_I left the military service of the Republic at the same time I left the Jedi. I could see the feeling betrayal in the eyes of my men, but I think they understood why I couldn’t stay. People say a lot of things about clones. Some believe that they’re soulless automatons, and some consider them little better than droids. But they’re far, far beyond that. They’re just human beings, like the rest of us. Granted, human beings with half the lifespan and twice the physical hardiness, but humans nonetheless. And that’s why they could understand my reasons for leaving.
Nau-Kote and his daughter left with me. Both of their tenures had expired with the last of their ARC trooper squad, but still they stuck around to help me out. Now, though, as I found myself without a home or a life, they took me in to theirs.
The only residence I’d ever known was the Jedi Temple on Coruscant. Between the sprawling cityscape and the abhorrent decadence of that world, though, I never really considered it home. Oh, the Temple itself was nice enough, as was the sense of purpose the Jedi always seem to have… but it wasn’t home. I was told, once, that “Home is the place you’ll give anything to see again.” Until I came to Khaela, I had no idea what that meant.
And when we arrived on that gem of a world, I could barely believe my eyes. To think that Mandalorians, of all people, could settle somewhere half as beautiful! I’d never known a place that called me as powerfully as that planet… especially when the sunsets dipped below the horizon, and the radiant clouds of dusk painted the sky in a plethora of colors. I knew then that I’d found my home. I’d lost everything, sure, but what I’d gained more than made up for it.
And if you ask me, that’s really all that matters in the end._
As the figure’s last words faded into nothingness, a powerful hand flicked the projector off. A chime at the door brought his head around quickly, and the Corellian smiled at the familiar presence of his wife.
“Everything alright, Ses-Cae?” Naia’s crystalline voice asked quietly. “You’re never up this late.”
His smile adopted a reassuring quality. “I’m fine, love. Just finishing off my journal.”
“Oh,” she said dumbly, still half asleep and not even close to understanding what he meant. “That’s nice.”
“Go back to bed, Naia,” he laughed. “I’ll be there in a minute.”
As the lithe woman left him alone, once again, Ses-Cae turned his attention back to the projector.
“Computer,” he told the device quietly, “erase all entries.”
The little machine spun frantically for a heartbeat, and then fell silent.