Starlight

Impact

Authors Notes: NSFW/SMUT

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Osha cannot sleep.

Dressed in her sleepwear - a flimsy white shirt and grey shorts - she sits in the pilot seat of Qimir's ship, legs drawn to her chest, chin resting on her knees. She stares into the darkness of space, watching as stars streak by in blurs of silver and white.

On the console before her, a grainy blue hologram plays on a loop. It is Mae, her sister that she long thought dead, now here to haunt her in life as she had in death. In the footage she is battling two Jedi sent to apprehend her, her weapon of choice a selection of daggers.

She holds up well against her opponents. Too well, to be someone untrained. She had to have found a Master, someone who has expanded her combat skills beyond what The Coven had managed to teach them before it's demise. It is unsettling, leaving Osha with more questions than answers.

How had her sister survived that day? Who had taken her under their wing, giving her the tools to enact her revenge? What did this Master gain from such an alliance with her sister?

Osha sighs, closing her eyes.

What trouble have you gotten yourself into this time, Mae?

There is a clank of footsteps on the grated floor. A door swooshes open, and Qimir enters the cockpit.

In the reflection of the viewing screen, Osha notices he is in his sleeping attire, a flowy white tunic and matching trousers, his feet bare. There is something endearing, something intimate, about seeing him like this; dressed so domestically, free of his Jedi robes and the hefty expectations and responsibility that were woven between every thread. He seems lighter. Freer.

"You're up late," Qimir points out. He sits across from her on the co-pilot seat, swirling it around to face her. "Can't sleep?"

"Bad dreams," Osha replies.

"Care to share?"

"Nothing worth mentioning."

Thankfully, Qimir asks nothing more of it. But when his gaze shifts to the hologram, Osha cannot help but feel guilty at having been looking at it for so long. Qimir watches as it loops through three times before speaking.

"Do you miss her?" Whatever expression he sees on her face, makes him add hastily, "It's okay if you do."

It wasn't okay, not in the slightest. Admitting to missing Mae, was admitting to having an attachment. A weakness. It proved that she was unfit for this mission. Unfit to be a Jedi.

"If we encounter Mae, I won't let our past get in the way of doing what must be done, if that's what you're worried about," Osha says waspishly.

She hates how defensive she sounds, but Mae is a sore point, a wound freshly salted with every mention of her.

Osha moves to leave, but Qimir is on his feet too, hand grasping her wrist. She doesn't miss the way his thumb caresses her skin.

"I wasn't accusing you of anything, Osha. I just want to help ease your mind. Perhaps take some of the burden you feel off of your shoulders."

I don't think that's possible, Osha laments.

She looks at Qimir and sees no judgment in his eyes. She remembers how he had comforted her beneath her willow tree, how never once did he criticise or belittle her for how she felt - as others would.