Sublimation

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

Location: Hyperspace, just exiting Sith Empire space.

The ship was, at last, silent.

As Leigh exited the barracks, however, she noted that the silence itself held a different quality than it normally held when she and Na'an took the freighter out on their own. The presence of some thirty-odd bodies on a HWK-class freighter designed to sleep six and cargo would naturally change the composition of the air provided by life-support, or the overall ballast of the freighter's movements in space. Leigh calculated the estimated changes as she made her way to the training room, where several more were sleeping on makeshift blankets. The life support would be able to hold until they could make landfall on a nearby world; their supplies would as well, as long as austerity measures were enforced. The ambient temperature was higher than what organics would normally find comfortable, but was stable. Gravity was optimal. Air pressure and density were in the acceptable ranges. Power to non-essential systems had been diverted, reducing the ambient electricity in the air.

The silence, then, was not due to some failure on the ship's part. It was due to some intangible quality--something born of the closeness of organic bodies in crowded conditions, and of the common understanding of why they were there. She paused before closing the training room door, regarding the bodies of Karre Noba and her son Alain curled up in the far corner. They had opted to give up their place in the beds quickly, offering them up to the wounded farmhands who had made their stand at the barn. The boy clung to his mother, still sniffling as she stroked his hair in the dark.

Leigh did not blame the young man for his tears. After all, he had lost almost everything dear to him in a matter of hours. These people, who had just that morning been the pride of Dantooine's agricultural sector, were now adrift. The farm that had been their home was probably still burning.

Their home. Karre Noba's, Alain's...and her own, too, for the last three years.

The silence with which she made her way to the cockpit was the same as that of the organics. She took her seat in the copilot's seat, dedicating herself to some necessary calculations for a few key minutes. It was only when she knew herself capable of speaking calmly that she addressed the small figure in the pilot's seat.

"Have you been able to contact [member="Adelle Bastiel"]?"

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an's eyes never left the main viewport. "No response yet. I'll check again when we reach regular space."

She had closed herself in the cockpit shortly after takeoff, leaving Leigh and Karre to arrange the...refugees...and help them get comfortable. She'd told Leigh that it was to double-check the course they'd plotted in such a hurry, to ensure that they weren't being pursued. Leigh had accepted the explanation, and let her be. Leigh was intuitive that way, after three years. She knew when Na'an needed to be alone.
When the droid had left the cockpit, however, Na'an barely touched the controls. She'd sent a brief message to [member="Adelle Bastiel"], warning her not to come home to Dantooine. She'd done a cursory check on their trajectory. Then, her mind oddly blank, she'd curled up in the pilot's seat, her knees held tight to her chest, and stared into the white-streaked blaze of hyperspace.

It had happened so fast. So fast. Only that morning, Na'an been running in the sun-warmed fields and the dim, shadowed forests. She'd been looking forward to visiting the next village, visiting the shops, visiting the neighbors. Leigh's latest prosthetic was to go to an old woman living there, who'd lost her arm six months ago. There was going to be a festival that night, when the work was done, and Na'an was going to teach Alain to dance. Life had finally settled into a warm, peaceful rhythm on Dantooine. The grain-dappled planet had become a home in ways no place else had ever been.

But Na'an had never made it to the next village. The Sandali, and the strange Sith he'd heralded, made damn sure of that, hadn't they? The grain had been set ablaze. Her neighbors had been twisted into shambling monstrosities made of crystal. Na'an had had to cut down the old woman (and others, gods, so many others) on her way to start up the freighter and rescue the others. When she'd made it to the barn and they'd rescued the other farmhands (The ones they could at least, the few not already sprouting crystal from their necks and backs and eyes) , they could see from above that most of the sector--all the fields, all the villages, a sizeable swath of the grain-dappled sector she'd learned to love--had already burnt to ash and rock and so many bones.

It had happened so fast. So fast. And neither she nor Leigh had even seen it coming until it was far too late.

Na'an had already made up her mind by the time Leigh came back.

"We can't just go back to Dantooine and start up in another sector, you know." she said after a minute. ​"If that--if that's what the Sith Empire is like..."

Her grip on her knees tightened, the knuckles white. "We can't protect them from that."

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

Leigh had expected as much from her partner. If anything, she'd set aside a subroutine to calculate their options for the last ten minutes.
"We will have to leave the system entirely, then," she said, map data already scrolling past the surface of her dome. "The reach of the Sith Empire is broad, spanning much of the Tingel Arm of the Outer Rim. Their territories border with that of the Mandalorian Empire and the Order of the Silver Jedi, although with the border encroachments and Mandalorian culture I suspect we would be turned away from the prior without pre-existing ties."

It was a difficult problem, to be sure. Although the simple life of a triticale farmer had its benefits, it hardly left the Noba facility--or either of them--with much in the way of political clout. With the galaxy in the state that it was in, there were few places a ship stuffed to the brim with common refugees could go to be accepted.

"The Order of the Silver Jedi would be a safer bet. Their government is on the record as heavily favoring refugee aid and resettlement..."

Leigh paused, waited. The idea of being among the Jedi again would be a....sensitive subject, no matter how logical the choice seemed. Na'an would not like it. [member="Adelle Bastiel"] would not like it. Even her own circuits seemed to resist coming to that conclusion on their own.
However, their own wishes would need to be subject to the fact that there were thirty-three other lives in the ship to consider now. The decision could not be made to satisfy their own selfish ideals.

"If you wish," she said hesitantly, "We can wait until we enter the orbit of one of the demarcated systems, and consult Miss Bastiel."

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an held back a flinch at the mention of the Order of the Silver Jedi. She knew the Order's reputation better than most, she and Leigh both. But her partner's unspoken implication was right. If swallowing their pride and bending the knee to Jedi 'justice' meant the difference between life and death for these people...

Well, then, it wasn't like what Na'an wanted would matter.

"Mmmmm. We'd best wake Karre when she calls, too. Technically, this is her ship."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

Bothawui, Mid Rim, Confederacy of Independent Systems space


::Hey, it's— it's Na'an. Don't go back to Dantooine. Something . . . happened. We're— I'm . . . fine. Call me back when you see this. I'll try again. Later.::

Adelle watched the message again and ran a hand through her hair. An automated voice asked if she wanted to replay the recording. Her thumb hovered over the enter button, the ridge wearing a dent into her pad with how often she pressed the button. It had been an hour and twenty-four minutes since she'd received the message. Adelle checked her chronometer: an hour and twenty-five now. She raked her fingers through her hair and clasped the comlink in both hands. Beings of all types walked in and out of the spaceport's entrance. She sat on a bench nearby, disheveled and tired. Na'an had called just as she had approached the spaceport, intent on reaching home.

Eight times she called Na'an. Eight times, she'd been informed that the connection could not be made, even with boosting off the local satellites. Traffic around her increased as the work day concluded for the city of Sal Veh'starn. Pretty soon she'd have to start looking for a cheap place to stay, although the contract that brought her here had paid well. Since Na'an's call, she figured they'd need to save every credit they had. A patrol of spaceport security kept looking in her direction. Valid, since she'd been sitting a while and was agitated.

Adelle sighed and pressed call for what felt like the thousandth time, even though rationally she knew it was only the ninth. But with every passing minute and no new information to go on, Adelle's worry grew. She couldn't shake the smell of smoke or the trembling of the earth beneath her feet.

"Come on," she said under her breath, staring at the comlink. "Connect already."



[member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Location: Hyperspace, just exiting Sith Empire space.

Na'an had been staring into hyperspace for another hour and a half, trying not to think, when the comms finally chirped. The sudden noise, loud against the faint mechanical sounds of [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"] in the navigator's seat, pulled her out of her daze with a start; she fumbled with the receiver as she lunged for it.

"Leigh," she said as she scanned the callsign, "It's her. Karre will want in on this--can you get 'er while we get caught up?"

She waited for a moment for Leigh to respond, but the droid only stood and made her way towards the back of the ship. Na'an watched her go, her throat feeling oddly dry. Leigh was always the quiet one between the two of them, but this kind of quiet hung in the air like lead smoke.

The two of them would have to talk once they had a plan, wouldn't they.

But that was once they had a plan. For now, the comm receiver in her hand was still blinking, waiting for a response. Na'an cleared her throat before opening the channel, knowing full well that it probably wouldn't clear anything from her voice. [member="Adelle Bastiel"] would hear more than enough.

"Hey, Doc. Hope you didn't wait until you were home to check your messages."

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

Leigh knew her silence was not natural. As she made her way as quietly as she could to the training room, she found herself reflecting on the rudeness of her lack of response. Her partner, though, hadn't seemed to mind the quiet if anything, [member="Vidalu Na'an"] had developed similar responses over the last three years. Going quiet when things became...bad. Focusing on the logistics until it would be...safe to discuss emotion. More often than not, avoiding such overt discussions altogether unless there was genuine trauma involved.

Did that mean her responses were far closer to that of organics than she believed? Or had they simply rubbed off on each other?

At any rate, it was likely unhealthy. They would need to talk after they developed a plan.

But that would be after. For now, the plan needed to come first. Leigh composed herself in the moment she slid open the training-room door, modulating her vocal processors to ensure she would not wake the other sleepers.

"Miss Noba," she said quietly, "[member="Adelle Bastiel"] has answered our call. You are needed in the cockpit."

Karre Noba's son had fallen asleep leaning on the older woman's arm; she glanced up at the sound of the droid opening the door, looking terribly tired herself.
"I see," she said, her voice half a whisper. "Time to figger out what to do, eh?"

Leigh wished that she didn't have to say 'yes'. She wished that she could let their employer remain with her son, that she could let the poor woman sleep the whole terrible day off. "Yes."

To her credit, she did not hesitate. It took her two minutes to extricate herself from Alain's embrace without waking him; once free, she stood in the middle of the training room, leaning against the treadmill to smooth out her expansive skirt.
"Let's go. Lead the way."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

At the sound of Na'an's voice, the breath Adelle had not realized she was holding left her in a rush. Her body sagged with relief and she curled forward, resting her elbows on her knees. She barely heard what Na'an said.

"Idiot," she said, not without relief. "Where are you? Are you okay? Where's Leigh?"



[member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

"Leigh's in the back with the others. She'll be back with Karre in a bit."

Na'an swallowed the lump in the back of her throat. Adelle must have been out of her mind with worry, ever since she received the message Na'an had sent; her normal warmth had only come back into her voice once she'd received a response. The full extent of the news would be like a stab in the gut, but after hours of thought...there was no way to soften the blow.

"We're heading towards the edge of Sith Empire space. Me, Leigh, and maybe thirty-three, thirty-four others. The...uh, the Sith finally came for Dantooine."

Gods, her own voice sounded so tired admitting it out loud. Even as simply as that, removing all the horrible details...the fires, the infected villagers...Ledgermayne...Na'an couldn't afford to sound like that. She had to keep a brave face. She couldn't push this all on Doc when Doc wasn't even here. She coughed lightly, pushing herself back to logistics.

"It happened pretty fast, so we don't exactly have a plan about where to go yet. And with the ship overloaded and understocked, we're going to need one soon."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

"What?" Adelle stared at the comlink, a hand holding her head, as she tried to absorb what Na'an said. Dantooine, gone. Idly, her mind noted the difference in Na'an's tone, while the rest of her raced to understand. Na'an and Leigh were alive, but in what condition? They were on the edge of Sith Empire space, but where? There were others, crowded onto the Hawk. What condition were they in? She grimaced and slumped forward. She should've been there. She could've helped. She could've done something.

With Leigh and Nobe coming soon though, she had limited time to ask the most pressing question burning a hole in her. "Na'an, answer me. Are you okay?"



[member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

And there it was. Na'an's gut twisted with guilt, knowing exactly the kind of face Adelle would be making at this moment. She couldn't answer the question the way it was intended, not now. "I'm not hurt," she said quickly. "Didn't even use Babylon. Leigh's undamaged too, and the others..."

Once again, she hesitated. There was no way to explain quickly that the only reason everyone on the ship was uninjured was because they'd had to leave anyone who'd been hurt behind. If she tried going there, she'd have to explain what that meant, and that way led....well. It led to not having a plan.

"Everyone here's intact," she said finally. "Our main worry is figuring out where to go from here."

"Damn right it is."

Behind her, the door to the cockpit slid open, letting Karre in ahead of Leigh. The stout woman bustled into the small space next to the pilot's seat, leaning in so she could hear the comlink clearly. "We're low on fuel, low on supplies, and damned if I'm going to take my men back into the Empire," she said, in the brusque way of a woman with no time to waste on formalities. "If they're not safe on our homeworld of all places, I'm washing our hands of the whole sector. So, ladies, what do you suggest?"

Na'an blinked at the sudden address. "Well...uh, our current flight plan puts us on the border of Order space, right, Leigh?"

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

For Karre's sake, Leigh turned her hologram on for the conversation being careful to keep the display under tight control. The affect would be...mildly unsettling for most organics; Karre in particular would be used to far more expression in the droid's 'face', but it was more polite than leaving the dome completely blank they way she normally did for Na'an.

"The Order of the Silver Jedi have a long-standing history of refugee protection and rehoming," she said. "Should we choose to plead asylum in an Order system, the probability of being accepted is high, and rises the further into the sector we go. Although considering our history, I would recommend against going too far towards the Order capitals."

Her motion sensor detected the slightest of movement--Na'an wincing at the mention of their 'history' with the Jedi. Karre seemed to notice it too, and turned to Leigh, looking confused.

"What's this about a history? I thought she was from the Service Corps. And ain't Miss Bastiel Jedi?" She put a hand on her ample hip, some pursing her mouth at both of the other two occupants of the cockpit simultaneously. "Though I always thought it strange y'all was servicing us after we were named Empire space--"

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

"I never claimed to be Jedi," Adelle said evenly. The moment she had heard Karre Nobe's voice, she'd straightened and took deep, focusing breaths. Na'an and Leigh were shouldering the burden far more than she was. The least she could do was help sort out a decent plan.

"History aside, the Order's not where I would suggest seeking refuge at the moment," she said. She looked up at the security patrol making its rounds again. "They're currently at war with the Mandalorians. Guess who's allied to the Mandos?"



[member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

"...It's the Empire, isn't it." Na'an wiped at her good eye with one hand, keeping the transmitter in the other, suddenly feeling very tired. "Meaning the entire sector is flanked on multiple sides by enemies, and the Order of the Silver Jedi's just sitting there letting it happen. No wonder they've got so many refugees."

The situation was bad, worse, even, with this news, but she couldn't help but feel the tiniest glimmer of relief. With this kind of political situation, they could no more afford to join the hordes flooding into Order space than they could afford to remain in the Empire--and she and Leigh saying no to this obvious choice was no longer purely personal. Somehow, Adelle Bastiel always seemed to know how to pull through with the necessary information.

"The problem is, other sectors are spotty at best in their refugee policy. We'd need contacts on the other side of the jump to help smooth our way. I mean, we're looking at almost forty of us here." She pinched the bridge of her nose, rubbing at it as she handed the comlink back. "Ms. Noba, ma'am, I think this is where you and Doc will need to take charge. I'm not exactly a star-hopping socialite."

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

“Miss Bastiel. Where are you now?”

The question caught her off-guard. "Bothawui."

“Is it safe?”

"I guess? It's under the control of the Confederacy of Independent Systems," Adelle said, watching the security patrol turn the corner. "Allied to the Order, so they're also in a state of war."

There was a deep sigh on the other end of the line, weary and burdened by responsibility. “Who isn’t these days.”

Adelle grimaced. She was supposed to be helping ease their problems. "They are, at least, further from both the Mandos and the Empire, so they may be in a better position."

“And if we go there, will they let us stay? There are thirty-four people on this ship, not including myself—I’m not dragging them halfway across the galaxy to be rejected as a gang of filthy refugees.”

At that, she had to pause. While she had taken several medical contracts out this way and even worked with a few people connected in the C.I.S., she couldn't honestly say she knew the government's policies. "I really don't know, Karre. Each system has its own government so it depends on the system. But Leigh could probably run a search on systems actively accepting refugees or open to the idea."

A pause, measuring and calculating. Adelle bit at a hangnail, waiting to see if this satisfied Karre.

“Then we pick a system that’ll let us earn our keep. We’re not freeloaders," Karre said. The finality in her tone eased the tension Adelle felt. “What do you say, droid?”

She had to bite her tongue and tried to will away the bristling defenses that sprang to mind. Karre meant the word as no more an insult than "boy" or "girl" to her workers. Still, after having known Leigh and her fierce independence for so long, it felt wrong to just let it go. Adelle rubbed a hand over her face. If Leigh had an issue with it, she'd say something. She waited to hear Leigh's take on everything.



[member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

Leigh was only half-listening. At the first mention of the Confederacy of Independent Systems, she had automatically opened several Holonet searches through her passive connection, pulling up all the information she could find. Confederacy space consisted of approximately 500 star systems, each one more or less independently governed. Interestingly, for all their propaganda concerning liberty and democracy, the CIS seemed more of a loose conglomeration of military and governmental officials from each world than an actual governing body. Based on ongoing military coverage, these officials from various worlds were more likely banding together out of mutual self-interest and self-presvervation rather than any singular philosophy or goal. She would have to go through them individually, judging by recent news reports, trade and registry data, anything she could find in the next few seconds.

So she did.

Her first filter was to eliminate systems that were held by public proponents of the Dark Side of the Force--Dark Jedi, self-proclaimed Sith Lords, and the like. No matter how idyllic the scenery, placing themselves in the hands of the same kind that drove them from Dantooine was not an option.

Her second filter eliminated both planets unfriendly to human habitation and overly-urbanized planets. Worlds like Geonosis or Kamino were, while livable to a droid, far from ideal for a group of triticale farmers, and a tourist world like Umgul would have no niche for them to offer their trade.

Her third filter eliminated recently sites of CIS expansion, reducing the risk of getting caught in more conflict. Wroona,

The remaining worlds were...surprisingly scant, but still a large pool of options. While Leigh had the patience to sort through them, her organic companions would not; rather than spinning her wheels exhaustively, the droid assembled a small algorithm to select a world profile. The planet's relevant information compiled itself, lines of text and images scrolling across her dome just as Karre turned to ask her for her opinion.

"The Relovian system," she said, as smoothly as if she'd been following the conversation fully instead of crunching massive data sets for the last thirty seconds, "Is a mid-range system approximately in the center sectors of Confederacy space. Their new queen, a...Lady Silara, I believe, has been a vocally moderating influence on the sector as a whole. While she tends to be more reclusive than other Confederacy figures of equal stature, her public stance on the reformation of slave-trade systems leads me to believe her policy towards Empire refugees would be equally lenient. In addition, the world is still largely in a state of pre-urban development, and maintains a climate and geography very similar to that of Dantooine."

The lines of data blinked out of existence, and in its place Leigh projected her human face, wearing a weary, but hopeful smile. "If anything, Miss Noba, your skills and manpower may be seen as an unexpected asset."

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an sat and listened to the others, curled up to rest her chin against her knees. When Adelle and Leigh brought up the Confederacy of Independent Systems, she had to repress a rather inappropriate snort. Her experience with the CIS had been minimal, yes--only a single party in which she'd been nothing more than a caterer--but it had left a strange, mixed series of impressions. Socialites mingling with Sith wannabes, rude nobles, women hiding weapons under skin-tight formalwear, all utterly comfortable in the kind of wealth that seemed to short-circuit Na'an's brain.

...All the same, the common people hadn't seemed so unhappy. Maybe it wouldn't be so bad?

Karre seemed to share her reservations; her head cocked to one side, listening to Leigh with a hard, probing expression. "The Relovian system, eh," she said after a long minute. "I've never heard of that one. What about you, girl?"

Na'an started as the dark little woman turned sharply to her. Under the sudden scrutiny, it took a couple seconds to order her thoughts.

"I, uh, haven't heard about it either," she said finally. "And I'm not so sure about the Confederacy as a whole. But it's not like we have a lot of options. And I trust that Leigh wouldn't make a recommendation she wasn't confident about. If she says this Lady Silara's our best shot, I'm willing to try it."

Behind her, she heard the droid's bulk shift slightly; Karre paid it no mind, watching Na'an's face for an uncomfortably long minute, her thick, dark eyebrows furrowed as if trying to bore her way into Na'an's thoughts.

"Fine, then," she said suddenly. She clapped her hands once, decisively, like this was just the ending of one of her weekly meetings with the farmhands. "We'll be going to Relovian and asking for asylum. I'll offer our services to this Queen of theirs, and to the CIS as a whole, in exchange for a fresh start were the damned Empire can't reach us. Food growers are valuable to any ruler with sense--if she turns us down she ain't worth our time anyway."

She looked at both Na'an and Leigh in turn, as if waiting for a challenge to her authority on the matter. When none came, she nodded once, slapped the comlink back into Na'an's hands, and headed for the door of the cockpit. As the door slid open, however, she didn't pass through it, instead pausing with her hand on the frame.

"As far as the other matter," she said without turning back, "I don't want to hear another word about it."

Na'an blinked. "I'm...sorry? The other matter?"

"The matter of you hiding whatever nasty history you folk have with the Jedi."

Na'an's heart dropped into her stomach. Behind her, she heard Leigh shift uncomfortably again. "I--we--Ms. Noba--"

"I said not another word."

Na'an's mouth snapped shut; in response, Karre made a soft huffing sound that might have been a snort, or maybe a laugh.

"I'm not a stupid woman, girl. It ain't like you'd be the first folk I've taken in after they got themselves into trouble," she said gruffly into the hallway. "You did good work. Protectin' the farm, makin' them doodads for people, pullin' your weight. And it ain't like any've us would've gotten off world alive without you two around."

She scratched the back of her head; Na'an could see the faint shininess of fresh burn medicine on the back of her hand, leading into the scorched fabric of her sleeve.

"'Sides," she finished, "ain't ike the Jedi've done anything for us lately."

Karre's stocky figure stepped through the door, and let it shut behind her. Na'an watched it slide shut, feeling the knot in her stomach loosen only to be replaced with something else entirely. When she turned back to the call, it was with a hot, shameful tightness in her throat she had to force herself to speak through. "She...she's really something else, eh, Doc? Half the farm dead and she's still far too nice."

[member="Vyra Silara"], [member="Adelle Bastiel"], [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[Adelle Bastiel]

The exchange happened over the comlink, on a ship, far away from the twilight she sat in. Adelle listened as Leigh and Karre spoke about the only option Adelle had suggested. Na'an's voice seemed unsure, unsteady as she answered a question. Karre herself sounded sharp, drawn, worn. Hells, even Leigh didn't sound right when she'd spoken. Adelle rested her head in a hand as the sound muffled, the channel hissing static as the signal was almost lost, before the sound cleared up again.

"She...she's really something else, eh, Doc? Half the farm dead and she's still far too nice."

Adelle stared at the ground, her hand sliding to her mouth and chin. Half the farm? Dead. Half the farm dead. Just what had happened??? Just how much was Na'an not telling her?

"Na'an," she said. "We need to talk. If not now, then when we meet up. Am I clear?"



[member="Vidalu Na'an"] | [member="LE-03 (Leigh)"]

 

[LE-03 (Leigh)]

Leigh was already inputting the navigation coordinates for Relovian, half her visual sensors trained on her partner as she did so. Now that the Hawk had a destination, it was easy to predict that the Healer on the far end of the comms would switch gears in this way. It was in her nature to, check on the survivors, to try to close any damage presented to her--and in their situation, damage would be easy to spot even through the comms. Karre's terse exhaustion, Na'an's increasingly dark humor, her own rather extreme silence, they would all read like open wounds to someone with Adelle Bastiel's level of empathy.

All the same, Adelle Bastiel was not here. They could not count on her to do such delicate emotional labor from a distance. This was why, the droid estimated, why Na'an had even bothered putting on a good face. Her partner would want to worry Adelle as little as possible until they were finally safe, even at her own expense. Na'an, however, had never been good with hiding her emotions. Now that the plan had been made...

As Leigh punched in the final calculations of their trajectory, she watched the little woman curled up in the pilot's seat make the barest of nods, pared with a sound she assumed was meant to be an affirmative. Before she could move to the transmission, however, the droid leaned over, dialing up her audio to ensure the comlink picked her up.

"Please be safe, Miss Bastiel," she said gently. ​"After all, you have to make your way to Relovian alone. We have each other. We will meet you there ready to go."

Adelle Bastiel would likely have the empathy to read between the lines of such a statement. Leigh reached for the comm the end the transmission herself, and for a minute the only sound in the cockpit was the white-noise hum of the Hawk's computers, and below that the thrum of its engines. Somehow, though, even these seemed unbearably loud.

"I did not expect you to tell her about the deaths so soon," she found herself saying to fill the silence. To her own surprise, it occurred to her that in the last few hours, she had not spoken of those deaths herself once. Not to the survivors, not to Karre or Na'an, not even to herself.

Not that she didn't have every death she had been present for now hard-coded into her memory.

 

[Vidalu Na'an]

Na'an didn't look up from the comm. "Yeah, well, what was I supposed to do, hide it?"

The tightness in her throat had spread upwards into her face; she curled up tighter to press her eyes into her knees, hating the heat flaming in her cheeks and behind her eyes, hating how it made everything above her shoulders feel like it was burning, hating that she could still smell the smoke baked into her clothes.
"It's not like we can act like everything's okay, Leigh," she said, hating too the half-strangled sound of her own voice. "Cause nothing about this is okay. You know, you were there. We're leaving behind a fire-blasted sector filled with the corpses of people we knew, and what did we do about it? What?"

She felt the cool, familiar pressure of Leigh's hand on her shoulder, and she hated that most of all. That cold, as comforting as it normally was, only seemed to make the fire behind her good eye blaze all the hotter, all the more shamefully. "We didn't even know what was happening until that karking Sith was on top of us--"