The Pulse of the Republic

A Point of Impact

There was no doubt in Quinn's mind that today was the day. She knew it as soon as her eyes opened. She was ready. The nerves and stress had vanished overnight, like a bad head cold. She had slept her fear out of her system and all that was left was...excitement and resignation. She had been molding her plan and directing her team for over two years. And today, within the next 24 hours, all the lies would pay off. The fog of guilt would clear, and she would begin setting her course for a new destination. A final destination. 

No fancy robes or intimidating get ups today. Quinn pulled on a one piece body, black bodysuit that went from her neck, down to her wrists, and fastened between her legs. Over this, she wore a pair of loose, utility green trousers. Her full cargo belt, similar to Gill's, was slung around her hips. Her hair was pulled back, away from her face as usual, and as she spared a moment to glance in the mirror, she cocked her head to the side, unable to hide a small smile. Gone was the child who had cowered beneath the floor boards of the drop ship as blasters fired above, and the bodies of her friends piled up around her hiding spot. Quinn reached up and wiped away a stray piece of hair, and remembered how the blood had slipped between the cracks in the floor and dribbled into her hair as the bodies bled out. 

Tabitha had been by her side, rocking back and forth, covering her ears, whispering to herself in a native language that Quinn didn't understand. Tabitha had hid her face and refused to open her eyes until the bodies were cleared away. Quinn on the other hand hadn't been able to look away from the floor boards that separated herself and Tabitha from the massacre of the trainees. At one point, someone had fallen directly on top of the hatch, and Quinn had see a slit of their eye, open wide and unseeing as they were held down and shot again, and again. But it wasn't images like that, or even the feeling of the still warm blood that had fallen onto her face and dried into her hair. It was the sounds that she remembered the most. It was the sounds of blaster fire, screams of the dying that lasted longer than they should have, and the fact that it just didn't end. 

"No more." Quinn whispered to herself, resting a hand on the tracker, then reaching over and opening the door to her room. The protocol droid was waiting outside. It had been given instructions to monitor the guests, and inform its master's if anyone tried to escape during the night. As Quinn emerged, it bowed and said, "Greetings." 

"Hello," said Quinn, moving towards her team's rooms and taping on their doors to let them know that it was her. Gill came out first. He looked pale, but smiled and nodded at Quinn. "Uukhai?"

"Uukhai." she nodded. It was the one word of Tabitha's language that she had ever explained to them. Roughly translated, it meant 'the end' or 'Amen'. In the past, towards the closure of an especially taxing or difficult missions, they had formed a tradition of speaking it to each other. Practically, it was an easy way to make sure that they were all on the same page as far as strategy went, but it was also a show of solidarity. If someone asks you Uukhai, it essentially meant, are you with me to the end? And if you answered back, it meant that you would be by their side. It was a show of commitment. 

Gill smiled, and while the protocol droid was distracted, he gave Quinn a quick hug. "Whatever happens next-"

"No Gill," Quinn cut him off as Armada and Tabitha joined them, "No good bye's. It's not that kind of day." She looked up and made eye contact with each of them individually. "Uukhai?" 

They echoed it back to her, and Tabitha even smiled. Her instincts were firing off in all directions, and she was having a hard time reading Quinn's expression, but she also wasn't the same girl who had hidden under the drop ship floor. She wasn't the same girl who had been praying to her angel relatives, crying for her mother, or refusing to face the world that was so much darker than her own. Tabitha was distantly related to the angels of Liago, and as such, had a religious background. But as far as she was concerned today, prayers were words. They held power, but that side her heritage had never favored her before, so she wasn't going to trust it now. If she was going to put her faith in anything, it was going to be in the people around her.