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Summary
It’s been months now. Why is she acting like Luthen’s the first person in the Galaxy who’s ever died? Sometimes a phantom Vel sits beside her in the radio room, holding a fictional cup of tea with the worn-out care that clung to her like sweat on Yavin. Vel doesn’t say You know why. Every loss is different. Every one’s the same. Kleya hears it anyway.
Or, the escape from Coruscant takes a physical toll on Kleya, and her rebellion is forced into a different shape. But even away from the Alliance, she has friends everywhere.