Soldiers of the Stars

Chapter 25: Family Reunion, Yay!

GALACTIC CITY - ALISANDRE HOTEL

BRYKA ACRUX

     Ru Ru had already reminded me what number her suite was twice. I didn't dare ask a third time. It would've been easier to ask the receptionist for the room number, but I did not feel up to any interactions. Truthfully, I wasn't so sure about attending this party tonight either. All I wanted to do was go back to my suite and back into Gunner's warm embrace. I rolled the cool moonstone in the palm of my hand as I took a deep breath, then pocketed the rock.

     Omar, Dystra's droid, zoomed into the elevator nearby. I perked up as Omar's optic lens caught my gaze. "Omar, hold the door, please," I called out. A long second passed before the droid began frantically pushing the button to close the door. 

     "No! Bad droid! Don't you dare!" I rushed towards him until I crashed into a bellhop droid who materialized out of nowhere, pulling a mountain of luggage. The bellhop blurted out a string of curses that would make a protocol droid blush as cases fumbled from their pyramid.

     "My bad." I used the Force to pile the luggage back onto the droid's cart but accidentally caused a second avalanche as the cases and bags buried the poor droid. "Sorry," I shouted over my shoulder.

     By the time I reached the elevator, the door slammed shut in front of my face. I groaned as I propped my head against the activation button. The door slid open again, revealing Omar, who crossed his long mechanical arms, and Gunner, who had his Captain's uniform draped over his shoulder in a protective gray bag.

     "I thought I heard your voice," He grinned. "Good thing Omar was just messing around, right?" He asked sharply, eyeing Omar. The droid cursed Gunner and rolled to the furthest corner to give us some space. I didn't know what Gunner did to strike fear into the heart of this soulless droid, but I was happy someone could control his attitude. "So besides tripping over bellhop droids and chasing the lift, how'd your day go?"

     "I got C3 repaired, though I want to do something about that horrible orange and purple paint scheme he has. He's back up in the room. How was the drive?" A delayed, pungent wave of spice attacked my nostrils. I retched. "Oh sweet Maker, what is that?"

     Gunner smirked. "You like it? It's what all the clone captains are wearing nowadays, or at least, the ones that give speeches at bond drives. I call it 'Clone Cologne, number too-tired-for-this-Banthashit.'" He laughed at his own joke, but his smile quickly dissipated when he met my frown. He cleared his throat. "The drive was fine. This," he held up his suit, "happened on my way back to the barracks. But I got my uniform cleaned and spotless from any dewback chili stains, so I would call that a win."

     "You got garbage thrown at you again, and you call that a win?" The agitation in my voice grew. "Dammit, Gunner. You shouldn't have to put up with this." His dark eyes studied my face as he searched for the right words.

     Finally, he shrugged, "To them, I'm just a clone. They want to see me break and give in to my impulses. But I can't let them get to me. I have to walk it off because it shows them that I am stronger than anything they can reduce me down to. I have to prove to myself that I can overcome whatever preconceptions they make about me to remind myself that they have no control over who I am." He tilted his head in that annoyingly charming way. "You taught me that."

     The moonstone grew heavier in my pocket. Everything I overcame from my past was merely a fraction compared to the fears I'd yet to face. Yet, Gunner made it seem possible. Through our friendship, I was stronger and less afraid. At this moment, it became clear – I couldn't do this alone. And with Gunner, I'd never have to. I went to him and pulled him into an embrace, fighting the tears building in the corner of my eyes, unsure if they were from the torrent of emotions or the horrible stench. His free hand brushed through my hair.