Chapter Text
Entry 1145.3: *Today, I heard the most disturbing sound- the Force itself crying out for me.*
Ben keeps his eyes down at his work station. His fingers steady as his cleaver removes flesh from bone.
Perhaps I should try baking? Certainly Nora would like something with fruit.
The hours tick by, the sun beating against Ben’s worn back. Once, a warrior surrounded by kind, familiar peers, now a simple man trying to provide for himself. The Force seems to stand still in moments like these.
Then he feels it- a whooshing ghost of a breath against his neck. His hands still.
His heart thuds, breath shortens, and a feeling of dread crawls down his spine. Ben takes a step back.
This fear…it isn’t mine.
But it only gets worse. Suddenly he can't get enough air. Ben places his tool down, leaning heavily against the table as he wills himself not to pass out. He looks behind him, out into the vast openness of the desert. He reaches his senses out as far as he can.
There’s a moment of stillness- then he is hit with a feeling of horror. He hears her scream.
“Nora!”
He barely has the foresight to give an excuse to his supervisor. Forgetting to clock out, Ben speeds off.
Ben doesn’t bother parking the speeder. Instead he comes to a violent stop, stumbles off, shouting for Nora. He opens the door to find her standing over his closed trunk.
She turns, pale and shivering.
“What happened?”
Nora looks at him in the eyes, then flinches back, avoiding his gaze. The only sound in the room is her controlled, heavy breaths.
I'm sick.
He kneels before her and cups her forehead with the back of his hand.
“You are awfully warm…”
She shuts her eyes, her hands balled into tight fists.
“How long have you been feeling this way?”
She looks at him like he grew a second head. He goes anxiously quiet for a moment.
“Stars above…sit down. Sit down.”
Nora obeys, dropping her head in her hands for a moment. She’s trembling.
I threw up…
Shivering but warm, pale, heavy breathing, upset stomach…came rather suddenly… possibly heat stroke?
But there’s something else. Her presence in the Force- frayed like burnt wires.
This cannot be.
“How long were you outside? Nora, if something happened…you can tell me.”
She looks at him- in such a strange way that makes him pause. It was like she was seeing through him.
I don’t feel well…
I should have noticed sooner.
Ben knows- he knows there’s something wrong. But at the sickly color of her skin and the pained look on her face his priority is getting her well.
The Force, in this case, can wait. She can not.
So instead of pressing he gives her a serious nod.
“Then to Adelaide’s, yes?”
And quickly too.
Medical Log (Patient 50432) *Nora has come in very ill. All signs point to a heat stroke- all efforts are being made to replenish her fluids. Signs of shock are also present. The patient was administered electrolytes via intravenous fluid injections. She will be observed overnight. (Note: Mr. Kenobi estimates Nora is going through a rather difficult emotional low, leading to an argument this morning, which caused her to stay outside longer than she was supposed to. Given his level of anxiety about her health, I have no reason currently to doubt him.)*
Medical Log (Patient 50432) *Other than the dehydration, the patient has gained a healthy amount of weight and muscle since her last visit, and is clearly well taken care of.*
The door slides open to reveal Ben, disheveled, bags under his eyes. Nora is curled up in the dusty old bed, facing away from him. There’s a few wrappings on her outstretched arm from where the IV was inserted.
With a weary sigh he walks over, gently moving her legs so he can sit at the edge of her bed.
Nora glares at the wall next to her.
“Care to tell me what happened today?”
Silence. Though he knows it's more than the usual he expects from her.
“Your aura is…fractured, to put it mildly. Physical illness I could very much understand, but this is something else.”
Her face looks impassive, almost bored with the conversation.
Please talk to me.
Ben leans forward and rubs his eyes. Then his hand drifts to his beard in thought.
“Next time, please take proper precautions for yourself. I…forget sometimes. That this world isn’t built for you.”
He stands, walking back to the door, where he pauses for a moment.
“When you are ready to talk, I’ll be here this time. I promise.”
He leaves Nora to her thoughts.
As soon the door hisses shut, Nora turns around to look at it.
Nora lets out one shuddering breath, trying her best not to cry. She fails, a single tear trailing down her face in betrayal.
Entry 1145.6: *Adelaide brought up the possibility of elective vocal reconstruction surgery to Nora today. I was prepared for resistance, but didn’t go terribly, at least at first. She admitted it was something she never considered. Nora has never known a life beyond her silence, and I don’t believe she experiences it as a loss others may assume. She was tired after the entire ordeal, that much was for sure. As she recovers, I find myself wondering if she will consider it.*
Entry 1146.2: *I returned home with Nora this morning. Despite Nora’s desire to hide from me for the night, I’ve placed her on a strict regimen. Fluids, food and nutrients to make sure her body is fully recovered. I don’t think I’ve ever seen her so confrontational before. I don’t know what has gotten into her. Perhaps she is simply embarrassed from the ordeal? I do hope that whatever it is, we can speak about it in time. For her sake, if nothing else.*
Entry 1148.9: *We had a discussion about respecting the limits of one's body. Nora seemed irritated with the entire conversation, and I can’t say if it was indeed productive. I find myself uncertain as to how to reach her lately. We cannot afford to have another incident like this one- particularly if I’m not home. At the moment, Nora’s punishment of cleaning the eopie pens has been suspended indefinitely. I am not convinced discipline is what she needs at the moment.*
Entry 1149.2: *Neda is approximately 3 months into her pregnancy. Although Attikus remains as stubborn as ever, he seems to allow Nora near her with little issue. I noticed Nora hugging the creature's neck today, resting her head on her for quite some time. I didn’t interrupt. But I do wonder what kind of thoughts go through her head as of late. She seems to have more difficult days than normal lately, even if she tries to hide it from me.*
Entry 1150.7: *Luke is well. I had a chance to spot him during Nora’s training. I know he yearns to fly- he is always tinkering with the toys I leave him. He wants to know how things work, how to make them go faster. I can’t help but think of someone else who once did the same.*
Entry 1154.5: *We argued again tonight. As she left, I could feel the Force pressing on her like some kind of dark, oppressive cloud that clung too close. I don’t believe she’s truly angry at me necessarily, but I can’t say where the feelings are meant to land. If I can’t reach her soon, I fear the distance between us will be something I won’t know how to navigate anymore.*
Entry 1160.9: *Tonight seemed almost peaceful. We played Dejarik. I’m proud to write that despite recent events, her skills have improved. I will take comfort where I find it.*
Nora leans against the table, head in her hand as she watches Ben move his creature on the holo board.
She pauses, thinking a moment, before moving hers in response.
Clever. Good…but not quite
Ben makes his move, a trap set to snap.
Nora’s eyes narrow a bit, and in that moment he’s aware the jig is up. She scowls, moving once more.
Ben raises a brow.
“I know you saw that move. Yet you chose to play right into it.”
She nods, looking down forlornly. Her fire seemingly died out.
Ah. I see.
Ben moves his creature back, creating an opening.
Nora’s ears flick up, her figure moves, picking up Ben’s creature and winning the match. Ben gives her a small smile at her shocked face.
You let me win.
He nods.
“I thought you needed a win.”
She raises a brow.
It wasn't real.
“Perhaps not, but you played well, young one. In this case, I am happy to take the loss.”
He holds out his hand and she tilts her head, confused. Then she realizes, and reaches out to shake it.
Deep in the Tatooine desert lies the Outlands- a dead place with cracked, scorched earth and nothing else for miles. Yet in the silence and the heatwaves that rise over the ground, an Imperial transport arrives.
It whirls, hovering high above the desert floor before the ground beneath it shifts. A hidden platform rises to meet the vessel, locking into place.
Then the entire structure sinks smoothly into the ground. A secret Imperial settlement, hidden away like it never existed.
The ramp is lowered, and Tamalok storms forward, her cape billowing behind her. A few paces from her, Roman appears. He stands as proud as ever- posture rigid, chin lifted. Yet the slight hitch in his stance when Tamalok starts to speak gives him away.
“I have orders from Admiral Thrawn. I will be overseeing this project. Direct me to the head offices.”
The trooper briskly ushers her and her landing party to the back of the structure. There, a turbolift waits for them. The doors slide shut, the lift descends, and it carries them deep beneath the surface.
Roman glances at the back of Tamalok’s head, then looks away, before peeking again.
“You’re not subtle, Captain,” she said without turning. “If you have something to say, say it.”
“I was…unaware of the scope of this project.”
“Ah.”
The lift opens to reveal a darkened hallway. Plain, cold, but smelling of sweat and recycled air. Tamalok walks forward, her boots echoing across the hall.
“The Empire has been after this planet for a long time. It sits at the heart of Hutt territory.”
She stops in front of a sealed door.
“Why not take it by force? A forward campaign-“
She scoffs, cutting him off.
“A waste of resources. Chaos rules this planet. To bring order, we must first bring control.”
Tamalok’s red eyes turn to him slightly, as if she just noticed him. Her voice was soft, cruel.
"Something you clearly lack.”
He chokes on his words and she opens the door. Inside are huge pods, with people inside. These people look emaciated, skin tight over bone, like corpses floating in amber liquid.
Roman licks his lips nervously.
“Explain.”
“This…dear Captain, is control.”
She points to the tubes flowing out of the prisoners.
“Tatooine’s water trade is the only thing that matters in the grand scheme of things. These prisoners have enough water in their bodies to help our supply dilemma.”
“So the water we’ve been drinking on base…been showering in…?”
“Precisely- siphoned fresh from the rabble. Once you control the trade, you control the people, and every life you own is power stolen from the Hutts.”
Tamalok pauses in front of one of the pods. The man inside has his head bowed low, his wrinkled body appearing mummified, though a distinct number nine tattoo can be seen on the back of his head.
“Every rat drained is a blaster bolt to the hide of a slug.”
She turns back to the horrified Captain with a calm smirk. Reaching out an unsettlingly gentle hand, she pushes a single strand of hair out of his moist, ashen face.
“In the meantime, I’ll arrange for a barber- I won’t have my Captain violating the grooming code.”