Chapter Two: A Voice in the Silence
767 Words
Three days passed before the bond returned.
Seris spent those days convincing herself that it had been exhaustion. A concussion from the blast. A trick of the Force brought on by stress and lack of sleep.
She did not tell anyone.
Not her commanding officer.
Not the Resistance healers.
Certainly not the Jedi scholars who would have buried her in questions she could not answer.
Instead, she buried herself in work.
She trained until her muscles shook. She memorized star charts. She volunteered for supply escorts that took her to the farthest reaches of Resistance territory, hoping distance would somehow unravel whatever impossible thread had tied her to Kade Vire.
It didn't.
The second time happened while she was making tea.
The kettle hissed softly in the tiny galley aboard her transport. Steam curled toward the ceiling.
She reached for a mug.
Another hand reached for it at the same instant.
She froze.
The hand wasn't hers.
Long fingers clad in black gloves rested on the opposite side of the cup.
The tiny kitchen dissolved, replaced by another room entirely—a vast observation deck overlooking an endless sea of stars.
Kade stood only a few feet away.
This time, neither looked surprised.
"You look tired," he observed.
Seris snatched her hand away from the mug.
"You interrupted my tea."
"You interrupted my strategy meeting."
She crossed her arms. "Then this is your fault."
"I was about to accuse you of the same thing."
For a moment, silence stretched between them.
The stars outside his viewport drifted lazily by, reflected in the polished floor beneath their feet.
Seris realized something unsettling.
Every time they met, the distance between them seemed smaller.
The first vision had placed them at opposite ends of a chamber.
Now they could have spoken in whispers.
"You've been looking for me," Kade said.
She raised an eyebrow.
"In military reports?"
"In the Force."
She refused to answer.
He didn't press.
Instead, he leaned one shoulder casually against the transparent wall, studying her with open curiosity.
"I imagined you taller."
"I imagined you less annoying."
One corner of his mouth twitched.
"So that's humor."
"It's called surviving your presence."
He laughed—just once, quietly.
The sound caught her completely off guard.
She had expected cruelty.
Arrogance.
Even anger.
Not amusement.
It made him seem dangerously human.
The realization irritated her more than anything else.
Without warning, alarms blared somewhere behind him.
An officer rushed into view, speaking urgently.
Though Seris couldn't hear the words, she saw Kade's expression harden instantly into command.
He glanced back at her.
"Our fleets have found each other."
She felt her stomach sink.
"So they have."
For the first time since their connection began, the reality of it settled heavily between them.
They weren't strangers exchanging impossible conversations.
They were enemies.
By the time the next sunrise reached the systems between them, pilots on both sides would be trying to kill one another.
Kade straightened.
"If we meet in battle—"
"I'll shoot first."
"I expected no less."
"And you?"
A pause.
"I'll probably try to capture you."
She blinked.
"Capture me?"
"It seems wasteful to eliminate the only person in the galaxy who can appear in my kitchen uninvited."
Her eyes narrowed.
"That almost sounded like a compliment."
"It wasn't."
"Liar."
The Force around them shimmered.
For the briefest instant, Seris felt something she was certain belonged to him.
Not hatred.
Not ambition.
Loneliness.
It vanished before she could understand it.
His posture stiffened, as though he'd sensed her glimpse into his emotions.
"You felt that."
"So did you."
Neither spoke.
The bond had revealed more than words ever could.
Finally, Kade broke the silence.
"Until next time, Seris."
She gave him a defiant smile.
"If there is a next time."
"There will be."
The stars fractured like shattered glass.
The observation deck disappeared.
Seris found herself back aboard the transport, one hand still gripping the warm teacup.
Across the rim of the mug, the steam curled upward in delicate spirals.
She stared into it for a long moment.
Then, despite every instinct warning against it, she whispered to the empty room—
"You're insufferable."
Somewhere, impossibly far away, Kade looked up from a tactical display and smiled as if he had heard her. He didn't know why the Force had chosen to bind them, or whether it was a gift or a curse.
He only knew one thing with absolute certainty.
He no longer looked forward to winning the war as much as he looked forward to the next time the silence between them broke.
- Writer
