Radio Detective

The teaching of gifts

Quil didn't remember a great deal about her family. Memories flickered through her dreams like hazy, thin-winged things, out of reach the moment she awoke. It was more, perhaps, an awareness of touch, the pressure of a hand holding her own, fingers stroking her hair, arms pulling her towards the warmth of another's embrace.

Then there were the stories she told herself, daydreams she crafted over the years on Jakku until they were faultless and could be called to mind in a matter of seconds, a whole history of herself that had not a single crack.

It had been a time since she had pulled forth such memories, but sitting beside Kirin in the dry dirt she did, recalling what it had felt like to hold her parents fingertips, to feel her cheek rest against the chest of another- all unseen, faces that were slowly being replaced in her memory and dreams by those that were, without their even knowing, becoming her new family.

Hinla, ring covered fingers cool as they rested across Quil's shoulders, her council sure and wise.

Handen, eager to share stories of his exploits and craft new ones beside her.

Kirin, something new. A sibling, a shape she had never explored but found fitted alongside her edges as if it had always been there, just waiting to be noticed.

'Barely anyone saw,' she offered consolingly, head resting on his shoulder as they both looked to the cloudy horizon. Sunset was coming fast and the sky was softening, beginning to glow orange and pink. Kirin, sniffing, shook his head. 'I only saw because you hit Pen in the face when you started choking, but really, Kir, I'm pretty sure I was the only one.'

'I thought you said blue milk was good?' he moaned in embarrassment, although she was not wrong in thinking there was relief in his tone alongside it.

'I said it was an experience,' Quil corrected, snuggling a little closer and sighing when he held her. 'And you experienced it, Kirry boy.'

'I thought gifts were meant to be nice.'

'Stars, no! Gifts are meant to teach you'-

'Is this one of Handen's?' he interrupted, the two of them having become well versed in the Master's penchant for teaching his students bad lessons through "experience."

'No, this one is mine,' she said proudly. 'Gifts are meant to teach you that power is powerful, the galaxy is operated out of a tiny box run by grimdarks and I will always surprise you. Always.'

'Grimdarks?'

'You know,' she gestured. 'Grimdarks.'

'I don't know grimdarks.'

'I'll find you a grimdark, Kirin, and you'll say "stars, Quil, of course I know grimdarks, you're so smart and pretty and I want to tell you all my secrets."'

'I highly doubt that,' he snorted, watching as the sun began to dip behind the horizon. The world out here was flat, but having ground beneath his feet, solid and organic, it was a feeling he was only just beginning to get used to. With the Unity Front life revolved around the various battle stations, almost all of them soaring thousands of miles above any particular planet, and when they had been on ground it had been brief, skirmishes they would wash off as soon as they got back to their ship.

Those who got back.

'Is it Pen?' she asked, looking up at him and waiting. Kirin wasn't wholly surprised Quil had guessed, there were few things she didn't seem to pick up on, but he appreciated the fact she didn't press him. As minutes passed, she returned her gaze to the vibrant sky, the silence comfortable as they watched the world around them change. It wasn't the first time. He imagined it would be far from the last.

'I need to get away. Go on a mission and...' Swallowing, Kirin tried to work out what it was that he was trying to say. What he thought could possibly help him get over his feelings for Commander Vairlight when, in truth, he didn't want to.

'You think that'll help?' she asked, her kindness met by disbelief. 'Kirin, there's nothing wrong in how you feel. You and Pen'-

'We're friends! He's important to me, Quil. I love him.'

'I know you do.'

'Not like that- I mean, I think I... I don't want to lose him.'

'Who said you would?' She straightened and turned him to face her, brow a heavy cloud. Her face was still a little sweaty from their run and her clothes were dirt-marred after the fall that had led them to where they now sat, but her eyes were wide and determined. 'Whatever happens, Pen would never let you go.'

'You don't know that.' He reached out and looped a finger around some of the hair that had fallen from her braids.

'I do,' she insisted, shrieking and jerking backwards with a cry of pain when a voice said, 'That's the angriest marriage vow I've ever heard.'

Pen looked at the chaos he had caused in casual disbelief, eyes widening slightly as he caught sight of the chunk of hair hanging from Kirin's fingers and the way Quil was clasping the side of her head furiously. 'Congratulations?'

'Pen!' Kirin tried to stand but his legs had become entangled with Quil's and he rocked backwards, hitting the ground hard. Laughing, Pen plopped himself between their flailing bodies and unloaded the stack of containers from his arms, setting one down before each of them.

'You right there, Quil?' he snorted, pulling open his container and digging in to the steaming mixture of grains and spiced beans. 'Didn't mean to- Kirin.' He froze, fork dropping and food quickly shoved away. In an instant he was crouched before Kirin whose own food was the only real barrier between them, all humour gone from his face. 'What's the matter?'

'N...othing?' Looking down, he wished there was somewhere he could put the container he held but Pen was taking up all of his vision and the ground seemed to fade away. So he held it. Aloft. Awkwardly filling the space between their chests.

'What happened?' Pen demanded, worried eyes turning to Quil who was carefully reaching out a hand and slipping Kirin's dinner from his hands. She met Pen's gaze with a bewildered shrug before turning to Pen's pet, a little cat that went everywhere with him who he had called Fredd. Fredd chirruped happily to be receiving some attention now his fathers were reunited.

Fredd had always had a good sense of reality, unlike some war heroes he spent time with.

Kirin, relieved at being able to use his hands but at a loss as to Pen's meaning, blinked.

'Have you been crying?' Pen breathed, reaching out and brushing the dip beneath one of Kirin's eyes, his fingertip coarse and light. 'Are you alright? Tell me what to do, Kirin.'

'Oh,' Kirin exhaled, sitting back a little with understanding he was not entirely grateful for. 'I'm fine. It's fine.'

'If you've been crying then it's very far from fine,' Pen murmured gruffly. 'Let me help.'

'There's nothing'-

'I want to help, Kirin,' Pen breathed quickly, words moving fast as if they brought him agony. He looked so lost, the fine Commander adrift as he hovered before him, hands balling and food forgotten, the shifting sunset casting the two of them into a beautiful light that neither would ever see, too focused on each other.

'I don't...' Closing his eyes, Kirin leant forward and rested his forehead against Pen's, fully aware of how sweaty and grimy and intimate it was and not caring. Not if it meant he didn't have to see the worry in Vairlight's eyes. Not if it meant he could touch him and drown out all the fears that his wanting elicited. 'Alright. Just let me... work out how.'

Pen nodded, the fingers of his right hand brushing against Kirin's neck as they reluctantly separated, as if he would have held him, pull him closer, a thought that would haunt Kirin for a good while.

Quil had her hands out before Fredd and was clicking her fingers rapidly, mimicking the patterns he was making with his black and white paws and yelping when, missing a beat, she was hit in the stomach with a swift whack of his tail. She was doing just fine.