**Chapter 415 – Shattered Glass**
The observation lounge on the upper decks of the *Finalizer* offered a breathtaking view of the starfield streaking past as the ship cruised through hyperspace. Soft blue lighting cast long shadows across the room. Nox leaned against the transparisteel viewport, arms folded, watching Stella curled up in one of the oversized chairs. The young woman—human, fragile in ways the others weren't—had her knees drawn to her chest, fingers twisting the hem of her tunic until the fabric threatened to tear.
Nox had already spoken with Ahsoka earlier. Now this. The emotional weight pressed on him like gravity from a collapsing star. Ashara's face flashed in his mind, the quiet grief they shared over their lost daughter. Every time one of these girls broke down, it reopened that wound. But he stayed. Because Dagon would have stayed. Because someone had to.
"Stella," he said gently, "you don't have to hold it in anymore."
She looked up, eyes already glistening. Unlike Ahsoka's fiery determination or the others' more confident fronts, Stella had always been the quiet one. The shy one. The human girl who felt everything ten times deeper because she lacked the natural resilience of Togrutas or the hardened edges some of the others had developed.
"I felt closer to him than any of them," she whispered, voice cracking. "I know that sounds terrible. I know Kayla and Flare and Ahsoka have their own bonds, but… Dagon saw *me*. The real me. The scared little girl who couldn't even look strangers in the eye without wanting to disappear."
Tears slipped down her cheeks. She didn't bother wiping them away.
"He helped me with my shyness. Do you know what that feels like? To have your voice die in your throat every time you need to speak? To feel invisible and grateful for it at the same time? On our first mission together, I froze when we were negotiating with those smugglers. I was supposed to provide cover support and I just… stood there. Heart hammering so loud I thought the whole galaxy could hear it."
Stella's breathing grew ragged as the memories poured out.
"Dagon didn't yell. He didn't get frustrated like the instructors at the academy would have. He just stepped in front of me, calm as still water, and later that night he sat with me for hours. He didn't force me to talk. He shared stories instead—silly ones from his early days, embarrassing failures that made me laugh until my sides hurt. Then he asked me one question: 'What do you want them to see when they look at you, Stella?'"
She hugged her knees tighter, shoulders shaking.
"I told him I wanted to be brave. Not loud like Ahsoka. Not fierce. Just… brave enough to be seen. He started small. Little challenges. Making me order our meals on planetside stops. Making me give mission briefings to the squad. Every time I stumbled, he was there with that gentle smile and a hand on my shoulder. 'Again,' he'd say. 'You've got this.' No pressure. Just belief."
Nox listened without interrupting, but inside his chest something twisted. He carried his own ghosts—failures as a mentor, as a partner, as a would-be father. Helping these girls felt like walking through a minefield of his own unresolved pain. Every tear they shed reminded him of the tiny life Ashara had carried, the future that had been stolen before it began. Yet here he was, trying to stitch together broken hearts while his own remained frayed.
Stella continued, voice rising with raw emotion.
"I loved him for that. Not just the romance that came later. The safety. The way he made my world feel bigger than my anxiety. The other girls… they're stronger. They bounce back. I feel everything. Every battle, every loss, every close call sticks to me like tar. When we lost the squadron on that retreat, I couldn't sleep for weeks. Nightmares every night. Dagon would wake up and pull me close, whispering that I was safe, that he wouldn't let the dark take me. He chased my demons the same way he chased everyone else's."
Her voice broke completely.
"Why does he always have to be the strong one? I want to be strong for *him*. I tried once—on Ord Mantell. He was spiraling after a brutal campaign. The darkness was rising in him again, that cold Sith hunger. I stepped in front of him, told him he didn't have to carry it alone. I thought I could pull him back like he always pulled me back. Instead I nearly got us both killed when an ambush hit. He threw himself between me and the blaster fire. Again. Always protecting *me*."
The dam shattered. Stella buried her face in her arms and sobbed—deep, wrenching cries that echoed in the lounge. Nox crossed the room and knelt beside her chair, one hand resting lightly on her back. He let her cry. Sometimes words only made it worse.
Minutes passed. Her shoulders heaved. When the worst of it subsided, she lifted red, swollen eyes to him.
"I feel guilty," she whispered. "Guilty for needing him so much. Guilty for feeling closer to him than the others. Guilty for being this… this fragile human who can't even handle her own emotions without falling apart. What if I'm just a burden? What if he deserves someone stronger?"
Nox's expression softened with understanding and his own heavy sorrow.
"Stella, listen to me. You're not a burden. Your sensitivity isn't weakness—it's what makes you able to connect so deeply. Dagon didn't fall for a warrior who didn't need him. He fell for *you*. The girl who feels everything. The one who looks at him and sees the man beneath the war, beneath the power."
He paused, swallowing his own rising grief.
"I understand more than you know. Ashara and I… we lost our unborn daughter. Every time I sit with one of you, every tear I witness, it drags me back to that loss. The what-ifs. The empty future. But I keep doing it because Dagon needs me to. Because all of you need someone who can hold space for this pain without trying to fix it instantly."
Stella reached out and gripped his hand tightly, fresh tears flowing.
"I just want to be enough for him," she choked out. "I want to walk into a room and not feel like I'm taking up too much space with my fears. I want to stand beside him without needing rescue. But I do need him. Force help me, I do."
Nox squeezed her hand back.
"You were never meant to be like the others. Your shyness, your depth of feeling—that's your strength. Dagon saw it from the beginning. He didn't try to change you. He gave you tools to grow at your own pace. That's love, Stella. Real love. Not the dramatic, sweeping kind. The quiet, patient kind that stays."
The words hit deep. Stella cried harder, but this time there was a note of release in it—catharsis mixed with the pain. She cried for the scared girl she used to be. For the battles that still haunted her dreams. For the man who had become her anchor. For the fear that she might lose him to the darkness they all danced with.
Nox stayed with her through all of it. His own eyes grew misty as he thought of Ashara waiting back on the ship, of the family they might have had, of the heavy responsibility of guiding these young women who carried so much love and trauma intertwined.
When Stella finally quieted, sniffling and wiping her face with her sleeve, Nox spoke the message he had delivered once already that day.
"Dagon wants you. He's in the bed quarters at Finalizer headquarters right now. He's transferring command over there tonight. Don't be late."
Stella's eyes widened. A fragile, hopeful smile broke through the tears. She stood on shaky legs, smoothed her tunic with trembling hands, and nodded.
Without another word, she turned and ran—boots echoing down the corridor as she sprinted toward the hangar bay, heart pounding with a mixture of fear, love, and desperate need.
Nox remained kneeling for a long moment after she left, staring at the starfield. The emotional baggage of these conversations weighed heavier with each one. Ahsoka's fire. Stella's quiet ocean of feeling. How many more girls carried similar wounds? How long could he keep holding this space before his own grief demanded its due?
He exhaled slowly and rose to his feet.
"Force give me strength," he muttered. "For all of them. For Dagon. For the family we're all trying to build out of broken pieces."