I honestly have no idea how my father dealt with us. I don't think he could have done it without Kismet helping out. Oh, and there was Pipista, the youngest. She was a complete monster. Five years younger than Oz and I… Sixteen years between she and Kismet."

"That's amazing! I can't even imagine having that many siblings! And they all have such… interesting names."

"A few years after Pip was born my father received news that both his parents had passed. He was their only child, and due to inherit their fortune. He turned it down."

"Really? He sounds very principled."

"Yes, at least until my mother talked him out of it. She was the smart one… She convinced him to take the money and use it to launch a political career. He and Kismet were pretty involved, politically. My father was fairly well known for some of his writing, and Kismet was actually a good speaker. They started on the planet we were raised on, and grew their careers from there. When they figured out I was Force sensitive, they decided it was best for me to go somewhere I could get some training… I was very sad to leave them, but it was a good decision at the time. I needed someone to help me learn how to control my abilities."

"They must have been so thrilled to find out you were Force sensitive."

"They were actually very good about not making a huge deal of it… I mean they had four other children who weren't. They didn't want to look like they were picking favorites."

She was leaning forward on her knees, smiling at him and looking almost obnoxiously pretty. He looked away, sighing. Of course she looked like that right as he reached the part of the story he hated telling. "My father and brother's political careers took off and they relocated to Hosnian Prime while I was in training." He scratched his nose. "They were all killed by the First Order in the Hosnian Cataclysm."

Her face dropped and her hand flew over her mouth. "Oh no. No."

He laughed, feeling a little morbid. Obviously it wasn't a thing to laugh at. Maybe it was her reaction. Her eyes were huge, she looked like she was about to cry. "Don't. Don't worry, I've dealt with it. Please don't be sad… I mean it was awful at the time. I was thirteen, very young, I had a lot of… guilt issues? I ended up leaving my training shortly after and just started traveling. I couldn't focus well enough to keep training; it made the whole thing kind of pointless. So I traveled, and kept studying, but on my own. I just sort of made my own training as I went, based off what I could find in old texts. And I visited a lot of relics and temples… It really turned out for the better, as far as my training goes. At least I think it did. I don't think I'm as powerful as I could be, but I am more… well rounded, if that makes sense? I got to see so many different facets of the Force I wouldn't have ever known about otherwise."

She shook her head. "I… I'm so sorry."

He waved a hand at her, "No, no. Don't be. Really, I've come to terms with it. Don't apologize. It's not like you blew up the planet."

She looked devastated. "Ha. Yeah. I…" She shook her head again, "I'm so sorry to hear that, still."

She was acting very odd. He didn't like it. "Well, that's enough about that. It's your turn, yeah?"

Her mouth hung open for a moment. "Ah… yeah. I…" She inhaled deeply, "Um… I'm sorry... I..."

He really should have skipped the last part of the story. It'd clearly disturbed her deeply. "Don't... Don't worry about it. You must be tired from wherever you and Mila went. Why don't you go grab some sleep? I'll take a rain check on your story."

"Er... yes. Yes, I think that's a good idea. Thank you." She stood to leave, looking at him with that apologetic look he always got from people when they found out his family had been killed by the First Order. "You're a very good friend, Iz."

"I'm glad you think so." He was more than a little delighted that she at least thought of him as a friend.

"Good night."

"Good night… Claire?"

She laughed, and he was very happy to hear it, "No, no. You do not get two guesses in one day. I'm not even going to tell you if that was right."

"It wasn't, was it?"

She smirked at him for a moment, and he really thought she wouldn't answer. "No. It wasn't."