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The rolling hills of Takodana were greener than any other planet Kix had remembered, and he had more than his fair share to compare it to. Most of the time he was brought to war torn planets, their natural beauty marred by the plight of battle or he was too busy to take notice. Now it seemed Kix had the time.
Time. It was always in the back of Kix’s mind these days. His life seemed to walk the line of lost time and gained time; 50 years of stasis had taken everything away from him. His brothers were gone, trying to find remnants of them was as difficult as counting the stars. It felt like a part of him was missing, like he was exposed. Kix had learned to be more than just a number, and during the Clone Wars he was proud of the things that made him stand out amongst his brothers. But now, sitting in a cantina in the far reaches of the galaxy, Kix couldn’t help but focus on his number, being the one clone left in the galaxy.
Time didn’t only take away his brothers, it took away the one plan he had for a life outside the army. It was all a distant dream now; memories of nights shared, his lover in his arms, the way your voice sounded when you first woke up, how your eyes would sparkle and your nose would scrunch up when you found something funny. Kix could still hear the whispered promises, ideas for what they would be after the war. The last time he saw you, Kix gave a rushed goodbye, and a plan to grab a drink at 79’s when he came back to Coruscant. Kix wondered if you mourned for him when he went missing, what happened to them when the Empire took over? Were you safe? Did you end up happy?
But for everything he had lost, he still had to count himself lucky in some sense. In the crowded cantina, Kix grinned into his drink as he could practically see Jesse sitting across from him, rolling his eyes; always teasing Kix for his strange brand of optimism.
“ Lucky? You were frozen for 50 years and you finally woke up in the middle of another war,” Jesse would toss out, a grin forming over his tattooed face . “You couldn’t wake up sometime more peaceful? Give yourself some time to relax?”
“I think the 50 years in stasis was enough rest,” Kix would quip back, “Besides, better wake up 50 years later than not wake up at all.”
But Jesse wasn’t sitting across from him, Jesse was dead. Even if any of his brothers had survived the Clone Wars, time would surely have taken them now. So he sat at the table with his new crew, the Crimson Corsair , unwinding in the cantina not too unlike times before where he and his brothers would crowd the booths of 79’s. The Corsair might be a bit less rowdy than the boys of Torrent Company could get, but they were no less entertaining with their varied personalities. Kix fit in with surprising ease, not that he had much other choices at first in a drastically changed galaxy. But he was becoming comfortable, and all things considered that was enough.
“You, you’re the one called ‘Kix’, yes?” A raspy voice sounded behind him, a hand resting on his shoulder. Kix turned to see the cantina’s owner, the strange little alien known as Maz. She was kind, but something about her unsettled him; maybe it was the way her bugged eyes seemed to stare straight through him from behind her goggles. Kix could have laughed at her question; not like there were other clones around to get him confused with. Still, he nodded in response, appreciating what must be a gesture of politeness.
“Come with me, there’s someone who would like to see you,” Maz informed him bluntly, turning away and walking to the entrance to the bar. Well, scuttling was a more proper term for it as she weaved her way through the crowd. His brows raised, Kix turned questioningly back to the rest of the crew. They all seemed equally confused, except for Sidon’s masked face who sat their as imperious as ever, only waving his hand up as if to gesture to Kix, ‘Well, you better get moving.”
Kix shrugged and pushed himself up, following the path Maz had left the bar in with half as much ease. Exiting, he was once again amazed by the structure Maz had chosen for her cantina; the ruins of an ancient castle that now homed some of the galaxy’s roughest as they smuggled goods or were on the run from the First Order. The grounds outside the castles were filled with mor stone ruins that tapered off into the thick forest, with paths leading to various clearings Kix knew the smugglers utilized to dock their ships. Maz led Kix through the courtyard, to a series of ruins and before Kix could question her further, he saw a figure sitting on a bench, overlooking the lake.
They had grey hair, had to be around their 70s, and sat back, their eyes closed as their hands clasped together in their lap. At the approaching footsteps they opened their eyes and turned in Kix’s direction. A faint smile curved on their lips, glowing a strange youthfulness over them despite their age. They pushed themself off the bench, with a little effort and they awaited Kix;s slow approach.
Kix knew this person. He just couldn’t place how. Something about their demeanor, the way they smiled; every part of their features seemed like a foggy part of his memory. As he stood in front of them, Kix’s eyes met theirs and his heart thudded in his chest. It had been too long since he had seen eyes so beautiful, that sparkled that same way. To Kix, no sight in the galaxy was more beautiful than your eyes.
Your name left his lips, a hopeful question as he stared into the face in front of him, the fog clearing as if being wiped from a mirror, how could he have not recognized you? You smiled and nodded, lines wrinkling around those gorgeous eyes that started to well. Your hand landed on his cheek, still so soft against his skin, as you brushed away a tear that had started to track down Kix’s cheek. How could this be? He had given up any hope of seeing you again, thinking that even if you were still alive you must have moved on with your life by now. But you’re standing in front of him now, age not dimming how beautiful he thought you were, and no amount of time in stasis could freeze his feelings for you.
Kix’s lips quivered, a million questions on his mind. He wanted to know everything. Be caught up on every second of your life since he had last seen you. Before he could stutter out any sentence, you pressed a hand on his chest, grinning at his flustered state. You arched a brow at him, offering that smirk that so often would stick in his mind on long campaigns and for the first time in too long he heard your sweet voice.
“I seem to remember you owe me a drink.”