Archive for the 'Bahama's Datapad' Category
I found myself at the lake trying desperately to think of another place to run to. As if this was something I could run from. I imagined that retreating from life would somehow stop time, allowing me the luxury to make sense of it all. I slowly came to the realization that it just doesn’t work that way.
Reluctantly, I powered up my comm device and was immediately contacted by a customer. I couldn’t think of a viable excuse to decline making him the special order he requested… so I made it. When I asked where I could meet him to deliver his goods I really didn’t expect him to tell me that he was already in my shop waiting for me. I hadn’t planned to go back there yet. I wasn’t sure I wanted to. But ready or not, I had a customer waiting on an order I’d already made. How could I refuse?
He tried on the clothing I’d made for him, was pleased with my work and paid me well. He even complimented me on my business. I’m certain he had no idea that the smile he brought to my face was the first I’d smiled in a long while. He didn’t know that he’d given me just the push I needed to pick up that crafting tool. Nor did he understand that walking into that shop to meet him made it so much easier than it would have been to go there alone.
When he’d left I looked around at the familiar surroundings and was reminded how much I love my job. I love being a tailor and I wouldn’t be anything else. I checked in with the vendors, fired up the factory and straightened up around the shop. Doing felt good.
Then a call came from an old friend who I’d not heard from in a very long time. I travelled to Moneta to see her. Once again, having a reason to return and knowing that someone would be there to distract me in those first few, fearful moments… well, it made all the difference.
Once she was settled in I took care of business around town. It felt so good to be back in my life, doing what I love to do.
I’m surrounded by all the familiar people and places and things… but that’s not to say everything is the same. It’s different. I’m different. But this different isn’t as horrible or scary as I imagined it would be. Life is going to go on. I’m going to go on.
I’ve determined that there’s reason enough to hold on to hope that the news I received wasn’t true. I’ve also determined that whether or not it is, this fear and sadness isn’t going anywhere. But rather than allow it to take over as I have been, I’m putting it in it’s place. The fact I’ve lost doesn’t mean there isn’t anything more to gain.
In a nook of the wood I’ve placed a fountain, “A Mother’s Tears”. And like my own, it flows endlessly. But as it flows life goes on around it. The trees and wildflowers grow, the seasons change, the creatures roam… and occasionally a mother will come by to replenish the water, trim back the bush, enjoy the peaceful cascading of the water and think about the son she loves.
As the days tick on I grow tired of this place. This is no vacation. I am not relaxed. The retreat is beginning to feel more like a prison. I don’t want to stay here. But I don’t want to go home.
The solitude is getting to me but I don’t know that I’m really ready to get back to socializing. The boredom is overwhelming but I can’t quite bring myself to do something productive. On the one hand it appears as if I’ve got a life just waiting for me to get back to it. But then I find it hard to even imagine just stepping back into it after what’s happened.
I think about my vendors and the paperwork at city hall and I want to care. I know I should care. But I don’t.
I know what I need to do here is make a plan. To define a new ‘normal’ and get moving towards it…. but it’s more work than I’ve energy for right now. I’m still going from hour to hour here. How can I possibly begin to think about the days, weeks or months ahead?
But I’m getting ahead of myself. One impossible task at a time. First I need to find a way to let go of that which is already gone.
I have a measure of control over most of my life that keeps me steady and makes me comfortable. I choose where my business is and how it’s run, how often I work and which clients I will serve. I choose where my home is, how it’s decorated and who has a key to enter. I’m fortunate enough to have the means to travel when and where I wish with very few exceptions.
To stop and consider all the decisions and choices, options and possibilites that I’m confronted with daily is mind boggling. From day to day, even moment to moment, I’m not usually aware of the choices I’m constantly making. Nor do I consider how that control, the ability to make those choices, affects me…
Until a situation arises where my choices are limited. Until I encounter something over which I have no control.
I’ve spent the past few days alone, out of contact with friends, customers, citizens, guild members… everyone. And it’s brought clearly into focus one obvious, undeniable fact of life. People cause chaos. What instability, lack of control and limit in choices I have is all caused by the people around me.
While this realization isn’t anything terribly novel, the message I received about BJ has made me look at it from a different point of view. If these people have the potential to cause chaos in my life and in my heart, why do I allow them that control? What do I gain? Is it worth the risk?
But as I sit here in the isolation of the wilderness of Naboo, having purposely cut myself off from everyone and everything I realize the answer to these questions lead me to a much deeper problem. One much closer to home. A problem that is impossible to escape, even here.
My own heart.
My heart is itself chaotic and unstable, lacking in control, limited in it’s ability to choose whom it will love. It freely relinquishes my ability to control and choose without considering the consequences or risks. And there’s nothing I can do about that.
Ironically, what I’m left with is a choice. I can either live in the light of this reality or fool myself into thinking that I can somehow command my heart not to love.
I was working in my office in city hall when my desk rattled slightly and the familiar sound of a ship flying low overhead passed . I couldn’t help but smile to myself. Kiwon was home.
I went out to greet her. I could tell something wasn’t quite right and she wasted no time relaying the bad news.
“You’re not going to like this, Bee. Regional governor is making a sweep. He wants the sector clear of all Rebel activity and I can’t keep them outta here this time.”, she confided.
I asked her to do what she could to help them complete their sweep while keeping all Moneta’s citizens safe. She understood exactly what I was asking of her and she did a wonderful job handling the situation. She directed the troops to inspect various sites and it wasn’t long before they were satisfied Moneta was secure.
Once the troops had moved on, life in Moneta quickly went back to normal. Neighbors who have diverging alliances behind closed doors exchange pleasantries in the town square, share resources and frequent one another’s businesses.
I admit that I often go about the business of my day successfully avoiding having to confront the reality of this terrible conflict. I know I’m not alone in this. My fellow citizens and I pass by troops all the time and, on occasion, even witness a skirmish. But we all go about our business as if none of it exists. It’s simply to much to consider the many hundreds of people on both sides, each actively involved in plotting the demise of the other.
This war has already gone on too long and claimed more lives than I can fathom. But this most recent intrusion makes me wonder if perhaps the worst is still yet to come…
MNETA recently had our Life Day party. Everyone managed to find gifts under the 1000 credit limit and they were anonymously distributed among all our guests. I also put together some gift bags for everyone with some decorative and useful items including a festive Life Day hat.
After the gifts were all handed out we enjoyed some drinks and music over at the Regal Beagle. Oceat did a wonderful job decorating just for the occasion. It was a lovely party and it seems everyone enjoyed themselves… some perhaps a bit too much….
But just as the festivities geared up, a frantic call from Doaba Guerfel came in on my comlink. The gifts collected for the less fortunate had been hijacked by a band of thugs! It didn’t take the Brigade very long at all to mobilize, track them down and recover the stolen presents, still wrapped and ready for distribution.
Happy Life Day!
I’ve known he was on his way home for some time now. I knew he’d be back to Moneta soon. But I wasn’t prepared.
I couldn’t help but throw my arms around him upon seeing him, something I don’t normal do. I stood there overwhelmed with emotion, fighting back tears of joy. There was so much to tell him. So many things have changed since he left all those months ago to serve the Empire…. but I couldn’t even think of where to begin.
I quickly sent out a note to the entire guild.
Dear MNETA,
A little more than a year ago, a noble Bothan stood at my side while I fired up a guild device. He led our fleet as Admiral of Skull Squad, donated the guildhall that is now our Community Center and funded the small outpost of Moneta.
And then he had to leave us for a time. Off to serve the Empire.
But he’s back!
If you get the chance, please welcome LongJie back home.
It was late and soon after his arrival I had to head home to go to bed. In the quiet, darkness of my bedroom I thought about his return.
And I cried.
I don’t think I ever realized how much I worried over him while he was gone, how much I missed him or how relieved I’d feel to have him home, safe and sound.
I drifted off to sleep with tears still drying on my face, feeling very grateful that the Empire has returned LJ to us.
Last night’s monthly guild meeting went well. We had a good crowd attend and I was able to cover everything on the agenda efficiently.
Most of MNETA’s projects are going very well. I’m continually impressed with how so many of our members are willing to put so much of their time, efforts and resources toward advancing our group’s goals and aspirations.
Perfect examples of this dedication are long time guild members, Ineoch and Veeta. Each of them recently took the initiative, offered their time and resources and have breathed new life into multiple guild projects that benefit all our members.
I’m still amazed and so grateful that I have the privilege of serving this extraordinary group of people. As we head into the Life Day season, I hope to find ways to express to them how much they each mean to me.
I put in a long hard day in the shop today. It was time again to stock the vendors. I was quite a bit behind. I gathered my materials, made myself comfortable at my work desk and quickly found my groove. It’s a beautiful thing when you can get in that zone where things flow smoothly and productively along. As my hands worked steadily, my mind wandered from subject to subject.
Crafting a purple shirt brought to mind an old friend who was fond of the color. Rarely was he ever seen without his trusty purple jacket. It’s been ages since I’ve heard from him and I wondered to myself where he was and how he was doing. We’d had a falling out many, many months ago and I thought back on the the anger he expressed in his last communication to me.
In my mind I imagined conversation after conversation that we might have. What could I say to change things? What could I do to turn things around? Each imaginary conversation ended the same, with that same mistrust and anger he’s expressed so many times. Try as I might, I couldn’t even daydream a different ending.
Those who know me know how important honesty is to me. Friend or foe, I never intentionally lead folks astray. I always seek to be a woman of integrity. When I make a mistake, I do my best to make it right. Not much is more important to me than my reputation. More than anything, I wish to be known as someone trustworthy and true.
But what can one do when your words, actions or intentions are misinterpreted? I can’t prove what really happened when things went sour in this relationship. I can’t prove my feelings or intentions or thoughts. If he can’t trust me… I’m helpless to change things.
When it all first happened I struggled daily with facing this reality. I’m still not comfortable with the fact that he thinks I’d ever intentionally hurt him. But slowly I’ve replaced the feeling of helplessness with hope. Hope that perhaps someday he’ll reconsider his assessment of the situation, that he’ll give me the chance to show him that my integrity and honesty is, and always has been, firmly in place. Hope that forgiveness and love will prevail and that I’ll once more be able to be his friend, to enjoy his company and regain his trust.
It’s been a summer of comings and goings.
Several friends have recently been called away. Business trips, family obligations and various other reasons have taken good citizens away for a time. I really can’t put in words how much I miss them. To walk by Ioh’s bunker, for instance, knowing full well, he’s not inside crafting like he always was… it’s just very hard some days.
Then too, there’s been an influx of wonderful new citizens come to join us. Rarely is the guild channel void of good humor and interesting remarks. There’s been plenty to keep me busy as we work to settle everyone in and set them all up with the things they need.
And then there are those who are both coming and going all at once. Crafters who have fired their vendors and given away their inventory and walked away from their trade to learn another, more dangerous one. Others have hung their blaster on the wall and taken to the fields to sample for materials and tinker with schematics.
The upheaval brings a freshness and excitement to the guild for sure. But such so many changes all at once tend to leave me feeling a bit …unsettled.
It feels as if I’ve fallen out of my groove, rolling along in a very haphazard way. I’m behind in stocking my vendors and I can’t seem to shake the feeling that I’m forgetting important things. A search through my datapad reveals nothing pressing yet I can’t shake the feeling that I ought to be rushing somewhere to do something….
But not a moment too soon, this season is ending. And I look forward to a return to the calm, stability the next one should bring.
I finally heard from my friend again last night.
Wait. Did I just call him my friend?
I suppose I did. As much as I’ve tried to keep my distance emotionally, I guess there’s really no denying that I feel a certain kinship with him at this point. This former acquaintance has managed to breech my defenses somehow and now I’m stuck with another person I have to worry over.
I was relieved to hear that he’d easily made an escape with the help of those he knew on the inside. I was relieved to hear that it’s unlikely I’ll be hearing from any more authorities where either my friend or my son are concerned. I was relieved to hear that our difficulties with the Black Sun will likely be fewer… well, at least until one of our pilots has another scuffle with them.
But most of all I’m relieved that he doesn’t blame me for his capture or hold it against me that I didn’t mount a rescue mission to save him. I wasn’t looking forward to living with that bit of guilt.
I’m used to worrying about the people I know and care about. It’s so rare for the shoe to be on the other foot. Yet, he was there, expressing concern for me when I wasn’t even fully aware of the danger I was in. I’ve taken that to heart.
Several times he asked me to purchase some armor for protection. I brushed him off without a second thought. But that was before. Now? Well, I wouldn’t call it armor per-se. It’s more like a padded undershirt, but I’ve purchased it and will wear it as he advised me to.
Though we appear to have very little in common and we clearly have different perspectives and views, I’m grateful that our paths have crossed. I’m not going to be spreading it around that I associate with fugitives… but nevertheless, I’m honored to call him my friend.
