Kaile Vera
Whiskey Girl
[member="Asmus Janes"]
That isn't a bad feeling, Kaile thought to herself. It is certainty.
That Asmus attempted to make light of the situation didn't slip past Kaile. However, even a passing glance at the pilot could reveal more than what Asmus meant to say. Perhaps, what he rather not even acknowledge. It was a contrast of situations, a complexity of the reality that they were facing with the attempt of empty lightheartedness.
Asmus could very well say there was too much pollution, too much pomp, and imperials. Yet this was his home. He grew up here. There, upon the crimson blush of the setting sun, splashed against the growing indigo of the night were the stars that Asmus had pointed out to her naught a night before.
[SIZE=10pt]"Do you remember…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]...when you asked about my [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]favourite constellation?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Asmus brought up his arm and had pressed himself close, cheek to cheek. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]“There it is,” he'd signed, tracing it through his gaze out on the sky. “The Watchkeeper and his Treasure. Coruscant sits in the middle of the horde he guards there. His legs and then his great bow.”[/SIZE]
Seeing his profile now, the necktie undone, hair a tousled mess and his attention intensely focused on piloting, Kaile couldn't help but feel the sting in her eyes grow. That burn was a familiar ache, once that she did her best to blink aside by looking away and focusing on the nav computer.
"I'm sorry," it was a quiet apology, but it would weight heavily upon them both. Perhaps Asmus thought that it was an apology of the current situation. Or maybe due to the end result of potentially being unable to return home. It was all of the above and everything else that the pilot would never know, never truly understand. This was a life he shouldn't have tangled himself in.
"We've three incoming," she told him, focusing on the sensor computer. "Can we outrun them?"
That isn't a bad feeling, Kaile thought to herself. It is certainty.
That Asmus attempted to make light of the situation didn't slip past Kaile. However, even a passing glance at the pilot could reveal more than what Asmus meant to say. Perhaps, what he rather not even acknowledge. It was a contrast of situations, a complexity of the reality that they were facing with the attempt of empty lightheartedness.
Asmus could very well say there was too much pollution, too much pomp, and imperials. Yet this was his home. He grew up here. There, upon the crimson blush of the setting sun, splashed against the growing indigo of the night were the stars that Asmus had pointed out to her naught a night before.
[SIZE=10pt]"Do you remember…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]...when you asked about my [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]favourite constellation?”[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Asmus brought up his arm and had pressed himself close, cheek to cheek. [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]“There it is,” he'd signed, tracing it through his gaze out on the sky. “The Watchkeeper and his Treasure. Coruscant sits in the middle of the horde he guards there. His legs and then his great bow.”[/SIZE]
Seeing his profile now, the necktie undone, hair a tousled mess and his attention intensely focused on piloting, Kaile couldn't help but feel the sting in her eyes grow. That burn was a familiar ache, once that she did her best to blink aside by looking away and focusing on the nav computer.
"I'm sorry," it was a quiet apology, but it would weight heavily upon them both. Perhaps Asmus thought that it was an apology of the current situation. Or maybe due to the end result of potentially being unable to return home. It was all of the above and everything else that the pilot would never know, never truly understand. This was a life he shouldn't have tangled himself in.
"We've three incoming," she told him, focusing on the sensor computer. "Can we outrun them?"