"Mira?"
The younger woman lifted her head at the sound of the Exile's voice, squinting and throwing up an arm to shield her eyes against the sudden light.
"Sorry. Did I wake you?"
Easing herself up into a sitting position, she shook her head, scrubbing at her eyes with the heels of her hands.
"No," she lied, "I mean, I wasn't really sleeping, anyway. What do you want now?"
The Exile cringed at the venom in the bounty hunter's tone. Part of her wanted nothing more to than to retreat and abandon the whole affair. But she owed Mira this consideration, at least, after all the risks that the younger woman had taken for the Exile's sake both planet-side and aboard Goto's yacht, and for the damage she had taken on that account as well. Taking a deep breath, the ex-Jedi continued.
"I just… I wanted to… apologize. For before."
Surprise killed whatever sharp retort Mira had been nursing on her tongue, and she blinked owlishly in response, instead.
"Oh. That. Well, whatever, don't worry about it. It's just- a sore subject with me."
The Exile bit her lip.
"Still, I'm sorry. For bringing it up in the first place, and, well- that you lost your family at Malachor at all."
For an awkward moment, neither spoke, cowed into silence by the sheer size of the elephant in the room. Finally, Mira shrugged.
"Yeah, well, they're dead. That's how that story ends. We can't change the past, so there's really no point in talking about it any more."
The Exile nodded, letting out a breath she didn't realize she'd been holding.
"Right. Stories of the Mandalorian Wars can only end in tragedy. Now, may I have a look at that wound?"
Wordlessly, the younger woman scooted across to the edge of the bunk, offering her bandaged side for inspection. The Exile knelt, grateful for something to distract her hands and mind with. For a long time, neither spoke. When Mira finally broke the silence, her voice was distant and musing.
"No. You're wrong. Not everybody's story has to end with losing their loved ones. Just like not all the bounty hunting I do is for criminals and killers."
The Exile paused, looking up from the bandages and frowning slightly.
"What do you mean?"
Mira twisted to look down at her.
"There's a lot of lost people out there, scattered across the galaxy ever since the Mandalorian Wars. Sometimes… it's like you can almost hear them. Like an echo, calling out for each other. And maybe, just maybe, by finding them, I can start putting the galaxy back together."
The Exile chewed thoughtfully at her lip, turning the statement over in her mind. Echoes… She was certainly familiar with such things, but that was only because… Putting the thought to the side for the moment, she answered cautiously.
"All things are connected through the Force. From such acts of kindness, great things may come."
Mira snorted doubtfully, shaking her head.
"Maybe. We'll see. Aw, I don't even know why I'm telling you this. But you're not getting anything else out of me."
The Exile smiled disarmingly, holding up her hands in mock defeat before turning her attention back to her task, still musing over the bounty hunter's words. Silence fell again as the Exile continued her ministrations, and Mira twitched and fidgeted surreptitiously. Finally, the ex-Jedi looked up, frowning lightly in concern.
"You seem restless. Is everything alright?"
Mira sighed, brows knitting slightly.
"Yeah. It's just- it's all this traveling. Being trapped in this ship. Everything's… everything's too quiet. Ow!"
She winced at the sting of the disinfectant, and the Exile tightened her lips in sympathy as she swabbed carefully at the wound.
"Sorry. What do you mean, 'too quiet?'"
"I'd rather be doing something. Somewhere with people, activity… some life.
"Like Nar Shaddaa?"
"Yeah. It's been awhile since I've been off-planet. I guess I got used to it."
"How so?"
"Well, Nar Shaddaa may be one of the biggest cesspits in the galaxy, but… it's got a life to it. Activity. Aliens, people, refugees… it's like noise, but relaxing. Like the hum of a hyperdrive."
Despite the insistent re-emergence of her earlier notions, the Exile managed a sardonic little smirk, feeling slightly awkward with the long-unused expression plastered across her face.
"More like a screaming, broken hyperdrive that carries a vibroblade and hits you up for credits. Or the tortured groaning of a trash compactor."
Mira chuckled dryly.
"Wow. She has a sense of humor. Who would have guessed? Well, say what you want. Home is home."
The Exile smiled, tying off the fresh bandage and scooting back on her knees to examine her handiwork.
"Can't argue with that logic. But yes, I think I know what you mean. And… there's something I'd like to show you when we land, if you'll let me."
Mira's mouth twisted into a skeptical half-smile.
"All right. But I doubt you're going to show me anything I don't already know. And when you show me? Don't act like a tourist. It attracts predators."
"What's wrong? Why are you stopping?"
Running a hand lightly along the railing surrounding the square's central pit, the Exile smiled to herself.
"This is the place. Close your eyes. I want you to stand here- and listen."
Mira glanced at the spot doubtfully.
"All right. This is not going to hurt, is it?"
The Exile chuckled dryly.
"No, it's not. Just close your eyes."
Giving her a final, dubious look, the young woman snapped her eyes shut. Taking a deep breath and letting it out slowly, the ex-Jedi began, summoning up her master's words as best as she could remember them.
"Feel the currents here on Nar Shaddaa, the ebb of life. A simple kindness can be given to another."
She could almost hear Kreia's voice, whispering just out of hearing as she repeated her teacher's words.
"This is the Force. And all our choices, from the greatest to the smallest, affect each other. And the echoes travel. Feel these people, this planet around you. Do not turn away- face it."
Mira's face twitched. Sweat was beginning to stand out in beads along her brow.
"Awaken, Mira."
The words seemed almost to act as a trigger, shattering the last vestiges of the proverbial haze. The bounty hunter doubled over, clutching at her temples and groaning in pain.
"I can feel this… planet… I-I can't shut it out… it's… it's louder now… it hurts! All these people…"
Seizing the young woman by the shoulders, the Exile gave her a light shake.
"Steady, Mira. Focus on my voice. Pick it out from all the others. Find my voice. Do you hear it? Follow it back down. Close your ears to everything else. Come on, now. Focus."
Gradually, Mira's tremors ceased, and her ragged breathing evened out. Easing her eyes open, she straightened up, staring at the older woman with a mixture of wonder and fear. The Exile favored her with a weak smile, patting her gently on the shoulder before withdrawing her grip.
"See? I can teach you to shut it out. There are techniques for calming the mind. What you just felt was the Force, and all of the lives it touches here on Nar Shaddaa. All Jedi have that potential. iYou/i have that potential."
The information took a few minutes to sink in. For a moment, Mira stammered incomprehensibly before managing to get out something resembling her usual sarcasm.
"But if… if I become a Jedi- I'll have to turn myself in for the credits."
The Exile shrugged, a playful half-smile creeping across her face.
"Well, as a Jedi, trust me, you'll always be short on credits. But generally, that'll be the least of your worries."
Mira laughed breathlessly, shaking her head in equal parts exhilaration and disbelief.
"Are you going to train me?"
"Only if you want me to. I can't force you down that path if you don't want-"
The vehemence with which the young woman answered startled the Exile into silence.
"No, that's what I want, I'm sure of it, more than anything. I want to become like you. I want to be strong! I don't want to be afraid or alone anymore. I… I… I don't want to keep running, and looking, and never feel like I'm finding what I'm looking for. I'm tired of being hunted!"
Stepping back abruptly and closing her eyes, Mira shook her head, struggling to bring her breathing under control. One hand grasped the railing, releasing it as she spoke as if to illustrate her point.
"When the galaxy takes something from me, I want the power to let go… and I want the power to heal the echo when it's gone."
For the briefest of instants, the echo of Malachor shrieked across the Exile's mind, and she jerked away, closing her eyes and turning as it passed to lean against the railing for support. She felt old, somehow, in that instant, and immeasurably weary.
"One can live their whole life with such echoes, Mira. But I can try to teach you to accept them."
Hesitantly, a hand crept lightly onto her shoulder, and the Exile looked up to find Mira standing beside her. For the first time since they'd met, the young woman's smile was genuine.
"That sounds all right from where I'm standing."