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English
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2019-09-05
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The Wishing Tree

Summary:

*SPOILERS FOR GALAXY'S EDGE BLACK SPIRE*

Archex and Devilishly Handsome Hobo have a talk.

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Archex knew, before even reaching the steps, the stims were wearing off. His breathing became more labored and the pain in his leg was slowly returning with vengeance. He had thought he had had more time, coming to Black Spire Outpost to sell his latest batch of carved convor and frog dogs. With the spira he made, he was able to afford a few small bottles of cheap enamel paint. Bottles that clinked in his bag as he started making his way back to the caves that the Resistance members were calling home. But first...he had to make it down these stairs.

With a groan, Archex took one step at a time, rubbing his leg to try and dull the pain. “One step at a time… one at a time” he chanted to himself, his hand sliding along the hand rail until he reached the final step. Wiping the sweat from his brow, he took the last step, letting himself celebrate a small accomplishment before he had to start the journey back.

Luckily there was a small stone wall by the steps, perhaps a minute to catch his breath, mentally prepare himself. Pook would chastise him for potentially causing more injury to his already broken body then say something about how human bodies were so inefficient blah blah blah. Kriki would be awake, the girl never seemed to sleep. Would she question where he was? Probably not, the girl seemed to be in a state of freeze or flight at all times. Dolin wouldn’t even know he had left, the farm boy slept like a rock with a noisy snoring only rivaled by his pet griffin. He was a sweet kid, wide eyed and naive to the world around him, just like had while in the First… Archex shook his head. He had to stop thinking like that, he wasn't part of them anymore.

Although it seemed the First Order stormtroopers were without a CO, it didn't stop them from patrolling the streets, and they would no doubt be making their rounds soon. “Time to lea-”
“Hey Archex” called a voice from above. Archex spun around, wishing he had brought one of Vi’s blasters with him. At the top of the steps stood Zade, his ’stylish’ purple hair slightly disheveled, his shimmer silk shirt half untucked and scarf lazily wrapped around his neck. “Whatcha...whatcha doing out here?” He asked, taking the steps down, hand on the hand rail to keep his balance and plopped, unceremoniously, down next to Archex, reeking of alcohol and an obnoxious plom bloom cologne.

“Waiting for you” Archex lied “had to make sure you made it back to base without hurting yourself”.

Zade’s eyes weld up with tears “I knew you cared!” He exclaimed loudly, throwing his arms around Archex’s neck. “Shut up, you’re going to get us caught” Archex hissed, pushing Zade off him and scooting down to put some distance between them. “I mean, this entire time, I thought you didn't have a caring bone in you. But here, waiting for little ol’ me? It’s just too much” the man wiped his eyes with the scarf, his voice hushed slightly.

Of course Archex cared, he and Zade fought like two tookas but he knew the smuggler was doing everything he can to gather intel and recruit the outposts citizens to their cause. He cares for the Chadra-fan girl, who he saw so much intelligence in. The farm boy who left his entire way of life behind to fight for his family. He even cared for Pook, for as much of a realist and a downer as the droid was, he took care of him, and had some of the best comebacks and one liners.

Most of all, he cared for Vi. She was the backbone to the entire operation. Now she lay back at base, recovering from her encounter from the First Order officer. And what did he do? Whittled away, toys. Inventory their meager supplies. Keep the base tidy while everyone else had an important job to do. Every fiber in his body begged to do something, to have order and a purpose, anything. Vi assured him that he was doing something important on base but it paled in comparison to what she was doing.

“See Valoss. I told you, he...he’s always thinking” Zade whispered to no one, leaning away as though he were.

The hot night was made slightly tolerable by the breeze, bringing with it the smells of the local foods with it. “At least the breeze is nice” Archex muttered to himself, the wind cool against his face. The wind blew through a small tree, colorful pieces of fabric dancing lightly then settling back down. “I-I heard-“ Zade let out a belch, which made Archex recoil “some legend in this town. You tie a piece of fabric and it’s supposed to make wishes come true. I think at least. Kriff my head hurts” he said in a low voice, putting his head in his hands, trying his best not to puke.

The First Order taught him that wishes do not just magically happen. That the only way to get anything done is to take it yourself. At the time, when he was still called Captain Cardinal, Archex believed that. Soothing the crying and scared children on the Absolution that they would have their dreams come true as long as they followed orders. He remembered being one of those children as well, when Brendol Hux would spin sweet words of loyalty and order. How blind he was, instilling in children not to question and to listen to his authority, only he would teach them to be great before Phasma took his kids and trained them into ruthless killers.

“Childish, isn’t it? Reeks of backwater planet myths that the core worlds would call quaint. But whatever makes people sleep at night” Zade rambled on about...well Archex tunes him out by now, looking back at the tree.

What would his wish it be? That all of this was just a bad fever dream and he would wake up soon, clad in his red armor and ready to start his morning routine? He shook his head, no, not a dream, the pain in his leg was a reminder of that. Maybe it would be to finally have a peaceful night's sleep, not be plagued with nightmares? That his injuries could be healed properly so he would have a purpose again? To have Vi reciprocate his feelings? To not feel like the lost scared little boy on Jakku? That this base wouldn’t be a failure? That all of Vi’s hard work was worth something?

With a grunt, he too held his head in his hands, using the breathing techniques to keep himself under control. Damn those Cereans.

“You know what I’d wish for?” Zade asked unannounced, lifting his head up to look towards the moons, “a space yacht. Not just any yacht but a Nubian one. Something about chrome plating, reflecting starlight. Like a giant disco ball in space”. Archex looked at the purple haired man, his eyes narrowed. He was joking right? Surely this man wasn’t stupid...maybe he was that stupid, but it wasn’t as though Zade knew about Brendol Hux’s ship on Parnassos, the same one that Phasma gutted and fashioned into her armor.

“Like a giant disco ball in space” Zade has said, the image of Phasma, if the reports about what happened on the Supremacy were true, floating dead in space, millions of stars reflecting off her chrome armor, strangely brought a smile to Archex’s face, accompanied with a small snort of laughter. “Well call me a kowakian monkey lizard’s uncle, Mr. sour-puss himself actually has a sense of humor. Oh and no datapad to commemorate this momentous occasion” Zade pouted, checking his pocket to see if one would mysteriously show up. “Well hopefully by the time you wake up tomorrow, you’ll forget all about it” Archex let out another short laugh, praying to whatever god Batuuans worshiped to, that the “hobo” was still too drunk to remember this small moment and that his hangover headache would make his day that much more miserable.

Another breeze came by, he could imagine the pieces of cloth backing him to make a wish.

Zade stood up, reaching to his neck scarf and took it off, the sound of tearing fabric following after. “This one was out of fashion anyways. Now, let’s wish us a space yacht. You-you have to wish for one too, double our chances” he said confidently, handing Archex a piece of the scarf. Zade ties his piece to a branch, putting his hands together and muttered his pleas for the spacecraft. Archex ran his thumb over the soft piece of fabric when an idea struck him. He retrieved one of the bottles of paint and a brush. Luckily he was outside with plenty of ventilation or else he might have gotten high from the fumes. He spent a few minutes to paint the garishly colored silk into a crimson red. Once dried, he too tied the newly colored silk to one of the branches. .

“Please...let me be useful. Let me help however I can. Let me have a purpose again” Archex made his wish silently. The breeze came through the tree, the fabric pieces fluttering for a moment then fell back into place. “So, what did you wish for?” Zade asked, giving Archex a smug, drunken smile. “A yacht...just like you said” the former First Order captain gave a half smile, “Come on, let's get back to base”.