"Hailing Fury-class ship. This is Hoth Substation. We read your approach."
The crackling voice across the comm jerked Andronikos out of his flight-induced trance and he snatched up the mic. "This is the Vengeance, requesting clearance to dock."
"And what is your business on Hoth?" The Imperial voice was as chilly as the planet they were approaching, but Andronikos was unimpressed.
"You'd have to ask our resident Sith, Lord Kallig. She calls the shots. I can summon her if you want, though she might not appreciate being disturbed."
"No, no. No need for that. Permission to dock granted. We're always eager to serve our honored Sith."
'Honored Sith' is right, he snickered, guess fancy ranks had their advantages. One mention of the Sith's title and the Imperial stooge went from cold to complacent in less time than it took for him to draw a blaster. Better let her know we're docking, he thought. She was training in the cargo hold and he'd hate for a sudden jolt to cause a mishap with her lightsaber.
As he walked down the hall he was surprised to hear faint singing that grew louder as he approached the closed door of the hold. That was odd as well, normally the Sith left it open when she practiced. Pressing his ear to the door to listen, it sounded like one of those hoity-toity operas he'd heard back on Drommund Kaas. Not usually his thing, but this one was different.
The voice danced from note to note like sunlight on water, playful and trilling. It lifted and swooped, diving down before rising high and clear again. He closed his eyes and birds appeared behind his closed lids, their flight choreographed to the joyous song.
He wasn't sure how long he leaned against the cold metal but when the song went silent for several heartbeats he finally knocked on the door. "Heya Sith!" K'isha, you call her K'isha. The whispering thought made him shiver but he shrugged it off. Not getting attached, he reminded himself, though he'd lost count of how many times he'd had to do so.
"Enter."
Walking into the hold he noted the smell of ozone, as well as the charge in the air that raised the hair on his arms. Lord Kallig was still tensed with her staff ready to strike, but once she saw it was him her stance relaxed and a smirk flitted across her mouth.
"Hello Pirate." Her red eyes gleamed as she shook her silver hair from her face. "Here to offer up better ways to work-out?"
"Always up for that," he quipped. "Probably don't have time. We're docking at the Hoth station."
"Oh." There was a flash of disappointment in her eyes, but she quickly turned to her training dummy and examined the charred fabric. "Good to hear it. I'll ready my cold-weather armor." When she looked back at him her expression was guarded, "Anything else?"
"No, that was it." He knew he should head back to the bridge but didn't want to leave just yet. "Actually there is something else. Can I borrow that holo?"
"Holo, what holo?" she asked, seeming genuinely confused.
"That recording you were playing a minute ago. I mean, opera's usually too stuffy for me, but that one seemed alright."
She stared at him baffled, head still tilted, then suddenly she looked shocked. Ducking her head down she hunched her shoulders and muttered, "You heard that?"
He didn't understand her reaction but nodded. "Yeah. If you don't want to loan it out I can look it up on the net. Just need to know where it's from." Then he noticed there wasn't any holo-devices in the room and revelation brought a stunned smile to his face. "Whoa, was that you?"
She stayed awkwardly silent, busying herself with a small crate of crystals and he walked closer, asking again, "Was that you?"
"Yes," she replied heatedly. "And I'll thank you not to mention it."
"Whoa, no need to get defensive." He shrugged as he moved towards her. "Been holding out on me Sith? You have a great voice. Where'd you learn that?"
"I was..." She was still avoiding his gaze, more self-conscious than he'd ever seen her. "I was owned by a Pureblood family for awhile. They always played operas, and I began singing along even though I didn't know what the words meant."
"Did they like having a songbird around?" He tried teasing, but when she raised her head anger and defiance flashed in her eyes.
"No, they didn't," she snapped, "How dare I, a lowly slave, deem myself worthy enough to sing such revered music?" Her hand went to her shoulder and started rubbing it. "They acted like I'd defiled something and punished me for it."
"Bet that's why you do it now," he said softly, and the angry light faded as she nodded.
"You understand."
"Smarter than I look," he chuckled, and a smile tugged at her lips.
"That first night here on the Vengeance I poured through holo-channels, trying to decide what music I liked. Never had a chance to make that kind of decision before. I always came back to opera, most likely for what it represented."
He surprised himself by reaching for her hand, and faint sparks tingled up his arm as he grinned at her. "How'd you feel about an audience?"
Her eyes widened again and he tightened his fingers around hers gently to keep her from pulling back. "No I couldn't," she insisted. "I don't really know what I'm singing and my pitch is probably off."
"Who cares?" he exclaimed, "You make your own rules now remember?" He winked, trying to lighten the mood. "I don't want to have to skulk past while you 'practice' just to catch a few notes. And you can't really prefer performing to an empty room over me?"
"The room listens better," she teased, then laughed at his mock-wounded look. "Alright, just a little. But only because I know how easily your feelings are hurt."
Closing her eyes she took a deep breath, centering herself. Then after another inhale she began singing. It was quiet at first and she faltered for a moment, but soon it grew stronger. More poignant than her first song, it was full of longing, and even though he didn't know the words, he knew they were a plea. He closed his eyes too, letting her voice fill the room and surround him.
It wasn't long before he was swaying to it, his body attuned to every change in pitch. He craned upward when it soared, fell back on his heels when it plummeted, the whole time tethered to reality by the soft touch of her hand in his. It was only after a crescendo crowned with a note so high it caused the nearby crystals to hum that she finally tapered to a stop and he opened his eyes.
Her pale skin was radiant as if she was lit from within. He'd seen her glowing with energy before, usually in battle, but this was different. She seemed at peace, serene. Leaning down he brushed his mouth to hers in a brief yet gentle kiss and her eyes slowly opened.
"Thank you," he murmured as he stroked her cheek. "That was amazing."
"Glad you enjoyed it," she replied with a sigh, leaning her forehead on his shoulder.
Something about the gesture made his chest feel heavy and light all at once and his free arm slid around her waist. Her slight frame tucked in neatly under his chin, making it easy for him stroke another kiss into her silky hair as they shared the silence. Then there was a shuddering bump as the ship docked and they peeled apart reluctantly.
"We're here, should head up front," he stated and she nodded briskly as he walked to the door. Pausing for just a moment, he gave her one last grin. "You know, if you'd ever like an audience again..."
"I'll keep you in mind Pirate," she chuckled before her expression softened and she murmured, "I usually do."
Unsure of what to say – or how to handle the thickness in his throat - he winked at her and walked back up to the bridge. Still not getting attached? Part of him wondered as he settled into the pilot's chair. Nope... attachment didn't begin to describe how he felt.