“No,” came the muffled reply.

“I can’t sleep. Tell me a story?”

“There was once a Mandalorian trying to sleep. The end.”

“Come on,” Thekla whines quietly, trying to be respectful of their fellow passengers. “Tell me about Mandalore.”

Kyn turns her head enough that her disbelieving expression was visible. “You don’t want to hear about Mandalore.”

“Maybe I do? You never talk about it.”

“That’s because they exiled me and killed your entire family.”

“That’s true. I guess.” Thekla rolls onto her back, sighing heavily. 

Kyn lets the silence between them hang for a moment, before she sighs, propping herself up onto her elbows. “Mandalore was war. Constantly. If we weren’t in one, we were preparing for one. Battle training, flight sims, guerilla attacks on Outer Rim worlds.”

Kyn pauses, her heart aching. “I miss having a purpose like that. And sometimes I’m ashamed that I do.”

“You’re allowed to miss it. It’s your home.”

“Thanks, Thek, I was looking for your permission,” Kyn says with a half smirk. It drops quickly though. “My home still destroyed yours, though.”

“I don’t remember it. It hasn’t really ever been my home the way Mandalore is yours. I don’t miss it.”

“At all? Not even a little bit?” Kyn sits up, leaning on the platform where Thekla is, arms crossed.

“Sometimes I’m sad. Other times I’m angry. But I know that being angry or sad is normal. Besides, being angry at the Mandalorians won’t bring them back. Or really do anything. I’d rather focus on living my life well in their honour.”

Kyn watches Thekla for a moment, studying her serious, little face. “Sometimes I’m amazed you’re only 14. What kid your age has such control on their emotions.”

Kyn remembers herself at 14. So full of righteous fury, ready to prove herself however possible to earn the right to wear Mandalorian armour and ride a Basilisk droid into battle. 

She hates her young self sometimes. 

“It’s easy. You’ve just got to like droids better than people,” Thekla says with a grin. 

“Besides,” she says after a moment. “I’ve considered you my home for a long time.”

Kyn is speechless for a moment. Her heart is doing a ridiculous fluttery thing that she doesn’t want to name. She takes on of Thekla’s hands and smiles softly at her. Kyn can’t remember a time she was gentle before Thekla. 

“You’re my home too, adi’ka,” she says, cupping Thekla’s face with her other hand. 

Thekla nestles into Kyn’s hand, making a soft, sleepy noise. 

“Do you think you can sleep now?” Kyn asks, stroking the top of the teen Twi’lek’s head. 

Thekla snuggles back down into her bedroll, keeping Kyn’s hand in hers. She’s quiet for a few moments, her breathing even, but then her eyes clench and she shakes her head. 

“What’s wrong? Are you cold?”

“No, it’s...it’s like a sick feeling in my stomach. Like somethings wrong.”

“Are you gonna be sick?”

“No, it’s not physical,” Thekla sighs. “Its like...dread. Like forboding. Something is happening and it’s wrong.”

“Your instincts haven’t been wrong before. Maybe we should find a different world to settle on,” Kyn says, frowning in thought.