To quell the tempest softly
An unmarked light freighter drifted along the Daragon Trail, heading for Alliance Space. It bore no emblem, no affiliation, but the pair aboard the ship were identifiable as Jedi.
Well, at least one of them was.
"It'll take us at least a few days to reach the Core."
Cora and Shan hadn't spoken much during the trip, nor during their capture. Capture being a strong word for what their tenure on Thule had been. Did it count as imprisonment if your captor furnished you with a ship and let you leave? Guilt had been steadily building, weighing on her like the gradual but incessant drip of a faucet. It wasn't much at first, blinded by the fear, the anger, the willingness to do what she must in order to survive. Her history with Nwul was complicated – he'd offered her comfort in her most vulnerable moment, the circumstances of which sowed the seeds for her attachment to him. Then again, when he'd saved her and Shan from whatever torturous fate Jedi Padawans often faced at the hands of Sith. Shan had been relegated to the role of servant, while Cora had been cared for as a proper noblewoman.
Finally, she glanced away from the dials and readouts to Shan.
"You don't have to come, really. I could drop you off on Coruscant. I…"
Cora trailed off, her gaze drawn to the inky nullity of stars beyond the viewport. They had more than enough rations, even weaponry, gifted by Nwul.
She wanted to close her eyes, but every time she did, she saw Ukatis burning. Visions of civilians being gunned down in the streets of Axilla, of buildings, warped and crumbling under fire. The Force hadn't shown her who, but she knew it would happen soon.
"…I'm sorry, Shan. I never should have dragged you into any of this. We should have left sooner."
You fool. You've betrayed the Jedi, and now Ukatis will burn.
His handwritten message - Be Safe, Cora - was tucked away in her pocket.
Shan
Well, at least one of them was.
"It'll take us at least a few days to reach the Core."
Cora and Shan hadn't spoken much during the trip, nor during their capture. Capture being a strong word for what their tenure on Thule had been. Did it count as imprisonment if your captor furnished you with a ship and let you leave? Guilt had been steadily building, weighing on her like the gradual but incessant drip of a faucet. It wasn't much at first, blinded by the fear, the anger, the willingness to do what she must in order to survive. Her history with Nwul was complicated – he'd offered her comfort in her most vulnerable moment, the circumstances of which sowed the seeds for her attachment to him. Then again, when he'd saved her and Shan from whatever torturous fate Jedi Padawans often faced at the hands of Sith. Shan had been relegated to the role of servant, while Cora had been cared for as a proper noblewoman.
Finally, she glanced away from the dials and readouts to Shan.
"You don't have to come, really. I could drop you off on Coruscant. I…"
Cora trailed off, her gaze drawn to the inky nullity of stars beyond the viewport. They had more than enough rations, even weaponry, gifted by Nwul.
She wanted to close her eyes, but every time she did, she saw Ukatis burning. Visions of civilians being gunned down in the streets of Axilla, of buildings, warped and crumbling under fire. The Force hadn't shown her who, but she knew it would happen soon.
"…I'm sorry, Shan. I never should have dragged you into any of this. We should have left sooner."
You fool. You've betrayed the Jedi, and now Ukatis will burn.
His handwritten message - Be Safe, Cora - was tucked away in her pocket.
