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The ship shook as it breached the atmosphere and met with the sea air of the planet. Osha eased her grip on the crank, happy with the re-entry. She then readied the ship for landing. Ahead of them there was the familiar shape of the breakwater, marking the shore of her new home.
The feeling of home was in the little things – such as in being hunted by powerful forces across the galaxy. Regardless, when the ship settled down on the pier, the engines sighing, Osha found herself sighing along with them. The island was different now that she returned there by her own choice. It was this planet’s gravity that she would get used to. It was this salty sea breeze that would wreak havoc on her locks. She freed herself from the safety belts and made her way out to the breakwater into the setting sun.
The stranger climbed out of the ship after her. Like the island, he too had grown close to her faster than she had ever thought possible. What became of a stranger after strangeness ends? The only name she had ever heard for him was Qimir. It was not really him, she knew it, but it was what she had for now.
Qimir took her hand, and as the sun set over the two of them, the island took both of them into its embrace and welcomed them home.
During the following days, a feeling of unreality followed Osha around. Even the most basic tasks felt brand new. Making food together with Qimir, she stared at the ingredients as if she saw them for the very first time. Turning your whole life upside down would do that to you, she supposed. Moving her hands manually, she managed to get through her tasks, and one chore at a time she settled into the new reality of hers.
Then there was, of course, the absence of Mae. After all the years, it was a feeling she ought to have gotten used to. But it was back now, stronger than ever.
Osha glanced at the helmet resting on Qimir’s workbench. The last time she had worn it, she had seen her sister. If she tried it on, could she see her again? Just to check up on her. To see if she was safe, wherever she was.
Tossing peeled roots into the pot, she decided to give it a go. At night. Once she was sure Qimir was asleep.
Qimir snapped his eyes open the second Osha pressed the helmet on her head. Quiet as a cat he got up from his makeshift bedroll to watch over her.
If she wanted to test the helmet, fine. But knowing how it had gone last time… He would have preferred she told him about it.
And when the cry of pain inevitably escaped Osha’s lips, Qimir was already on his way towards her. He just had to do what he had done last time. This time he would be prepared. Just a couple more steps –
Pain slashed through him and slammed him down on his knees, then on all fours and to the ground. His vision distorted, the cave flickering in and out of view as visions of the past threatened to engulf him. His back was on fire, contorting his frame in unnatural angles in a futile attempt to escape being torn apart.
But this was in the past. He had to see it. He had to feel the uneven cold stone underneath his palms. He had to hear Osha’s pained sobs and move that palm on the floor, closer to her, even through the flames of pain. He had to drag his collapsed torso on the ground towards her. It was all he had to do. No matter the pain. No matter the cost. Osha’s weeping pierced the flames, he heard it from far away and yet so close. He could taste the salt of her tears. They filled his wounds and twisted a thousand knives in them, and yet he crawled forward. Just a little closer. Towards Osha, towards the girl who he had saved and who had saved him in return, and would save him countless times more –
Nothing had ever been as heavy as his arms when he reached them towards the helmet in this distorted space of their shared pain. Nothing he could do could ease their pain. Both of their wounds too ancient, too deep for anyone to heal. The damage was done. There was no reason to try to save either of them. They were forever lost in this hell, and he was weak and insignificant in the face of the weight of it all to save them. His arms grew heavier and heavier. He could never climb this mountain of pain…
Osha sobbed, and the sound pierced through the visions. Through the flames of his past, for a moment he saw her. And he ripped the helmet off.
The flames subsided, gone like they had never licked his back in half. He collapsed on Osha’s knees, exhausted to the bone. Somewhere the helmet hit the ground with an ear-shattering but reassuringly real clang.
Above him, Osha whimpered and slowly fell from where she sat. Qimir didn’t have the strength to catch her. She fell on the floor in a pile of limbs next to him. He put his hand on her shoulder and squeezed. When there was no response, he shook her.
“Osha?” he rasped. No response.
With great effort, he raised his head to check her. “Osha?”
She was unconscious. He touched her face with trembling fingers. Her skin was burning hot. She breathed in shallow gasps and her pulse hammered against his fingers on her throat.
At least she was breathing. Qimir collapsed next to her, keeping his hand on her neck to feel her pulse, and tried to return to himself. They were both here. Whatever wounds they had, they could still heal. He would fight like hell to make sure of it. Nothing was lost. With each other, they had everything. And after finally finding her, he was not going to lose her tonight.
Eventually, he got up, picked Osha gingerly to his arms and carried her to the raised bed of hers. He tossed his own improvised bedroll to the pipe opening by the head of Osha’s bed. He would monitor her until she woke up.
He climbed into the pipe, resting his back against the slope of it. Osha’s breathing was slightly easier, but her skin was still burning and her pulse high.
Oh, Osha, he thought. When will you learn?
Whatever she needed in order to learn, he would give it to her. Anything. Anything to earn her trust. To show her that she could let him be there, the next time she would try the helmet. Whatever Osha needed.
Osha woke with a jolt of panic.
“Mae!” she shouted into the empty room. Where was she?
Something touched her shoulder. Terror flashed through her, and before she knew it, she had slammed the attacker away from her. A body hit a wall and tumbled down on the ground from a high bed she had been lying in. She grabbed it again before it could retaliate. Something guided her hand and she held it by the throat, down below where her hand could not reach, but held by her nevertheless. Her hand grasped empty air up where she sat on the strange bed, and down on the ground it gripped the stranger.
The stranger was a he. He was groaning, down on his knees below her, looking up at Osha with bright, if a little bulging, eyes, and a wild, strangely joyful expression.
Ice water filled Osha’s veins when she recognised him. It was the killer from the woods. She grasped him tighter.
“Osha, please,” he gurgled, barely audible. “Osha, it’s me. Osha.”
So he knew her name. So what? She tightened her grip.
If this is how I go, so be it. I’m yours.
The sentiment came out of nowhere. Startled, Osha looked at the man with clearer eyes. He was shaking. A tear fell from his eye. And in his face, there was something Osha could hardly place. Something that had never been directed at her before. Devotion?
With a jolt of panic, Osha woke from the stupor and released her grip like it burned. Qimir collapsed on his knees, gasping for air with a horrifying rasp.
“Oh Force, oh Force, oh Force,” Osha babbled in panic and scrambled to get down from the bed to him on the ground. She kneeled in front of him and took him by the shoulders, lifted him to sit straighter and tried to examine his neck in the dim light of the cave. Frustrated about the dark, she lifted her hand, called a lamp to her, lit it up and slammed it on the ground next to them. Now she could see Qimir and the dazed expression on his face.
“Next time,” he said with a strained voice and an unfittingly goofy smile on his face, “a little less pressure, please.”
“There won’t be a next time,” she said, offended. How could he even suggest such a thing?
“Shame,” he said and got caught in a horrifying coughing fit. Osha raised her hand and called a water container to it, and made him drink until the coughing eased.
“I’m so, so sorry. I don’t know what happened.”
Qimir waved her apology away. “You had a rough night,” he said. The raspy thinness of his voice terrified Osha. He rubbed his throat and Osha could see a dark bruise starting to form where an invisible thumb would have been. Osha felt ill.
“Where is Mae?” she asked to redirect her thoughts. Yes, that was what had awoken her. The hollow feeling of something lost. Her twin all alone out there in the world.
“With the Jedi, I assume.”
“I have to go and get her.
“Osha…”
“I have to.”
“Osha, listen. You’re not in the right time.”
“She's all alone there, she doesn't know who she is, I have to, I can't…”
“Osha! She went willfully, to let you escape,” he said and grabbed Osha’s shoulders for emphasis. His gaze was piercing even in the dim light. “Don't throw it away.”
“No, no, no…”
“I know you're in pain,” he said, holding his grip firmly. “But this is not the time. Osha, listen…”
“Let me go,” she said with sudden coldness.
He dropped his hands immediately. Osha stood, grabbed the light, and ran into the night.
The path to the ship was slippery and dangerous in the dark in the receding tide. The breakwater was barely above water, the waves still crashing over it when she stumbled forward in between the salty sprays. Her thin shirt was soaked from the splashes in no time.
But the vision of her sister beat like a second heartbeat within her and forced her to go on. The ship loomed at the end of the formation, an angled black shape rising from the night. She climbed into the ship, made her way to the cockpit and brushed the wet locks off her face. She snapped the safety belts on, flicked the necessary switches to prep the launch, and ignited the engines. The ship hummed and thrummed around her, eager for takeoff.
Down at the dark shore lit by the headlights she saw his figure, lonely against the backdrop of the rocks. She stared at the shape and willed him to stop her, to drag her away from the cockpit. The figure stood still. The grumbling engines roused mist from the sea that billowed around him, hiding his frame and then revealing it again, unmoving.
Osha cranked the last switches in preparation for the launch. Lights of the cockpit went out, leaving only the blinking of alerts and buttons, readying her for the night flight. Her hand was shaking over the command lever. The ship twitched and growled, ready to shed gravity at her faintest touch. But her eye was fixed on the shape at the breakwater.
Do it, she thought. I dare you to stop me. Just you try and I’ll see to it you’ll never see me again.
The ship was twitching together with her, ready to shoot away from the tiniest provocation. If she just gave the ship the command, she could be out of here in an instant. She could still leave all this behind, she could go find Mae and take her from the Jedi, reunite the two of them like they were meant to be, together, part of the same whole.
The night was dark beyond the headlights of the ship. Steam furled in thick clouds, obscuring his shape, but Osha knew he was there, waiting for her. And that he would be there, still waiting if she ever returned to him.
She gripped the lever. Just a twitch of her wrist, and she would be off. Lights of the cockpit around her twinkled like faraway stars. Her reflection from the window was pleading at her with the sad eyes of her and her twin.
Mae…
With a flick of her wrist, the thrum of the engine died. The ship sighed and settled back into the planet’s gravity. The headlights switched off and darkness claimed the view, only the standby lights remaining in the cockpit. Osha flicked all controls to their rest positions and sat heavily in the chair, hand on the belt buckle of the seat. Tears fell silently on her wet shirt.
Mae really was somewhere out there with the Jedi, lost and alone. And it was not yet the time to go find her. She had been mixing up visions of the future and the present.
And even so, the man waiting for her in the darkness would have let her leave. Even though it was the wrong time. Even though he knew it would have been a suicide mission. Even though it would, inevitably, have led to him being discovered as well. Still, he would have let her.
Slowly Osha freed herself from the belts and got up to shaking legs. She climbed out of the ship and onto the slippery rocks of the breakwater. Air was still warm and heavy from the steam, but with a cold breeze already mixing it up. With heavy steps she walked along the rock, knowing what was waiting for her down the path.
His unmoving shape in the dark raised hairs standing up on Osha’s neck. Even without his helmet and cape, he still was that creature prowling in the night, ready to eliminate anyone daring to oppose him on his path. She lowered her head and resigned to accept whatever punishment she deserved for her insolence.
She stopped in front of him, waiting for retaliation. But when she finally raised her eyes to meet his, there was no fury to be found in them. Instead, she saw sorrow. He raised a hand as if to reach her. A little sway at his feet, no step taken. The hand faltering.
She crumpled first. She took the last steps to reach him, buried her face in his shirt, and let the tears flow. He gathered her close in his arms and let her weep her sorrow in the darkness of the night, the ship still tinkling at the end of the pier as the engines cooled down and settled to rest.
With the tears, she was finally fully in the present. She recognised the man embracing her. She knew who she herself was. And she knew that even though Mae was somewhere out there, lost and alone, she needed to respect her sacrifice and wait until the time was right.
Until then, it was him and this man, together trying to find a way.