"Neither have I," Thrawn said with a slight inflection, as if the idea had never occurred to him before.
With the words being said, Sola felt a pull toward him, like she had when she was playing with him at the gala. It came from her core, like a rope tied around her waist, and filled her with the desire to move closer to him. She indulged in it by leaning forward slightly, keeping her eyes on his.
"Your secrets are safe with me," she whispered, more out of the need to answer him with something than to reassure him.
He inclined his head toward her in that way he had that she knew meant acquiescence. She liked it when he did that. She especially liked it when he did it with that tiny smile he had. He was not smiling at the moment. She could easily read people, she knew what they were feeling much of the time. He was harder than most, with a perpetual sense of calm that came from him and the muted feelings that might be carried with it. She did not know how he did it, if it was because of his species, or the way his mind worked, or just how he was made up. But she had to pay very close attention to the calm, like sifting through nuts and bolts to find the right match, before she caught the emotion he was feeling at the time.
"As are yours," he said.
Her heart grew warm with gratitude that she knew was not entirely hers. "Thank you," she said with one of her genuine, sunny smiles. There was a long silence between them as they looked at each other. Sola couldn't tell if he was expecting her to speak or if he was just examining her the way he seemed to examine everything around him.
It was he that broke the silence. "I would like to hear some of your poetry."
The sentence took her by surprise. She blinked and sat up straight. "My poetry?" she asked.
"You said Emperor Palpatine told you that you wrote beautiful poetry," he said, his face neutral. "I would like to hear it."
She felt herself blushing and smiled proudly, ducking her head a little. She knew the Astarraxian markings on her face and neck would be starting to show. They always did when she was flushed. "It would be very rude of me to read my own poetry at tea," she admitted. Her brain ran at a mile a minute, going through her courtesy lessons to think when would be an appropriate time to read her own poetry aloud that wasn't spontaneous. "But I can arrange a digestif and read it after our evening meal," she decided. They could move into a different room for the drinks, if need be, letting those who wished to leave the table to do so. She would prefer less of an audience with her own poetry, anyway.
Thrawn nodded and then stood. She stood after him politely, clasping her hands in front of her. "I shall see you at the evening meal, then," he said before turning from her and walking away.
No sooner had he left the sitting room, a loud BOOM resounded from all around her, shaking the dwelling. She flung her arms out instinctively to keep her balance. A picture fell from the wall and broke into several pieces at her feet, she could feel the shards of it hitting the top of her foot and ankles where the skin was exposed. At the same time, several blood curdling screams, mixed with confused shouts and barking orders, drifted in from outside.
Another loud boom echoed through the valley, followed by several crashes. This one left Sola's ears ringing. She ran out of the house, her balance slightly off from the tinnitus. Emerging into the sunshine, she saw two of the speeders had blown up, pieces of them lying around the courtyard. A large stack of crates was on fire, and several people were lying, unmoving, on the ground.
Glancing around, she could not see either Thrawn or Uriellien in the chaos of running stormtroopers. For a moment, her heart was in her throat, making it hard to breathe, the feeling of being utterly alone trying to engulf her. Her mind went blank as to what to do, not seeing her brother anywhere filled her with panic. The burning stack of crates fell over, splaying burning material over the courtyard. Two of them rammed into another stack of crates next to it, sending them crashing to the ground. A soldier out of armor was underneath it when it fell, the screams knocked Sola out of her stupor.
The panic receded as her hearing started to come back and her brain took hold of the situation in front of her. Training kicked back in as she scanned the courtyard. Assess the situation, triage, move! She ran to the stack of crates. Seeing a stormtrooper trapped by the arm under one of the heavy boxes, she darted over to him, her body crouched instinctively from years of practice. Another explosion sent her sprawling into the orange sand.
She kept her eyes on the trapped stormtrooper, crawling forward until she could get her feet back under her to run the rest of the way. She grasped the edge of the crate near his arm and tried to lift it. It didn't budge.
"My lady!" the trooper yelled. "Get down!"
She ignored him, grabbing a pole of debris and jamming it under the crate near his arm. Using it as a lever, she pulled down. She couldn't feel any movement. Desperately, she collapsed on it, using all of her body weight to pull down on the lever. The heavy crate lifted and the stormtrooper pulled his arm out.
"My lady, you have to get back in the house!" the trooper told her.
"Your arm!" she shouted over the din.
"It'll be fine." He moved it up and down to show her.
She knew damn well there was no way it was fine, but it was fine enough for now. She gave him a small push on his chest plate, indicating with her chin farther into the courtyard. "Go!" she ordered, turning from him before he could answer.
Assess. Triage. Move!
She caught sight of the unarmored soldier again lying next to a burning crate, a piece of large shrapnel sticking out of her thigh. Sola scrambled over to her and saw the shoulder and chest of her shirt were covered in blood.
Yanking her shirt down at the collar, Sola saw a large hole in the woman's shoulder. A puddle of blood was forming around her. Grabbing the hem of her dress, she tore the lace with a loud rip, until she had a scrap of it in her hands. She stuffed it hard into the wound on the woman's shoulder. Somewhere in the back of Sola's mind, she thought, They probably do all of this differently now than when I learned.
The woman screamed.
Sola took the woman's face in her hands and directed her gaze. She can't be older than my daughter, she thought, her chest constricting. She's just a girl. She leaned in close. "You have a chunk of metal in your leg," Sola said calmly. "I have to deal with that. What's your name?"
The girl let out a sob, and then said in a practiced voice, "Nasiri Demsin, Private."
"Nasiri." Sola released her face and began to tear at her dress again. "I need you to put pressure on your shoulder, do you think you can do that?"
She nodded, raising her opposite hand. Sola directed it to the wound she had just packed and pressed it down. "As hard as you can," Sola said, turning her attention to Nasiri's leg. The large, sharp piece of shrapnel was embedded deep in Nasiri's thigh. Sola took a hold of it and gently tried to lift, seeing the pool of blood underneath the private. Nasiri screamed again, with it ending a broken sob.
She's losing too much blood, Sola noted, feeling the soaked fabric of her pants. With the strip of her lace dress in her hand, she slipped her hand under Nasiri's thigh and tied it tight around her leg. The tourniquet might cause her to lose her leg, Sola thought, but at least she'll be alive. In the back of her consciousness, she heard the soft whizz of gunshots close by. Keep your attention on the patient.
Sola got up and grabbed Nasiri under the shoulders. Nasiri cried out in pain as her hurt shoulder, the packing already soaked through, moved as Sola began to drag her toward the house.
"Get her in the house!" She heard Uriellien's voice, but couldn't see him with a quick glance around her. The laser shots were closer now, and one whizzed by her, a blur of red in her peripheral vision. She let out a cry of surprise, and immediately berated herself for it.
Crouched and dragging Nasiri with her, she backed toward the dwelling when a stormtrooper grabbed her by the arm and yanked her at a run. She stumbled backward as he ran, trying to catch her footing.
"Let me go!" she cried.
"My lady, you need to get in the house," the stormtrooper yelled, his hand still firmly on her upper arm.
"Get her, too!" Sola pointed to Nasiri, who now lay on the ground groaning at the end of a smear of blood across the sand.
The stormtrooper flung Sola into the dwelling so that she felt like a rag doll being tossed around by a child. She stumbled, but managed not to fall. Whirling around, ready to run out again, she saw the trooper grab Nasiri by her underarms and drag her at a run toward the house. There was no way that Sola would have been able to do it that fast.
The trooper dumped her unceremoniously on the doorstep before turning and running back into the melee. "Wait!" Sola called, stooping down to grab Nasiri by the armpits again. "Help me get her inside!"
The trooper twirled back around and ran toward her at a crouch. As soon as he got to Nasiri, he scooped her up under her legs and back, lifting her from Sola's grasp. The both scrambled into the house, where the trooper gently laid Nasiri on a table before swiveling to leave.
"What's your name, soldier?" Sola's voice surprised her, it sounded like the guerrilla fighter she'd been all those years ago, not the civilized lady she's grown to become.
"Taxix," he replied. Then he was gone.
She fought down annoyance at the terse answer and had to remind herself that he wasn't her soldier. She wasn't even a fighter anymore, she had no authority here except what Uriellien gave her. She turned her attention back to Nasiri.