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Jendob Residence, Ravelin Ridge
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Star Wars: Unity Forum Index » Bastion » Jendob Residence, Ravelin Ridge
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Kris Jendob
Cray


Joined: 17 Jul 2009
Posts: 28

 Post Posted: Sun, September 12th 2010 05:26pm    Post subject:
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The bag was filled with clothes and other items of importance. The room felt stale, its furnishings untouched for years, a layer of thin dust entombing the objects in their frozen, intransient state. The dreary, dull-blue paint made the room look more austere and abandoned than it was, and there was no sign of life except for the various curios laid upon the dressers and shelves. Like so much in the Jendob family, it had not changed.

In the corner, by the window, was the small bed, now serving as a receptacle for piles of clothes. The carpet underfoot was kept pristinely clean by Niles, and indeed the two end tables flanking either side of the bed were dusted, probably in anticipation for his arrival on Unification Day. There was a desk on the wall adjacent to the doorway, still covered with papers, although the desktop datapad unit had been removed long ago. There was a faded effigy of the Dreadnaughts hanging from one of the side walls, prominently showcasing Derk Ralaon, who six years ago was the star of the smashball league—he was now just a footnote, forgotten as younger players came up the ranks. Mom had been a fan of the Corellian team and had bought him that poster, trying to encourage him to play the sport. Kris recalled with a smirk the times he’d entertained the idea of becoming a professional smashball player, but he knew there had never been any chance of that.

Kris’ old room was a flashback to a time long past, when this place hadn’t seemed quite so depressing—the room itself had not been altered; only Kris’ perceptions had changed. His being here didn’t feel like coming home—it felt like strolling through a graveyard. He was tomb-robbing, stuffing his bag with anything worth saving from his childhood home, before its extant occupants would emigrate to their new, personal palace as the Emperor and the Empress.

Mostly, he was digging up old clothes. Today, Kris was concerned with the practical: he took important documents, books and holograms of him and his friends. However, some objects of sentiment—old trophies, his first uniform as a cadet, the long-unused chips containing his schoolwork, and family pictures—had made their way into this room. He couldn’t bring himself to take those items with him, nor could he throw them away. Instead, out of complacency, he preferred to leave them here, in this room that was seemingly unaffected by time, even though he knew by the end of the week it would cease to be the Jendob household.

No one was home, Kris was grateful. He had timed it well enough that he could come to the house and get out without running into anybody. Every second he stayed here, though, he grew more anxious to leave. He closed up the bag and took a look around the space once again. He sighed, finding it hard to believe that next month a new aristocratic family would find themselves here. He hoped whatever child got this room, he’d feel more comfortable than Kris had. The Jendob residence was finally going to change; he just hadn’t expected it to occur in such a drastic way.

Kris walked through the door, but saw a dark, tall obstacle before him, stopping just centimeters away from a collision. “Oh,” said the figure.

“Oh,” echoed Kris. He stared at his father.

“I’m sorry,” Ams Jendob apologized, backing up a few steps. “I wasn’t expecting you for a while yet.”

“I was just getting my stuff before you move into your… palace,” Kris carefully worded.

“I see,” his father responded after a moment of consideration. “Well, I was cleaning up downstairs, and I found some more things you might be interested in.”

“Did you?” Kris inquired without much interest. He felt the desire to act with utmost indigence, but he tempered his recalcitrance, trying to keep the dialogue civil so he could leave more quickly.

Since Kris had left Bastion on the morning after Zend’s attack, much had happened. The elder Jendob had become the new Emperor of the Remnant. Zend had co-ordinated attacks on Muunilinst and Bilbringi, and they both had fallen. The Navy was straddling the line between intense readiness and staggering indecisiveness. Kris had been able to secure a few hours’ leave to come down to the surface and collect his belongings—and his thoughts.

The older man looked like he had aged in the past few days. There was no increased greyness in his father’s hair, nor wrinkles or anything stereotypical like that. He just exuded… weariness, perhaps.

“Yes,” the Emperor said in response to Kris’ absent question. He produced a small box, unnoticed by Kris until now. “It’s primarily yours.”

Kris eyed him for a minute before taking the box, working his mouth. “’Primarily?’”

“I think there are a few things of Kendra’s in there, too.”

“Then maybe you should give it to her.”

“Yes, but you’re here. You could take what’s yours with you.”

Kris felt his lips tightening. “Fine,” he bit out, unwilling to continue the brief argument. He opened the box as he held it. Within lay an assortment of trinkets, from broken datapads to holos and toys. But only one thing caught Kris’ eye.

He placed the box down on the ground and grasped the gleaming, golden trophy. It was an icon of an athlete, and engraved on the faux-wooden base was Krischen Jendob. He remembered its origin: he had been on the smashball team in middle school, during the only year when they had won the championship, ever. Kris had scored the point that won the championship. He had gotten trophies like every other member of the team, but to him and his mother, it had been an award for that one point. His father had offered felicitations. “I broke this,” Kris intoned, dumbfounded, as remembered his last image of it: falling towards the floor as it slipped from his hands, shattering into innumerable pieces. He glimpsed the anger he had felt at his own clumsiness that day.

“A little bit,” he shrugged. “Fixing the damage wasn’t too difficult. I thought you’d want it back.”

Kris was conscious of his fixated stare on the trophy. He set it back down into the box after he had rotated it in his hands for a few seconds, marveling at the object. It was as if it hadn’t been broken at all, and it looked like it had been polished, too. “You just had this laying around for ten years?”

“Well, no, not really,” he confessed with a slightly embarrassed smirk. “Your mother found it four years ago. Apparently, it never quite made it to disposal. She was going to buy you a new one, to replace it,” he explained. “But I thought it’d be better to try fixing it, first. You’d be able to spot a replacement. And, well… it worked out.”

Kris watched his father. For the first time in years, he actually saw his father. “Oh,” he said quietly, bewildered. He knew of no words that fit this context. “So, you held onto this since then.”

“Well, I intended to give it to you,” Dad continued. “A couple years ago,” he said with a hint of accusation.

He had meant to give it to his son on the day of the birthday party, when tensions had erupted.

Kris looked down, surprised to feel guilt. He closed the box carefully as his father went on. “But it’s more important that you have it. I know what it meant to you.”

“Well, I’m glad you kept it,” Kris offered, not able to express his gratitude in any other way. He let himself feel the moment, not able to analyze it. After some time, he spoke again, slinging his bag around his shoulder and taking the little box into his hands. “I’m done, so I’m going to head out.

“All right, then,” the elder Jendob replied. Kris nodded to his father then walked past him, quietly, as he descended to the first level of the house. “Take care of yourself,” Dad added, almost involuntarily.

Kris was glad that his father couldn’t see the look of confusion on his face.

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Kris Jendob
Starhunter pilot, Lieutenant, Dragoon Maelstrom

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Shayera Jendob
Moff


Joined: 14 Jun 2009
Posts: 513
Location: All along the Watchtower

 Post Posted: Tue, June 07th 2011 01:28am    Post subject:
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“Well, that's the last of it for tonight,” Ams noted as the speedertruck drove off. The house was disturbingly empty, hollow. A single footstep downstairs echoed as if it was in a mausoleum, not the home where two children played, grew up... and had a few shouting matches in recent history. But that's what it is now, isn't it? It's not your home anymore... it's a tomb for all of the memories and experiences here.

The movers had just about entirely cleaned out the entire house. Ams and I were going to stay the night and bring along the last few boxes and crates of clothing, keepsakes, and personal items. And then, we'd be leaving for good. Well, at least we paid off the mortgage years ago.

“Are you all right?”

I blinked, and looked at Ams. “Yeah, I'm fine,”I answered quickly. “It just all happens so fast.”

Three days ago, Muunilinst went down. And while Ams directed a mad scramble of the Imperial Navy to prevent any thrusts toward the capital through that night and well through most of the day, I'd gone to see Jaina Solo. The moffs had their agenda, and I was completely blunt with the woman about what they wanted, then told her they could all go to hell and that my concern was seeing to her welfare. The rumors of her carrying Fel's child had echoed in my mind again, but they were either false or it was too early to tell. At any rate, she'd—on the surface, anyway—accepted my offer of assistance, and in time, even friendship. The following day, I retrieved a very tired Emperor from Remnant Headquarters, and only because several doctors were threatening to trade our their stims for or spike his coffee with sedatives. I repeated the threats once we were home. Apparently, he'd encountered Kris two days ago, but didn't say much more... which, needless to say, did not bode well. Kendra had been by yesterday.

And now, today, we'd finished packing up the last of our belongings and sent them away. All that remained was an inflatable mattress, a blanket and a couple pillows to sleep on tonight, a change of clothes, a bathroom towel, some toiletries, and a couple small crates of things too fragile or sentimental to trust to the movers. Even Niles had gone ahead, leaving the large, seemingly gutted house to be occupied only by Ams and me.

“I hear you,” my husband replied softly, cutting through the reverie. “We could finish packing tonight, ourselves, and just drive up.”

I shook my head, and sat down on the stairs that led up to the second floor. “No, no. It's way too late, and we're both too far gone tonight.”

He smiled thinly, leaning tiredly against the wall. “It's nothing a strong cup of coffee or tea won't fix.”

“Yeah, but Niles isn't here... and I don't think you remember how to do it,” I teased.

“Hmph,” Ams grunted, then sat down next to me. “Are you sure? You certainly don't seem too thrilled about staying here the night.”

“Yeah, I'm sure. Maybe... maybe ten years ago, we could've pulled it off. But not today.”

A dark eyebrow cocked over over cobalt-blue eye. I added quickly, “It's not that I don't want to stay here... it's... I dunno what the hell it is. I don't think I want to go, but I do, but when I... gah.”

“'It just all happens so fast,'” he echoed earnestly, gently taking my hand and squeezing it. I turned to look at him, meeting those handsome blue eyes with my own gaze. And I saw, looking deep into his eyes, that he was facing the same struggles, the same feeling of being swept along by the current or caught in the avalanche of events.

“Are you okay?” I asked, turning the initial question on him.

He smiled gently, the action deepening some of the lines on his face. A few of them I was familiar with... others, I could've sworn weren't there when the year began, just a scant fifteen days ago. Kriff, three weeks ago. Three... “I'll manage,” Ams replied, giving my hand another gentle squeeze. “Besides, the fact is we really don't have much choice about leaving.”

I shrugged. He was right, of course. Ravelin Ridge was no place to set up the seat of Imperial government. Granted, Ams might have been able to pass some executive order or royal decree or whatever the damned moffs called it this week... but spending billions for the sake of staying in this house was just a bit moronic. Even coming up with the idea sent a pang of guilt and anger through me. I quickly pushed it away, hoping tomorrow would bring some clarity... or at least the currents would sweep me far enough downstream that I wouldn't be worrying about a little sentimentality. “In that case, we should probably be getting to bed. Sitting here isn't gonna solve anything.”

My husband shrugged, then pulled himself upright. I started to push myself up when a hand appeared in front of me. A grin crossed my face as I grasped it. “Always the gentleman.”

“The least I can do for my dear Empress,” he smirked, pulling me up.

I got to my feet, and cuffed him on the shoulder. “Be good.” We started to climb the stairs. “Do we have everything set aside so we get moving tomorrow?”

He nodded. “Yes, it's all set aside. We'll be able to load everything up and head out quickly.”

“All right, good. The sooner we get moving, the less time for second thoughts,” I quipped ruefully as we reached the bedroom door. “Sorry. I don't mean to keep...”

“Don't worry about it,” Ams replied softly, without any reproach in his tone. He locked his eyes with mine—not too hard, since we were less than four centimeters different in height—for a moment, then kissed me gently on the lips. “Everything will turn out fine.”

I kissed him back. “Promise?”

“Promise,” he grinned, and opened the door. “After you.”

I grinned, stepped into the room, and stopped short for a moment. I'd seen the room in its current state before, but the utter... emptiness was enough to give me an instant of pause. Dark marks on the wall showed where furniture, pictures, and mirrors hid the paint from the fading effects of time. All that was left was the inflated mattress—dug up from and dragged out of the back of some storage closet—with a couple pillows and a blanket on it. It looked a little small at first glance, too... which was rapidly confirmed when Ams and I tried to lie on it.

“This is... unpleasant,” he muttered. I rolled to my side and propped myself up, and saw a decent portion of his left side was left dangling over the edge.

Still on my side, I wriggled to my edge of the mattress to allow him more room. He pulled himself just barely within the boundaries of the air-filled rectangle... and the small shift sent me tumbling backwards onto the floor with a yelp. Fortunately, the drop was rather short.

“Are you all right,” Ams asked with alarm, blue eyes wide with concern.

I grunted. “Yeah, I'm fine. Why did we get this damned thing in the first place?”

“I've no idea... maybe we should've bought two.”

I rubbed the back of my neck, thinking. “What if... try lying on your side, and then I'll--”

“Shy,” he interrupted quietly. “I have a simpler solution.”

“Well, I'm listening.”

“You take the bed, and I'll take the floor.”

I shook my head. “Nah, come on. That'll mess up your back for days.”

“Would you rather get bowled out of bed every few minutes?” he asked with a shrug.

“Not really,” I mused, shaking my head again. “All right, how can make this work...”

“I know. Get up here.” A smile started to tug at his mouth. I looked at him, waiting for an explanation, but none came; he merely scooted back to give me enough to lie on my side on the small bed. His arm lay across the small strip of sheet that was apparently set aside for me. I tried to gently nudge it aside, but he stubbornly put it back.

“Uh, you might want to move your arm,” I finally said, starting to get annoyed.

“It'll be fine.”

Come on, I'm tired, I thought. Can we not play games? After an eternal moment, I gave up and flopped down on top of his arm. “Happy?”

“Almost.” He pulled closer until he get me in the crook of his elbow, almost a one-armed embrace. Well, it's kinda sweet. He could've just said-- My thoughts were rudely interrupted when, in a slide and roll that I would've envied during my hand-to-hand training, with his arm locked tightly around me, Ams rolled us around and I found myself lying on top of him... but at least centered on the makeshift bed.

Despite myself, I chuckled. “Nice moves. But... I can't. Not tonight.”

He gave a short, almost rueful laugh. “I appreciate the vote of confidence... in whatever category that may fall, but it's not a proposition. If we can't expand the area outward, we can go up.”

I kissed him on the cheek, and slipped my arms around him. “Almost thirty years, and I still wonder what goes on in your head.”

He lightly touched my cheek. “Oh, it's entirely mutual, love.”

Wriggling a bit, I quickly found a comfortable position. “I'm sure. Good night, Ams.”

“Good night,” he whispered. “I'll see you in the morning.”

“Hope so,” I snickered. “Oh, actually... you never did say what happened when Kris came by.”

Ams' eyes opened tiredly. “Nothing really.”

“You know brushing it off makes me suspicious,” I sighed.

“And you won't let me get a moment's peace until I say something else, hmm?” he asked wearily.

That's not a good sign. Why was he being so evasive? Things must've really gotten ugly. “Was it that bad?”

“No!” he groaned with exasperation. “I was going through a few a boxes, he must've come in and gone up to his room... and I found his old smashball trophy and went to put it in his room. Ran into him there.” I looked at him, waiting for more. “And he took it, asked about it, I explained, and left with his things.”

“No fireworks?” I prodded.

A wry smirk crossed Ams' face. “None. Can I go to sleep now?”

I nuzzled his cheek. “I dunno. Can you?”

He laughed softly. “It took a long time to learn to fall asleep with such a beautiful woman in my arms... but yes, I think so. Besides, if I don't get any sleep... there will be fireworks tomorrow.”

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