☏ : What letter would the OC write their LI if the LI was the one who became the Outlander after Marr’s ship is destroyed?
To: Theron Shan From: IX Subject: Soon
I don’t know when you’ll read this.
It’s been four years since we lost the Terminus. The war with Zakuul lasted barely a year and then we were all back at each other’s throats again, just like after Revan. Some things never change. But this time I couldn’t- I almost quit.
One more day, Theron. I would have been there in a day. We were en route to the conclave when it happened and by the time we got there there was nothing left, just ship parts floating in the void and Arcann’s message broadcasting on every frequency. If I’d been there, too, maybe- maybe we could have-
You know I’m not any good at this. You’ll forgive me that, I hope.
I couldn’t let it go and Lana knew it- she always says she doesn’t read people deliberately but she’s a terrible liar. It was her idea to send me to Zakuul. You’d probably hate it here- the upper city nobility’s horribly stuffy, the parties are dull and the underlevels are like Nar Shaddaa but with less neon and more insane apocalypse cults. But I felt useful for the first time in a long while, and the deeper I dug the more I realized there was something off at the heart of the story.
You’re the talk of the town, you know- the wicked Outlander who killed the Emperor. I almost didn’t believe it at first but it sounds so ridiculous it has to be true. You shot the Emperor and he died. Throwing a blaster at Karrid was one thing, but-
You never were one for taking the easy way, were you?
I know where you are, now: three levels above me and six blocks over in Arcann’s monstrosity of a palace, locked in a vault behind unsliceable doors, frozen in carbonite. It took a year to learn that much. It may take another year to get you free. Lana says hello; she’s here with me, too. I thought she’d tell me I’d gone crazy when I told her I was convinced you were still alive. I certainly didn’t expect her to go rogue along with me.
But here we are again, trying to rescue you.
I don’t know how so much time passes in carbonite. I don’t know if you’re awake or asleep, if you’re dreaming- I’d say I hope you’re dreaming of me but that seems presumptuous after all these years, even if we both admit that no strings might have been the worst lie we ever told ourselves. But I stormed a fortress once for you, Theron, and I’ll do it again no matter how long it takes.
Just a little longer, I promise. I’ll be there soon.