Chapter 20

The gentle winds of Garqi blew across the green ocean of grass that filled the rolling plains. The stalks rolled with each wave of wind like a steady tide.

Ahead, under the starry sky, sat the small capital of Garqi, Pesktda. Insignificant against the backdrop of the galaxy shining overhead. So insignificant that the galaxy's thousands upon thousands of burning stars overhead doused the light pollution from the capital.

"It's beautiful, isn't it?" Ron gazed out, chin resting on his arms and knees, his face crinkled at the gentle brush of the warm breeze.

Her shoulder grazing against his, Cecily let out a long sigh. "You know. I've probably been to over a hundred worlds in the last year. It never ceases to amaze me how each night sky is different."

"Really?"

Cecily turned to Ron. "How many worlds have you been on?"

The direct question threw Ron off.

Ron raised his chin in the air, putting his fingers to his chin, scrunching his face. "Let's see. I had to go to this one world to get this dumb armor."

"That would be Mandalore," Cecily giggled.

Ron turned to Cecily with an impassive face. "It's not even funny. Can you believe Beta made me fight someone else just to earn this gear? I mean, he couldn't just buy it?"

"It's the way." Cecily offered Ron a tired smirk.

"What is the way?" Confusion wrote itself all over Ron's face.

She laughed. "I forget you're kind of a nerfherder when it comes to all this."

"Nerfherder?"

Cecily ignored his question. "On Mandalore, where honor is held above all else. I understand them somewhat." Cecily returned her gaze to the stars above. "You do know Beta has a reputation with the commandos of Mandalore, with the clans of the now defunct True Mandalorians and the Death Watch. He attained his armor by challenging one of the lieutenants of Death Watch."

"Why?" Ron's face straightened. "It just doesn't make sense. He's got so much power. Why would he need the armor?"

"Various reasons. I don't know all of them myself. What I am trying to say, though, is if Beta introduced you, and just asked for the armor, it would have burned his respect among the clans of Mandalore. He would have lost a valuable ally."

Ron huffed. "It still tanked."

Cecily laughed. "You're here now though."

"I guess so." Ron paused. "What planet did I land on again? Ord Canfre?"

"Yes, dork. Ord Canfre is your new home, you could say?"

"I've been to Ord Canfre's moons. Now that was a sight…" Ron trailed off into thought. He turned to Cecily. "Where are you from?"

Cecily's face soured to Ron's question as if it left an unpleasant taste in her mouth. "I'm sorry I asked." Ron's apology almost carried away the warm breeze, barely audible.

"It's fine. None of it's your fault."

The steady tide of the wind and the rustled the stalks and stems like gentle waves at sea. The serene nature of the environment of Garqi contrasted against the face of war.

Behind Ron, over a thousand battle droids and an assortment of weapons quietly waited for him to give the signal to attack. Across the grassy knolls, emplacements surrounded Pesktda, filled with a little under a thousand clones, their walkers, and blaster emplacements. The Confederacy and the Republic prepared to turn a planet's beauty into a battlefield.

Yet, in the midst of war, only one thought preoccupied Ron's mind. That of a young maiden warrior who'd drawn his attention at first sight. From the onset of the operation days ago, Ron's broken heart melded under the eyes of that girl, sparking hope for a lonesome heart that there might be someone else for Ron.

Yet, a dark cloud of doubt swirled over him.

His heart pounded against its cage.

"Cecily… are… are you mad at me?" Ron asked.

Cecily blinked in surprise. She lifted her head and turned to Ron. "What makes you think I'm mad at you?"

"The other day, you seemed distant. And, that felt off ever since… since…"

"Since the day I kissed you?" Cecily's words rang like a gong against his heart. "That's what you mean, right?"

Ron's face flushed with heat, and he wished he hadn't left his battle helmet with the droids at the command post. "Uh — yea I suppose. That's what I mean. But more than that. You've seemed a little distant."

"How so?" Cecily's plain face stumped by Ron's accusation. She reddened when she seemed to remember. "Oh, I… understand what you mean."

"Yea…" Ron trailed off, unsure of what to say next. He broached the topic, but now that the awkward moment presented itself, he didn't know how to continue. He searched within himself to conjure the right words, but even the Force itself refused to help him.

"Can… can I ask you a question?"

Ron piqued at Cecily's words and turned to her. Her eyes focused on the starry sky above, but even in the blue luminescent light, her cheeks burned a rosy red.

"Sure."

"Why did you hesitate?"

Ron blinked, unsure of what she meant. When did he hesitate? What was Cecily talking about? Did I do something wrong? Did Alex tell her something? It was when I paused before assaulting the clones on the bridge? Questions raced through his mind, concerned with real-life problems.

"It — it's rude to keep a lady hanging like this."

Her gaze still avoided him, facing the grass below, her cheeks glowing brightly as she stumbled over her words. If only she knew Ron's silence rooted himself more in dumbfounded ignorance and not purposeful neglect of her voice.

No. She mentioned the kiss. It can't be anything about the battle. She's still talking about the kiss. When I hesitated to… "You mean… when I didn't kiss you back right away?"

Cecily only nodded.

Ron's cheeks flushed with the heat of a thousand suns. How would he answer? Ron gulped. "I… I thought of someone in the moment."

"I gathered that much. I could tell through the Force flowing through you, someone else was there."

Ron sighed. Of course she could read him through the Force. There was no hiding anything from her or his teachers. "So you knew something was up when you went into my mind, huh?"

"I'm sorry. Ever since you started practicing with the Force and opening yourself to it, you haven't been great at hiding it all."

"I know. It's alright."

She paused. "You don't have to tell me if—"

"No. It's alright. Doesn't matter much anymore." Ron stared up into the sky, memories of the past, his former life as a sidekick, diablos, the prom. All of it flooding his head after almost forgetting most of the pain. "Before I ended up here… I fell in love with my best friend. But she didn't feel the same way. She… she ended up with someone else and chose him."

"You're best friend?"

"Yea. Over thirteen years of friendship, doing everything together from cheer to saving the world. It was a real blast while it all lasted. But it's all the past now."

From his one statement, Cecily had a million questions about what Ron was referencing, but she pushed them aside to ask more important things.

"I know this might be inconsiderate, but… do you still love her?"

Cecily's question sent chills down Ron's spine and shock-waves through his core. The word 'love' resounded through every cell in his body. They kissed and now she dug in deep, trying to figure out what thoughts churned in his mind. How deep did his feelings for Kim go?

"Don't be nervous… or anxious. You're not on trial. Just… be honest with me, okay?"

Flushed with heat from the blood racing from his heart, Ron kept his eyes on the ground, away from her. She must already know. That's why she wants me to be honest. "I… I do. She's still in my heart. And I keep buying into this idea, however small it is, that there's some slim chance she'll choose me."

"Oh," she replied.

Ron didn't know if his answer inflicted pain on her heart or if she just needed affirmation.

Ron turned his gaze back to the starry sky. "I know it's asking too much, but for some reason, I can't get rid of the ache inside. It's like I ate good Bueno Nacho and then mystery meat right after."

"I — I don't follow your reference."

"Um," Ron rubbed the back of his neck, "It's some food that I really miss back home."

"Well, I'm sure mystery meat is lovely," Ron gagged at her misinterpretation of his analogy, "but if I may... I don't think it's wrong for you to keep those emotions close to your heart."

"You already knew, didn't you?"

"It's true. When you hesitated during our kiss, I could hear her. The memories of regret bombarding you. I'm sorry."

"No. It's cool. I don't know why I thought after everything you wouldn't know. Stupid of me, really."

"What was her name?" she asked.

"Kim. Kim Possible."

Cecily smirked, "Just as unique as your name."

"Yup. Never really thought about it until now. She's always been KP to me."

"Treasure your memories of her, let go of the ones that bear no fruit, and rejoice in her happiness."

Baffled by her words, Ron turned to her. "You're — you're not mad at me? I kissed you and —"

"Did you feel anything when you kissed me? I mean, for me?" Cecily's words rushed from her lips.

Ron smirked to himself. If she knows about Kim, then she knows how I feel about her. But… Ron still flustered over his heart having two different affinities. One that waned infinitely with no end, and another that kept growing instead, but could never fill the former's place.

"I do," Ron started, unsure of how to describe what he felt, "but, I don't know if it's right?"

"If what's right?"

"If it's alright to like two people at once. It — it just doesn't feel right. Ya' know?"

"I understand how you feel."

"You do?" Ron turned to her.

She nodded, her gaze locked on the stars. "I've been to dozens of those systems up there and the worlds that orbit them, every one of them beautiful in their own right. But I hail from a star that lies on the fringes of the galaxy. It's mostly unknown. Its star only known because its royal supergiant bleeds light into the rest of the galaxy. So bright, it can be seen from the interior."

"Your home?"

"Yes. The name of my home is Betha. And, I'll tell you my story…"

I was born on a world where life had little chance, but somehow still thrived. Our sun scorched our planet, even when it lay in the habitable zone. Its young cyan flames whipped out and licked the surface with heat. Only the sturdiest of breckle trees survived the rocky surface. Monsters, creatures of unspeakable terrors, ruled over the wastes.

The only place where civilization survived and life flourished was near the poles, where temperatures remained suitable for any plants to live. Anywhere else, our sparse population lived underground, where large rivers and reservoirs, and underground, bioluminescent forests flourished.

Fortunately for myself, I was born in the capital of Betha, a large city of beauty and ruin in the face of a certain fate. Its name, Froika, sat just south of the northern pole of the planet. My family, a noble family subordinate to the king of Betha, lived on the outskirts of Froika near the entrance to the underground rivers.

Our nobility status wasn't because of wealth. No, we were a clan of nobility based on our dedication of protection to the royal bloodline. In reality, they purposefully kept us just above the poverty level to keep us subjugated. You see, at some point, the royal bloodline saw us as a threat and sought to put us in our place. So they stripped us of our wealth, plundered any land we owned, and fed us just enough to protect them.

"So, your family served the king?" Ron asked.

Yes. My family and my ancestors before me were known as the Knights of Dothal. We served the royal family since its beginning as their right-hand protector's above all other knights and clans. But my birth, and the condition I left my mother in, left our family in a predicament.

My family needed, or rather required, a male heir as their successor in order to continue our lineage as protectors of the royal line. Not only was I not a man, but I was also a runt, and my mother fell ill after my birth, unable to conceive another child. When the king of our world received this news, he set out a competition among other clans to become our successor.

My grandfather balked at the idea, and trained me anyway, training me from the moment I could stand, ruthlessly might I add, in the way of the sword. He rambled on and on about visions that, one day, I would give rise to a great lineage of warriors. I remember that day as crisp as the wind of Ord Canfre's wintry moon.

"Cecily! Stop swingin' tha — sword like it's a yagat! You'll never defeat a toddler with a stance like th — at!"

He often trained me drunk.

My grandfather struck me down by swinging his practice sword under my feet. Back then, any time I fell, I cried. "But, grandfather! I can barely hold this sword. H — how will I hold a real one?"

"Excuses! You're dou—bting yourself. As long as — you doubt yourself, you'll never reach the true potential you hold inside. Now get up!"

"But, I ca —"

"Nonsense! I know my gut, and it's never wrong. The dreams I've had are real and will come true." I remember him always drunk. My family believed he rambled delusions, but let him train me, anyway. That time, he knelt down beside me, his solid massive frame overshadowing my frail one. "One day, you will give birth to a lineage that will break free of this barren jewel. Your lineage will make all the clans of the stars jealous with awe and wonder, and they will call for their aid in times of need. Even those who call on magic will eye your children with envy."

"Papa! Stop speaking such nonsense to our daughter! Is it not enough that she bears an impossible burden?"

My father and mother hated my grandfather for instilling ideas they believed nonsensical.

"Stop feeding her delusional stories of grandeur," my mother spat. She snatched me up and threw my practice sword to the floor.

Back then, my father and mother sought ways to keep me protected from participating in the clan competitions that would be held before I turned sixteen.

What I didn't know was that my father and mother had different plans for how I would keep the family in good standing with the King, and they never informed me. They saw my fragility, not as a weakness, but a strength. My tiny frame was groomed for the prince of the land who would succeed the King. They put a plan in place.

A plan that never worked out, because what they didn't realize was someone already had a plan in mind.

The king's only heir, the prince.

Years of training with my grandfather would groom me into an impressive-looking young girl. My parents never needed to catch the king's ear. The prince already had his eyes set on me.

Unfortunately for everyone involved, love already caught my eyes in a commoner named Garth. A commoner, my parents nor any other family ever recognized him. Our rank as nobility kept as a mantle for my family's pride and arrogance. They blindly followed a trail they believed led to royalty.

So when I fell in love with Garth, no one noticed. We developed a bond that I thought no one would ever break. All my insecurities about the competition, my parents' woes with me, and my family's legacy melted away when I was with Garth. When my training ended, we would sneak out dust speeders and ride into the wastes, through the barren hinterlands, and into the scorched desert, where indescribable monsters roamed.

So bright was our sun that even at night, its glow would illuminate the horizon. Still, the night sky and the galaxy were mesmerizing. Sitting above the galactic plane, we could see most of the galaxy, all the way to the interior. Garth and I would talk about stealing a spaceship one day and escaping Betha to forge a new life farther in the galaxy. Whenever I thought about my grandfather's ramblings, looking out onto the stars and then at Garth, I truly believed he was my destiny.

It wasn't so.

A year into our relationship and just months before the bout with the other clans, the king died, and the prince took to the throne.

This was around a time after Count Dooku gave his Raxus address.

Something I was blissfully unaware of.

Many systems began to break away in the Outer Rim and join the growing Separatist movement.

Betha was no exception.

The prince thought he could let the Confederacy and the Republic bid for his fealty, like he already ruled the galaxy. In his arrogance, he invited members from both and hosted them. The Republic sent two Jedi, and a senator from a faraway world to negotiate while the Confederacy sent a single Neimoidian envoy, an advisor that we know as Kushro.

Garth and I watched their ships pass over the hinterlands to the south in the night. What I didn't know was that two Jedi spotted us and landed. I guess to scout us out. They must have thought we were scouts of Betha. At the time, I didn't have any knowledge of the Force, and I wouldn't learn until the ceremony that they had spotted us. You see, that night, Garth proposed to me, and I accepted jubilantly.

We ended our night early since I needed to take part in the ceremony as one of the king's guards, alongside my father, mother, and other cousins. As we stood there at our new king's side, the separatists, or Kushro, sat opposite of the Jedi and the senator.

It was at this ceremony; the king laid bare his intentions for me, and my parent's wishes.

"So, the Republic offers further help to our economic situation, while the Confederacy offers this and more," our young king made note.

The elder Jedi leaned in. "The Confederacy will only bring pain and suffering to your world. They will rule with battle droids and force. Do you think they'll give you total control of these units?"

"Lies!" I remembered Kushro standing from his seat. "The Confederacy will make no such demands and seeks to lessen involvement in systems affairs." Kushro turned to our King. "The Confederacy will gift you a fleet of over a dozen frigates, all full of aid, and enough battle droids to defend your system from any Jedi."

Our king smirked and turned to the Jedi. "I need more than just assistance. My future queen will need an army and navy to lead. Will you let her lead one of your Jedi?"

"No. You know the Jedi serve the Republic and the Republic alone."

Our king soured at this answer. "Are we not part of the Republic? Surely since we joined the Republic, then we are entitled to at least a few Jedi Knights. Am I wrong?"

The elder Jedi leaned in. "We do not operate that way. We are peacekeepers, not soldiers. Nor are we to be used to parade around, not on Coruscant nor here."

"Then tell me, Jedi. What soldiers can you promise me and my people? Surely if you and the Confederacy go to war, then won't I become a target? Will you send food and credits so that I may bribe them?"

The Jedi looked at each other. A younger Jedi spoke. "The Republic's Judicial Forces would mobilize to defend you."

"If what you say about the Confederacy is true, then my people would be enslaved, our cities destroyed, and myself and my queen killed."

The younger Jedi spoke. "May we ask, who is your queen? Where is she, so we may speak to her about the matter? You hold her in the regard that she will be in charge of military affairs."

The king out-held his hand. "This is my queen." His hand gestured to me, and all I could do was stand there stoically, holding the shock at bay. But on the inside, my heart screamed. I had no idea that the prince, now our king, viewed me that way, nor did I want him to.

I loved Garth.

"That… is your queen?" The young Jedi stated, almost as shocked as I was.

"Yes. What of it?"

With little candor or sympathy of the plight it would put me in, the young Jedi revealed the truth. "But isn't she betrothed to another? We saw them on the outskirts the other day. Are you proposing that you plan to take her with no regards to her other commitment?"

Our king's face contorted. "What are you saying?"

I didn't wait around to find out what punishment awaited me. My parents never told me they betrothed me to him. I dropped everything and ran. Ran through the throne room and out of the royal house, all the way to the outskirts.

When I finally found Garth, he had no clue what I was rambling about. I knew the prince though; he was arrogant, ruthless, spoiled, and greedy. He wouldn't let it slide.

When Garth understood, he knew the danger and tried to rush me to run with him. I refused. I told him I needed to go back and get the armor that my grandfather had gifted me for my fifteenth birthday.

I sent Garth to a small town at the edge of the wastelands and undergrowth and told him I would meet him at night. He agreed, and we shared a kiss before separating. In truth, I also wanted to escape with the Jedi and I thought they would help us.

Unfortunately for me, by the time I donned my the armor my grandfather gifted me and ran to the spaceport, the Jedi had left. Kushro and his battle droid escorts greeted me. He only agreed to hide me from my parents, who roamed around searching for me. When they left the port, Kushro told me there was nothing he could do, other than inform his superiors.

I left with nothing. I tried to figure out a plan, but froze in my tracks when I heard a couple of soldiers speaking around the corner.

"I wonder what the king is going to do to the clan?" The first soldier asked.

The other snickered back. "I dunno. But, I reckon' it can't be too good. I hear another clan followed the gal and they know where they're supposed to meet up."

"Poor kid. Fell in love with the king's future queen and earned himself execution. What ya' reckon' they'll do to him?"

"I hear they gonna strap em' up by his boots and neuter him. Cut his jangles off."

"Take his manhood and then gut em'. Poor lad."

I never heard the rest as I darted out of the spaceport and stole a speeder bike. I thought I could outrun whoever was after Garth and I. With my sword strapped to my waist, I rode into the night toward the town where we were supposed to meet.

By the middle of the night, I arrived.

And too late.

I fought as hard as I could, but my family's competing clans already arrived. They stripped me of my arms and dragged me into a stable where I witnessed Garth's death.

On the king's orders, the clans indeed stripped him of his organs. Then they cut out his tongue so he couldn't protest his punishment. They made me watch as they fileted his skin right before feeding him to drangas, a carnivorous livestock.

Tried as I might, they never let me budge from their grasp, forcing me to endure the horrors they inflicted upon Garth.

I lost all sense and purpose. To this day I remember my body going limp. I thought that was the worst he could do was over.

I was wrong.

After I watched Garth stripped down to bone and sinew, the clans which captured me dragged me back to the king's throne room. Brought before the king, I thought he would issue my punishment, more than likely execution.

I underestimated his cruelty and sadistic nature.

He brought me to the arena, situated outside the rear of the palace. I watched in horror as my parents walked out into the arena. The other clans cheered and jeered. The king eyed them with glee.

I stood there without a figment of life left in my bone.

"Release the bunnards!" the king ordered.

Bunnards charged from their confines in the arena walls. Monstrous, white, amorphous creatures that could change their limbs into cruel organic weapons meant to delimb and skewer their prey. They wasted little time in butchering my parents and gulping them down their gullets.

I thought I was next.

How wrong I was?

"I sentence you to prison and torture until I deem it fit you're worthy of release."

I didn't answer. My thoughts focused on what sins I committed to deserve a fate like this. The king continued to berate me, his words falling on deaf ears. Numbness grasped my soul, sucking away all the energy my life carried. My body a husk.

That cruel fate lasted for almost the next year of my life.

Until one day, the king released me from confinement.

Guards escorted me from my cell and out into the arena. The same arena where my parents met their end. Even though dust rested at my feet, my eyes filled my vision with the blood of my parents that spilled out that day. The only difference from that day was now I occupied the place my parents had before.

The seats remained empty, the wall around guarded by droids instead of the former clans or royal soldiers. The king's special guests sat on either side of him, seemingly uninterested by my entrance.

"Here stands the traitor of my heart. She shall be our entertainment for tonight to honor our guests from the Confederacy of Independent Systems."

I remember the citizens of the capital, and the clans that once challenged my own, cheered and applauded. My shoulders couldn't drop any lower, nor my head hang any more than it already did.

"She will face the same bunnards in combat that her disdained and disavowed parents faced. If she can kill them, then she will have earned her place by my side once more. If not, then she shall become a source of terrifying entertainment."

The king's sadistic voice bled through my eardrums. At my feet, a durasteel sword lay at my feet, quivering at the falling footsteps of the bunnards as they stomped toward me. Their enormous hands dragged in the dirt, slobber falling from the corners of their crooked mouths. My weapon feared the bloodthirsty bunnards.

"Fight! Fight! Fight!" the crowd jeered as if I stood a mynock minute against such a terror.

Then, the unexpected happened.

I heard footsteps, fast and clumsy, rushing toward me from behind. Before I could turn, the same Neimoidian I met before, Kushro, fear-stricken and skin trembling with slime, jumped in front of me, hands outspread, as if he could stop the bunnards.

"Ha! It seems the Confederacy approves of our culture and ways! So much so they wish to join!"

My king didn't care who the bunnards consumed.

I did.

Quickly, I reached for my sword, grasping its hilt in my hands and raising it to fight the monsters.

Apparently, the dignitaries from the Confederacy didn't agree with the king either. Before I could hopelessly swing my sword against the snow-white terrors, a woman dressed in a deep blue uniform landed between us, a double-ended pure white lightsaber in her hands.

In seconds, my life changed.

Unspeakable monsters that almost nothing short of a god could stop, held immobile by a stern-faced woman. Within another second, my parent's deaths were avenged tenfold. The beasts moaned in agony as their limbs slid off their bodies, and jaws dropped to the floor.

The woman turned to my king. "You charge that this woman betrayed your heart? On what merits do you hold this claim? Did she ever love you?"

The king stood, angered but with a peril stricken face. "How dare you defy our traditions! The Confederacy promised us freedom to pursue—"

"We also understand the freedoms of the individual. The passion of the heart. I feel no sense of that in you or your abhorred creatures."

"Count Dooku promised us that we—"

"His promise is nothing when your region lies under the jurisdiction of Senator Volkov and General Beta. This girl has done nothing wrong and under the powers of the Confederation, vested in me, I clear her of all crimes and grant her direct citizenship. Any more actions against her will be treated as an act of treason."

The king's face soured.

"If you don't wish for your new legion of battle droids to turn against you, then back down."

He did.

The king sat back in his chair, not uttering another word. The woman who saved me was Master Naltos. The Neimoidian, Kushro, I hear there was never a braver Neimoidian in the entire galaxy. To this day I call him 'Uncle Kushro'.

They took me from Betha and brought me to Ord Canfre where I met General Beta and the rest of the Ostari Order.

"Wait, there's more than just us and Beta?"

Yes, over fifty members in all. Most you haven't met. They all welcomed me while Master Naltos trained me.

Beta inducted me into the Confederate Military to hide me from prying eyes.

Right after I pledged myself to the Ostari Order and became part of the Confederacy, the war between the Republic broke out. Instead of participating in any battles, my master and I took part in a campaign of diplomacy within the alliance. Peace missions, utilitarian, relief, refugee aid.

"All the simple stuff."

Ron stared, beet red in the face. He set his eyes on the ground. My problems are nothing compared to hers. Not even close. How can she compare the two?

"So what happened after that?" Ron asked.

Cecily pivoted to him in the slightest, her body not fully facing him. At the time, I swore I would never wait to pursue someone again. In this life, we don't have many chances. I waited for Garth to ask for my hand. And I told him to wait after I competed against the clans, thinking I would win. All that waiting to amount to nothing. So, when I met you, I took my chances."

Ron threw up his hands in the air. "Whoa! Time-out! What do you mean you took your chances?"

She smirked. "Well… I first saw you after the battle—"

"What battle?"

"The Battle of Ord Canfre?" She gave him a questioning look.

"Oh, yeah. How could I forget that…"

Cecily giggled. "Anyway. I saw you training with Master Xaltos. I hid, thinking that you would notice my presence. But you never did. So I watched you train, and not the way I did either."

"You watched me?" Ron asked.

"Yes. I watched you, okay? If you want to call me a stalker, feel free."

Ron shied short of calling Cecily anything of the sort. "Why… follow and watch me?"

"You were interesting. Cute, adorable, funny, and had a perseverance I'd never really seen before. You kept trying, over and over, no matter how bad you failed each time."

"Gee. Thanks!"

"Just being honest. You… you never gave up. No matter the task, your tenacity pushed through." The admiration in her voice took Ron back, so much so that it burdened his shoulders.

"Don't flatter that idea," Ron's eyes drifted to the ground. "I might have my moments, and put a face on, but deep inside… I fear everything."

"Yes, but you—"

"No. You don't get it. I came to this galaxy… here to stop Dementor. To help — prove Kim wrong — that I was more than just a somebody."

"Ron—"

"Now, I walk into this" — Ron threw his hands at the stars — "universe where a man armored from head to toe and looks like the big bad says I'm destined for a greater purpose because of some prophecy. All — all I wanted was for Kim to see me." Ron's words stumbled out.

His eyes met her hand, gently sliding over his. "Seems like we both have had rough go's at life."

Ron gave her a half-sarcastic smirk. "Are you kidding me? My story seems like a bad episode of Agony County. Yours is like the horror take on Romeo and Juliet."

Cecily smirked. "Maybe… but my teacher always taught me this. No deed, however small, is insignificant. Likewise, no two lives can be measured by their stories alone. Only the actors playing the part know the depth of their own tragedy."

"Right…" Ron sighed at her response, his breath nothing compared to the weight of her torment. Yet, here she empathized with him.

"Could you… tell me about it?"

Ron's eyes drifted to her. "Are you sure you want to hear it?"

"At the very least, it's only fair."

Ron inhaled and explained the events that preceded the moment they were in. Everything from meeting Kim at Pre-K, to the night of the prom.

Cecily listened to all of it.

"Sounds like Kim hasn't grown up herself."

Cecily's conclusion baffled Ron. "What do you mean? Kim told me that."

"Right… but growing up isn't all that it's worked up to be. Do you know why I like you, Ron? Even before we ever met? And after, I fell even harder. Do you know why?"

Ron shook his head, shrugging his shoulders.

"You, you can still see the child inside of you. Carefree yet curious, gentle, resilient, and persevering. Throughout your training, your fear transformed from fear to empathy, even for your enemies. Never once have I felt in you the desire to kill out of hatred."

Ron blinked.

"Ron, you have all the traits of someone who will mature into an honorable person. One can have the heart of a child, yet lead nations. Others can stand out as a model citizen but have the emotional intelligence of womprat." Cecily turned to Ron. "Just because she told you to grow up doesn't mean she was right. I might be out of turn for saying this, but Kim probably didn't know how to deal with what you were trying to convey. I mean, being in a tight relation like that for almost your entire childhood only to discover there might be romance? Your friend still chains herself to the fabric of shallow societal chains."

Ron turned his gaze to the ground. "So… are you saying that Kim is wrong?"

"In my own way, yes. From what I gather, her message was flawed, as she has more to learn about growing up. However, that doesn't mean you don't have plenty of room to grow."

Ron glanced her way. "You'll make a great teacher one day."

Cecily blushed, moving a strand of hair away from her cheek.

Ron curled his fingers around her hand. "Do you think that… it's okay to have feelings for someone else while still getting ov —"

"Commander!"

They both snapped their heads around to find command battle droid OOM-84 flanked by two super battle droids.

"The mercenary wants me to inform you that the Republic has strengthened their defenses and moving the townspeople out of the city."

"So she wants to talk?" Cecily asked.

"No. She wants you… uh… both to get to sleep." the command battle droid seemed unsure of telling its superiors what to do.

Ron's flickering blush faded, replaced by a deadpanned face. "Of course. She always wants to get in the way."

Cecily laughed, squeezing Ron's hand, pulling him up with her. "Com' on. It's not often we get to sleep on the battlefield. Enjoy it while it lasts."

He groaned, yearning to continue a conversation that taught him so much more about himself, his floundering feelings for Kim, and the welling emotions for someone that saw all his quirks, even the goofy ones, as something worthy of more than just keeping close.