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In the dark privacy of her quarters, with no-one around but the droid standing motionless at the foot of her bed, apprentice Deskyl meditates. Remembering how to establish a telepathic link is hard, and doing it is even harder, but she thinks in this case it will be worth it.
Hello? It's more a sense of presence than a proper word, easily mistaken for just another thought by someone not expecting such a thing.
It's not far to the hangar, and the droid is waiting just outside it with a large duffel bag slung over her shoulder. She takes in her master's worried hovering and identifies him immediately. "Hello, sir. I'm DZ-12Q. The ship is this way." She signs along as she speaks.
"...hi," they say.
He waves distantly with his available hand.
"We'll follow you."
It's creepy, that they're talking together like this, and she's well aware that it's going to upset the droid. But there's nothing she can do about it, at least not yet.
...how does he say this?
"She had to use me–" he gestures to himself– "to speak. This happened. Should be fixable."
At least, he assumes, from the way she's thinking about it.
"All right. This way."
The ship is small; it'll be cramped for the six of them. Hopefully they won't have to share it for long.
The Sith leads the way up the ramp, still carrying the hooded woman and levitating the money box.
That seems correct.
The moment he’s on the ship, he gravitates towards the Sith.
She's put the hooded woman down in one of the bunks and is just returning to the lounge when he comes in; she scoops him up without preamble and oh, she's not going to let him go again soon.
He curls up in her arms and tucks his face in against her.
you’re here
It’s so good to be really touched — touched by her. He missed touching her for such a long time even though it had never happened and now he never wants to stop.
I'm here. I have you. You have me. I'm not going anywhere.
The ramp closes, and the ship hums to life, but that's not important, nothing is important right now but him.
Nothing else exists but them, right now.
He feels safe before the ship even takes off.
He lets his eyes close, and lifts his left — hesitates — lifts his right arm to knot his fingers in the fabric of her clothes.
They'll have to do something about that. But for now, she just pets him. Love you. Love you. Love you.
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