Pamarthe, 4 ABY
Seonac knew what they were doing. The local Rebels had leaned into the legend of The Pamarthian, the ancient warrior with a sword of green flame, during the Liberation of Pamarthe. And now payment was due. He turned away from the painting and downed his drink. Across the reception hall, Loosh raised a glass and snickered. Hopefully a fight would break out soon and allow him to slip away. A firm hand landed on Seonac’s shoulder.
“I promised your Aunt Frey that I’d look out for you tonight,” said Senator Whilla Sonnel. With a silent signal she had his empty glass replenished by a server. “Though I assured her that you were a grown man and quite capable of navigating an honours ceremony.” Seonac raised an eyebrow. “Adjusting to life as a folk hero?”
“The war isn’t over,” he said, changing the subject.
“And will we win?”
Seonac gave the only answer he had. “Kothan si.” He raised his glass in salute. “We might yet.”
Postcards From Pamarthe is a series of art and micro-story postcards created to mark the project launch of The Last Edge. We plan to hand out some physical copies at Star Wars Celebration Europe in 2023.
Art credit Hannah @han8pym
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