Oops! This image does not follow our content guidelines. To continue publishing, please remove it or upload a different image.
┌────── ⋆。°✩⋆。°✩ ──────┐
PROLOGUE 3956 BBY
└────── ⋆。°✩⋆。°✩ ──────┘
THE FORCE WAS SCREAMING.
Almost in tandem with the woman sitting on the edge of the durasteel bed, dirty blonde hair plastered against her forehead with sweat.
Bastila stared at her friend, grasping the woman's hand with as much strength as she could muster, "You're almost there, Nomi," She soothed, brushing her other hand against the woman's back, "Just a few more."
A blue twi'lek head popped out from the other side, holding Nomi's other hand and staring at the Nautolan midwife with a grimace, "Ugh, I can almost see its head," The twi'lek appeared to gag, "It's disgusting."
"Mission," Bastila chided, eyes darting toward Nomi in a moment of anxiety.
The woman simply chuckled though and shook her head, "I know," Nomi panted, staring through sweaty tendrils of hair falling in her face at the twi'lek, "Childbirth isn't exactly the prettiest thing–aghhhhhh" Nomi pressed her words through gritted teeth, periodically grunting and screaming with each contraction.
Bastila flinched with each sound, not just because her friend was in pain, but because her screams sent a pulse that radiated through the Force.
Sometimes she forgot how powerful Nomi truly was. How strong she had become.
"One more push," The Nautolan assured, eyes blinking slowly as she held the top pale head in her hands, "Can you feel it?"
Nomi nodded, breathing growing heavy while she clenched her jaw, tensing her body as her nails dug into Bastila's hand.
She let out one final scream and Bastila grimaced, both her and Mission turning away as the baby's head pushed through pink fluid and landed safely in the Nautolan's arms.
Nomi collapsed on the floor beneath her, barely able to keep standing as she pressed her back into the edge of the bed.
Mission was already gone, but Bastila lowered herself down to remain by her side.
"You have a beautiful baby boy," The Nautolan spoke, clamping down on the cord before handing the squirming pale creature into Nomi's arms.
Bastila watched her friend's lips spread into a wide smile, sweaty and dirty, and drenched in afterbirth.
Her stomach churned at the sight.
Nomi chuckled and began to wrap the child in her pilot's jacket, "Hello there," Her tone was soft, unlike anything she'd ever heard from the woman, "It's nice to finally meet you."