“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. 

“But you said work would easiest to find here!”

“It would. But if you think it’s dangerous, I’d rather go somewhere safer.”

“I don’t wanna be the reason we get stuck with no money.”

“You won’t be. You’ll be the reason we’re safe,” Kyn says, stroking the back of Thekla’s hand with her thumb. 

Thekla thinks for a moment, breathing deep and concentrating on the pit in her stomach. She feels something twinge, but nothing more than that. She doesn’t know what it means, or why she thinks it means anything. 

Eventually she looks up at Kyn. “I think we can stay. I’d rather we did, at least for now.”

“Are you sure?”

“Positive.”

“Okay. That’s settled then.” Kyn squeezes Thekla’s hand once, and then lets go. She lies back down and pulls her bed roll back over her.

“I still can’t sleep.”

“Fine.” Kyn slides out of her bed roll and lays it next to Thekla. She clambers over the Twi’lek, crawling back into her bed roll.

She then gathers Thekla to her, curling her much larger body around her.

Thekla makes a happy noise and snuggles back into her, closing her eyes.

“Focus on my breathing. Keep your thoughts clear. The only thing is this.”

Thekla tries to focus, to match her breathing up, but her thoughts are too hard to quiet, and the dark feeling in her stomach is too hard to ignore. 

Kyn can feel Thekla fidgeting against her, her breathing still too fast to be relaxing. She looks around them, making sure they are the only ones awake. 

She then starts to hum softly, a lullaby she heard on a different jump through space. 

The soft song does what the breathing didn’t. Thekla can feel her limbs going heavy with sleep, her thoughts slowing, sleep taking her over piece by pi-

“Thek. Hey. Time to get up. We’re landing soon.”

“Huergh?” Thekla manages, blinking her eyes owlishly. 

Kyn is leaning down to face her, already dressed in her armour and cloak. Their belongings are packed, her bedroll tied to her bag. 

“We’re about to leave hyperspace.”

“Murrrrrrr,” Thekla whines, but pulls herself upright. “How long was I asleep?”

“All night.”

“So the singing worked, huh?”

“Humming. And tell no one.”

“Who would I tell?” 

Thek clambers out of her bed roll, before packing it up with practised ease, tying it to her pack. She then pulled out her stealth generator, clipping it around her waist, and pulled on her flight jacket. “I’m ready to go,” she says, swinging her pack on. 

There is a soft whining noise that echoes through the hold of the ship. They’re coming in to land. 

Kyn grimaces. “Let’s go see what this hole has for us,” she grumbles. 

“Think of all the opportunities instead!”

“Opportunities to die in a hole.”

“At least we’ll be together,” Thekla says, wrapping her arms around Kyn’s forearm. 

“Sap,” Kyn says, but she’s smiling and her tone has no fire. 

Thekla cuddles into Kyn’s arm. 

The shipwide announcer crackles to life. “Mezenti spaceport, Nar Shaddaa.”

The doors open, and the passengers file off.