Private The Quiet Between Stars

[Isla Reingard]

Lorn sat at the old wooden desk in his quarters, a datapad glowing dim in his hand. The message had been open for an hour now, half-written, half-erased, redrafted a dozen times and still unreadable. He didn't know how to write this. He could risk his life a thousand times in battle. He could slice through durasteel doors and rip lies out of a traitor's throat. But asking a friend for help? That was apparently an impossible task.

He stared at the blinking cursor. It blinked back like it was judging him.

To: Ala Quin
Subject: Isla

I hope this message finds you well. I know that's a strange way to start, but I don't know how else to begin this without pretending I'm better at small talk than I am.

I've left someone at Shiraya's Sanctuary. Her name is Isla. She's… she's important. To me.

You'll know her when you see her. Brown hair. Eyes that look through you like she's already read the next ten thoughts you'll have. She won't say much, unless it's something that hurts, somehow in exactly the way you needed to hear it. She's… strong. But she shouldn't have had to be.

She's recovering from something… difficult. I'm not ready to explain all of it. Not yet. I'll deal with the Council eventually. But right now, I just… I need someone to check in on her. Someone who sees light in the darkest of places, someone who see's everything with the glass half full.

That's you, Ala.

You're better at this part. The human part. She'll need that. Not a soldier. Just someone who sees her, who can listen to her.

I don't know how to do this. Not yet. But I'm trying.

I trust you.

- Lorn

He hovered over the send button, jaw set like stone, then tapped it with the kind of quiet finality usually reserved for sealing tombs.

​

Isla sat alone at the long stone bench near the edge of the refectory's garden, chin resting in her palm. The sun had been a pale flame on the horizon when she arrived. Now it carved sharp shadows along the Naboo cliffs, the sky stretching into impossible blues and soft pinks. A painting pretending to be a planet.

She hadn't spoken much since she arrived. Not to the Masters. Not to the other Padawans who watched her like she was either sacred or contagious.

She just kept watching the sun move.

There had been a vision. A flicker of certainty in the endless fog of the Force. Today. This beautiful refectory. Waiting. She didn't know who she was waiting for. But she knew they'd matter.

The students passed her like leaves on a river, their conversations brushing past her like wind on glass. Some were kind enough to smile. Others weren't subtle with their stares. It didn't matter. None of it reached her.

She missed the air on Mirater. Dry. Acidic. Honest in its cruelty. This place smelled like flowers and grass and things that pretended nothing bad ever happened. It made her itch. Or maybe it was just how long it had been since anyone looked her in the eyes without expecting her to explode.

She hadn't seen Lorn since they landed. He dropped her off like contraband and vanished into the trees.

Good.

She didn't need him. Or his guilt. Or his long dramatic silences.

Except… she sort of did.

And that made everything worse.

A bird landed on the tree in front of her - sleek, dark feathers, head tilted in a knowing sort of way. Isla tilted her head back, a mirror. "You waiting for someone too?"

The bird blinked.

She sighed.

"Cool. Let me know if they show up."

And so she sat. Waiting.

The Force curled in the air like a held breath. Not urgent. Not loud. But alive.

And somewhere, just out of sight, her future was walking closer.

Ala Quin​

 

[Ala Quin]

The stone pathways of Shiraya's Sanctuary wound ahead like lazy rivers through gardens so vivid it almost hurt to look at them. Ala Quin walked slowly, her hands trailing along the low hedgerows as she went, letting the soft leaves brush her fingertips. Every few steps, she bent down to examine a flower, or to apologize—quietly and earnestly—to a beetle she nearly stepped on. It was... very Ala. A bundle of wonder and nerves and stubbornness all wrapped in soft curls and a heart a little too big for the galaxy she lived in.

She had read Lorn's message three times before she even finished her morning tea. And twice more after that. Each time, the words pressed heavier against her chest. "I trust you," he had written. Simple. Crushing.

It was funny, in a not-funny sort of way, how words like that could unravel her. Words from a man she hadn't even realized she was growing feelings for, not until it was far too late for it to be easy. Maybe not too late for it to be real, though. And wasn't that the terrifying part?

Her boots scuffed softly on the stones. A little ahead, a loth-cat stretched out across the path, belly to the sun. Ala stopped. Looked down at it. The loth-cat yawned extravagantly and, in a fit of impulse, she dropped into a crouch to scratch its head.

"You're living the dream, huh?" she whispered, grinning when it batted lazily at her hand before sprawling even more dramatically.

For just a moment, she stayed there, crouched beside a creature who had mastered the art of not carrying the weight of expectations. And for just a moment, she let herself remember.

She remembered arriving at Yavin 4. Seventeen years old, carrying everything she owned in a weather-beaten satchel, her heart stitched together with hope and fear in equal measure. She remembered standing at the Temple gates, trying so hard not to look lost, not to look like the last choice of a broken world. The other students had looked at her like she didn't belong. And maybe she hadn't, not really. But she had smiled anyway. She had thrown herself into belonging, heart-first, because what else was there?

The road curved gently. The refectory came into view, its garden caught in the slow golden melt of the afternoon sun. The colors of Naboo were too soft, too easy. She could imagine how someone hurting might find it unbearable.

Her heart ached at the thought. For Isla, yes. But also for herself. And for Kaila, still a raw and unfinished place inside her. That love was a ghost at her side, silent but ever-present. Ala wondered if it always would be.

She straightened, dusted imaginary dirt from her leggings, and shook her head as if clearing water from her ears. No more thinking. Thinking made everything heavier.

Action. Action was lighter.

She approached the bench quietly, spotting Isla immediately. Alone. Arms wrapped around herself without even meaning to, the way people did when they didn't trust the world to keep them safe. And there was a bird, a sleek thing perched nearby, almost like a silent sentinel.

Ala didn't walk straight up. No, that would be too predictable. Too confrontational. Instead, she veered off toward the tree, looking up at the bird first.

"You're not who I'm here for, unless you've got a surprise for me," she said lightly, hands on her hips. The bird gave her a unimpressed blink. Ala gave a stage-whispered aside to no one in particular: "Tough crowd."

Only then did she turn toward Isla. Not looming. Not demanding. Just... there.

"Hey," Ala said, her voice the verbal equivalent of sitting cross-legged in a sunbeam. "Mind if I join you? Or are you and your bird friend solving the mysteries of the universe without me?"

She smiled, not the bright, blinding sort of smile, but the small, real kind. The kind you could trust not to burn.

The Force stirred around them, not loud, not urgent, but somehow... welcoming.

Ala didn't rush the moment. She knew what it was like to need time. To need someone to wait with you, not drag you forward. She would be that, if Isla let her.

If Lorn trusted her, she could trust herself, too.

Maybe.

| Outfit: xxx | Tag: Isla Reingard | Equipment: Two short blade yellow sabers |​