Star Wars: The Last Qymaili | ✔

37 | In Another Time

Song: "Watto's Deal and Kids At Play" from The Phantom Menace OST

Ronderu shivered beneath the blankets in the wee hours of the morning. She sat up, let her respirator work, and stared at her bionic hands. The black metal, exposed now, looked brutal and unfeeling next to her golden flesh. She wiped sweat from her forehead and stood.

A small voice called from the entrance to the hall. "Ama?"

She walked over, bent down, and addressed the girl who should have been her daughter. "I'm not your ama, Rón."

"Scared," she said, coming to Ronderu and putting her arms around her neck. Her voice was tiny and her words not articulate, as a two-year-old's would be.

The gesture broke through her façade as she lifted Rón off the ground. "What's wrong?"

"Appa," she said.

"What about Appa?" Ronderu asked quietly, rocking the child back and forth.

Rón set her brilliant gold eyes to the ceiling. "He's gone."

"I know," Ronderu whispered, looking at the night outside. "He's trying to help you."

"Bi sanaarararar...."

"Bi sanaarai," she said slowly, nuzzling the little girl's round nose with her own. "You remember? But you're so little!"

Rón paused again. "I know," she said at last with a giggle.

"You know what time it is, youngling?"

"Night." She furrowed a thin, dark brow. "Ama's asleep."

"Yes, Ama's asleep with your little brother or sister," Ronderu replied, taking her to the kitchen.

The memory of her childhood sunk deep into her bones. Shia deserves these children. I don't.

But she wished Rón had been hers anyway.

The girl placed a soft kiss on her namesake's nose. "You're sad."

"I'm okay," she said. "You just remind me of something I want."

Rón frowned. "What?"

She took a jug out of the cabinet and poured some juice into a pot to make some tea. "I once dreamed of having a big family."

"Lots?"

A chuckle. "Yes, many babies."

"There were kids," Rón said.

"Kids here?" she asked, and the toddler nodded solemnly. "Well, what happened to them?'

"They died."

Rón said it so matter-of-factly that it took Ronderu a moment to register her response. "How many were there?"

Rón shrugged, then sat on the floor and picked her claws. "Ten. Five."

Ronderu lost hold of the stirring spoon. "Fifteen?"

Rón nodded. "More. No one saw."

Qymaen watched almost all his offspring die. That's why he went crazy. That's why he joined the Banking Clan. He couldn't bear to lose anyone else.

First me, then his wives, then his children. Even the unborn ones.

"Are you sad?" Ronderu asked the little girl, noticing for the first time how thin she was.

"Yeah," Rón said. "I want Appa."

"Did he ever play?"

"Yeah."