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roman-writing · 3 years

Text

no great revelation (4/8)

Fandom(s): The Haunting of Bly Manor / Star Wars

Pairing: Dani Clayton/Jamie Taylor

Rating: T

Wordcount: 7,057

Summary: Jamie just wants to enjoy a drink after a hard day’s work on the Telosian Restoration Project. The last thing she needs is to get herself caught up in a mysterious woman with a lightsabre at the local bar.

Aurthor’s notes: Please don’t expect anything from this story. I’m just doodling in between writing ch11 and ch12 of ‘bring home a haunting.’

read it below or read it here on AO3

IV:

—

“I owe you a favour?” Rebecca said, and her voice sounded amused. “Is that how we’re remembering it?”

“Yup. After that fiasco you put me through in that club on Nar Shaddaa.”

The sound of an incredulous huff of laughter came through the cracked speakers of the transceiver in a staticky burst. “What is it this time?”

“Nothing special,” said Jamie. “In fact, it’s even a little boring.”

“You? Boring?”

“I like boring.”

“Pull the other one.”

“More boring than last time, then.”

“Last time you had me move three hundred freed Twi’lek slaves from Hutt space and back to their home planets.”

“And they’ve been singing your praises ever since. I know that for a fact, because one family sent me a holo-card which showed that party you went to where they made you godmother of their newborn child.”

“Oh! That reminds me,” Rebecca said, sounding suddenly excited. “Do you want to see the latest pictures of the kid? He’s four and adorable.”

“That had better be a rhetorical question,” Jamie drawled.

“So, that’s a no?”

“Shut up and send me the pictures to my personal transceiver when I see you.”

Rebecca’s laugh was infectious. Always had been. A smile pulled at the corner of Jamie’s mouth in spite of herself. The Jawas had crowded off to the other end of the tiny room, talking amongst themselves while Jamie used their transceiver. On the other hand Dani drifted closer, hovering just out of range of the transceiver’s camera, which — along with the microphone and speakers — seemed to be the only thing about it that actually functioned properly.

“It’s been too long,” Rebecca was saying. “I’ve missed talking to you.”

“So, you’ll do me the favour?”

“You know I hate moving people,” Rebecca sighed. “Pressurising the cargo hold is so expensive.”

“It’s for a good cause.”

“Always is with you.”

"It's not like that."

"Sure it isn't." Rebecca said, then groaned. "Why can't you ever ask me to run something normal? Like food? Or weapons?"

"I asked you to run those emergency rations to Taris that one time."

"The planet was being blockaded by the Empire!"

"And you snuck through like a ghost," Jamie said. "I've never seen anything like it in all my years."

"Flatterer."

"Fuckin' right I am. Is it working?"

A sigh down the other line. "All right. How many people is it this time?"

Jamie opened her mouth to answer, but before she could speak Dani came into frame and sat beside Jamie with a wave towards the camera.

"Hi," she said with as much false cheer as she could muster. "Just me. Dani Clayton. Nice to meet you."

Silence on the other end. Jamie really wished this piece of crap transceiver had a working screen of its own so she could gauge Rebecca's reaction. As it was: the silence didn't seem like a good start.

“I see,” Rebecca said slowly. “Jamie, you always did have a soft spot for a pretty face.”

Heat flushed all the way up to Jamie’s hairline. “That’s not -!” she said, then turned to Dani and insisted, “It’s not.”

Dani did not answer. Her own cheeks were pink and she was studiously avoiding Jamie’s gaze, watching the broken monitor instead where Rebecca’s face should have been displayed.

Rebecca — damn her — was the one who spoke next. "And where are you from, Dani?"

"Alderaan," Dani said at the same time Jamie hissed, "Don't answer that."

Dani shot Jamie a puzzled look and lowered her voice, “I thought you two were friends.”

“We are, but -”

“No whispering,” said Rebecca through the crackling speakers in a sing-song voice. “If you’re talking about me, at least let me hear the juicy gossip.”

Rather than continue down that vein, Jamie corrected course. “We need to get to Tython. We’re on a transport through the Hydian Way to Coruscant, but we’ve got some undesirables on our tail. Think you can help?”

Rebecca gave a thoughtful hum. “You know I’m not a Core World girl. Not my speciality.”

“I wouldn’t ask you if I wasn’t desperate.”

“Next time,” Rebecca said in a dry tone, “just call me for drinks and a laugh.”

“First round’s on me,” Jamie promised with a grin.

The sound of tapping down the line and a series of beeps as Rebecca did something with her ship’s computer. “I’m picking up your signal from hyperspace just past Bandomeer. I won’t be able to meet up with your transport until you come out of hyperspace for a stop over at Corsin tomorrow afternoon. Think you can survive that long?”

Leaning back, Jamie exhaled a long relieved breath, her shoulders slumping. “It’ll have to do. Thanks, Becs. You’re a lifesaver.”

“I know.”

And just like that, the call ended. No fanfare. No goodbyes. That’s how it always was with her — touch and go. Probably why the two of them got along so well, Jamie thought. Not many people could go without exchanging a single word for four years and then pick up where they’d left off as if no time had passed at all.

Jamie pushed the transceiver away. Dani was watching her with a curious tilt of her head so that a lock of her hair was curled along the column of her neck in a way that made Jamie want to reach out and card her fingers through her hair.

“She seems nice,” Dani said.

“It’s complicated.”

Understanding lit up in Dani’s mismatched eyes. “Ah.”

“Not like that,” Jamie said quickly. “We never - I just meant that she’s complicated. For a smuggler like Rebecca, trust is its own currency. And now I owe her a very big favour.”

Dani nodded but didn’t comment further. She had turned her attention back to the huddle of Jawas, listening to them quibble and murmur together. “As much as I like them,” she said, “I don’t think we can hide here for a full day without imposing.”

That and Jamie could not imagine trying to sleep in a pile with a bunch of Jawas. She made a face at the very thought. It was cramped with two people in one of these rooms. Let alone eleven. Even if the other nine were less than a meter in height and smelled of damp womprat.

“Please tell me the alternative doesn’t involve the garbage chute,” Dani said.

The alternative only partially involved the garbage chute. And even then, they only had to use it once to ferry their way up to the mid decks when their transport dropped out of hyperspace and docked at Corsin. Jamie kept checking over her shoulder for sign of the Jedi and the Troopers as she and Dani snuck off the transport with a crowd of others. She did not relax even as they stepped free of the transport and into the hangar bays of Corsin.

The arched transparisteel ceiling was a void of star-speckled ink viewing out into space, and far below the planet was a marble of blue oceans and green islands, white tufts of cloud drifting across its surface.

“It looks beautiful,” said Dani, pausing to wistfully admire the planet below.

“It looks unaffordable,” Jamie replied, not sparing it a glance and instead standing up on her toes, craning her neck to get a better look around the hangar.

“Reminds me of Alderaan.”

It was said almost softly enough that Jamie couldn’t hear it. Jamie stopped her search and turned back to Dani, who was still staring longingly out the windows. Hesitating for a second, Jamie curled her fingers around Dani’s hand. Startled, Dani blinked at her.

Jamie offered what she hoped was a reassuring smile. “C’mon,” she said, and gave Dani’s hand a tug.

Dani did not pull her hand away as Jamie pulled her along further into the hangar in search of their ticket out of this mess. She linked their fingers together and held on tight, her hand cold; Dani was always cold. Jamie needed to think about buying her a set of thermals.

Pushing through the crowd, they made their way from various bay to various bay. Other passengers who knew their destinations went straight to the cruiser that would ferry them down to the planet below. Most of them wore enough Ottegan silk to last Jamie a year if she sold it on the black market, no questions asked. This was not a planet for people like them, and a few security droids around the place had started to take notice of that fact. Jamie was constructing an elaborate lie in her head about how they were janitorial staff, when she finally saw her.

Rebecca was standing before a side bay with her hand resting easily on the holster of her blaster pistol. She looked just as Jamie remembered. All in smart and durable beige and black, the cut of her clothes fashionable in a rakish sort of way but unafraid of hard labour. Her dark hair was longer and was bound in a long plait over one shoulder. And her dark skin was slightly darker, too — she must have been visiting a sunny planet lately. Letting go of Dani’s hand and striding forward with a broad smile, Jamie caught her in a fierce warm hug.

“God, but it’s good to see you again,” Jamie said.

Only one of Rebecca’s hands came up to rest against Jamie’s back to return the hug. When she pulled back slightly her smile had an oddly sad slant, and she murmured, “I really am sorry for this, Jamie.”

Jamie blinked, her face falling. “What -?”

Before she could move, Rebecca’s other hand came up and pressed something to Jamie’s flank. A flash of something like fire rippled through Jamie’s body, and then she slumped forwards into Rebecca’s arms, the world spinning and going dark.

When Jamie came to, she had a splitting headache and her side felt like it had been kicked by a very large very angry animal. She winced and slowly sat up with a groan. Blinking muzzily, she took inventory of her surroundings. Just a small room sheathed in dark metal panels from floor to ceiling, complete with the only door blocked by yellow plasma beam bars, and a Czerka logo stamped into one of the panels on the hallway outside.

And worst of all: no Dani in sight.

Great. Alone in the brig of a Czerka ship. And given her shit luck, Jamie had an inkling of exactly whose ship this belonged to as well.

“Fuck,” she said, lingering emphatically over every aspect of the word.

She had been placed along a bench in the cell, and now she dragged her sorry carcass into the corner so that she could prop her legs atop the bench and lean her head back against the wall. When the world finally stopped trying to tilt with every sluggish beat of her heart, Jamie patted herself down.

No mining laser, of course. That would’ve been the first thing they stripped off of her. No credit chits in her pocket. No multitools that she always kept on her person in case she ever needed to disassemble some machinery at work. The dogtags were still around her neck at least. At least if she died, whoever found her would be able to identify her body and return it to Tython or wherever the fuck nobodies like her in The Order went after death. Small miracles.

Nothing for it, then. She staggered upright and went to use the loo. When she’d finished, she returned to her place on the bench and thought about how fucked she was.

She’d been in plenty of bad scrapes in her time, but this was taking the coveted position of ‘Worst Hole Ever Dug by Jamie Taylor — May the Force Be With Her.’

A door opened in the near distance, then another, followed by quick footsteps. Jamie frowned at the hallway, waiting for some Czerka pillock to come take her away and shove her out an airlock. Instead Rebecca came into swift view.

"Here," she said, sliding Jamie's handheld mining laser along the floor through the bars, then began trying to pry a section of the wall away from the hallway in order to reveal a nest of wires leading to the control panel. "I've disabled the alarms and cameras for the brig, but we don't have much time. There's a cruiser docked in bay three. It has a hyperdrive and enough rations to get you to wherever you need to go. The Czerka fleet won't fire upon it so long as you're quick and you don't let them figure out it's you."

Jamie did not move. Teeth clenched, she crossed her arms and glowered at the opposite wall.

"Jamie -"

"Nope," Jamie said, jaw taut, refusing to even look in her direction.

"Listen to me," Rebecca gave up on hacking the control panel. She tried to move into Jamie's line of sight but Jamie kept turning her head aside. "There is more to this than what it appears. I know about the infiltration of House Thul. I know about the -"

"I don't care about what you know,” Jamie cut her off. "If you think I'll listen to another word out of your mouth, then you've got another thing coming."

"I'm trying to make sure I can get you out of here alive, you thick-headed Rim-Rat!" Rebecca snapped.

“If it weren’t for you, I wouldn’t be in this mess in the first place!”

With a bitter laugh, Rebecca leaned against the frame of the cell, careful to not touch the plasma beam bars. “That’s rich, knowing your history. I’ve never met a person who gets into more trouble than you.”

Jamie put on her best sneer and asked, "What's Quint got over you this time, then? Eh?"

Rebecca shook her head and looked away with an incredulous noise, hands on her hips. "It's not like that."

"Like hell it's not," Jamie growled. "All that time you spent outwitting the Empire, and now this? He is Imperial through and through."

"I know exactly what Peter is."

"Yeah. A piece of shit, who'd sell his mother if it means saving his own sorry hide."

“You have no idea what you’re talking about,” Rebecca said and her voice was low. She darted her eyes down the hall, as if watching for any potential eavesdroppers. “And you are in far deeper shit than you could possibly understand. That woman you’re with -”

Sitting up straighter, Jamie swung her legs over the side of the bench and onto the ground, suddenly alert. “Where is she?”

Rebecca fixed her with a serious expression. Rather than answer, she said, “She’s dangerous.”

“She’s scared,” Jamie corrected.

“Which is quite possibly the worst thing for her to be.”

Rising to her feet, Jamie glowered through the plasma bars. Her voice was pure venom. “If you had just helped me get her to Tython, then I could’ve gotten her proper training.”

“The Order won’t take her.”

Jamie had to stop herself from striking out at the bars, even knowing they would give her burns all across her skin. “You know fuck all about The Order!” she snarled, pointing at Rebecca’s infuriatingly calm face through the bars.

In the distance a door opened with a hiss of pressurized air. Both Jamie and Rebecca tensed and looked over in that direction. Or, well, Jamie tried to look but the view from the cell was pretty limited, all things considered. She'd had better views from the brigs of far less fancy ships than this.

Footsteps approached. Turning back, Rebecca lowered her voice and said in a rush, "Jamie, listen to me for once in your life. You are my friend, and I am going to get you out of this, but you have to do what I say."

Jamie shook her head. "No. Not without her."

Swearing fluently under her breath, Rebecca slammed the section of wall back into place to hide her attempted tampering. She’d only just managed to get everything in place and turn around, when no less than four Czerka guards in green and gold livery marched into sight. All of them were holding blaster rifles and were armoured to boot. They weren’t walking military-grade arsenals like the Republic Troopers from the transport, but they still weren’t people Jamie wanted to fuck with unless she had some serious firepower at her back. Hastily Jamie hid her mining laser in one of her bulky pockets, praying they wouldn’t pat her down.

“You shouldn’t be down here,” one of them said to Rebecca.

Rebecca pointed to a corner of the ceiling. “I noticed the cameras were down and came to investigate in case the prisoner managed to escape.”

He narrowed his eyes at her, then stomped past her to key in a code into the control panel leading to Jamie’s cell. “Next time, alert one of us instead.”

The plasma bars fizzed out of existence. The leader of this particular pillock squad made a sharp motion to the others, and two of them marched forward, grabbed Jamie by the shoulders, and hauled her upright.

“Easy does it, lads,” Jamie grumbled. “Could’ve just asked.”

One of them clipped her on the back of the head with his gauntleted fist. “Quiet.”

After they yanked her hands behind her back and clipped a set of handcuffs around her wrists, they marched her out of the cell. Jamie gave Rebecca the dirtiest glare she possibly could, and Rebecca just rolled her eyes in response, trailing after the group. Two sets of hands remained firm around Jamie’s upper arms as they walked, guiding her further into the depths of the ship.

When they all crowded into an elevator together, doors sliding shut behind them, a cheerful cantina tune began to play.

“So,” Jamie ventured. “Don’t suppose anyone’s got a light?”

No answer. From the corner of her vision, Jamie could just make out Rebecca biting back an ill-timed smile in the back of the elevator. Or maybe she was trying to stop herself from screaming in frustration. Difficult to tell from this angle.

“Just trying to be neighbourly,” Jamie grumbled.

“Shut up,” said one of the guards whose fingers dug into her arm.

A light dinged, the music stopped, and the elevator doors opened with a hiss. Jamie couldn’t see beyond the massive frame of the two guards standing in front of her, but soon the four of them were flanking her as they all moved forward, leading her onto the bridge of what appeared to be Peter Quint’s flagship.

Or at least, that was what Jamie assumed. And given that Peter Quint was standing at the head of the bridge, she reckoned she wasn’t too far off the mark.

His hands were clasped behind his back and he faced away, looking out through the transparisteel windows at the sleek fore of the ship pointing into space, surrounded by a veritable fleet of other vessels that looked like they were on direct loan from the Empire. The long hems of Peter’s dark coat brushed his ankles, but he did not turn around or indeed take any notice of the new arrivals. In fact, he seemed engaged in deep conversation with someone whom Jamie could not see. The light glinted off one of his hands, the metal dark of his cybernetic limb dark. If Jamie hadn’t been looking for it, she might have mistaken it for a glove of some sort.

The bridge split into three segments, the centre being command ending in a . Two of the guards veered off to the left, while another marched straight forward to address Peter. The last kept a firm hold of Jamie’s arm and hauled her off to the right, circling around while Rebecca trailed behind them, silent. As they went, Jamie got a better view of exactly who Peter was talking to, and she started.

“Dani -”

The guard yanked at Jamie’s arm to keep her on course, and the three of them stopped at the head of the right wing, separated from command by a pit sunk into the floor, where engineers and pilots and God only knows who else toiled away pressing buttons or something. Jamie had no idea what was required to run a ship this size. Armed men, apparently, for that constituted the majority of people on the bridge. Guards at the doors. Guards at the helm. Guards along the walls.

Dani’s wrists weren’t bound with handcuffs, but she was kneeling on the ground as if she’d fallen there, and her cheek bore a bruise that was already starting to go purple. Her shoulders were hunched around her ears, and she was leaning away from Peter. When Jamie had spoken, Dani’s eyes flicked in her direction then widened. She opened her mouth as if to answer, but snapped it shut once more, wringing her hands together in her lap. She was not wearing the lightsabre anywhere on her person.

Peter had tilted his head to listen to whatever report the guard was delivering to him. He nodded and the guard went away with a sharp salute. And then he turned to look at Jamie.

“Jamie,” he said, “It’s been a minute.”

“Yeah, not nearly enough,” Jamie muttered.

The guard cuffed her again. Not enough to bruise, but enough to sting. On the other side of her, Jamie saw Rebecca’s hand tighten into a fist.

If Peter seemed at all troubled by this exchange, he did not show it. “You’ve led us on a bit of a merry chase, you know. Could’ve saved me the trouble and just let me have her back on Telos IV.”

Nodding towards Dani, Jamie said, "Since when do you care about dead Jedi? Or bounties for that matter? You’re rolling in credits."

Peter let out a bark of laughter. "About - what?" He looked down at Dani, saw the stricken expression on her face, and then he smiled that sickly sweet smile of his. "Oh, I see."

Dani did not move. She did not speak.

When Peter continued speaking, it was not to Jamie. “No, it’s not credits I’m after. Or Jedi. But you know that. Don’t you, darling?” He crouched down before Dani, who shrank back from him. His voice was soft when he said, "You know what I want. Just give it back, love, and you can be on your way. I'll even give you your own personal escort back to Alderaan with enough credits to drown yourself in. How does that sound?"

Dani blinked up at him in surprise. Then her eyes darted in Jamie's direction.

Peter followed her gaze, and Jamie wanted to burn the smirk off his smug fucking face. "Ah, no," he said, turning back to Dani. "I'm afraid that one stays with me."

Dani licked at her lips and straightened her shoulders. "You let her go, or I won’t give it to you."

From this angle Jamie couldn't see the expression on Peter's face. His broad shoulders held a barely restrained tension, as though on the cusp of explosive movement. And when he spoke, even the gentle softness of his voice was a lie, "Very well. You have my word."

Don't, Jamie wanted to shout in warning. Don't do it.

Slowly, Dani reached into her cloak and unpicked a section of the lining, revealing a makeshift hidden pocket. She rummaged around then pulled something out and set it on the floor. Jamie strained to get a better look. Her captor kneed her roughly in the back for her trouble, and she would've gone face first into the ground if not for the hand in her hair yanking her back so that she remained upright.

It didn't stop her from catching a glimpse of what was being exchanged, however. Shards of metal, black gold. All in pieces, like a disassembled puzzle.

Peter was silent. He stared down at the pieces Dani had placed at his feet. Then in a smooth motion he stood, pushing himself upright to loom over her.

"Do you think this is funny?" he asked in that too quiet, too dangerous tone.

Eyes wide, Dani shook her head. "No, I -"

Peter kicked the pieces away with a vicious swipe of his foot, and Dani flinched back with a startled cry. He darted forward and seized a handful of her cloak.

"Where is it?" he snarled.

"That's - That's all I have! The box fell apart after I touched it, I swear!"

Peter's hand tightened around the fabric, pulling up so that Dani was held slightly off the ground by the scruff of her neck, her feet scrambling for purchase on the metal flooring. "Box?" he repeated. "I'm not asking about a fucking toy box! Where is the holocron?"

"The -? The what?"

With a vicious curse, he threw her back onto the ground. Dani caught herself on her hands with a hiss of pain, and she flinched back when Peter began to circle her.

"Don't play dumb," he said. "You know what I'm after."

"I don't -"

"You think I'm fucking blind? You think a piece of shit nobody from a backwater in Alderaan can kill a Jedi? You think you just woke up one day with powers?" He stalked around her, his expression a mask of fury. "You are nothing. You are nobody. You're not Force sensitive. You're a puppet. Just a piece of meat to house something greater, and you don't even fucking know it!"

The deck fell silent but for the beep of electronics, the rustle of fabric as pilots kept the ship on course. Jamie darted a look towards Rebecca, but her face was carefully blank and guarded, her thumb hooked through the belt of her blaster pistol in a way that Jamie knew meant she was actually nervous about something. None of which boded well.

“I was so close,” Peter was saying, and he didn’t even seem to be talking to Dani anymore. His words were a ranting mutter, wrathful and desperate. The metal of his robotic arm clicked in a menacing fashion every time he clenched his hand into a rhythmic fist. “This was it. This was my last run. The last deed I’d ever have to do for those evil cocksuckers on Dromund Kaas. Plant a holocron and be done with it. Be free of the Empire forever. Until you -”

His voice trailed off and his steps slowed to a halt. In the muddy light of the bridge, he was a faceless silhouette. He clenched his metal fist so tightly that it creaked and sparked. Dani shivered on the ground at his feet, her shoulders hunched, as though she were trying to make herself small enough to disappear.

“You went snooping. You took something that didn’t belong to you. And I need it back. No matter the price.” In a swift movement, Peter crouched down on his haunches again. Dani flinched back, but Peter merely watched her for a long and uncomfortable moment before he continued, “So, what’s it going to be?”

From where she stood, Jamie could just make out the defiant set of Dani’s jaw.

Sighing, Peter reached out and tucked a stray curl of hair behind Dani’s ear, while Dani sat, frozen in place. “Contrary to popular belief, I don’t like hurting people,” he said. “Always the worst way of going about it. And, you know, it just doesn’t work as well as you’d think. So, tell me. What’s your price? Hmm? What do I have to do to get you to talk?”

When again Dani did not answer, Peter withdrew his hand. “Normally I’m a patient man, but as we live and breathe, there’s a Dark Lord of the Sith coming our way. If you don’t deal with me, then you’ll be dealing with him. And I assure you: you want to be dealing with me instead.”

Licking her lips, Dani said, “I already told you everything I know.”

“Well, that is disappointing.”

Jamie tried to shift her feet slightly so she could get a better angle on the rest of the bridge, but the guard behind her kicked her in the back of the knee. When she went down with a grunt of pain, her knee slamming into the ground, the guard then yanked her back up by the handcuffs behind her with enough force she felt her arm sockets complain.

“Get up,” the guard growled, and Jamie shot him a look that should have dropped him on the spot.

The brief commotion drew Peter and Dani’s attention back in this direction. Peter pushed himself upright and turned, while Dani’s panicked gaze moved from him to Jamie and back again.

“Or maybe I’m going about this the wrong way,” Peter murmured. He walked slowly across the bridge towards Jamie.

“Even if I did know something, you and I both know I’d rather cut out my own tongue than tell you,” Jamie spat. The guard tightened his hold on her handcuffs, but she pinned him in place with a fierce glare and said, “Touch me again, and I’ll end you, mate.”

Peter held up his hand before the guard could react. When Jamie faced him once more, Peter was close enough that she could see the thin scar on his cheek. Unfortunately, she hadn’t been the one to give it to him. She didn’t know where in his sordid past he’d gotten it.

The corner of his mouth twitched in a smile that never touched his eyes. “Oh, Jamie. I never thought you actually knew something. You’re much too simple to get sensible answers before leaping to a lost cause.”

In spite of herself, Jamie’s gaze darted to Dani who was watching their interaction with naked dread.

Peter followed her gaze and grinned. “Aye,” he said. “That’s the one.”

And without further ado, he drew his blaster pistol, pointed it at Jamie, and shot her. The smell of burnt flesh was an afterthought to the blinding pain that sent her vision white. Jamie staggered, keeling slowly over the charred wound low in her abdomen just above her hip. Something cold was pressed against her face, and it was with a blurred realisation that Jamie found herself lying on the floor. She blinked through the muzzy borders of her vision, trying to move and only managing to gurgle weakly.

Right. Bad idea, that.

At least blaster fire didn’t allow for my bleeding. Mass internal burn trauma, yes, but she wasn’t about to bleed out on the floor. Every breath was a sharp lance through Jamie’s stomach. She pushed herself into a crouch on all fours, registering the commotion around her as if experiencing it through water.

“ - Don’t touch her! Don’t you dare -!”

“Peter, killing her gets you nothing. You should -”

“Don’t fucking tell me what to do, Becs! I won’t be taking orders ever again! Not from you, and especially not from the Empire!”

“Then get what you need, but Jamie doesn’t have it. And neither, it seems, does she.”

Three sets of boots surrounded her. The guard beside her, and Rebecca standing between her and Peter. As Jamie tilted her head up, Peter started to stalk away. His footsteps were loud against the metal grating of the floor, and he dropped heavily into the captain’s chair at the head of the bridge. He had holstered his pistol and now he reached down to pick up something that had been propped up against the base of the chair.

He pressed a button, and the lightsabre leapt to life. The blue light scattered across his face. “The holocron isn’t on Alderaan,” Peter said. “We did a very thorough check. Which means you -” he pointed the lightsabre at Dani, who was now standing at the centre of the bridge facing him, “- must have left it somewhere between there and Telos IV.”

Dani’s expression was dark, her hands were trembling fists at her side.

With a sigh, Peter sheathed the lightsabre and set it on the arm of his chair. He leaned back in his seat, crossing his legs so that his ankle was propped on his opposite knee. Addressing the guard beside Jamie, he said, “Rebecca’s right Jamie doesn’t know anything of use. Take her to the lower decks and throw her out the airlock.”

The guard did not even say an affirmative. He simply hauled Jamie to her feet, and began dragging her back towards the exit despite Rebecca’s protests.

“Leave her alone.”

There was something wrong with Dani’s voice. An odd burr, a hard quality that did not suit her. She still had her gaze fixed upon Peter, but something in the way she spoke made every person in the room tense. The guard shoving Jamie along froze, looking back towards Peter for further instruction.

There was an internal pressure building in Jamie’s chest, something like desperation, like the acrid aftertaste of gunmetal and blasterfire. All around them, the wall panels groaned. A few crumpled beneath the strain. Rupture of pipe and control panels, and with a screech of metal on metal all the lights on the bridge went out. Steam from the burst pipes billowed along the floor. Every guard in the room — even Jamie’s — raised their weapon towards Dani, glancing nervously around. Moments later, the emergency lighting flickered to life, illuminating the deck with a faint glow.

Quint’s face was cast from below. Unlike the others, he had not moved, remaining slouched on his captain’s chair like a low-slung throne. He smiled at Dani. “Was that supposed to impress anyone?”

Dani reached out her hand and the sabre that had been resting on the arm of Peter’s chair was in Dani’s grasp before Jamie could even blink, as though it had leapt into place there. With a press of her thumb, the blade extended, slicing a blue line through the gloom. The air was cold, so cold that Jamie could see her own breath misting in a cloud, and the icy fear that had twisted in her chest was a thing now slicked with darkness. A treachery of black ice beneath every step.

She watched, handcuffed and helpless, as Dani gripped the sabre so tightly that her hands shook. One of Dani’s eyes gleamed gold and bright, unblinking, fixed upon Peter, and from the hilt a crimson light peeled down the length of the blade, a slow and burning bleed of kyber, until the sabre was completely engulfed in a light as red as a dying star.

“Open fire,” Peter said, voice trembling, face pale, staring at her with wide eyes. He jabbed his finger in Dani’s direction and repeated in a shout to the room at large, “Open fucking fire!”

Over a dozen guardsmen sighted down their blaster rifles and began shooting. The lightsabre was a living thing in Dani’s hands. It moved in ways Jamie had only ever seen in training manuals, in the hands of Knights and Masters. No motion wasted. Every angle of the blade made with surety of purpose.

Four guards were dead by their own reflected blaster fire before they could even manage to pull the trigger a second time. Dani reached out, and four others had their rifles ripped from their hands, the weapons warping into useless hunks of metal and cast aside. One of the guards stationed at the exit raced forward, pulling out a long knife that had been strapped to his thigh. Dani did not even pause in deflecting incoming blaster fire; she swept the lightsabre behind her, passing the hilt between her hands and bringing it back around. Half of the guard’s severed body went careening into the control pit, where the pilots and engineers cowered with hands over their heads. The other half skidded to a halt on the floor, dead weight.

Jamie’s mouth hung open. Blaster fire continued to fly through the air in streaks of red. The guard who had been assigned to her was torn between trying to shoot Dani and trying to keep a hand on his charge. Then Rebecca stepped forward, pressed the muzzle of her pistol to the side of his head, and pulled the trigger. He crumpled into a heap on the ground, and Jamie swore loudly.

Crouching down, Rebecca grabbed something off the guard’s body and used it to unlock Jamie’s handcuffs. “Don’t just stand there!” Rebecca yelled over the din, and she circled an arm around Jamie’s waist to help her along. “Let’s go!”

The two of them lurched towards the exit. A deflected shot struck the ground beside them, and they ducked down. Smoke and steam filled the air. The smell of blaster fire and burnt flesh was thick enough to make Jamie gag. Cursing under her breath all the while, Rebecca pulled Jamie to the exit, where a guardsman was sprawled, dead on the floor with a hole the size of a fist burnt through his chest. Rebecca had to let go of Jamie for a second to haul the guard closer so she could use his hand to unlock the biosecurity lock on the exit. The panel flashed green, and Rebecca dropped the guard in favour of Jamie again.

The elevator was eleven floors down and slowly started to ascend.

“Come on,” Rebecca was muttering under her breath to herself. “Come on, come on, come on -”

Behind them, the blaster fire dwindled to a halt. There was the sound of something heavy and wet falling to the ground. With a thrill of sickening fear gripping her stomach, Jamie turned and felt Rebecca do the same.

The walls were scarred and pitted. A shower of sparks fell from the ceiling where a wall panel had been shot loose. Through the haze of smoke, Jamie could make out the shape of bodies scattered across the floor, and at the very centre of it all Dani stood.

Her back was to them. She faced the captain’s chair, the lightsabre burning red through the acrid smoke. For a moment it seemed Peter was standing to his feet, but then Jamie realised he was being lifted up. He grasped at his throat with both hands, heels lashing out at the air, making wordless strangled noises, gasping. Then his head snapped to one side with a sickening crack, and he went still. Dani looked up at him and with an almost lazy gesture, tossed him aside. His body slammed into a far wall and fell to the ground in a heap.

Jamie’s pulse skyrocketed when Dani turned around and looked at them. And when Dani started to stalk in their direction, adrenaline coursed through Jamie; every nerve in her body was screaming for her to flee, to hide in some small dark place until this danger had passed over the land like the shadow of night.

Dani’s cold gaze fell upon Rebecca, and she raised the lightsabre once more.

“Woah!” Maybe it was the adrenaline or maybe it was the pain doing funny things to her head, but Jamie leapt in front of Rebecca, hands trembling and lifted as though in surrender. “No, no! I mean, yeah, I’m also mad at her, but I don’t want her to die!”

“Thanks,” muttered Rebecca behind her.

“Shut up,” Jamie muttered back.

Dani had gone still, but the weapon was still a gleaming line of bloody crimson held overhead.

“She can get us a cruiser with a hyperdrive,” Jamie said. “We can get out of here. Just - put down the lightsabre? Please?”

The elevator made a bright ding behind them and the doors slid open. Dani leveled the lightsabre and for a brief terrifying moment Jamie thought she was going to cut it straight through her from shoulder to hip. The blade stopped, pointing at Rebecca just over Jamie’s shoulder, and she made a sharp little gesture with the tip that Jamie could hear burning up the air right next to her ear.

"Move," Dani ordered softly, and her voice sounded odd. As though there was more than one person speaking in unison.

Rebecca moved, backing slowly into the elevator. Lowering her hands, Jamie followed. Dani watched them with the fixedness of a predator, the air around her cold enough that Jamie shivered when Dani stepped into the small enclosed space with them. The lightsabre still seared in Dani’s fist, pointed towards the ground. Rebecca hit a button for hangar bay three, and the doors of the elevator shut with a hiss.

The elevator started its descent. If this had been any other time, Jamie might have been tempted to reach out, gently grasp Dani’s wrist and urge her to put the lightsabre away. But this was not any other time, and there was nothing of the woman Jamie had grown to know over the last week in Dani’s face now. She stared blankly at the shut elevator doors, never blinking.

They arrived at hangar bay three and Rebecca immediately rushed over to the console that controlled access to the ship docked just beyond the hangar doors. She hooked something into the base of the console, making the screen flicker before giving her full admin privileges. As she started keying in the right commands, Jamie walked up beside her.

Dani drifted behind her, blade in hand, completely silent. It felt like being followed by a mute ghost.

Whatever Rebecca did worked. The hangar doors unlatched, turned, then slowly opened to reveal the sleek polished interior of a luxury cruiser yacht. Jamie stepped into the yacht’s entryway and looked around at the gleaming walls. Finally, Dani hit the button to sheathe the lightsabre and brushed past Jamie without a glance in her direction, vanishing around a corner of the cruiser. The brief contact made Jamie shiver.

“Right. Okay,” said Jamie, hand pressing on the wound at her abdomen, still jittery from that feeling of being prey in the sights of something with very big teeth. She turned to Rebecca. “Fuck you, I guess?”

From behind the console, Rebecca smiled weakly at her. “I suppose I deserve that. Does this mean I owe you a favour?”

“The biggest favour,” Jamie said gravely. “Like - seriously huge.”

“Until next time, then. Oh, and Jamie?” Rebecca said, and Jamie paused to glance back at her. “Don’t die.”

Swallowing thickly, Jamie nodded, then Rebecca hit the button to shut the doors.

Easier said than done.

#thobm #the haunting of bly manor #star wars #roman writes #no great revelation #damie #dani clayton/jamie

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starfaring-princelotor · 5 years

Text

Lotor's Gift Chapter 4 - Decisions Decisions

Summary:

Lotor has a lot to think about now that they have escaped from the Empire’s attack. And he has a decidedly bigger problem to deal with - you.

Lotor walked into his room, checking to make sure his wine bottles were still secure in their cases. Axca had saved their lives with her expert piloting skills, but he would have been secretly disappointed with the loss of his collection. Some of these bottles could never be replaced; the worlds they came from, unfortunately, did not exist any longer. He poured a generous glass of the beautiful amber colored nectar and took a long drink. He felt the potent liquid burn a trail down his throat. Perfect.

He walked to the windows that surrounded his chambers and watched the stars fly by, looking like comets as they hurtled through hyper speed towards the neutral zone. He leaned his forehead against the wall, closed his eyes, and took a deep breath. It wasn’t supposed to be like this.

He was the Crown Prince, not some flunky general. He felt no familial connection with Zarkon, although at least he still called Lotor his son in public circles. The Witch was nothing to him. Well, nothing more than a threat to his life and puppet-master over his father. The words you had spoken to him about a possible assassination seemed to be accurate. It appeared he was walking a very fine line. The time to make his move was rapidly approaching but he was nowhere near ready yet. He wondered what drove them to decide he had to be eliminated. He had been so careful, watching every step, calculating everything down to the most miniscule detail. What had caused them to suddenly want him out of the way permanently? All questions that needed answers and he would find them, eventually. Opening his eyes, he turned and leaned his back against the wall, enjoying the cold that seeped through the ship for a brief moment.

He swirled the glistening liquid in his glass as he walked back to his desk. Now, he had to plan what to do with you. He sat down and picked up his data pad to turn on the link to the monitor in the sick bay, making sure you were still strapped in the bed and sleeping. He looked at your covered form, only cinched down where the restraints held your waist safely. You were sleeping quietly, mouth slightly opened, and he noticed the swelling had completely receded from your face.

He felt a slight pang of desire as his eyes lingered on your curves. This line of thinking wouldn’t do. He had other things to concentrate on than to imagine the bliss of placing kisses down your neck to your collarbone which was practically begging for his attention. Not to mention how pleasurable it would feel, plunging his hands into your hair as you ran your hands down his back to grip his ass and perhaps use a bit of pressure by your nails to mark him so slightly? He had to turn the visual off before he was unable to control himself. Something about you was driving him wild, and he had no idea what it was. He had never experienced complications like this before when acquiring a spy.

Initially you were just meant to be his ears in an outpost, listening for just such news as you had delivered. He found it was easy to say a few pretty words, give a useless trinket here and there, and deliver a well-placed kiss or two in order to establish his own network of willing participants to follow him. You did your job well. But he couldn’t return you to the outpost. The Empire knew who you were now. You were marked as a loyalist to him. You were as good as tortured and dead if he sent you home.

He had to admit he was surprised at the action of the mineral stone in the necklace. It had reacted as he put it on you. “No,” he thought. “It had reacted before I put it on you. It was reacting to my inner desire.”

“I have no desire in that matter,” he said to no one, trying to convince himself otherwise. “She is nothing but a soldier in my army.” He took another drink from his glass.

“Are you sure about that?” he argued with himself. “The stones are incapable of projecting false feeling.”

He knew about the properties, which is why he chose that particular stone for you. It was a failsafe way to determine your true intentions. If you had actual desire for him he would be able to use that to his advantage, to place you where he needed, and you would not question him. He never assumed you would undertake such a perilous journey to get to him. Apparently, he underestimated the little mouse he took you for.

He had to admit you had guts. Hiding on a Galra ship? With no weapons? You were depending on your stealth and you nearly made it. If you had been captured early in the flight you would have been in worse shape when he found you than you were. It was not common practice to take stowaways to the Witch. She must have believed you had information about him due to the proximity of Ulippa and the most recent activity with Throk. She could make a connection out of the flimsiest of details.

Acxa was beside herself when Lotor announced the covert operation to collect you. A coded message had been delivered to him through a trader knowing he was looking for scaultrite. Once he broke the code, he discovered they were privy of a conversation between two privates repeating the rumor of a human girl being caught catching a ride from Ulippa. It was just a coincidence they happened to be in the vicinity of you when the message arrived, and he figured it out.

He was caught in a serious dilemma, he realized. The attraction he felt for you was immediate. He’d never had that reaction before to anyone. Perhaps he could use you as a more personal guard. You had proven your courage, that was evident. He had remembered you taking down the Galra soldier even while shackled and injured, until Zethrid was able to dispatch him while Ezor attempted in her own infuriating way to secure you and get away to safety. Perhaps he could convince them to catch you up on how to best be of service, overcoming your apparent complete lack of Galra genetics, to be a fighter. To be lethal, if necessary.

“Are you sure that’s all you want from her?” his thoughts were roaming back down to the med bay. “Just another female to be a guard?”

“That’s enough,” he snarled out loud, grabbing the wine bottle and topping off his glass. “I’m not going to have an argument with myself about this.” He drank deeply, as if to indicate the end of his mental sparring.

“Not just a fighter, or another body to warm your bed. She could be someone closer than that. Special. A lover in all senses of the word,” he exhaled loudly.

“Mmmm, perhaps.” He refilled his glass, still irritated that he was arguing with himself, even though he’d pretty much told himself he was done with the conversation. “That decision will have to be made later,” he said, contemplating the possibilities. He had not been able to trust anyone enough before to even consider letting his guard down. It was too deadly and he very much preferred being alive. But this was you. You. A little blip on the radar, but nothing more. Not a princess, nor a Galra leader, or even a member of a government friendly to his cause.

You were only supposed to be convenient. An unlikely ally that would go unnoticed by any of the Galra top brass who crossed your path. Like Acxa had stated, “…not even that striking.” Lotor frowned, his eyes narrowing and his brows knitting together. He sat his glass on the desk, grabbed his data pad, and reactivated the link to the monitors.

Ah, there you are. Still sleeping, but now you had a slight smile on your face. You looked completely at peace. And completely delectable. You were moving slightly, dreaming perhaps. Then he heard you moan, saw your hands grasp a pillow next to you, wrap your arms around it, pulling it tightly against you.

Yes, definitely dreaming. He felt heat rush down to his core and he couldn’t stop the groan that escaped his lips. His hands gripped the arms of his chair as he fought against the urge to rush down and show you exactly how you made him feel. His heart rate ticked up and he could feel his armor getting unbearably tight in his groin. This was madness! He lifted his hand, intent on giving himself some relief, but then he paused. No. This was not going to happen.

Instead he reached for his sweet wine, tipped the glass back, and emptied it. He clicked off the image and closed his eyes, trying to bring himself back under control. His head felt that wonderful slight buzzing from the potent drink, and he was able to begin to relax. He still felt a desperate desire to go pay you a visit, only to see how you were healing of course. However, in his very uncomfortable and undisciplined state he didn’t think that was such a good idea.

He pressed the button for the com to the bridge. “Acxa,” he said.

“Yes, Sir?” she answered. “What do you need?”

“Have you plotted the course?” he asked.

“Yes, we’re only 13 hours away at present speed. Ezor and Narti only found minimal damage to a portion of the hull under the docking bay. It shouldn’t cause any trouble and we can get it repaired once we arrive in a friendlier territory,” she reported.

“Good,” he said. “I’m very proud of the way you handled the ship today. We owe you our lives.”

“Sir?” she said, quizzically. Silence filled the space for a few seconds before she asked pointedly, “Are you drunk?”

“Why would you assume that?” he asked, feigning shock. “I’m merely complimenting you. I’m as proud as I could be at your ac…”

“Yep, you’re drunk,” Acxa said. “Stop while you’re ahead, sir.”

“Very well,” he sighed. “I think I need to rest a bit. There are only a few things I will allow to be disturbed for. One is if Zethrid comes up with any corroborating information about those rumors. Two is if my little patient wakes up and tries to leave the medical bay. And third is if we run into any more trouble from my father or the Witch.”

“Understood,” she said. “Rest well, sir, and I’ll keep an eye on everything here. You’ve had a trying day.”

“Yes, well, at least we all survived to see the end of it,” he said, stifling a yawn. “Please look after yourself, dear. You have also had a difficult day. We can’t have both of us deteriorated to worthlessness.”

“I will leave the bridge soon. Zethrid is due to relieve me shortly,” she said. “Acxa out.”

Lotor walked across his room and sat on the bed. It seemed to call him. He reached down, pulled off his boots, before standing again to remove his armor. Quickly and efficiently the discarded armor lay about the room, and he was soon standing in his body suit. It would do for now as he fell back onto his bed and collapsed into the pillows. He would figure out exactly what to do in a few hours, when he and Acxa could discuss the recent developments with you as well as a possible life on the run. Then they could strategize. But for now, he really needed to sleep.

#lotor x reader #submission

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joeybelle · 6 years

Text

Starlight - Chapter 23

Relationship: Cassian Andor / Original Female Character

Rating: Mature

Warnings: Strong language, Background character death, Blood, Violence

Tags: Pre-Rogue One, Romance, Feels, Hurt-Comfort, Canon-compliant Violence, Blood, Background character death

The blaster pistol hung heavily on her belt. The whirring sound of the ship’s engine as it exited hyperspace was almost deafening, but Cora was thankful for it somewhat muffled the ringing in her ears. Her hand clutched the support railing at the back of the ship, trying to keep her balance.

She had forgotten how incredibly confining transport ships could be, with more people crammed inside than it would be comfortable. Some silent, some nervously chatting, they were all waiting for the incoming battle. She never thought that she’d be sent into action so soon after the assessment, but this is what she’d signed up for and this wasn't the time to get cold feet. Not when people were dying.

The orders came as she was changing some bandages in the med bay. They told her one of their outposts had been attacked by imperial forces and were currently under siege, so they called for backup. Some of them were gravely wounded, and that’s where she came in. She dropped everything, changed into her combat uniform and joined the others in the crowded transport ship. She was the only medic.

She knew that by the time they reached the planet’s atmosphere she was already deathly pale, but fortunately her hands weren’t shaking and she didn’t feel like she was going to faint anytime soon. Which was great, because she didn’t really want to embarrass herself in front of all of those soldiers. She really wished it was just her and Cassian, like on the other missions she had been part of, so she didn’t have to fear being an embarrassment. She’d even take K2’s snarky comments any day.

Her comm buzzed and she heard Cassian’s voice, breaking her train of thought. “Are you alright?” he asked, sounding weary.

“Yes,” she replied, her voice cracking a little. “Yes, I’m ok.” She repeated, this time making an effort to control her voice and sound up to the task at hand.

“Don’t worry too much. I’ve just landed and with the other two incoming ships we have enough troops to win this quick and clean.”

She sighed, relieved. He was going to be there after all. It was a small relief, but comforting nonetheless. “Did you manage to contact the ones inside?” she asked, not wanting to waste too much time with her own feelings. She had a job to do after all.

“Yeah, they’ve got a few wounded. Their medic’s down. Come find me once you land and I’ll put you in direct contact with them.”

“Understood.”

“Good luck, Doctor.”

“Good luck to you too, Captain.”

The connection ended with a faint buzz. She looked at the soldiers around her. They were readying their weapons, tension almost tangible in the air. She held tight onto the railing and closed her eyes once the ship entered the dense atmosphere, wishing she were still at home, changing bandages and not this close to a battlefield.

The sudden rush of air that hit her in the face once the main hatch was opened felt wet and warm, making it hard to breathe. It reminded her of the first time the landed on Yavin 4, and how hard she adjusted to it. This time it felt worse, so Cora gritted her teeth and got off the ship.

She found Cassian near the command post. How they managed to install one so quickly, along with a portable med bay, Cora didn’t know, but she was impressed. With their huge, well equipped battleships, the Empire usually didn’t bother.

“What’s the plan, Captain?” she asked, joining Cassian in one of the tents. He looked just as tired as he sounded, and Cora made an effort to stop herself from hugging him in front of everyone.

“Doctor.” He greeted her with a curt nod, but then turned around to another captain that Cora only vaguely recognized. “They have maybe three stormtrooper units and a heavy weapons squad,” he started explaining, and although Cora wasn't sure if this was addressed to her too, she stuck around listening. “Their air support has already been neutralized by our X-wings, but that still leaves a lot of troops between us and the outpost. We have Garris pushing on the right side, but I want you,” he said, gesturing towards the captain, “to take your team and try to blow up the laser cannon on the left. The shield is weakened, but still holding and we can’t do anything with it shooting at the troops.” The captain nodded and hurriedly left the tent.

“What do I do?” Cora asked, once they were alone again. She could hear the noise coming from the battlefield, but since the tent was a little bit sheltered, she couldn't see it. She tried very hard not to imagine what horrors were happening just a few meters ahead.

“You stay back for now,” he said, fiddling with a comm unit. “You’ll have to wait here until we manage to secure the area and get the injured out.”

“Is there no way to get me inside before that?”

He looked up at her and frowned. “They’re surrounded. Unless you know of a way to teleport you inside, there’s nothing I can do.” The tone he used was really derisive and Cora scoffed. She realized that her questions may have sounded stupid, and he was definitely tired and stressed, but there was no need to treat her with contempt. “And even then, I still wouldn’t let you go in as long as they’re still shooting at the base.”

“So they’re still shooting at the people trapped inside?”

“Yes.”

“Do you think we could get to them in time?”

“We’ll do our best.”

It didn’t sound very convincing, but she knew Cassian was doing everything he could to get them out safely. She just hated that she had to wait around doing nothing while people could be dying. She really wished she could do more. Even joining the soldiers on the battlefield sounded better than just doing nothing. Unfortunately, she knew that would only get her injured before she could actually be of any use.

She sighed. “Is there a way for me to contact them, at least?” If she couldn’t physically be there, at least she wanted to be kept in the loop. Maybe she could somewhat remotely manage the situation.

“Yeah, that’s what I’m working on,” he said, and continued working on the comm.

It didn’t take long for him to make the connection and put Cora in contact with the men on the other side of the war zone. Unfortunately, the kid that picked up didn’t seem to understand much of what she was telling him and in his nervousness wasn’t being very helpful.

“So the man shot in the leg,” she started asking for for the third time, before he interrupted her once again.

“He’s bleeding a lot,” he almost cried in the comm, and although her heart was breaking for him, she really needed to know if his femoral artery had been severed. By the way he described everyone, the man with the wounded leg was the one that required immediate medical attention.

Unfortunately, no matter how hard she tried explaining to him how to tell arterial blood apart from venous one, he was way too agitated to follow her directions. She covered her eyes with her hand and almost wailed in despair. The feeling of powerlessness was overwhelming. She needed to do something.

“Is there no one else around you that can talk to me?” she eventually said, seeing that the kid was losing all remaining composure, and she didn’t have time for that.

“Hello,” said a woman’s voice, after a few precious moments of silence. “Captain Harper here. How can I help you Doc?”

“The man shot in the leg, is he still alive? Is he still conscious?”

“Yes,” she replied, her voice calm and collected. “He’s still conscious, but not looking too good, He’s losing a lot of blood.”

“Do you know how to make a tourniquet to stop the bleeding?”

“Yes, Ma’am. Already on it.”

Cora breathed a sigh of relief. Maybe they would survive until they were rescued, but who knew when that would happen. Cassian had left immediately after handing her the comm, and now he was nowhere to be seen. She didn’t need him to babysit her, but she would have liked to be kept in the loop. Like this, just waiting for things to happen while people bled to death, she was useless.

“What’s the situation in there?” Cora asked the captain, hoping she would get a glimpse of what was happening behind the outpost’s walls.

“Umm… Pretty bad, I’d say. But we can see you guys advancing. I hope you can get here in time,” she said with a sigh, and Cora felt her heart sink.

“We’ll make sure to be there in time,” Cora said, full of determination, hoping the woman couldn’t tell that she was faking it. “Do you know the place well, Captain?”

“No, not really, I’ve only been stationed here a couple of weeks.”

“Is there anyone there that knows the outpost better?”

“Yes, and I might be able to put you though,” she said, and Cora thanked her.

“Lieutenant Berav speaking. Ma’am, how can I help you?” a man’s voice replied after more moments of silence.

“Is there any way for me to get inside the outpost, before our troops arrive there?” She didn’t want to waste any more time, knowing that any wasted second might cost some of the injured their lives. “A different entrance, maybe?” she asked, feeling like it was a stupid question the moment the words left her mouth.

“There may be,” he replied to Cora’s surprise. “There’s a hidden trench on the left side of the battlefield. The entrance is right next to that tall, red boulder. It could offer you enough shelter to get to the gates, but you have to be fast. Plus, you’ll be fully exposed before entering it, and upon exit, so I don’t think it’s a viable option unless you can somehow distract them.”

Cora walked around the tent, closing in to the area where she could hear blasters shooting. A single look at the battlefield made her skin crawl and she had to force herself to keep looking, so she could identify the area described to her.

“The one close to the cannon?” she asked, scanning the area.

“Yeah, that one,” the man said, and for a brief moment his voice was covered by the sound of an explosion. Cora almost ran back to the safety of the tents. “The entrance is right next it, you’ll be able to jump into it quickly. But it won’t give you cover for long.”

Cora sighed. “I’ll see what I can do. Please keep everyone alive until I get there.”

“Please tell them to hurry. I don’t know how much longer we can hold the lines.” His words felt like a dagger stabbing though her heart. He sounded exhausted and almost hopeless when he broke the connection, and Cora felt like it was imperative to try and do something.

She had to find Cassian. He’d know what to do. He wouldn’t abandon his comrades, surrounded by enemies, wounded and exhausted. If he knew about the trench maybe he’d send her and a small team to take care of the soldiers trapped inside, until the rest of the troops could defeat the Imperial forces. But the problem was, where to find him? The clock was ticking.

Asking around the makeshift base, she eventually found him near the front-line, talking on the comm.

“What are you doing here?” he hissed, when he saw her approaching. “I told you to wait right where I left you.”

“I talked to the people inside,” she said, ignoring his harsh tone. She expected him to be annoyed, after all her was under a lot of pressure. “They have at least five wounded, one of which is bleeding profusely. I’m not sure we’ll make it in time for me to be able to save their lives.”

“We’re doing whatever we can,” he said, looking at the battlefield, suddenly looking a lot older than he was. Cora felt really sorry for him. He was carrying the weight of the battle on his shoulders and she was certain he would blame himself for every death. In that moment she really wished she could be more useful to him, carry a bit of this weight herself, but she was just a doctor so the only thing she could do was to try and save lives.

“There’s a hidden trench that crosses the battlefield,” she said, swallowing the lump in her throat as his head snapped back to look at her. “It could give us enough cover to get to them before the fight is over. I could get to them in time,” she said, making an effort to keep her voice steady, not betraying how scared she actually was.

“That’s out of the question.”

“Cassian, just listen.”

“No,” he cut her off, without making any effort to listen to her idea. “I know what you are talking about, and there’s no way of getting there in one piece.”

“But if we created a diversion…”

“Cora, it goes straight through the middle of the battlefield, you’d be killed in minutes. I’m not risking your life by letting you join the fight.”

Any other day she would have agreed with him. After all, she knew she wasn’t ready to fight, and she’d either die or get someone else killed, but today it was a different story. She had left the Empire because she couldn’t stand to watch people die while she did nothing about it. She couldn’t do it now either, even if it meant risking her own life to save others. In the time spent with the Rebellion she had gotten really attached to the fighters, and even though she didn’t personally know the men inside, she felt responsible for them.

“But people are dying, Cassian,” she pleaded with him, hoping that he would soften up, but his reply was even harsher than before.

“This is a war, Doctor,” he said, and she could feel his severe tone cutting like a knife. “People are dying every day. You’ve got to get used to it. Now go back to the tent, and wait there until someone comes for you. It’s an order,” he said, looking her in the eye, his dark, piercing gaze making her soul hurt. “Understood?”

“Yes, Captain,” she replied, her voice cracking a little. “I’ll wait in the back until everyone is too dead for me to make any difference.”

Cora turned around and walked away, not waiting for any other reply from Cassian. She was angry and hurt. She didn’t really understand how he could be so passive in a situation like this. He never struck her as the type of person who would wait and not try every solution possible, no matter how risky, even if that meant putting himself in danger. He was a man of action, she was sure of that. Waiting was killing him, just as much as it was killing her, but she was certain he was trying to shelter her. He didn’t trust her to do it. To be honest, she didn’t really trust herself either, but right now wasn’t the time for doubts. It was time for action.

But he had given her an order, and there was nothing she could do besides going back to the tent and waiting for the battle to end. Disheartened, she sat on a chair and grabbed the comm.

After a few moments of fiddling she was able to access the outposts frequency once again. This time, Captain Harper picked up.

“How are the injured soldiers?” Cora asked, feeling like she was going to get a headache soon.

“Still injured,” the woman replied, a little snappy, before she realized what she had said and softened her tone. “I am sorry, Doctor,” she apologized. “It’s been a long day. They’re not doing good. None of us is. Two more people have been shot. I don’t think we can hold the line much longer.”

“We are doing everything we can to get to you,” Cora assured her, although she wasn’t convinced they were doing enough—that she was doing enough. “We’ll get to you soon.”

“I hope so,” the captain said, but Cora felt there was no more hope in her voice.

A loud explosion broke the connection and made Cora jump to her feet and run to the edge of the safe zone. The cannon that the rebel army still hadn't been able to neutralize, had pierced the wall surrounding the outpost, sheltering them from direct fire. Right now, the Imperial troops could just pour through the opening and kill everyone inside. She had to do something. But before she had time to move away, another explosion shook the ground. Once the smoke and dust cleared a little she saw that the imperial blaster cannon had been taken out. By the X-wings or by the ground troops, she didn’t know, but it seemed to be a little too late for the people inside, since most of their defenses were already down. However, this could provide enough of a distraction for her to reach the injured.

Cora took the comm and accessed their frequency one last time. “Are you guys alright?” she asked a pretty shaken Captain Harper.

“We’ve had better days…” she replied, sounding incredibly tired. “We’ve lost some more men. A couple more are incapacitated, but we’re standing our ground.”

“Can you offer me some cover? I’m coming though the trench,” Cora said, without even thinking about the dangers, or that she was in fact breaking a direct order, or that Cassian would be pissed even if it wasn’t one.

“We’ll try. Good luck, Doctor.” No, she wasn’t thinking about any of those things when she fastened the medipack on her back, pulled out her blaster, and readied a flash grenade.

She took a pair of macrobinoculars off the table and scanned the area. She could see the exact place where she had to enter the trench and the general direction she should be headed to. She could see the Imperials retreating, now that their cannon was no longer functional. Now was her chance, she thought, as she placed the binoculars back on the table and started hurrying towards the battlefield.

Once she reached the edge of the field, she started running, before she had the time to think it through and change her mind. She ran between soldiers, she ran between blaster shots and flames. She wasn’t sure how she’d managed to reach the trench, but she did, in one piece. She only allowed herself a moment to just stop and breathe, because every second she was wasting could mean that someone’s chances to survive dwindled. She crouched, trying to stay as hidden as possible, and hurried through the trench. It felt like it was never ending. She could hear fighting above her head, the strident sound of the blaster shots sending cold shivers down her spine. Every explosion shook her to the core, making her fear that it would be the last thing she’d hear. She was frightened, but she kept going.

Eventually, the trench opened, leaving her exposed once again. She could see some stormtroopers blocking her way to the outpost. The fastest way to get inside, she figured, would be through the hole blasted in the wall by the canon, but even so she would have to get past the troopers first. She squeezed the grenade in her hand. If only she could throw it hard enough to reach them, it would provide enough of a distraction for them to not notice her running around them, she hoped.

But before she had time to panic, someone started shooting at them. She didn’t know if it was coming from inside the outpost—the soldiers trapped in there offering the much needed cover—or someone from behind her that just wanted to take them down, but she didn’t wait to find out. She started running again, heading for the opening in the wall. She ran so close to the troopers, they they could kick her in the face if they noticed her. She took out the pin and dropped the flash grenade at their feet, stopping them from shooting her in the back as she ran past them.

The sound of the grenade detonation was lost in the cacophony of noises on the battlefield. The only thought present in Cora’s head was to get to safety, everything else was a blur. She kept running until she reached the hole in the wall. Strong arms helped her climb though and suddenly she was out of the line of fire.

“It’s good to see you in one piece, Doctor. It was quite a crazy move you pulled out there,” said a woman, that by her voice and accent Cora identified her as Captain Harper.

“I’m glad to be here,” she replied, deciding that it wasn’t quite the time to think about the crazy thing she had done.

However, Cassian coming through the same hole she did, looking angry and disheveled, looking her straight in the eye made the blood freeze in her veins. She knew she’d fucked up, so she looked away, deciding that she’d do her job first, and face the consequences later. “Where are the injured?” she asked Captain Harper.

She was guided through a poorly lit corridor to a large room. Laying around or slumped against the wall there were nine people, with varying degrees of injuries, moaning and breathing heavily. The air felt heavy with the smell of blood and death.

Cora pulled on a pair of sterile gloves and went to work. A couple were unconscious so she hurried to look at them first. One was already dead. The medic, she found out from the insignia on her uniform. She had a pretty ugly wound on her neck, which meant she’d bled out quickly. She had been dead a while, maybe before they’d even landed. There was nothing Cora could do for her, besides covering her with a sheet.

She moved on. The other unconscious man was the one with the injured leg. The wound was ugly, to say the least. There wasn’t much Cora could do about it but to try and find the nicked vein and stop the bleeding. The tourniquet was still in place, and that was the only thing keeping him alive, but by the paleness and coldness of his skin, he’d lost a lot of blood. He also had a wounded shoulder, but that seemed to be less severe. Cora took off her medipack and started working.

“It’s good to see you, Doc,” the man seated next to her said, looking at her with kind eyes. He didn’t look very good. He didn’t look good at all. When she first checked on the injured he vehemently shooed her away, assuring her his wounds were only superficial, but now that she looked at him again she started to doubt that. “Were you able to cross through the trench? I can still hear them fighting outside.”

“Lieutenant Berav?” He nodded weakly and Cora’s looked him over. He was dirty, dust staining his skin and pieces of rock stuck in his beard. His left hand was tucked into his jacket and there was red staining his lips. His breathing was laboured. He didn’t look fine at all. “Would you please remove your jacket for me, Lieutenant?” Cora asked, keeping her voice as steady as possible, while she fixed an IV sleeve on the unconscious man.

“I’m fine, Doctor, don’t you worry about me,” the older man said with a smile.

“You don’t look fine at all,” she said, working as fast as she could on the other man’s leg. Time was ticking and she knew she couldn’t take care of all of them. She had only two hands and it wasn’t enough. “Could you please remove your jacket?”

The man laughed, which then turned into a coughing fit. Cora looked at him with the corner of her eye. There was more blood foaming in the corner of his mouth. He must have had blood in his lungs. She took a break from what she was doing and grabbed the lieutenant’s jacket, pulling it aside to reveal what he was hiding. The sight made her lose all the remaining colour in her face: his whole torso was full of shrapnel.

“The cannon took out the blaster turret I was using. It could have been worse,” he said and smiled, but Cora was sure it couldn’t have been worse. There was no way she could safely take out the shrapnel from the man’s chest in a poorly lit, stone room in the middle of nowhere. She could only hope that it didn’t hit any major artery and he would survive until he could be transported back to base. But even then, she still couldn’t say for sure if he’d survive.

“I’ll put you on an IV right away,” she said, still trying to stabilize the unconscious man. He had lost quite a lot of blood and she wasn’t sure, even with a tourniquet in place, that she could save his life. His leg, almost certainly not. “I have some plasma on hand…”

“Don’t bother, Doctor, I’m already a goner,” he said, with a resigned smile on his face. “Save the meds for someone who has more chances than me. And take care of the kid. Maybe he’ll survive.”

“You’ll both survive,” Cora said, but she could sense the lie in her words, as she hurriedly forced an IV sleeve over his forearm and a thermal blanket around him despite his protests.

She wasn’t sure if any of them would survive. She could still hear the fight going on outside and there was no indication that it would be over anytime soon. From time to time she could hear voices coming from the hallway, or the door, but she didn’t have the time to lift her head up and look. The Imperial troops could be pouring in any second, shooting them all dead. At least that would be quick.

“I’ll make sure you’ll all survive,” she said to herself, trying to mend the nicked vein in the younger man’s leg, his blood slowly seeping into the fabric of her tunic, staining the sleeves above her gloves.

“It’s alright, Doc, you don’t have to save everyone,” Lieutenant Berav muttered, closing his eyes. “The world is already getting colder. And darker,” he said, between shallow breaths. Cora spared only one second to look at him. His looked clammy and his lips had taken a bluish tint. Maybe if she had a little more time… But she knew she didn’t. Even with the plasma pumping into his veins she knew that for him, she had arrived too late.

“Hang in there, Lieutenant,” she said, blinking rapidly to keep the tears at bay.

“You know, I have a boy about his age,” he said, moving his bloody hand a little to point at the unconscious man. “He was a little kid when his mom and I broke up. She took him with her. Last time I’ve heard about them they were living in a small village near Arden. She had two more daughters. Twins.”

“You could visit them when all this is over,” Cora said without lifting her eyes. She had no idea where that place was, but there was no reason she couldn’t try and give him a little hope.

“I will visit them soon.” His voice was becoming weak and raspy, and Cora tried to hurry patching the man’s leg to try and help him too. Although she knew she couldn’t do much, she still hoped she could miraculously keep him alive until they arrived back at base. Unfortunately, there were others needing medical attention too, and she knew she would have to prioritize. “They’re waiting for me on the other side,” he whispered, and she felt her heart break.

Cora didn’t stop—couldn’t stop—working, but she could feel the familiar pang in the back of her throat, when tears were threatening to fall. She tried focusing on what she was doing, because any little mistake could cost someone’s life.

“There was a stream in front of our house,” he spoke after a short pause, his words already slurring. He kept his eyes closed and Cora forced herself to not look at him too long, for she could already feel the tears running down her face. “There was… a beautiful stream…”

He was silent after that. Cora didn’t know exactly when he passed away, nor did she want to. When she had finally managed to stop the hemorrhage in the other soldier’s leg, and stabilize him enough so that she was sure he would survive being transported back to base and then looked at Lieutenant Berav, he was already dead. She pulled up the blanket to cover his face and moved on to the next patient.

The smell of blood and disinfectant was rapidly filling the room. It had stained her sleeves and tunic, seeping slowly though the fabric until it reached her skin. She could feel cold sweat forming on her forehead, and her palms were clammy under the gloves, but she couldn’t stop. She was running on adrenaline only, her world having narrowed to the task ahead of her. She kept stitching and patching and balancing fluids, completely oblivious to what was happening around her.

At some point someone she didn’t recognize told her they were starting to take the injured to the ships and that she was needed outside, where more wounded soldiers awaited her. She did her job, even when her hands started to hurt and her knees bruised from kneeling on the gravel. She could still hear it in her head, the man’s last whisper. ‘There was a stream in front of our house.’ She wondered what she’d be thinking of before she died. Would life flash before her eyes or would she be stuck in a memory from her childhood? Was her mother waiting for her on the other side?

She wiped her still tear stained face with her sleeve, before realizing the only thing she had done was to smear it with blood. She wanted to rip off her uniform and throw it away, to shower until she could get the smell of blood out of her nostrils. To try and wash away the guilt with a bottle of something strong and mind-numbing.

She looked around for Cassian, but he was nowhere to be seen. She felt a pang in her heart at the thought that he could have died in the fire, but she made an effort to push it away. No, he wouldn’t die that easily, he couldn’t die that easily. He’d always survive, and come to her to fix his wounds every time. She pulled off her blood stained gloves and looked at her hands. There was blood on them too, stuck in the creases made by her skin and under her nails. She pulled on a new pair and moved on.

She spent the whole journey back to base with her eyes glued to a monitor, hoping that the soldiers would survive long enough to get home. She felt powerless, watching the beeps and the numbers. She had no idea how many had died, she’d stopped counting, deciding to focus on those who had survived instead, but she couldn't push away the thought that maybe if she had gotten to them faster, and she’d somehow worked harder and if she’d been better, more would have survived. Maybe she could have stabilized the lieutenant enough to get him back to base. The logical part of her brain knew there was no way she could have done that, that she had to choose which one to save, and the younger soldier with the leg hemorrhage was the logical choice, since he had more chances to live.

But she still felt responsible for every death on that battlefield. She still blamed herself for not being able to save everyone, even if that meant somehow cloning herself. The blood was drying on her uniform, making it hard and scratchy. She couldn’t wait to rip it off and take a shower, hoping to get rid of the smell. The everpresent smell of blood.

Back at the base, she followed the gurneys back to the building, but was almost instantly relieved of her duties. She insisted that she would help in the med bay, but Doctor Crane didn’t even want to hear it. She was tired and her hands hurt, but she was still running on adrenaline so she was sure she wouldn’t be able to relax anytime soon, so why not try and be useful, but the doctor dismissed her anyway.

Lost in the sea of people, she felt completely out of place. She felt so drained of energy, like her soul had been sucked out of her body. The only thing she wanted to do was to crawl into a ball and cry herself to sleep. She turned around to head to her room when she saw Cassian striding her way his face contorted into a mask of anger. It had been a very long time since she’d seen him this angry, so she knew she fucked up.

“What have you done?” he barked at her, but Cora could tell he was making an effort to stay composed. He was furious. “I specifically told you to stay behind.”

“My job,” she snapped. “It entails saving lives, not waiting around,” she mumbled and kept walking, with Cassian on her heel. She didn’t have the strength to deal with him yet so she tried getting away.

“You disobeyed a direct order.”

“It was a stupid ass order,” she raised her voice, turning around to look him in the eye. “Every second I spent waiting around lowered their chances of survival and you know it! I had to do something.”

“We were already doing something,” he almost yelled at her, but then lowered his voice, taking a step closer to her. “We were doing something. We were doing our job, and yours was to listen to my order and wait until we cleared the area.”

“My job is to save lives,” she spat in his face. “Every life lost on that battlefield is on me! You purposefully ignored a way of getting inside. Two people died because I didn’t get there in time.”

“Everyone on that battlefield is my responsibility!” he whisper-shouted. “Including you, and including the people that could have died while you pulled a stupid move like that.” Cora’s jaw dropped. “Oh, you didn’t think about that, did you?” His voice had turned threatening as he took a step closer. “You didn’t think about the people that could have died trying to protect you. No? Did you know that the only reason you made it there in one piece is because I followed you and shot everyone that had their weapons pointed at you? Did you even notice how close you were to dying? Did you?”

She hadn’t so she kept her mouth shot and swallowed the lump in her throat. She felt tears starting to form once again.

“Of course you didn’t. You were too busy playing hero.”

“I wasn’t trying to play hero,” she yelled back suddenly finding her voice, but also feeling the first tear sliding down her cheek. “I just… I just wanted to save everyone. You don’t understand…”

“I don’t understand? How do you think I would have felt if I had watched you die today!” he yelled and his voice faltered for a second. “How many people would you have saved if you were killed?” Cora didn’t reply, as tears were already streaming down her face. “You’re a doctor. Your life is more important to the Rebellion than ten soldiers—than a hundred soldiers! Because you can potentially save hundreds. But you can’t save anyone if you’re dead.”

“I know,” she yelled back and wiped the tears away, only to notice the blood on her hands once again. She straightened her back and curled her hands into fists, swallowing a sob. “I just can’t stand around and wait, biting my nails while people die just because you and the Rebellion are afraid to lose me!”

“Well, you’re going to have to,” he said, taking a few steps back. “Actually no, you won’t. No one’s going to let you go back on a battlefield after disobeying a direct order. You’d be too much of a liability,” he said, and the calm, yet biting tone of his voice hurt. “Consider yourself grounded.”

“Fuck it, I don’t care,” she spat back, but she cared. It hurt to the bone, and although she knew she had fucked up, she still thought Cassian was wrong.

“Go back to your quarters and stay there until I try and sort this mess,” he said, turning around and leaving her there.

Cora leaned on the wall and took a few deep breaths trying to stop the tears, but it was in vain. She trudged back to her quarters and collapsed into a chair, sobbing into her hands. When she managed to stop crying long enough to rip off her uniform and go into the bathroom, she looked in the mirror and noticed the smeared blood on her face. There were dried droplets on her face and hair and more blood smeared by her hands and tears. She felt like vomiting, but made an effort to get into the shower.

She cried in the shower too, vigorously scrubbing away all the blood. She could still feel it on her hands, wet and warm, seeping into her skin no matter how long she scrubbed. Once she was tired, she got out of the shower, got dressed and wrapped herself into a blanket and cried some more.

The anger slowly died down and so did the adrenaline. Now that she was thinking a little more clearly, she realized what a stupid thing she had done. She had disobeyed a direct order, which she knew would instantly kick her out of the military—in her case, send her back to the cell—but more than that she hadn’t thought about how Cassian would feel seeing her run like an idiot right across the middle of the battlefield. She hadn't thought about him at all. Of course he was responsible for everyone and of course he would try to find the best solution. He cared about everyone just as much as she did, maybe more, but he was a lot more level headed than she was. And she just put his life in danger by not thinking of any of that.

She wrapped herself tighter in the sheets, shivering as if she was cold. She wished she could fall asleep to forget about the horrible day she had just lived, but whenever she closed her eyes she could either see the dying man, bleeding and talking about his stream, or Cassian’s angry face, yelling at her in the hallways.

By the time she heard a knock on the door, she was sobbing once again. She got up and wiped away her tears, wishing she’d just misheard, and everyone would just leave her the fuck alone for the day. She hoped that they’d at least let her sleep in her own bed tonight before sending her to prison. Another part of her really wished she could see Cassian, to find a little comfort in his presence, but after the argument in the hallway she was afraid of what he’d say to her. When the second knock came she had to make an effort to go to the door instead of wrapping herself in blankets and pretending she wasn’t there.

Luckily it was just Cassian, no guards in sight. He didn’t seem to be angry anymore. At least not the searing hot anger she’d witnessed a few hours back, but Cora was still a little wary. She took a few steps back to let him in, and he did, letting the door close behind him. He stood awkwardly by the door, like he didn’t know if he was welcome anymore and even though he wasn’t saying anything, the apologetic look on his face was enough.

Cora made the first move, tentatively hugging him, and when he returned the hug she let out a sigh of relief and rested her head on his shoulder. They stood like that for a while, in complete silence, and Cora was finally able to calm down a bit and stop being on the brink of tears.

“I’m sorry,” he said, finally breaking the silence between them. “I shouldn’t have yelled at you,” he whispered, nuzzling into her hair.

“You were right to,” Cora mumbled, pressing her nose in his shirt. He smelled like standard issue soap. “I did some dumb shit today.”

“Yeah you did. But I still should have kept calm.” He took a deep breath. “Promise me you won’t do it again.”

Cora broke the embrace and climbed back into bed, wrapping herself in the covers and leaning on the wall. “I don’t think I’ll have the chance to do it again, since I’ll be grounded for the rest of my days.” Or jailed, one more fun than the other.

Cassian followed her and took a seat at the edge of her bed, keeping her back to her. She could see his profile illuminated by the tank on the desk, and he was silent for a few moments, seeming lost in thought. “They didn’t drop you from the program yet. You’re still an emergency field doctor.”

“How?” she asked, knowing full well there was no chance they’d let her do anything after pulling a move like that.

“I didn’t tell them you disregarded a direct order.”

“You lied for me?” she said, scooting closer to him.

Frowning, he looked at her over his shoulder like he was outraged by her supposition. “Of course not,” he denied. “I just left out a few details.”

“I think that would technically still be lying,” she said, resting her chin on his shoulder, enjoying the familiar feeling of his beard on her skin.

“Don’t make me regret it,” he said, and Cora could tell that despite the apparent calm on his face he was still rather hurt and angry. She couldn’t blame him, she would be angry too. “Don’t ever run off like that without telling me, because I won’t always be able to protect you.” It sounded half resentful, half like a plea, and Cora felt really guilty for making him feel like that, but she knew it would be really hard to just be patient and wait. “Promise me,” he said, looking at her over his shoulder.

Cora breathed deeply. He was asking a lot. If it was anyone else asking this of her she would just smile and say yes, but she knew he would never take an empty promise. And neither would she want to give him one.

“Can you promise me that you’ll never knowingly put your life in danger while on a mission?” she asked instead.

“Cora…” He looked at her with a really sad expression on her face and Cora already knew what he would say. “You know I can’t promise something like that.”

“Then I can’t promise something like that either,” she said, scooting back to her place, leaning on the wall, the blanket on her shoulders.

“This is my job, Cora…”

“Then quit.”

“What?” He looked at her with such a shocked expression on his face that Cora had to stifle a laugh.

“Quit and let’s run away. We can go someplace where no one knows who we are and live as farmers for the rest of our days. I can tell you that I’m completely useless, and a terrible roommate, but you’ll laugh your ass off watching me stumble and fall face first into bantha shit.” She was only half joking. Actually she wasn’t joking at all, but she already knew what his answer would be. If he said yes, though, she would pack her bags and leave without a second thought. “You could teach me how to cook.”

Cassian laughed and it seemed that the whole tension between them vanished into thin air. “You really know how to make it seem enticing,” he said, taking off his shoes and crawling into bed with her. Cora lifted her blanket to let him in besides her. Cassian put an arm around her shoulders and pulled her closer, softly kissing her temple. “At least promise me that you’ll listen to me on the next mission. I can’t take care of everyone if no one listens to me.”

Only now did Cora realize just how much responsibility was hanging on his shoulders and how much it affected him. If she felt guilty because she didn’t get so save someone, she didn’t even want to think how Cassian was feeling after losing so many people on that battlefield. Cora realized how selfish she had been, only thinking about her own feelings. She nodded and settled into his embrace.

“Did you know him?” she asked, after a few moments of silence. She could still smell blood whenever she breathed in. “Lieutenant Berav, did you know him?”

“Yeah,” Cassian answered, pulling her a little closer.

“He died,” she said, although she was certain he already knew that. “He was talking about his family before he passed.” There it was, the feeling that she was going to start crying once again, but she made an effort to swallow the tears. She knew she had cried more than enough, but for some reason she was really shaken by his death. Maybe he had been the catalyst for every emotion she had bottled over the past year to just start pouring out.

“I know,” Cassian whispered in her ear and kissed her temple once again. “I know.”

They didn’t speak much after that, settling into a comforting silence. Cora’s mind was still very loud, but slowly, the shouts became whispers and she was starting to doze off in Cassian’s warm embrace.

She had no idea when she fell asleep for good, or how they moved around so they’d sleep in a normal position. But what surprised her the most when she woke up in the morning, was Cassian’s sleeping figure still next to her in bed. She shifted a little and looked at the clock. It was close to her usual waking hour on a workday. Cassian would normally be long gone by this hour, so it was surprising to still see him sleeping. Well at least now she was convinced he did sleep, she thought shuffling back under the covers, nuzzling into his chest.

“Morning,” she said, once Cassian opened his eyes and looked at her with an unfocused gaze.

“Morning,” he mumbled, stretching. He glanced at the clock then settled back into bed and closed his eyes.

“Do you have work today?” Cora asked, praying for him to say no so they could both go back to sleep and spend a lazy day together, although she didn’t have much hope.

“Mhm,” he mumbled, and Cora pouted. “We have a mission debriefing after breakfast, but there’s no need to hurry just yet.”

“Oh,” she said, feeling her stomach sink. She had forgotten that she had to actually be debriefed on yesterday’s mission which meant talking directly to Draven and she knew how that would go, even without her fuck up. She was starting to feel sick already.

“Draven won’t be there,” Cassian said, knowing perfectly well what she was thinking. “He left last night. You should just stand your ground and you’ll be fine. I’ll be there to back you up.”

Cora felt really bad that he had to back her up when they both knew she was in the wrong, but she was incredibly thankful for his willingness to help her out.

“Thank you,” she said, kissing him on the cheek. “And I’m sorry for all the trouble I’ve caused you.”

“Yesterday, or in general?” Cora smacked him over the head and he laughed.

“It’s pretty early, should we go back to sleep?”

“What are the alternatives?”

“Well…” she said, climbing on top of him. “I might have a few ideas.”

Masterlist

#cassian andor #cassian andor x original female character #cassian andor x reader #cassian andor x ofc #rogue one

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