One Hundred and Two

"... and I miss him. I truly do. There was never a promise of anything more. If it weren't for the unusual circumstances in which we met, we never would have. But he changed me. He made me want to see more; to always question. While I can continue on, he can't. You know, for hours he would tell me of all the strange and amazing, sometimes terrible things he had seen. Things no young man ever should. He was robbed a life, a normal life, and while we all go about our everyday existence, his light is gone forever. Sometimes I think I don't want that future without him being a part of it, but that wasn't what he was about. He wanted nothing more than the people he loved to experience life and live it to the fullest. He died saving those closest to him and I have no doubt he would have done the same for me, a total stranger. So how can I deny him by not living my life to the fullest? It is the one thing I can do, the only thing that means anything."

The man in the crumpled navy suit sat back at his desk and put the flimsie down in front of him. The words did mean something even if he had never personally met one of these 'clone soldiers' she was writing about.

"This is your finest piece to date Elin."

She smiled back, her hair still swept low over her forehead to hide the scar from the night the Zillo beast ran amuck.

The night that soldier kept her company while she was trapped under a collapsed building.

"Thanks Jon, it means a lot to hear that from you."

"What are you going to do now kid?"

"Well," she replied thoughtfully, "I think I might just have a break, you know? Travel, get off Coruscant and see the Universe for myself."

"If you ever need anything, be sure to let me know ok?"

Elin nodded and stood. It was her final word on the matter.

Her declaration to the world that the men who may have all looked the same were anything but.

She never knew that meeting someone like him would have touched her soul. For a large man, he traveled lightly, treading gently with her even if he was bred to do exactly the opposite.

She absently brushed her fingers across her hairline, the scar a constant reminder of the night they met. Unbeknownst to him, he had left a mark on her also.

And she would wear both with pride, in remembrance of a man they called Hardcase.

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