Ouch dude u should probably get that checked out,,,,
Concepts/bones/ideas
Post order 66, left over tea bag (Cham)
Cc-2224 has completed his mission on utapau and now finally has the down time to clear out his quarters on the negotiator now that they are in orbit off courscaunt
Leaving in 18 hours to aid in the corralling of the scene and quell social unrest following the outing of the traitorious Jedi on mid and upper levels
Sorting through his personals he finds himself more confused the more he organizes.
Why does he have all these non regulation items? Data pads with no war relevant information just articles on fauna and culture of outer rim planets, places unihabited aside from research bases
No matter, pads can be wiped and returned to the tech department
Some things were useful, stashes of credits are always needed even if not up to code.
Going through his gear he finds, crumpled slightly, a tea bag in his rations pouch (?)
The extra item making the pouch not seal properly
The paper wrapper was slightly worn from rubbing against the other items, but otherwise intact
For a reason he can’t articulate, he can bring himself to throw away such a useless item,
At first immediately putting it in the “keep” pile before catching himself, but as he held it over the disposal unit, his wrists felt tight at the thought of casting it out
Giving up under the pretense of not have the time to deal with that quirk in his programming now.
But he never went back to “deal” with not being able to throw it away
Instead keeping it in his vembrance against his wrist, pretending that he was just holding onto it for a bit before throwing it out. But he never did
As the paper slowly wore down, he was soon able to smell the tea.
It was so incredibly familiar and not only that but so incredibly comforting
Unplaceable as to why
Flashes of memories came in his dreams though, not that he would know they were real.
Hand brushing while passing a cup, swish of fabric, unplaceable silhouette illuminate by data pad, carefully footsteps not of a vod or a stomping natborn officer
Warmth at his back that was painfully familiar but he would always wake as soon as he thought to look at their face
The edge of his glove smelled like tea now, he had accepted that it would be more inconvenient to throw it away as he knew it would occupy so much more space in his daily thoughts at its absence than to keep it close and draw comfort from it,
One night he was graced by a dream or memory he didn’t forget at his alarm.
When he had put the tea bag in his rations bag, in the moment knowing exactly why, for who, but now as he was awake he could not know.
This figure started to take more and more concrete shape as time trudged on in a haze
No face, but the warmth, smell of tea, a feeling in his chest or maybe feeling the absence of something has confused him, why couldn’t he remember? His memories started to feel less and less intact, slowly poking holes in narratives that once seemed flawless.
The war was started by the Jedi and the separatists, the poor republic only fought for what was right, palpatine, as much as cc-2224 did not like him, had outed the Jedi as traitors,
But that didn’t feel right, his throat felt tight and wrapped in wire, nail beds itching, gloves the only saving grace for is cuticle that otherwise would be shredded by his absent minded worrying
Time moved fast whenever he checked the chrono. But oozed around him in passing, orders barked at him seemed to be in slow motion
Even as he knelt infront of the emperor’s attack dog, the new Sith lord’s breathing ragged and wheezy through the layers of his life supporting suit. He did not fear him. He pitted him, trapped in agony too stubborn to die, his own fire and rage burning him out.
The words where so slow in his ears, they where also angry and forceful but cc2224 was thinking of the tea bag in his vembrance, the dream of warm hands at his back, the edge of his glove smelled like something he had forgotten, something important
He heard the whole tirade given to him and a handful of others, high rank officers and even a few what looked to be bounty hunters, he was the only Vod there.
rising to his feet he felt like he was underwater. Movement of the Sith Lord in front of him seemed slow, cape ripping under the imaginary water. Orders thick and sticking to the back of his teeth as he gave the automated response coded into, and trained into, and beat into him since decanting. “Bring him to me alive or die in the attempt”
He knew the “him”, he could see him right there on the data pad in his hand as he sat on his bunk, he could see all the background info and relevant content. He knew him, he was his old general who he failed to kill.
His head was stuffed with cotton, the more he stared at the glowing tablet, the tighter packed it became. He knew he knew everything about his general but all the information seemed foreign or all together missing.
absent mindedly pressing the side of his glove to his upper lip, tea steeped fabric floating around his thoughts.
Listened to a drag path 21pilots on loop while writing this
I don’t usually write unless it’s for a grade but I liked the idea,,,, would love some feedback from those who made it this far,,,,
