Kyra ran across her backyard, her feet sinking into the plush grass as the sun began to set. Giggling, she turned back towards her little sister, Nara, who came running clumsily towards her.
"Get back here, Rebel Scum!" Nara ran, hardly able to control her giddy laughter despite their rather combative game.
Out of the corner of her eye, Kyra saw her father staring pensively at them when while they played their game. He'd only come outside to call them in for dinner, the sun was setting – casting a brilliant orange light across the sky.
As Kyra ran, she felt the earth underneath her feet, hardly paying attention to where she stepped, as she trusted herself to navigate the landscape, hopping over a small boulder that was nearly concealed in the darkened yard.
"Kyra! Slow down!" Nara whined, her gait growing sloppy. Before it even happened, Kyra reached out….but it was too late. Nara's foot caught on the rock and she plummeted to the ground. The game over, Kyra ran towards her sister, who clutched her knee to her chest.
Looking up, she saw her father barreling towards them, and Kyra took hesitant steps back as he scooped her little sister up in his arms and glared at her. "What did I tell you about these games?" he asked, turning before Kyra could answer.
"I-I'm sorry…." Kyra managed, but it was too late. Staring at his retreating form, Kyra felt tears well up in her eyes. Her father was always mad at her for something. To him, she'd never be able to do anything right, she knew that was how she felt.
Rather than go inside, Kyra retreated and sat on the shoreline of the beach where the grass met the sand next to their home and frowned, curling her knees to her chest. The sun dipped below the horizon, allowing the moon to cast its light on the lake and let her reflect in her own thoughts. It felt like she'd been alone for hours when she heard quiet footsteps retreating behind her.
"Kiki," she heard her grandmother, Zatre's soft voice from behind.
Kyra picked individual blades of grass with her hands, ripping them in two one by one, pursing her lips. "I already know what you're going to say," Kyra frowned, furrowing her brows, refusing to look back at the older woman.
"I don't think you do," she said, sitting down next to her granddaughter's hunched form. Kyra continued to mutilate grass blades until her grandmother broke the silence.
"Look at me, Kyra." Kyra did so begrudgingly, furrowing her eyebrows as she made eye contact. Zatre chuckled. "You know, you are just like your mother. So stubborn."
Frowning, she looked out towards the water. "Is Nara okay?"
"She just scraped her knee. Nothing your father can't fix." Kyra nodded, not responding as she looked up at the stars. "I made your favorite for dinner."
"I'm not coming in." Kyra said. "Papa hates me."
Clucking her tongue, her grandmother sighed. "Your father is doing his best to look out for you and your sister. He misses your mother. Someday-"
"I'll understand." Kyra finished her sentence, looking over at Zatre. She had heard it a thousand times before. Every time her father would grow frustrated with her, her grandmother would assure her everything was fine; he was just looking out for them, he was still sad about her mother, she'd understand it all someday.
Zatre sighed. "Kyra, there is so much more you have to learn. About your mother. About yourself. But you must be patient. You still need to grow."
Kyra huffed, though her mind dwelled on her grandmother's words.
"Should we go inside?" the older woman asked, standing. In her face held decades of knowledge; pain, happiness, experience. Despite her age, there was a strength to her; confidence. Kyra wished she could learn how to hold herself in the same regard. Zatre held out her hands to the little girl who sat next to her. Although she was not her blood, she loved her just the same.
Kyra nodded, taking her hand hesitantly as they made their way inside. In the dim light of the cozy kitchen, her father sat in front of Nara, who was perched on the counter, giggling. Her father secured a bandage around her knee.
"There you go," he tapped her leg, helping her down from the table. "All better. Now go get washed up for dinner." Glancing over, he noticed Kyra in the doorway. His voice hardened. "You too, Kyra."
Kyra nodded quickly and obliged, walking past him to the small hallway that led to the refresher. It wasn't constructive to argue or disobey, especially not now. But when she heard her father whispering to her grandmother in the kitchen, she paused in the darkened hallway, just out of sight.
"I thought we agreed no more stories. If it weren't for you this never would have happened."
She saw the light from the bathroom flicker on and the faucet run as her sister washed her hands. "It's just a scratched knee, Sven," her grandmother responded, sounding confident.
"It's not about her scratched knee. You can't go filling their minds up with nonsense. Especially not Kyra. You should know to be more careful," her father argued back, their voices still not rising louder than a hushed tone.
"It's not nonsense, it's the truth….. And sooner or later, she's going to find out. No matter how long you try to conceal it," her grandmother stood strong, challenging her son.
Kyra could almost hear her father shaking his head in response. Find out what? She murmured to herself, thinking about what they could have possibly meant. But she was interrupted by her happy-go-lucky sister who skipped down the hallway, dark hair tumbling over her shoulders.
"Kiki!" her sister said happily. "Will we finish the game tomorrow?"
Frowning slightly, she shook her head. "You heard Papa. No more games, Nara."
Kyra woke slowly, hazily, her body curled up in a fetal position. Lazily taking in her surroundings, it took her a moment to register where she was, until she recognized the tiny hotel room. Hoth. It had been frigid, so cold. But for some reason, she didn't feel chilled to the bone as she had earlier. Why not?
She became aware suddenly of the warmth she was pressed up against, the weight on her shoulder. Poe.
Sometime while they were sleeping, he'd slung his arm across her shoulder, pulling her back against his chest. Upon realizing this, Kyra's whole body grew uncomfortably hot, her cheeks flushing. Her whole body felt like it was on fire and carefully, without waking him, she slipped out from under his arm and sat up, sliding off the bed.
Glancing back, she saw she hadn't disturbed him; he was still sleeping soundly. Tilting her head, she observed him, his usually tidy hair falling in his closed eyes. Kyra resisted the overwhelming urge to reach out and brush the wayward dark curls away from his face, something unfamiliar stirring in the pit of her stomach. Brushing it aside, she turned away from Poe and treaded lightly to the fresher.
She was quite embarrassed at the predicament she'd just found herself in, splashing some cold water on her face, the chill of the room hitting her again. Kyra knew it was foolish to be embarrassed; on Poe's behalf it was likely unconscious, he had just been cold. On the other hand, Kyra chuckled to herself, knowing that many in The Resistance would probably not object to Poe Dameron spooning them, even if it was just an accident. She decided not to worry about it.
After brushing her teeth, and taking a hot shower, Kyra dressed herself for the day, towel drying her hair. The running water must have woken Poe, because when she exited her room he'd woken, stretching as he perched on the side of the bed.
"Morning," he offered her an ornery smile, and Kyra felt her stomach twist. Did he remember? She ignored it and acted as casual as she could.
"Morning," she quipped back lightly, keeping her voice even. She stepped towards him hesitantly as he approached her. "Are you feeling okay? ….After the crash yesterday?"
Poe nodded, his eyes fluttering shut for a moment as he stood across from her, carefully moving forward. "I'm doing alright, are you?"
Kyra gave him an easy smile. "I'm okay, I just wanted to double-check you didn't have any headaches or anything that may have risen overnight?"
"I'm okay, Kyra," Poe shook his head, and she retreated to her bag in the corner of the room where she put the clothes she had worn to bed. "Did you sleep well?" he asked, standing up and lazily throwing the covers back in place.
Kyra nodded. After yesterday's events, she could have slept well regardless of their place they were staying; she had been exhausted. "Yeah, it was nice."
"Good," he murmured, running his fingers through his unkempt hair. "I'll get ready, you should eat something quickly and then we can get going."
It only took them about a half hour to get ready, pack up, and eat quickly before they checked out of the inn. The storm from the night before had died down, but the streets were covered in high banks of snow that glittered in the uncharacteristically sunny sky. Despite the sun, it was still freezing, and Kyra followed Poe wordlessly, trudging through the white-covered ground. She had to basically march to make it through, which was proving to be difficult because her body was sore from the shock of the crash yesterday.
"What are we going to do about your ship?" she broke the silence.
"We'll need to pick up some supplies at a shop," Poe wrinkled his nose. I'd be nice though, if we could get a ride back to the ship. If The First Order has any idea we're here, we'll be screwed if they find us. We'll never make it back on foot."
Kyra felt her stomach drop. This was a top-secret mission, she hadn't even told Philomela she was leaving, just her supervisor. Maybe the others in the medical bay would infer what she was doing because of her absence, but she just hoped there was no way Terex could find them again. This time they didn't exactly have strength in numbers, or even a working ship.
"But first," Poe began, "We need to focus on why we're here. The man we're supposed to see lives just on the outskirts of town. It'll be safer for us out there, most people are friends of The Resistance, retired Alliance fighters."
Kyra let this soak in, thinking about what Poe had told her the night before. Luke Skywalker. She'd sit on the edge of her bed, leaning against her grandmother's firm, strong frame. Captivated, she'd listen to the stories about The Rebellion; The Force, The Jedi. It was such a distant memory. The galaxy was so much bigger than anything she could fathom, so much bigger than her modest childhood home, her father's farm. Beyond Dantooine there was so much more.
The walk to the man's home wasn't nearly as far as the walk into town had been, and since the storm had died down not nearly as treacherous. But she'd spent enough time on Hoth to know she never planned on visiting again.
Poe and Kyra entered the settlement, and she felt him grow tense, something he usually did a good job of concealing. The small cluster of worn-down homes seemed vacant of people, most of them likely inside staying close to the fire. Of course, maybe she was the only one who could sense it, they'd been partnered together for a couple months now, and she felt she was getting to know him as more than just a colleague. He was a friend, her partner in a sense.
There was smoke filtering out of the chimney of the small house Poe pointed out, letting them know that someone was inside. Poe lifted his hand and knocked on the door. Kyra sensed the presence of the person on the other side of the door, and suddenly it felt like a part of her future was in there, waiting.
Hey all, sorry for the delay. I had a bit of writer's block. Please let me know what you think!