Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

VAULENT 6, GORATHION-SYSTEM.

“Look, mom!”

It was a time of much simpler things.

Eva took the tray of fuming cookies out of the oven and held it in the air like a trophy. Eline stood next to her and spun a little. She was five and Eva seven when she held it in her hands with thick gloves isolating her from the hot tray. Mom walked towards her, breaking through the rays of sunlight that shone through the kitchen windows, and she looked at the fuming cookies with a hum.

“Honey, they look beautiful!’’ Mom said with a sparkling smile.

Eva giggled. She put the tray on the counter to let them cool, and as the white vapour clouds rose in the air and were sucked in by the ventilation shaft, Eva looked in awe at the cookies she made. With a metal mould, Eva shaped the sticky dough into perfect, circular pats. With some help, Eline painted the figurines of Stormtroopers on the pats. They were sloppy, but it didn’t matter. Precision was out of the equation.

When she shoved one in her mouth, Eva felt like her taste buds were overloading with happiness. That feeling became stronger when the evening drew closer to midnight when Vaulent 6 celebrated a full solar rotation. Dad remarked the chocolate tasted too sweet but he took them anyways. Eva and Eline made them, so he felt grateful to take them with a smile. Though he had something to say about the taste, he understood that precision didn’t matter. A shaky arm wasn’t bad.

That’s all different now. Precision now draws the line between life and death. One misstep and another body is to be recovered from the battlefield, stacked on a pile of many other bodies the war has already, viciously claimed. Precision now matters.

Eva tightens her grip around her blaster. The memories of that day flash back like lightning. Looking down at the floor, her hands enclave the blaster’s handgrips, and they feel the same as the tray’s steel handlebars when she held it six years ago. Cold, tough, and heavy. It contrasts the burning nerves and Eva takes a deep breath to keep them under control. It’s early in the morning, but her nerves allow no yawn to form. 

Eva looks up and glances around. Sitting next to her is the Tech Goddess, Peyton, gazing at the bright screen of her datapad, jabbing and scrolling captivated. Ashara, on the other side of the cabin, whispers in Pantoran words softly, counting the medspikes in her backpack. Her golden facial tattoos on her blue skin shimmer a little as her lips move gently. Eva shifts her eyes to Ecklund sitting next to Ashara, checking her Firepuncher sniper rifle. Its hefty barrel is polished to the brim, hiding its old cracks. No one can tell the weapon is a veteran of the Clone Wars. Eva’s eyes are immediately drawn to the twinkles on Ecklund’s round glasses, shining like two stars. The quiet girl still hasn’t said a word since yesterday evening. 

The mission of today isn’t different. It’s the same as the previous two, but they both share a common danger: Rebel scum. They’re not just underground terrorists anymore. Over the years, they’ve become formidable soldiers with experience and deadly blaster weapons. They get tougher to destroy and it fuels her nervousness. Even when she has already pulled off crazy acts that almost cost her life, the nerves burn nonetheless. Eva presses her hand against the cold bench and tries to escape from the heat, until it draws closer to Peyton’s hand and touches it. Peyton looks up from her datapad and a smile forms on her face as she makes eye contact with her.

“Nervous?” Peyton asks.

Eva nods and a thin smile forms on her face. 

“Just nervous about what we could stumble upon,” she replies.

Peyton nods. “It’ll be fine,” and she grasps and holds Eva’s hand. “You’re with me in the team.”

Eva smirks. “Sooo, can’t get any worse, can it?”

Peyton chuckles and she shakes her head with a smile. “I guess not.”

Eva chuckles and nods a little. “You’re not bad, Peyt. I’m happy to be with you.”

She tightens her grasp on Peyton’s hand, feeling happy to feel the warmth of assurance. The last time they were in a team together was before everything went wrong, when the Spy invaded her life with violence and unmasked itself as the person she’s known all her life. It’s been months ago when Eva put the barrel on Lu’s face and discovered her old teacher was the biggest enemy of her life. It was her, a Rebel spy and murderer Eva could hold responsible for her parents and Eline's injury. The ashes it left behind still remain, and Eva can still feel the scars her fight with Lu left behind. Everything that happened gave her another view of the war. No longer does she see Rebels as demons, but as people with their own motives and reasons to fight, just like her. When she saw Lu deported away in an ITT of the ISB, not only did it give her another perspective, but also more strength to fight for what she still has. Eva smiles with determination.

“Let’s kick their ass,” Eva responds.

Peyton nods and chuckles.

Suddenly, the cabin door swishes open. Roslin steps out, holding her helmet below her arm with a piece of gum being chewed on in her jaws. The shine of authority never wears off in her commander’s eyes and Eva feels the atmosphere changing.

“We’re almost there,’’ says Roslin, and puts her helmet on her head. ‘’Get yourself ready.’’

With a nod, Eva sweeps the helmet lying on the bench next to her onto her head. Her eyes disappear behind the pitch-black visor and her hair is covered by the plastoid armour. Slowly, her heart starts speeding up until it races in her chest, unable to calm down.

“Form up,” Roslin orders.

Eva stands up, grasps her blaster, and gets in line with the rest of her squad; Roslin and Ashara at the front, Peyton and her in the middle, and Ecklund at the back. She gazes at the cabin door ahead of her, ready to sprint out of it when it swings open.

“Peyton, you know the plan?” Roslin asks, tilting her head up.

“Yes, commander,” Peyton replies. “Eva and I clear Sector C. So, nothing too fancy. Just sweep it and clean it.”

Roslin nods. “Exactly. Now let’s put words into deeds.”

“Yes sir,” Peyton replies.

The troop transporter comes to a halt and Eva feels her weight shifting forward. Lights flash red on the ceiling and a whirring sound fills the cabin. She clenches the grips of her E-10 in her hands until her hands ache. The cabin door swings open, pounding on the tarmac and Eva storms out of the cabin. She runs onto the street pavement, following her commander in front of her. Stormtroopers run out of another troop transporter, hurdling their way towards a vacant mid-rise office building in the middle of Vaulent Capital. The buildings of the city draw long shadows as the sun rises into the sky, burning in her back as Eva runs towards the front door of the office block. The front door is wide open, blasted out of its hinges as the first troopers vanish into the building. Eva hurdles past morning commuters, nailed to the ground by the sudden invasion of security forces. She follows her squad through the door and enters the building, immediately stepping into a hallway, dimly lit by rows of ceiling lights.

Roslin turns around and points to another corridor. “Peyton, that way!”

“Copy,” Peyton responds. “Eva, on me!”

Peyton passes her and Eva continues to follow her through a corridor, splitting off from the rest of the squad. The pair raise their blasters and their boots pound on the ceramic floor plates on the same rhythm as her racing heart. The ceiling lights cast the corridor in a dim, white-yellow light and behind her, she hears screeches of blasterfire, muffled and far away. The shots don’t make fear run through her veins; she’s grown used to hearing blasters firing with death coming soon after. What does make fear rush through her, however, is what Eva gets to stumble upon. An insurgent taking her with the blast, a Twi’lek operative blowing up the support structure - out of experience, she knows the Rebels are more capable than what meets the eye. Despite the nervousness, the grown competence of the Rebels makes her feel all the more determined to prove them wrong.

They stumble upon a shut blast door in the middle of the corridor. It’s undoubtedly hiding something, and Eva slams the button with her elbow, but it won’t open. 

“Peyt, it’s locked,” she says, glancing at her.

Peyton nods, lowers herself to the floor and drops her backpack. “On it.”

“How long will it take?”

“Shorter than blinking your eyes,” Peyton responds, zipping her backpack open and she glances up. “Set your stopwatch.”

Eva smirks.

Peyton grasps her datapad and starts hacking the lock of the blast door. The screen’s bright digits are reflected on her helmet as the Tech Goddess slices through the lock’s firewall until she looks up at Eva.

“And?” Eva asks.

Peyton remains silent until her screen flashes brightly blue.

“Done,” Peyton smirks.

The blast door screeches open and disappears into the wall. Once again, there’s nothing the Tech Goddess cannot break in the digital realm. Great job, Peyt.

Eva enters through the opened blast door with her blaster raised, and Peyton follows and covers her back. Glancing around, Eva sees at the end of the hallway a doorway to a large chamber. It’s dimly lit and she can see the orange sky through the roof windows. Suddenly, her eyes draw to a Rebel insurgent walking into view. Her heart skips a beat and the pair split up, hurdling to both sides of the doorway to take cover, hiding from the Rebel. She holds her blaster tightly against her body, trying to make her as small as possible. Her heart pounds in her chest as amidst the beats, a voice suddenly turns up.

“Get those packed!” one shouts. “We don’t have long.”

Packed? What are you packing?

“Did anyone pass through Corridor 7?”

“No,” responds another voice. “The Imps are in Sector E.”

“Good. Keep them boxed in there.”

Keep them boxed in?

It becomes clear to Eva it’s strategy, deliberate; intensify the heat on one side of the building to draw Imperial reinforcement away from the important areas. The Rebels throw every man they got into the pit of hell and ensure the monsters bite, distracting them from whatever they’re packing before they vanish. Intel, armament, contacts, fugitives, hope…  They should be stopped.

The footsteps of the Rebel slowly fade away. He seems to have walked away, and Eva shifts her head to Peyton, hiding behind the doorway on the other side. She nods, gesturing to take action before those Rebel scum set off with whatever they’re packing. They still have the element of surprise and they have to use it while they can. On Peyton’s belt, Eva sees a thermal detonator hanging from her waist. She taps on her own waist at the same position as Peyton’s grenade, signalling that she has to use it. The element of surprise and chaos can work perfectly together. Eva can take them by surprise while the blast shakes them off of their feet. It can work.

Peyton notices her hand gestures and looks down at her waist, and nods. With slightly shaking hands, Peyton grasps it, puts her finger on the trigger, pushes it, and throws it into the chamber. She can hear the metal ball rolling over the floor and hitting a doorstep. Its faint beeps echo into the hallway and Eva closes her eyes.

“Hey, Virnox,” one voice shouts, “the hell’s that? Check the ammo box!”

Before the other Rebel can answer, a screech pierces through the air. The sudden flash is followed by a shockwave shaking the floor, shuddering it with terror. A man screams at the top of his lungs with agony as ceiling plates clatter on the floor. Eva opens her eyes as a cloud of smoke rushes past her into the hallway. She glances at Peyton. The girl nods, and Eva clenches her blaster and turns away from the corner, raising her blaster and running into the chamber. 

As she steps around a gaping gap in the floor, Eva’s eyes land on a Rebel soldier, lying on the ground and reaching for his legs. Or where his legs used to be. Without thought, Eva immediately hits him in the face with a screech. His head drops with a thud on the floor while Peyton makes her way, covering the right side of the chamber while Eva covers the left. 

In the corner of her eye, Eva sees the silhouette of a Rebel traversing the thick smoke, trying to get away from the chaos. She raises her blaster and hits the figure in the leg. He drops to his knees, but before Eva can shoot him to death, another figure emerges from the smoke and he raises his A280 at her. Eva jumps to a steel truss pillar and crashes with her back into it as the blaster bolts shriek past her. Some hit the pillar and erupt in sparks. Feeling the impact of the blaster bolts through the steel, Eva takes a big gasp of air, clenches her hand, and moves around the pillar. Within a second, Eva’s gunsight lands on the Rebel, fires, and hits him in the chest. She hits the other Rebel in the shoulder and he falls to the floor with a scream.  Two more Rebel traitors dead.

“Take it!” 

A man’s shivering voice echoes through the chamber with panic, and as Eva leaps away from the pillar, she notices three dark silhouettes moving through the smoke away from her. They’re trying to escape, heading for a narrow corridor, and through the smoke, Eva notices they’re holding something in their hands. They have something they’re escaping with. She has no doubt it’s valuable. It must be. Any good mind would leave behind the useless scrap in a warzone, unless it’s so valuable that the Rebel Alliance depends on it. She knows they can’t escape.

Eva raises her blaster, trying to stop them, but a blaster shot shrieks past her and she shakes, leaping away to another pillar. She crashes into it, taking cover and bumps into the side of Peyton, taking cover here as well. 

She turns to her. 

“Peyt, they have something and they’re getting away!” Eva shouts.

Peyton nods. “Go after them, I’ll cover you!”

In an instant, Peyton turns around the pillar and opens fire, letting a rain of fire hurdling towards the remaining Rebels. Eva leaps away from her cover and runs towards the narrow corridor the three silhouettes escaped through. While Peyton distracts the other Rebels in the chamber, Eva runs into the corridor, stumbles through the doorway, and follows the three. She raises her blaster but she’s unable to aim while running. She knows she can’t stop to aim. She’d lose them. So, Eva runs on, trying to track them until they stumble into a perfect window of time. She chases the three into a staircase, climbs, and enters the highest floor of the office building. Her lungs burn with agony as she’s almost unable to catch up with her breath, but she can’t stop. Rebels are Rebels. They’re scum. They deserve to die no matter what, and Eva’s lust for Rebel blood never runs dry. 

Chasing them, Eva raises her blaster again, a second attempt at hitting them. As her swaying gunsight lands on the back of a Rebel, she opens fire, but she misses and instead, hits the ceiling. One Rebel stops in his track, turns around, raises his A280 and before she can take cover, she’s hit in the shoulder. Eva flies backwards with a scream and crashes into the floor. A shockwave rushes through her body and Eva groans, feeling her shoulder burn like flames. The pain makes her lungs gasp for air quicker than she’s able to. Eva grasps her helmet, pulls it off and throws it onto the floor, gasping for air relentlessly as she tries to cool the fire in her shoulder. With clenched teeth, she glances at her shoulder and sees a burn mark on the armour. Luckily, it isn’t one of the crevices the armour plates barely protect. 

In the corner of her eye, she sees the Rebel soldier who shot her turning around a corner and vanishing out of view. She can feel the rage building up in her chest and her blood starts boiling. Clenching her teeth with anger, she can feel her fury starting to burn within her. You think you can take me? I’ll get you, blasted scumbag.

She grasps her blaster lying on the floor, gets up, and starts running through the corridor. Eva runs around the corner and nears a wide-open emergency door at the end of the corridor. She runs through it, leaps onto the roof, and there, she sees the three Rebels running, trying to escape. The sun has already risen higher into the sky and whatever the Rebels are carrying reflects the sunlight. They’re suitcases, and as her eyes land on the shiny cargo, Eva knows it’s valuable and vital for the Alliance to survive this war. Take their intel away and they’re powerless. She can’t let them escape.

Running behind them, Eva raises her blaster, aims at them, and pulls the trigger. She misses, but the second shot is bull’s eye. A Rebel lets out a scream and crashes into the roof with a thud. His suitcase clatters on the metal roof. One down, two left.

But then, Eva notices they’re nearing the end of the building. The roof ends at the abyss, going down four storeys. She knows they won’t drop themselves off the roof. It would be their death, and as she runs on, Eva sees her victory coming closer with each leap. 

But at the edge, Eva notices there are handlebars of a red emergency ladder sticking out. One Rebel drops himself, takes the handlebars and vanishes. Eva realises it’s their escape. No longer is victory coming closer; it’s defeat. Running closer, she curses under her breath, realising the roof isn’t where it stops.

Blasted hell, they’re getting away.

She raises her blaster one more time, but due to her swaying, Eva misses the target. The blaster shot shrieks past the Rebel, nearly scorching his brown jacket as he drops himself to the roof, grasps the handlebars and vanishes from her sight. 

No no no, they can’t escape. 

Her heart aches in her chest as Eva comes closer. Nearing the edge, she stops and peers down, but as soon as she sees the two Rebels climbing down the emergency ladder, Eva notices a speeder rumbling in the alley. Four other Rebels swarm it and notice her on the roof before she can fire back.

“Up there!” one shouts.

Eva leaps away from the edge, dodging the fire as they shriek past her into the sky. She crashes into the roof with her back.

“Come on! Get in now!”

Blasted hell, you kriffin’ don’t!

Staying low, Eva quickly crawls to the edge of the roof and peers down, and sees the Rebels with suitcases stepping in the speeder. She tries to aim her blaster but the other Rebels fire at her. One shot nearly hits her and the sparks fly in her face. She screams with shock, retracts back to her cover and curses under her breath. She can’t get an opening to fire back, their cover fire is too tough to overcome. She peers over the edge again and she sees the last Rebel stepping into the speeder. Eva raises her blaster, aims, and hits the Rebel in his face before he can shut his door. He falls out of the speeder and his lifeless body slams on the tarmac. 

Suddenly, the speeder shrieks away. The Rebels leave the dead body of their colleague behind in dust and speed away through the alley. Eva’s pupils grow with frustration and she gets up in an instant.

“No no no.”

Eva raises her blaster, aims at the speeder, and fires. However, her shots ricochet off the roof and are deflected into the sky. One shot hits the back window, making it shatter in pieces, but it has no effect. The Rebels speed away and vanish out of view, and Eva’s heart plummets with frustration. They’re gone from her sight and Eva lowers her blaster with clenched teeth.

“Blast it!” she shouts.

However, the fight isn’t over yet. One last chance remains to take those fleeing Rebels down, and Eva reaches out for her wristlink. She moves it towards her chin and speaks.

“Ecklund, Rebels are fleeing in a speeder!” she nearly shouts at her wristlink. “Main road, southeast.”

At the peak of a telecom tower in the far distance, Ecklund moves her wristlink towards her chin. The lonely girl sits at the top of it with her sniper rifle clenched in her hands, ready to shoot any fleeing Rebel in the head on sight. 

“Got it,” she answers. 

The girl moves her sniper rifle towards the nearest avenue and looks through the scope. With the eyes of an eagle, Ecklund hovers with the crosshair over the road until it lands on a speeder, shrieking over the tarmac and running through a red light. She aims at the radiator of the engine hood and holds her breath until she pulls the trigger. A powerful shot crosses the sky and hits the hood’s weakspot. Ecklund looks away from the scope and sees the fleeing speeder erupting in flames until it explodes. The speeder goes airborne, flips, and crashes with its roof on the road with flames engulfing it. Bull’s eye.

Eva hears the blast and shifting her head in the direction, she sees a cloud of black smoke rising in the air. It twirls in the sky as the breeze blows over the roofs of the buildings. Lowering her wristlink, Eva feels a wave of relief rushing through her. Her heart calms down as she knows she’s done her part of the mission, and a thin smile forms on her face. The Rebels had no chance of escape, and even when she almost blew it, they faced their inevitable demise. Knowing they’re dead makes her smile grow all the more. They deserved it.

“You never fail, Ecklund,” Eva whispers.

Eva rolls the dead body of the Rebel around and uncovers the metal suitcase he was holding for dear life. With intrigue taking her over, Eva grasps it, shoots off the lock with her blaster, and after a screech, the suitcase opens. It reveals rows of chain codes, metal pins as part of the Imperial method of identification. They’re all in perfect shape, forged with precision and care to fool Imperial security, to cover the fact they’re terrorists searched for the most horrible crimes against her world. Eva has stopped them, and with a glance at the chain codes, she shifts the wristlink to her chin.

“Commander, Sector C is clear,” she speaks.

“Copy that,” Roslin’s voice crackles. “Return to rendezvous, the building is clear.”

“Copy that,” Eva responds. “See you soon.”

All the Rebels that resided in this office building have been neutralised or captured. The pests that infested this building will all gaze at the steel bars with no longer time to witness the last sunrise of their birthplace. Knowing the Rebel terrorists will never see daylight ever again makes Eva gaze at the blissful sun with a smile. The blazing orange star announces another day during the Imperial Reign with another pack of Rebel hounds eradicated. With a sigh, Eva lifts the suitcase from the roof and walks back with the trophy in her hand. The job is over. Mission completed. 

IMPERIAL ELITE 

PART II: ACT ON INSTINCT

With the victory prize enclaved in her hand, Eva steps out of the ITT cabin into the vast hangar bay of the Academy building. It fills up with TIE Vulcan tanks returning from the raid and other ITTs unloading their troops. The golden rule they all follow is to leave everything that happened in the past. Captured Rebel blasters, hard drives, bombs - all the evidence that’s retrieved from the hide-out is thrown on pallets. They don’t matter anymore, not even the victory prize Eva holds in her hands. Lingering too much about what happened prior is distracting, and soldiers can’t have that. Not even glancing at it, Eva slams the metal suitcase on a pallet while a grey protocol droid stands by, watching all of the loot piling up. The suitcase she retrieved isn’t hers as it now belongs to the ISB to figure out what to do with it, and Eva forgets everything about it. It’s a piece of evidence. The more they get to investigate, the more Rebels will be prosecuted and Eva is glad to help in the Imperial cause.

“Hey, Eva.”

Eva shifts her head and sees Roslin approaching her. 

“Commander?” she asks.

“Another mission completed,” says Roslin, and she gives her a fist bump. “Good work you did there.”

A smile forms on Eva’s face. “Thanks. Was pretty rough out there.”

“How’s that shot wound?” Roslin asks.

She quickly glances at her shoulder as it’s wrapped in a bandage. The wound still stings a little but the pain subsided quickly after Ashara pumped the painkillers into her veins. All that’s left is a dull burning sensation to be neglected.

“It’s nothing,” Eva replies, turning back to Roslin.

“Good to hear,” she nods. “Up for a drink at the canteen? You know, celebrating the successful raid?”

A smile forms on Eva’s face, happy to accept the offer, but her thoughts drift away to something different that’s far more important and it pushes her to decline Roslin’s offer. Though she feels disappointed that she can’t go with her commander, there’s something so important that she can’t leave it.

“I’d like to,” Eva responds, “but no, I’m sorry. There’s someone I have to visit.”

Half an hour later, Eva steps out of the ITT that has brought her to the edge of the Capital. The tall, green trees cover most of the ground with shadows as white clouds scattered across the sky cascade over her. She takes a deep breath, smelling the freshness of the leaves that twirl over the ground in the breeze. Eva turns to the ITT driver sitting on his chair. A few months back, she managed to convince Academy Command to send out an ITT to take her to the outskirts of the Capital. They understood this trip was valuable to her, and so they respected her request.

“Hey, I’ll be back within half an hour I think,” says Eva.

The driver turns around to her. “That’s fine, cadet. I’ll wait here, but don’t stay away for too long. I’m bound to a time slot.”

“Yes sir,” and with that, Eva walks away.

Walking over the dirt trail and passing some parents of children, Eva passes a metal sign of the Imperial Scouting Group. Some daycare employees walk around to take care of the Junior Scouts who run around having fun. After being pointed in the right direction by one of the daycarers, Eva walks through the trees until-

“Hands up!”

Eva stops in her tracks, instantly recognising the soothing voice of a little girl.

“I said, hands up!”

With a smile forming on her face, Eva raises her hands and turns around. With the warmth growing in her heart, her eyes land on Eline, standing on the trail behind her with a metal bow in her hands. The tensioned string trembles a little in her cybernetic hand as she points it at Eva, and she chuckles a little.

“Okay, you got me,” she smiles, and she steps towards her little sister. “I surrender.”

Eline smiles as she keeps the bow up. “You will, Rebel scum!”

Eva bursts into laughter. “You’re calling me a Rebel?”

Eline chuckles and lowers her bow with a shining smile on her face. “Hi, Eva.”

Smiling, Eva entangles her arms around her little sister in a warm hug, pulling her close to her. She can feel the heart of her little sister pounding in a constant rhythm. It feels like a symphony, one that makes the tension and the danger at the Academy wash away in an instant, and she pulls Eline even closer to her to feel her warmth.

Eline moves her head closer to Eva’s ears. 

“I missed you,” she whispers.

“Missed you too,” Eva whispers back, and she lets go of the embrace, looking at Eline’s blue, twinkling eyes. 

“How has it been, my little Scout trooper?” she asks.

“Astral,” Eline responds in an instant. “Yesterday, we went out on a trip and searched for traces. We found the footprints of a Verdant Gazer.”

The joy splashes off of Eline’s smile and Eva can barely hold in the warmth in her heart as she listens with intrigue.

“And they also dump old starfighters here nearby and-, look, we made our own bowcasters.”

Eva looks down at her metal bow and lifts it up with her hand. It’s an elegant bow made from the outer exhaust pipe of an unknown starfighter. A single string spans from tip to tip and a little gunsight made from another component hangs from the bow to aim. It’s rough and weathered, but it looks good for something made from scrap, and Eva looks up with bewilderment.

“You made this yourself?” Eva wonders.

“Yeah,” Eline nods.

“It looks very good,” Eva smiles. “It must be more powerful than my blaster.”

Eline chuckles.

“And now you’re playing as a Stormtrooper?”

“No,” Eline replies. “I play you.”

Eva tilts her head with surprise and her heart melts away by Eline’s comment, left speechless.

“As me?” Eva blurts out, struck with warmth. “I’m honoured. Am I a good character in the game?”

“The best of the best!” Eline responds. “The most dangerous Rebel killer in the galaxy!”

Eva chuckles. “I love it, Eline. What’s the mission?”

Eline’s smile suddenly crookens with mischief. “Your mission?”

Suddenly, Eline grasps the E-10 blaster hanging around her sister’s waist before Eva can respond. 

“Your mission is to get it back!”

Eva’s smile disappears. Even when Eline means it so innocently, a weapon in the wrong hands can quickly turn into trouble, and she steps towards her, wanting to take her blaster back, but Eline backs away.

“Hey, Eline, give back,” says Eva, a bit worried. “It’s not a toy to play with.”

Eline’s mischievous smile grows and she starts backing away. “Just catch me.”

“Eline-,”

“Aren’t you the best soldier of the Academy?”

Eva sighs with a bit of frustration rising in her voice, but she suppresses them. Fine, Eline. Wanna bet I catch you quicker than I kill Rebels?

Eline runs off with her blaster locked in her hands, and Eva starts running. She chases her sister through the woods, dashing past the thick trees and jumping over the logs of fallen trees. Eva closes in on her sister as she chases Eline onto a wooden staircase that leads them to a tree platform. It’s suspended a few meters above the ground and Eva notices a steel cable suspended between the tree and another one 20 meters in the distance. As Eva catches up, Eline suddenly jumps from the platform and catches the cable with her metal hand. Eva stops in her tracks and baffled, she gazes at Eline surfing the cableway with her cybernetic as if it’s nothing. Her metal hand leaves behind a trail of sparks until she ends up at the other side of the cableway and lets go. Eva is nailed to the ground with bafflement. You’re kidding me?

“Hey, that’s not fair!” Eva shouts to the other side.

Eline chuckles. “Come and get me!”

Eva sighs. Little wombat. Why did I even start with this?

She looks around to see if there’s a way to catch up and sees a zipliner attached to the cable with two handlebars. She grasps them with their hands, leaps from the platform and ziplines to the other side. The zipline screeches as she speeds towards the tree. Nearing the end, Eva jumps off before the zipline comes to a halt and leaps onto the ground. She comes with her knees on the soil, gets up, and catches up with Eline. 

Eva catches Eline and entangles her arms around her, stopping her from running further. “Got ya!”

Eline bursts into laughter as she lets go of the blaster and drops it on the ground. Eva’s military instincts kick in and she pushes Eline to the ground. As her little sister lies with a smile on the ground, Eva bends over with her knees in the dirt and looks at her as if she pushed an alien to the ground to arrest him for robbery. The smile on her face grows as she pants heavily. 

“You thought you could get away from me, didn’t you?” Eva chuckles.

Eline smiles. “Mission completed, trooper.”

“I thought so.”

Suddenly, Eline’s chuckles turn into wheezes and she coughs heavily like the stuttering engine block of a truck. Her cheeks turn red and her eyes start watering with pain. The concrete bits and heavy metals of her home that collapsed still remain in Eline’s lungs. A further diagnosis of the nurses revealed that the dust of her home wasn't the only factor in damaging her lungs. It was jetfuel too. That B-Wing that crashed down threw everything onto a whole other path. Eva can see the agony in her sister’s eyes for a moment. Eline reaches out for her jacket’s pocket and pulls out her inhaler. Putting it on her mouth, she takes one big gasp and her lungs stop shuddering. 

The diagnosis stated her recovery would take an awful lot of time. So far, the meds haven't done much, but perhaps it needs more time. The body doesn't like rushing in and slowly after another gasp of her inhaler, Eline gets her stalling lungs under control. However, the agony still remains in her eyes and Eva clenches her jaws with sorrow. She curses under her breath. Dank Ferrik. I'm sorry Eline that you have to go through this, god.

Eva and Eline sit on the ground with their back leaning against the thick trunk of a tree, towering over them with lush, green leaves. With Eline’s cybernetic on her lap, Eva carefully draws a black line over the white metal with a marker. Connecting the lines and filling up the goggles, Eva finishes the little figurine of a Stormtrooper. It fills the barren surface of Eline’s metal arm. She looks up at her sister as her eyes fill with awe.

“What do you think?” she asks.

“It looks astral!”

Eva smiles and puts her back against the tree trunk. “Now, your arm is yours instead of a product of some corporation. Does it feel better now?”

Eline gazes at the figurine on her cybernetic and nods with a smile. “It looks less ugly now. Thanks.”

Eva nods, feeling happy to help her. Ever since the air strike left her with an arm less, Eline felt her cybernetic was alien, like it didn’t belong to her. Eline felt like it was wrong to wear it. Now, with Eva’s own creative touch, it feels a little bit more human and she feels glad to make it feel like it’s Eline’s and not the product of a distant corporation on Kuat. With a smile, Eline bends over and puts her head on Eva’s chest and wraps her arms around her older sister.

Next to her on the ground lies her helmet tied to her backpack. With the same marker Eva drew the figurine on the cybernetic, Eline drew her name and Eva within the outlines of a heart. The black lines dominate the armour plate protecting her forehead, and looking at it, Eva’s heart warms up with joy, flattered by Eline’s work of art. Even on the armour of a war machine, there’s a hint of love Eva can find her way back with. 

Entangling her arms around Eline, Eva’s eyes land on her wristlink. Blast it. It’s time.

Within a few minutes, the ITT is forced to depart, and Eva doesn’t want to be stranded here. Even when her service stops, the service of another continues, and any delay is unaffordable in the tight schedules of the military.

“Blasted, I have to go,” and Eva pushes herself from the ground and gets up.

“Can I come with you?” Eline wonders, getting up as well.

“To the Academy? I'm sorry, I can’t take you with me,” Eva responds.

The shine suddenly wears off in Eline’s eyes as they fill with frustration.

“Why not?” Eline asks, gazing at her. 

Eva lets out a sigh and looks away into the blue sky. She’s told her many times why she can’t go to the Academy, but Eline struggles to grasp it. Eva understands it, but it’s for her own good to stay where she is. The Academy is a place that’s often underestimated, and most cadets like her pay the full price.

“Eline, the Academy is tough,” Eva sighs. “It’s a big responsibility which I almost failed to live with. It’s easy to lose your grip on reality there, and I paid the price.”

That price being a best friend she had to kiss goodbye. The migration office still flashes before her eyes, seeing her walking away. The pain has subsided over the months, but it remains a soft, aching spot in her heart. 

“The military demands from you to withstand the most life-endangering situations without question,” Eva adds with a soft crack in her voice. “It’s really dangerous.”

Eline steps towards her, clenching her fists. “But I can take it! You’re the best, I can learn from you.”

“Eline, I know you’re curious,” Eva responds, and she puts her hands on her sister’s shoulder, “but you’re my little sister. You still have a childhood that I lost. I’ve devoted my whole life to the military to carry the weight of what I do. You’re still a child and I want you to enjoy what you still have.”

Eline draws a long face and rolls her eyes down, gazing at the ground.

“There’s so much childhood left to experience,” Eva says, almost whispering, “and-, the Academy won’t run away. It will always be there for you, but for now, that path is closed and I want you to focus on the life you still have which I don’t. When you’re ready, there’s still plenty of time for the Academy. For now, let’s focus on your recovery and your childhood, okay?”

Struggling to accept the truth, Eline gazes up and nods, pressing her lips together.

“What if they come?” Eline asks. “What if they come again?

Eline's voice suddenly cracks a little and Eva can hear a hint of her turmoil spewing out. 

"Eva, they did it with mom. They did it with dad. What about me?"

Eva tightens her grip on Eline. Her heart cracks a little about the last three words of Eline, and Eva pulls her sister closer to herself.

"When they come. I'll be there for you," Eva responds. “They can throw everything onto us, but those Rebel scum will never split us from each other, got it?”

Eline nods. As Eline's what about me echoes through her mind, Eva clenches her jaws with assurance. 

“Eline, I will always protect you. Anywhere, anytime."

Chapter Text

VALOR STATION, CARIDA

“The stars that once shaped the canvas of the cosmos now rule the lines of the battlefront.”

While the war effort drives in full motion, a space station orbiting the planet of Carida houses the yearly Imperial Strategy Conference. High-ranked Imperials from all across the galaxy come here for the 3-weeks event. Admirals, generals, colonels, Moffs; the Navy, the Army, Sector Command, ISB, Intelligence, COMPNOR, Ubiqtorate… All the key personnel and branches of the Imperial military are attending. No other time of the year of the Empire is more important than this single conference. 

While the hushed voice of a woman echoes through the monotone corridors of Valor Station, Kirbley makes his way to the center of the Strategy Conference. He checks his collar and looks down at the white suit he got tailored for this special event, checking for any rimples. It’s an important event that, if he had his normal clothing on as any other psychologist would, would become a walk of shame with the eyes of posh Imperials looking down at his civilian-looking outfit. But he sees his suit is decent. There’s no need to be worried and Kirbley walks on and steps into the massive conference chamber. It’s where the main talks of the event take place. Endless rows of seats stand before him, cascading downwards towards the stage where a large hologram plays out. It’s like a wall showing the colourful shades of a spacecraft soaring through space. He glances over the heads of all the Imperials sitting in the seats until he notices Carter and walks towards him.

“Are they still not done?” Kirbley whispers, shuffling past the feet of others.

Carter shifts his head to him.

“It’s Sienar,” he whispers nonchalantly. “They’re always the shinies out here.”

Kirbley sits down. “I thought they would wrap things up already after a leak.”

Sienar Fleet, TIEs, and the beauty of the cosmos are three undetachable things. Name TIE Interceptor and you’ll get the elegant promo-video of the craft in the cosmos; a slow burn that meanders around until it gets to the point, which was usually drawing in investors for financial support. This craft the hologram is showing is not a TIE Interceptor though. It’s an entirely new craft and it gets Kirbley a little bit intrigued. It’s probably not because of the spacecraft itself. It might very well be the hushed voice of a woman that draws his attention. He’s been single for most of his life so there’s that. But either way, he’s listening.

“We combine the stars with precision engineering, done by the best hands in our assembly halls. Sienar Fleet Systems proudly presents, the new TIE Interdictor,” the soft woman voice announces. “The Navy’s new generation of heavy bombers.”

The same spacecraft suddenly rolls onto the stage, through the hologram. It has a central TIE cockpit that’s flanked by two circular ordnance pods on both sides for a total of four. The more proton bombs it can drop, the fewer Rebel freedom fighters that will survive. It’s a brutal war machine that’s presented in a whirlwind of cosmic beauty and elegance. All the Imperial officers around him start clapping and a thunderous applause fills the conference room. Kirbley however, feels reluctant to clap his hands. Sienar Fleet’s promo video of their new weapon of mass destruction lands wrong in his stomach. Better technology doesn’t equal a quicker end of Rebel scum, and combining the beauty of the cosmos with a bringer of death makes him feel uncomfortable. 

The reason he’s here is not to applaud all the new advancements. He has something different in mind. The announcement of new TIE Fighter variants and other technology feels like a show to him. It’s just to encourage the investors of the Imperial war industry. Kirbley is here to ensure the soldiers won’t stay behind. The troopers are mostly overlooked while they matter the most, and his Night Force project ensures the soldiers of the Empire are looked after.

At the end of the conference, Kirbley walks into a large hallway. Large chandeliers made from the most shiny crystals hang down from the high ceiling. It feels like the palace of a royalty as Kirbley wanders through the officers. The hallway is filled with the mumbling of Imperials as they talk with each other about military development. Contractors all around them humbly, yet intrusively chase new contracts with anyone interested in their services. Luckily, they’re not searching for him and Kirbley feels grateful to be left alone by them.

Walking around, Kirbley glances over the officers, noticing admirals, generals, and other high-ranked Imperials walking around and chatting with each other. Eye-blinding droids walk around with drinks on trays they hold, offering Imperials refreshing hooch to wind down from the heavy talks.

Seeing all the high-ranking officers making themselves comfortable aboard this space station makes Kirbley feel a bit uneasy, as if they all look down on him. Even when he’s the man in charge of the prestigious Night Force project, he still holds no rank. He is still a civilian psychologist who got entangled in the Imperial war machine by his father and got too far to go back. He might be the man in the lead, but not the man with any military prestige. Kirbley feels like he’s the odd one out here and not knowing what all of the Imperials around him think of him makes his heart pound in his chest. Perhaps they might even dislike him. A civilian scientist rushing in to fix the problems the ‘stupid’ have created; it might land wrong.

Kirbley is pulled out of his thoughts as Carter catches up with him.

“I’m back,” says Carter with a sigh of unease. “Dank Ferrik, those KDY contractors are a pain in the ass to evade.”

“Yeah, I can imagine,” Kirbley responds shifting his head to him. I didn’t expect anything else from contractors.

His thoughts quickly drift away as he walks amidst the crowd of Imperial officers. They’re all higher than he is, and the discomfort continues to rise in his chest, making his heart pound and his breath shudder a little.

Carter glances at him and notices the discomfort brewing within him.

“You’re feeling uneasy again?” he asks.

Kirbley nods. “Yeah. I can feel them looking down on me, it’s-, gnawing on my nerves.”

A shiny protocol droid passes them with a tray of strong alcohol and Carter grasps a glass and hands it to Kirbley.

“Here, a glass of hooch,” he says. “That will cool the nerves. We have a meeting with High Command right now and you might have to account for the performance of Night Force.”

So he’s definitely going to need it. Kirbley takes the glass from Carter’s hand and drinks all of it up with a single sip. He feels it burn below his eyes until it slowly fades away and starts playing out its effect. The feeling of being looked down upon diminishes a little until he can neglect it.

“Alright. Let’s see what they have to say,” says Kirbley with a more calming town and he puts the glass on the empty tray of another droid.

“Good,” Carter responds. “I’ll do the formalities.”

“Got it, I’ll stay back.”

With a quick pace, Kirbley follows Carter around the military personnel until he sees a group of three highly-ranked officers standing in the middle of the hallway. He can sense their authority like radiation and he can feel it playing with his nerves. As they approach them, the officers shift their glance.

“Admiral Carter,” says one officer in a grey, tight suit. 

Carter shakes his hand. “Good evening, Admiral.”

Kirbley shakes his hand too.

“Doctor Kirbley,” he introduces himself and does the same with the other High Command officers. Admiral Piett, Vice Admiral Rae Sloane, and some colonel of Imperial Intelligence.

And after that, Kirbley stands back and lets Carter do the formalities. However, his thoughts drift away. Admiral Piett and Vice Admiral Rae Sloane are pretty big names with Piett being the second-in-command officer of Lord Vader, but the one he expected to see, General Veers, isn’t here, and Kirbley wonders why. He’s the one he closed the deal with the Army with that started the Night Force project and he thought he’d needed to see him. Apparently, it’s hardly necessary, and instead of accounting for Night Force, Kirbley stands behind the sidelines and listens. Rebel Alliance is growing, whatever is happening on Endor, Death Squadron, this, that, yadda - everything is escaping his mind as quickly as his ears pick them up.

Suddenly, a man on a hoverchair joins the group. A protocol droid pushes him and as Kirbley’s eyes land on his face, his heart skips a beat. It’s General Veers, the man responsible for the whole Imperial Army. The last time he had seen him he could walk, and now, he’s pushed in a hoverchair, seemingly unable to use his legs. His sudden handicap makes a cold shiver run down Kirbley’s spine.

“Greetings, Doctor Kirbley,” greets Veers, and he shakes his hand. “Apologies for being late. Can I speak with you in private?”

“Yes-, yes, of course, General,” stammers Kirbley a little.

General Veers and Kirbley leave the group. His hoverchair hums a little as the droid pushes it gently forward and Kirbley follows him. His eyes keep drifting to his legs, and they’re covered in metal wrap. Did he lose his legs? The question of what happened gnaws on him and he feels his heart racing in his chest as he opens his mouth.

“I am sorry for asking, but what happened that made you unable to walk?” Kirbley asks.

The General lets out a sigh. “I broke my legs during an assault on a Rebel base on Hoth. A snowspeeder crashed into the walker I was commanding and left me for dead on that damned snow planet.”

Left for dead on a snow planet? Yikes.

Crawling out of the wreckage through the snow with no legs to move makes a cold shiver run down his spine, and imagining it, Kirbley’s lungs shudder with distress. 

“That is horrible,” Kirbley remarks. “You were lucky to have survived that on a snow planet.”

General Veers shakes his head. “I don’t believe in luck. I believe in skill and I had some very good medics who patched me up.”

He rubs his neck with unease. If it wasn’t for his skilled men, Kirbley would’ve had to talk with a whole different person replacing the General, and he feels grateful that Veers survived the horrible injuries he sustained. And on a snow planet even? That raises Kirbley’s eyebrows even more. Such horrible injuries on a snow planet mostly equal immediate death.

“Doctor Kirbley, I have taken you privately to discuss the future of the Night Force project,” says Veers. 

Kirbley’s heart speeds up with nervousness. He can feel the heavy discussion that’s coming.

“First of all, I congratulate the success of the project,” starts Veers. “I have to say that the first results are very promising. What do you think about it yourself?”

“Me?” Kirbley asks, bewildered. He did not expect the conversation to start with a positive view of the project. “It’s promising indeed. The cadets we are training are far more capable than the regular Academy cadets. We’ve been observing them for quite a while during anti-Rebel intelligence operations and they are better at adapting to twists in events and the technology they need. But, I am reluctant. Though this project is promising, it is fragile and the path our cadets take is sometimes completely random. Even though they fight Rebels, they are pretty much rebels themselves.”

One girl, in particular, proved that, and Kirbley can remember how much the situation made his nerves burn with nervousness when Eva Young went AWOL and took a boy hostage for information just to hunt down her biggest enemy.

“I have to be careful about what we do with Night Force,” adds Kirbley. “Young teenagers such as our cadets are easy to change, for the better or the worse.”

General Veers nods. “Being careful does not apply only to you and the Night Force project. I am not sure if you have been following the war effort, but our grip on the Rebel Alliance is growing thinner each day now that more systems are joining their cause. What was first a rebel cell on a few worlds has now grown to a presence of hope on a galactic scale. They are more flexible and experienced than ever. We are no longer fighting against freedom fighters. We are fighting against generals and admirals with as much experience as us, and our forces cannot take them all.”

“Just like my father told me,” Kirbley responds. “The war has always been spiralling out of control since the explosion of the Death Star.”

“It’s a dark nightmare we have to light our way back from,” says Veers, letting out a deep sigh. “We have to get out of it, and yesterday, I was informed that Mon Cala is resisting our authority. They are very skilled warriors and we fear they might join the cause of the Rebel Alliance. The war is not just escalating, it’s escalating towards the big battlefields where our infantry forces are no longer sufficient. We need skilled troopers on the battlefields and I am hoping Night Force will deliver them.”

“Of course it will, General. The purpose of Night Force is to develop more skilled cadets that become better soldiers in their adulthood.”

“From our analysis, the cadets the Night Force project is developing are more directed towards security and anti-intelligence operations, the fight against spies and Rebel operations that undermine our society. I need better troopers on the battlefields. Take Hoth. Our main objective was to capture a single Rebel and our secondary was to capture all of his Rebel colleagues. We left Hoth with a Rebel Alliance that is still standing as of today and it has even grown larger. None of our objectives were reached, and though we assume it to be a serious setback for them, our soldiers failed to deal the real blow.”

Kirbley lets out a sigh. “Night Force needs to train its soldiers for the harsh battlefields instead of the streets.”

“That is my vision indeed. Night Force needs to up its game. The desolate battlefields are where the war is decided, not the cities.”

Kirbley shakes his head. “General, with all due respect, I’m not sure if I can do that. Training them to fight on the battlefield is pretty much an experiment itself.”

His hoverchair stops and Veers looks at Kirbley with cold, stern eyes. “Imperial High Command has made that decision, Doctor. If you are incapable of doing what we expect from you, we are obliged to find someone else who is more fitting. And I know that the Imperial Weapons Division is not the organisation you want leading the Night Force project.”

Dank Ferrik. You’ve got to be kidding me.

Kirbley looks away into oblivion. Night Force is not just any experiment. It’s an experiment with children. It’s fragile and needs to be taken with care, something the Imperial Weapons Division wouldn’t do. Even if their scientists know everything about kyber crystals, tractor beams, and celestial powers, they have no idea how to treat children with care. All they care about is firepower and advancement at the cost of mental well-being. And now that he’s threatened to be replaced by one of their directors, Kirbley feels forced to take General Veers’ orders and comply. And the General is right in a way. Kirbley started Night Force because Stormtroopers could no longer secure Naval sites against Rebel commandos. That goal gradually changed to anti-intelligence operations, and now it’s an all-out war on the largest, most muddy battlefields.

The Night Force project needs to upgrade its training. If the war is ever to be won, Kirbley has to, and as General Veers is driven away by the protocol droid, he is left alone with fear running down his spine. Now that Night Force is taken in an abrupt direction towards the battlefield, the cadets will experience more weight to handle. They’ve handled already a lot thanks to the intensive training schedule of Night Force, but Kirbley doesn’t know what surprises the path might hold. 

Soon, Night Force will enter the next stage, and its cadets won’t be spared from its intense side effects. 

***

“Firewalls are a headache to get around.”

Peyton looks up from her datapad and Eva nods.

“A firewall’s primary function is to monitor every bit of data that’s coming from an external source. It controls how much data is coming through and what kind of data,” she explains. “A firewall has a set of criteria a package of data must meet to get through. Something that doesn’t meet its standards is suspicious, and the firewall will keep it out of the system.”

Sitting on the stiff mattress of Peyton’s bed with her legs crossed, Eva listens closely to what she’s explaining to her. After she came back, wounded from her daring mission, Peyton had a broken friendship to fix. She promised Eva she’d teach her the basics of slicing. And ever since, Eva’s been showing up at her bed every few nights. However, Peyton’s words turn quickly into disarray and Eva can’t follow her anymore as it all becomes vague.

“Firewalls are supposed to be tight but-,”

“Okay, hold up,” Eva interrupts.

Peyton stops and looks up at her.

“I can’t follow you anymore,” says Eva. “All I’m hearing is Gonk droid noise.”

Peyton smiles a little, recognising her enthusiasm for the technology overtook her a little. She nods and gazes into oblivion, trying to think of a way to explain it differently.

“The Star Destroyers guarding Coruscant kind of do the same thing,” she starts. “They let starships in when they see they’re harmless, and block people when they don’t fulfil the security criteria. Those starships might be smugglers or Rebels trying to get into the system. Firewalls do the same, they’re the gatekeepers of a system that let harmless people in and protect it from people like-, well, me.”

Peyton smiles a little and Eva too.

“How easy will it be?” Eva asks.

Peyton shrugs. “Depends on the type of system you’re trying to get into. The lock of a blast door is pretty easy to overcome, but anything above that gets trickier to fool.”

Eva nods. “I’ll try.” 

And with that, Peyton taps on her datapad and the blast door of the barrack slides shut and makes a metallic click, and she hands the datapad to Eva. Codes of Binary appear on her screen and she starts breaking the lock of the blast door. She spits through code and finds some lines that draw her attention. They are linked to the security mechanism of the blast door. Eva starts digging, but for a moment, something else gets to her mind. 

The soft words of Tal that calmed her, the shockwaves that shook the building while she was chained, Eline’s hand she held when she could no longer walk, the blaster she held Lu at gunsight with - 2 months have passed ever since. She can remember everything, clear as day and since then, her mind has changed. The portrayal of Rebels as demonic, heartless monsters has been wrong all the time. She thought they were. She thought Rebels were monsters, but Eva learned it’s not always the case. Tal and Lu were people who proved her otherwise, and it made her learn that not everything she’s told is to be believed. As the digits on the screen flash by, a question arises. She still holds the Empire dearly. It’s the only world she’s ever known, but the Empire she loved isn’t as perfect as she once thought it was. It’s flawed and exactly as her father once told her; they lie whenever it’s necessary.

Military ads? Glorified. Mission details? Too optimistic. Events? Covered up. Though Eva still loves the Empire she serves, it’s not what she was told it was. She glances at Peyton, looking at her screen.

“Peyton, why do you believe in the Empire?” she asks.

Peyton looks up with confusion in her eyes. “Sorry?”

“Why do you believe in the Empire?” Eva repeats.

Peyton shrugs “Why? Why the question?”

Eva shakes her head a little. “Just a thought.”

Peyton sighs. “Well, I believe the New Order is good because it doesn’t run after what’s happening. Democracy and diplomacy slow everything down. Sometimes we need immediate action, and we can’t do that when 2000 senators negotiate with their own views of things. How are we supposed to solve problems with so many diplomats from systems that were free to do their own things? We can’t. We can’t rule like that. I think we have to take away the free will of systems so we can rule the galaxy from one location with one direction. 2000 senators grumbling about things they don’t like takes an eternity to result in something. Without them, we can act so much quicker, and that’s why I believe in it.”

Eva nods. “And that’s why you fight for it?”

Peyton nods. 

“Would you understand why others disagree with us?”

Peyton shakes her head. “I’m not sure. Never met a Rebel in my life.”

Now that she knows how Peyton thinks about what they fight for, Eva feels like she needs a break, a moment to reflect, so with an excuse of needing to take a leak, she bails out. Eva walks out of the barracks and through the empty corridors of the Academy and she finds space to reflect.

You’re fighting because it works. It’s not as slow as the Republic. That makes sense. I fight because it’s the only kind of justice they deserve, but the people we’re fighting, are they really that horrible? Not all of them are that bad. Am I the only one thinking this?

At the commbooth of the Academy at the far end of the building, Eva inserts her chaincode digits into the machine. The screen flickers and sees she has a missed call. It’s the voicemail of someone with a chaincode registered on Coruscant according to the last four digits, and Eva plays out the message. In front of her, a hologram flickers on and the figure of a girl appears. The speakers crackle a little.

“Hey, Eva,” she sighs.

It’s Oliva and for a brief moment, her heart starts shining a little. Even if it’s a small, blue hologram, the curly hair is still as recognisable as ever. 

“It’s been a while.”

2 months, is it not? Time’s quick.

“I’m here at my new home on Coruscant with my dad,” Oliva’s voice crackles. “We’re lucky it’s at a somewhat higher level. Down there it’s just pure hell.”

Eva nods. The lower levels of Coruscant have always been pure, concrete hell with combustion gasses coming from the upper levels poisoning the people living there. She knows from news channels on the HoloNet how hard it can be to live there. It’s a pure hellscape down there, and Eva continues to listen.

“It’s not that bad up here,” Oliva continues. “The home’s not big but it fits, we don’t need much.”

Suddenly, Eva hears the turmoil brewing behind Oliva’s voice. It sounded hopeful at first but now it’s quickly turning into disarray as Oliva lets out a shuddering sigh.

“But I miss you and mom so much,” her voice trembles. “Dad says it’s just because of the move, but I don’t know. It feels like a void I can’t shake off. I just miss the old times so much. Remember Steel Crane Plaza and the market?”

That was so fun to sell the corn with you.

Eva feels it coming and sheds a tear as she recalls the memory. 

Oliva chuckles a little. “That was fun. But it feels so far away now that I’m here on Coruscant. Everything here is just concrete and concrete and metal and metal. There’s nothing here that looks the same as Vaulent 6. But at least Coruscant doesn’t remind me of the nightmare. I can’t imagine getting back there, it’s a place that haunts me.”

With a shivering voice that’s on the edge of breaking down into tears, Oliva signs off. “I miss you, Eva. I couldn’t call you, so call me back when you can so we can catch up a little. Love you.”

The voicemail ends and the hologram of Oliva vanishes, leaving Eva with an empty, aching spot in her heart. Oliva still doesn’t know it, and ever since she left, Eva had to choke in her words. Only she knows what truly happened to Oliva’s mother but she’s forced by the ISB to keep it a secret. It feels agonising to keep the truth hidden from her best friend, but Eva has to. Good soldiers follow orders.

Even if Lu did so much wrong, she’s still a mother that cared about her daughter. It proved to Eva that not all Rebels are heartless terrorists with the sole purpose of destroying her world. They’re people like the ones she knows. They’re exactly like the people she protects with the only difference being the side they serve. Rebel or not, Lu was a loving mother, and Eva feels like it’s going directly against her beliefs and what she was taught. And no one in the whole Imperial military shares the same belief she has now. She’s the only one who believes the Rebels aren’t as demonic as the Empire wants her to believe they are. Not even her squad members think the same as her. She feels like the odd one out here and it starts gnawing on her.

Then, she hears something in the far distance. It sounds like a familiar voice but Eva can’t place it. She looks away from the commbooth and gazes towards where it came from. She hears some giggles echoing through the corridor and intrigued, Eva walks towards the source. As she quietly walks towards where the soft giggles came from, she hears the familiar voice again, and this time she recognises it.

“Yeah, I’ll be there.”

It’s Ashara. Her soft, Pantoran voice echoes through the corridor until it vanishes and Eva is left with questions. She tries to look for her, but as Eva ventures further through the empty corridors, she can’t find her anywhere as if she vanished into thin air. Who was Ashara talking to? Where will she be? Eva wonders what that’s all about.

That night as the Academy closes down and turns off its lights, Eva is lying in her bed. The mattress feels hard, yet comfortable enough and she’s on the edge of dozing off. Then, she hears something. Her ears pick up a shuffling noise, followed by nearly silent thuds on the metal floor until it’s all ended by the blast door opening and closing. Eva opens her eyes. Who was that?

She rolls around and her eyes dart around the barracks. Roslin sleeps. Ecklund sleeps. Peyton sleeps. Ashara… her bed is empty. The pillow is left behind and the bedsheet is hanging down, nearly falling onto the floor. She remembers what Ashara said in the empty corridors of the Academy, yeah, I’ll be there.

Those words linger in her mind and now that Ashara is gone from her bed raises the questions again. Why is she gone? Why did she say she’ll be there, wherever that might be? She could just be taking a leak. It can happen, but what did she mean in the corridor, and to whom did she say it? It could be a group assignment she has to do for her medical classes, but Eva doubts it. It can’t be this late in the night. 

Suddenly, one thought hits her. Ashara could be a spy, a Rebel. It’s the only answer she can come up with. She’s learned the hard way that even the most inconspicuous people can shove a dagger deep into her heart. Lu did. Ashara could . And now that that thought is starting to burn in her mind, Eva can’t close her eyes anymore. 

Quietly, Eva jumps out of her bed now that her heart is pounding nervously in her chest. She has to find her. 

Stepping into the silence of the corridor, Eva looks in both directions. Ashara is nowhere. Dank Ferrik, where did she go?

Eva walks further, but the Academy is gigantic. There are so many storages, hallways, rooms and everything in between. She won’t be able to find Ashara in this labyrinth of corridors. Eva lost her, and now that she suspects her friend and squad member of possible rebellion, she walks back to her barracks and is unable to rest. 

Ashara, what are you up to?

Chapter Text

Once again, the floor drops into the abyss. Eva looks up as she is lowered into The Well for another game. She feels light in her stomach; the usual feeling of dropping down into the pit, but she has experienced this so much already that the sensation only feels funny and negligible. While she waits for The Well to reach its lowest point, Eva remembers yesterday, when Ashara bailed out of the barracks in the middle of the night. She still wonders what she was doing and the question still lingers in her mind, but she tries to shove it aside. It’s training time and she has to focus on herself. Aside from her squad, there’s another one going down into The Well with her. Their helmets mask their faces, but Eva can hear they’re boys. That’s something new. She always competed against other girl squads. This is a first, but it shouldn’t be any different. The rules, the strategy - everything remains the same.

Eva joins the squad and stands in a circle with her squad members as they prepare to climb The Well: Roslin, Peyton, Ashara, Ecklund, and her.

Roslin shifts her head to Peyton who immediately responds.

“54,” Peyton replies.

Roslin nods. “54 times. Last time, we did very well.”

Eva chuckles. “We aced it.”

“Yeah, we did great,” Roslin smiles. “I see we’re fighting against a boy’s squad this time, so that’s new. Might feel different but they’re the same as any other squad we’ve fought against; just a challenge, got it?”

“Yes sir.”

Roslin reaches out for the center of the circle with her hand for a group huddle, and Eva and the squad follow.

“Challenges are our breakfast meals,” Peyton smirks.

Eva and the others chuckle as she feels her heart speeding up in her chest with excitement to fight the enemy squad in The Well. Let’s show them.

“For the Empire!” Roslin chants. 

“FOR THE EMPIRE!”

Eva turns around and looks up, ready to climb The Well. It’s all about the Top 3 now. Winners have a day off, the losers are taken hostage by a stack of hard drives to carry around. It’s a boring task she doesn’t want to do. But even when she tries to clear her mind to fight the competition, her thoughts keep drifting away to yesterday night. The question of why Ashara left the barracks and earlier said she’d be there wherever she needed to be, remains in her mind. And the thought of her being a Rebel sneaking away to pass through intel keeps gnawing at her. It’s a burning suspicion she can’t believe to be true but can’t shove aside either. In the corner of her eye, she sees Ashara gazing at the boy’s squad who intensively discuss their game plan as if their lives depended on it.

“Hey, Ashara,” Eva reaches out.

Ashara shifts her head to her.

“Hey, uhm-, I heard you last night. What were you doing?”

Ashara shakes her head a little.

“I-, I just had to take a leak,” she stammers. “Sorry that I woke you up.”

Then to whom did you have to come?

Her helmet masks her face, but Eva can hear from the stutter at the beginning and the pronunciation of her words that something isn’t right. She can hear she’s hiding something. Her suspicions of Ashara being a Rebel in disguise creep in on her. The thought in the back of her mind grows and Eva can’t keep it in.

Suddenly, a screech echoes through The Well. It’s the go-sign cutting her off, and Ashara and the rest run off before Eva can ask further. She shoves away her thoughts and runs off too. Platforms move out of the walls and hover past and over her. The game is on.

Eva jumps onto a platform and starts climbing to the top. All that counts now is herself and the winning 3. She looks up and sees no one has reached the top yet. Everyone is still making their way up. Suddenly, as Eva moves upwards, a cadet of the boy’s squad jumps onto her platform. It shakes a little and Eva shifts her head to him as the boy stabilises himself and gazes back at her.

“Hey, aren’t you Eva?” he asks bewildered.

He probably noticed her name and that of Eline written on her helmet.

She clenches her jaws. “Yeah, I am.”

“You’re the one they say is the best Rebel scum killer at the Academy, right?”

Eva lets out a sigh. You’re serious? 

“I heard you took the most dangerous Rebel on Vaulent 6 by yourself. It’s impressive,” he remarks. 

She rolls her eyes. “Thanks.”

“You must be pretty good if you neutralised so many Rebel hounds by yourself.”

Now’s not the time to flirt, sleemo.

Eva misses a platform that’s rising to the top. She smirks with annoyance growing in her chest as she looks around for another way up to the top. The boy is distracting her way too much and she clenches her fists with frustration.

“So, you’re jealous now?” she asks, searching around.

“No, I mean it,” smirks the boy. “The best Rebel scum killer - it’s a badass title you hold. How did you even achieve that?”

The frustration bursts and Eva clenches her jaws.

“My god,” she whispers, and she steps towards the boy with the frustration growing in her chest.

“I achieved it by focusing on my training,” she hisses. “It’s ingenious, you should try it too.”

“Right, right. I’ll focus,” the boy smirks. “I’m Kuma by the way. VSRC012.”

The urge to escape from the boy’s fantasy rises in her chest and she looks away, too frustrated to answer. There, she sees another platform moving sideways into position. That’s her way out. Without warning, Eva jumps off and onto the platform and moves away from the boy. 

“Wait, Eva!” the boy shouts. 

“Shut up!” Eva shouts back.

Focus on your blasted training.

The gap grows larger between them and it feels like a weight lifts from her shoulders. She will no longer be distracted and can finally focus again on what she’s tasked to do.

So long, fierfek.

Leaving him behind, Eva climbs further up The Well until she makes it to the top. With both hands clenching the grips, Eva climbs over the edge with burning hands. She swings her legs over the edge first before the rest of her body and pushes herself up from the floor. She crossed the finish line, but Eva gazes around and sees she missed the Top 3. She crossed the finish line as 5th and Eva clenches her jaws with frustration. 

“Blast it,” she whispers.

That nerfherder slowed me down. Kriffin’ hell.

As all the other cadets reach the top and finish The Well, the Taskmaster walks up with his arms crossed tightly behind his back. 

“Cadets of VSRC006 and 012, the performance you have all shown is very impressive,” he says. “However, an essential of warfare is locking out any distraction that can draw your attention away.” 

Eva sighs with frustration. She had no doubts that the boy had an interest in her, and she allowed herself to get distracted by it. The frustration rises all the more in her chest and she looks in the corner of her eye. She can barely see the boy who caused her to lose the match. He may have had no ill intentions, but the outcome was anything but. Behind her visor, she narrows her eyes with frustration. Thanks for the loss, dickhead.

The Taskmaster glances over the cadets standing in perfect line.

“It’s a skill that cannot be learned in an instant. That’s the advice I’m giving you. That’s what you should focus on,” he says, his voice echoing through the facility. “Cadets Somen, Daxan, and Ecklund, congratulations on your victory. For the rest, report to your ACY at the Trooper Armament Bay for duty. Squads, dismissed!”

“Sir yes sir!” the cadets chant. 

After dismissal, the cadets of both squads disperse away from The Well, and Eva walks away too to head to the Trooper Armament Bay. She doesn’t want to, but she accepts she lost. It’s better to move forward than to be stuck in the past. Hopefully, she forgets the boy and what happened down The Well in an instant once she holds the heavy hard drives.

Then, she sees Roslin staring into oblivion with disappointment in her eyes, and Eva is struck with surprise. It seems like she lost. That’s new. Eva may hold the most badass title, but Roslin holds the most victories of the squad. She’s the one who won The Well most of the time and is seen as the most prestigious by Academy Command. Seeing her with the disappointment in her gaze into oblivion surprises her and she stops in her tracks.

“Roslin, you lost too?” Eva asks.

Roslin breaks her stare. “Yeah, I went through my ankle. You?”

Eva pulls off her helmet and holds it below her armpit. She scoffs with narrowed eyes. “Sleemo tried to flirt with me.”

Roslin chuckles. “That’s an annoying way to lose.”

Eva sighs. Yeah, kriff you. Now I have to do labour because of you.

Walking through the corridors, Eva and Roslin are on their way to the Trooper Armament Bay to report for duty. Thinking back, Eva still can’t believe she let herself get distracted by the fantasy of a boy. Maybe he wasn’t trying to, but his chatter amidst an important part of her training was annoying. It drew her away from what mattered, and she lost the game because of it.

“Hey, ACY. Reporting for duty.”

Roslin walks up front as they enter the Trooper Armament Bay and approach ACY-4 standing behind a counter. The shiny droid looks up from a stack of data cards on the desk and seeing the squad’s droid again makes Eva smile. 

“Hi, Acy,” Eva greets.

“Hello, girls,” ACY greets. “I see the match did not go as expected.”

“You can say that again,” Eva responds.

Roslin smirks. “Yeah, we’re taking the loss, so how many hard drives do we have to carry now?”

“It will surprise you, but none,” ACY responds with a nod. “Trooper Armament Bay has no hard drives for you to carry at the moment.”

What are those hard drives doing on your desk then? Eva doesn’t ask as ACY continues.

“Academy Command has issued a trip to Steel Crane Plaza for field training,” says ACY. 

“Field training?” Roslin asks, bewildered. 

“Correct,” ACY responds. “It’s an assignment given by the Capital Police Department as part of your training.”

“What are we going to do at Steel Crane Plaza?” Eva asks.

“You will hear your mission details from the CPD’s chief commissioner on site,” says ACY. “Your transport is standing by in Hangar 7B. They will bring you to Steel Crane Plaza. Good luck with the mission.”

Roslin nods. “Alright, we’ll be on our way.”

“Thanks, Acy,” Eva smiles. 

In the hangar, Eva boards the ITT and later, after a trip through downtown Capital, the troop transporter comes to a halt and she grasps her blaster from the bench. She figures she won’t need her helmet. It’s just a day at the market of Steel Crane Plaza, so Eva leaves it behind in the cabin. The door swings open and Eva steps out, following her commander onto the pavement of the plaza. The sun shines brightly through the clouds of the spring season and the trees along the sidewalks are slowly getting their green leaves back. The old Steel Crane is towering over the market stalls, drawing a long shadow over the crowd of visitors. Before the plaza begins, the chief commissioner of the Capital Police Department stands on the sidewalk with some of his officers. Unlike the Stormtroopers of the garrison, they dress in metal grey jumpsuits and ocean blue armour plates on the chest. The golden Aetherwing eagle symbol twinkles on his chest plate like a little star and around his utility belt hangs a black blaster pistol, a comlink, and an electrobaton, ready to stun troublemakers. 

Roslin shakes the commissioner’s hand. “Commander Roslin Verin reporting for duty.”

“Greetings,” says the man with a smile.

After shaking his hand too Eva stands back and crosses her arms behind her back. She let’s Roslin do all the formalities, and with patience, she listens to the chief commissioner.

“This little field training is just to get to know about the basics of patrol in civil areas,” he starts. “You’ll need it during your Stormtrooper training if you’ll take that path, so a little foundation of the basics can be helpful later on. That’s why we’re giving this little training to you.”

While the chief commissioner tells some of his experiences, particularly one during the Rebel air strike, Eva’s eyes constantly draw away to the market stalls of the plaza. It’s been months since she was here the last time and looking back, the memory of Oliva’s market stall warms up her heart with fondness. It was a time of much simpler things and Eva misses it.

At the end of the chief commissioner’s talks, Eva and Roslin walk through the market stalls. She glances over all the people visiting them, stopping by the vendors and buying the stuff they need. She’s supposed to be on patrol, but she can’t stop thinking back. The memories return. She helped her best friend sell all the corn she had and made a fortune out of it. It was fun and it makes a thin smile form on Eva’s face. However, the fond memories of Oliva give back a sour aftertaste, left behind by the moment her world finally shattered and her smile vanishes. Even when the fond memories rush back, the dagger of Lu in her back burns among them. And still, she can tell no one about it. Not even to Oliva. Whatever really happened to her mother is still covered up. She can’t help but think back.

Roslin notices her glassy gaze, seemingly distant from her duty. “Hey, something’s on your mind?”

Eva breaks her gaze and glances at Roslin. She sighs.

“I had a friend who was always here at Market Day,” says Eva. “She had her own stall and sold the crops her dad farmed.”

She smirks with a smile as she recalls the memory. “You touch it, you buy it. On occasions, I helped out and together we sold so much.”

Roslin nods as she listens with intrigue. “Sounds like she meant a lot to you.”

Eva almost sheds a tear but she manages to hold it in. “Yeah. She did.”

She leaves a stretch of silence behind and Roslin can sense something happened.

“Where is she now?” Roslin asks.

Eva swallows heavily with unease. “Her mother-, died in a speeder crash a couple of months ago. She moved away from Vaulent 6 and doesn’t want to return to this damned place-,”

And she stops in her words and wraps her arms around herself with pain in her heart. It feels agonising to be tied to a conspiracy at the cost of the truth. No one, except for a few, knows that Oliva’s mom hadn’t crashed. She was arrested by Eva herself, but even when she was her best friend, she had no other choice. She still has no other choice than to accept what must be done, and though she chokes in her words about what really happened, it torments her with agony. She has to comply and accept the fabricated reality, and with pain, she withholds the truth from anyone and keeps the burden for herself. 

Roslin nods. “That’s horrible. I’m sorry about what happened.”

Eva glances at her commander. “I’ve grown to accept it. I’m doing fine.”

Her eyes drift away, and as she glances over the filled market stalls with visitors seeking to buy cheap fruit and vegetables, Eva starts longing for the good old times. The time when everything was still so innocent is gone and she misses it. 

Then, her eyes land on a familiar face among the market stalls. She squints her eyes and recognises the man as she walks past his stall and stops in her tracks.

“Mr. Dane?” she asks, bewildered.

The man behind the stall looks up with his eyes behind his old glasses. It’s an elderly man with grey hair and a dusty sweater he’s probably been wearing for 30-plus years. As his old eyes see her, a smile forms on his face and his cheeks rimple. 

“Miss Eva,” he says with a frail voice. “That’s been a long time.”

Eva chuckles a little and nods. It’s a face she hasn’t seen in a very long time. “How long? 5 years or something?”

The old man nods. “6 years. I did not expect to see you around here after so long, and I see you’ve become a cadet in the meantime.”

“Yeah. I’ve been a junior cadet at the Academy for almost a year now. I’m here at a field exercise as part of my training,” Eva responds. 

Mr Dane nods and his eyes shift to Roslin who stops by Eva’s shoulder.

“And what is your name, mistress?” he asks, humbly, reaching out his hand.

Roslin shakes his hand. “I’m Roslin. I’m Eva’s squad commander.”

Mr Dane shifts his eyes to Eva, seemingly confused about what Roslin means, and Eva leans forward immediately.

“She’s my boss,” Eva responds.

He nods as he starts understanding it. “Oh right, your boss. Is she giving you enough days off or good bonuses?”

Eva chuckles and glances at Roslin standing next to her. There have been some days off that Roslin gave her, but never did she get bonuses. Though Eva has no idea what kind of bonus she could be given, she looks with narrowing eyes at Roslin. Her commander gazes back and she smirks as she jabs her elbow into Eva’s side. Yeah, of course I’m not getting any bonus as a soldier. 

Eva chuckles. “I’m joking.”

She looks down at the table on which Mr Dane is displaying his stuff. It’s antique, old equipment that are thousands of years old. One item in particular attracts her attention like a butterfly. It’s a helmet that looks so weathered she doesn’t dare even touch it. 

“Anyway, what are you selling?” Eva asks.

“Not selling,” Mr Dane snaps with a pointing finger. “I’m lecturing.”

“Yeah, right, you’re lecturing. Then what are you lecturing about?”

Mr Dane notices Eva’s eyes being fixated on the helmet and the man leans a bit forward towards it.

“That, my young lady, is a war helmet of the Rakatan Infinite Empire. Presumably that of a field commander.”

Eva blushes a little at being called a young lady, and she looks up with curiosity growing. “The Infinite Empire?”

Mr Dane hums with a nod.

“It was a regime so powerful it enslaved almost every species it came across,” he explains. “They had a special, celestial power that was so powerful, it could move objects without physical contact. The Rakatan Empire used this power to travel across the galaxy and change worlds forever.”

Eva nods with intrigue. “Sounds familiar.”

Mr Dane smirks with a cackle. “30 millennia ago, the Infinite Empire stood for over 10.000 years. Our Empire hasn’t even been standing for three decades yet.”

10 millennia? Then we have a lot to do to break that number. With her eyes fixated on the old war helmet, her amazement about the galactic history peaks. An empire that stood for over 10.000 years is not a joke by far. It’s a huge accomplishment for such an ancient empire. Only the Republic accomplished a longer time of rulership until it fell and let her beloved Empire rise out of its ashes. Eva feels sure the Empire will surpass the rulership of both the Republic and the Infinite Empire, and it’s her task to keep it standing. 

“I have something else in the back that’s interesting, let me get it for you,” says Mr Dane, and he walks away to the back of the stall.

As Mr Dane disappears behind a piece of cloth functioning as a door, Roslin leans a bit toward her. “Where the hell do you know that old dinosaur from?”

Eva chuckles.

“Mr Dane was my history teacher before he took retirement,” she responds, glancing at her. “He was fascinated by old empires.”

Roslin nods. “Where does he get all of this from?”

“Before he got to work at my school, he worked at a museum of the Galactic Society of Historians on Chandrilla. He was trusted to take some ancient stuff with him to teach people about history.”

Glancing back at the ancient items Mr Dane has spread out over the tablecloth, Eva thinks back to the old times of school. Mr Dane was so excited about ancient empires that he couldn’t stop talking about them. Even when his classes crawled closer to their ends, Mr Dane used every second he had to talk. Every bit of time he had was precious to him because every second, history mattered . He knew what he was talking about, and even when the history of the Republic bored her out, his knowledge of empires always caught her attention in some way or another. It was because she felt their details were familiar. They shared a world that sounded almost the same as the Empire she loved and now serves. The fond memories she recalls make a smile form on her face as she glances at items spread across the table.

Suddenly, Eva hears a frail scream erupting from behind the market stall and a thud on the pavement. Her eyes dart to the back of the stall and she leans forward. Did he stumble?

“Mr Dane, are you alright?” Eva asks, concerned.

For old people, as little as a stumble can be fatal, but no answer. Eva and Roslin glance at each other and immediately, Eva walks around the table to the back of the old man’s market stall. She lifts the cloth up and there, she sees Mr Dane lying on the pavement grasping his knee. His old glasses lie on the pavement. He instantly looks up with shuddering lungs, gasping for air.

“A man robbed me!” Mr Dane shouts. 

Dank Ferrik.

Eva drops herself immediately to the ground. “Where did he go?”

“He went that way!” and he points in a direction with a shaking hand.

Instantly, Eva stands up and runs out of the market stall through the back.

“Eva,” Roslin nearly shouts. “I’ll stay with him.”

“Copy, commander!”

She runs further and stumbles into an alley between market stalls. She looks in both directions, but all she sees is a wall of visitors walking, talking, and carrying bags. Her heart starts pounding in her chest as her eyes dart around, trying to find a glimpse of the robber.

Blast it, where did he go?

A gap forms in the crowd, and in the distance, Eva sees a man fleeing from the plaza. It’s him, she has no doubt it’s him. No one runs away from a market like that. Eva speeds up and runs through the alley, dashing past the people until she arrives at the border of the plaza. She looks around and sees the robber crossing the street and running behind speeders parked along the sidewalk. Eva speeds up.

“Hey, stop there!” she shouts. 

Then, as she approaches the parked speeders, the robber lashes out a pistol and opens fire. Eva drops herself and takes cover behind the speeder. The sparks fly off the speeder as the thief hits it. Eva raises from her cover, aims her blaster and runs past the other parked speeders, trying to catch up with him. Her crosshair lands on the robber and shoots, but within a second, the robber turns around the corner of a building and she misses him. Eva runs further and turns around the corner. The robber runs over the sidewalk and Eva notices he’s hiding something in his jacket. 

Eva raises her blaster and pulls the trigger, but her blaster sways too much and she misses the target. She curses under her breath, but before she can aim better, the robber glances over his shoulder, raises his pistol and fires at her. The blaster bolts hurdle towards her and Eva throws herself against the wall of a building, dodging the fire. Her back aches from the impact she made, and getting up, Eva sees the robber fleeing. He’s much faster than she is, and he’s getting away, but Eva raises her blaster. She can’t allow criminal scum to escape. Raising her blaster, the crosshair lands on the robber’s back and Eva pulls the trigger. She hits him and the robber lets out a scream. He stumbles over the sidewalk and onto the street, but in the corner of her eye, Eva sees a speeder truck shrieking over the road and slamming the brakes, but it’s too late. The robber screams with panic as the speeder truck races towards him and smashes into him. Her heart skips a beat and Eva looks away with shock, frozen on the sidewalk. Closing her eyes with disbelief, she can’t comprehend she just witnessed the horrible death of a robber. Being crushed by an oncoming truck on the road - what a horrible way to die.

She hears the shout of the truck driver with panic as he jumps out of the cabin, echoing through the air. Eva dares to look, and her eyes immediately land on the driver grasping his head with his hands, gazing at the lifeless body in front of his truck. It left behind a long trail of blood on the black road. With racing lungs, Eva wanders towards the truck in silence. The trail of blood hypnotises her with shock until her eyes land on the robber’s body. She doesn’t dare to look at his face, but she sees the truck’s grille hit the robber’s face first. The grille is covered in his blood. Damn.

While some civilians gather around and calm down the frantic driver, Eva’s eyes land on a bump in the man’s jacket. It’s drenched in blood. She lowers herself to the road and uncovers what the robber is hiding. What she reveals leaves her with more questions than answers. The robber stole a piece of stone with inscriptions all over it. It’s like a rock of an ancient temple of some sort, an artefact, and in his inner pocket shines something brightly in the sun. She slides it out of his pocket and notices it’s the insignia of the Rebel Alliance. This was no robber. It was a Rebel operative, and her eyes dart back to the piece of stone. What was a Rebel doing with a piece of antique? Why did he steal it?

Slowly, Eva picks the stone up and holds it in her hands. Carefully, she inspects it. Just a rock with inscriptions. What the hell were you going to do with this?

Puzzled, Eva steps back onto the sidewalk, and her eyes dart all over the place. From the blood trail to the dead Rebel to the rock she’s holding against her chest. Why did a Rebel need a rock from an antique dealer? Nothing makes sense and Eva can’t connect the dots. 

Eva glances over her shoulder and sees Roslin catching up with her, running towards her. 

“Dank Ferrik, what happened here?” Roslin asks, her eyes fixated on the blood on the road.

Eva gasps for air. “I neutralised him. I didn’t know he’d be finished off by a truck though.”

Roslin nods. “Mr Dane is doing fine. Just a wound on his knee. Did you retrieve what he stole?”

“Yeah,” and Eva shows her commander the stone with inscriptions. “I found a Rebel insignia in his pockets as well.”

Roslin scoffs with a hint of disgust in her voice. “Rebel scum. I’ll contact Capital Police to clean up his body,” and she grasps the comlink from her utility belt. 

With a nod, Eva gazes back at the blood seeping out of the robber’s body. She can’t imagine what the Rebel saw when the truck sped towards him. He must’ve seen his whole life flashing past him. Even when the dead robber is a Rebel, Eva can’t wish such a horrible death to even her worst enemies. This Rebel deserved any blaster more than the grille of this truck. She feels a knot forming in her stomach as she gazes longer at it. I’m sorry. You didn’t deserve this, and Eva looks away, unable to look at it any longer. 

As Eva walks back through the market alley at Steel Crane Plaza, she stumbles upon a group of cops taking a police report. A nurse droid is treating Mr Dane’s knee wound in his market stall. Eva walks past the officers towards the old man. Seeing he’s doing fine - just as good as before he was robbed, Eva feels grateful for his wellbeing. However, the blood she just witnessed makes her unable to form a smile on her face. Not even a fake smile. 

“Mr Dane, I got you the-, whatever he stole from you,” and Eva lowers herself to the ground and shows him the stone.

Mr Dane smiles and on his chair, he leans forward towards her to inspect it.

“It’s fine,” says Eva. 

“Perfectly fine, Miss Eva,” adds Mr Dane. “Excellent. Thanks to you, this robber had no chance, thank you.”

Even then, Eva can’t get herself to smile. 

“It’s my duty, Mr Dane,” she responds with a nod. “Where should I put it?”

Mr Dane smiles as he strokes Eva’s hair. It feels gentle and her heart calms down from the atrocity she just witnessed.

 “Put it on your nightstand, Miss Eva,” Mr Dane responds. “Keep it. As you can see, I’m far too old to catch some thieves. It’s safer with you than it is with me.”

“But, it’s a relic,” Eva stammers. “It’s better in the hands of a slow historian rather than a soldier. I’m not sure if that’s a good plan. I don’t think I can keep it intact.”

“But I believe you can,” Mr Dane responds, “and I entrust you this reward for your service. My young lady, keep it as a reminder of how grateful I, as a civilian of Vaulent 6, am for your act of service.”

Eva sighs and she glances at the stone. The lines are elegantly inscribed, forming circles and triangles of absolute precision. It’s a beautiful piece of art, and Eva accepts the reward and holds it closer to her chest to protect it. Even when she has no idea what it exactly is, she takes it. But the fact a Rebel died for this piece of rock remains in her mind, and now getting to keep it as a reward puzzles her even more. Apparently, it held no value before the Rebel stole it. Why did he steal it? It’s just a worthless slab of stone. Her thoughts keep drifting away to the unanswered questions and her mind keeps running off to the trail of blood the truck left behind. 

Something is going on, but Eva can’t put her finger on it

Chapter Text

The sparkling trail. The panicking driver. The blood. 

The day after the robber’s life was brutally snatched by 6 tons of weight racing towards him, Eva pushes herself up from the mattress and rubs her eyes. Her eyelids feel heavy and she feels like she’s on the edge of dozing off again. Her duty yesterday didn’t do well. As the other girls in her barracks get up, Eva yawns and stretches her arms to wake them up. Her lungs fill with cold air and she shivers a little. Hopefully, the cold atmosphere will keep her awake, but she can already tell her stripped night rest won’t do all too well for her. The stone slab she was rewarded by Mr Dane lies on her nightstand and Eva glances at it. She sighs. 

If you didn’t look so valuable, I wouldn’t have needed to let your thief be finished off by a kriffin’ truck. Thanks, stone.

Even at breakfast that morning, when the canteen of the Academy fills with cadets and she constantly hears chatter in her ears, Eva keeps staring into space. Even when she shoves the piece of bread into her mouth, she doesn’t feel more awake. 

She suddenly feels a tap on her hand lying on the table. Eva looks up and sees it’s Ashara. 

“Hey, you’re alright?” she asks, tilting her head.

Eva sighs and shakes her head a little. “Haven’t slept really well.”

Ashara nods. On her plate stands a cup with white vapour rising. She shoves it towards her.

“Here, take my Caf,” says Ashara. “It’ll do you good.”

She grasps her cup of Caf and takes a sip. 

“Tastes like kriffin’ cardboard,” says Eva, clenching her jaws.

Ashara chuckles. “As usual,” and she shoves a piece of fruit into her mouth.

Though it tastes awfully dull, Eva slowly feels the energy rushing back. And eating the rest of her breakfast, she feels her mind clearing up. She’s back on track. Now that she feels the energy rushing through her, Eva can reflect on the questions she was left with yesterday. A Rebel stealing a slab of stone that holds no value whatsoever still puzzles her. She thought Rebels would at least steal something they could use in their fight against the Empire. A piece of stone would add nothing. It’s just a piece of antique. It holds no firepower, no protection, no force, nothing. With the same questions lingering in her mind, Eva goes to personal combat class with her squad.

Standing on the rubber mats, Eva cracks her knuckles and prepares herself for a fight. However, she keeps thinking back to the ancient stone and the Rebel robber. She’s unable to shove them aside. On the other side of the mat stands Roslin, stretching her arms and raising her fists. 

“You’re ready?” Roslin asks, looking over her fists.

Her heart starts pounding in her chest with the energy still fresh in her veins. She nods. 

“Ready,” Eva responds. 

The training fight starts. With narrowed eyes, Eva raises her fists and launches herself forward. Coming closer, Eva lashes out. Roslin blocks and Eva’s fist smashes into her open hand, and she steps back. Roslin lashes out, hits Eva’s shoulder and she stumbles backwards. She feels her shoulder burning with pain, but she goes on. She stabilises herself, launches herself towards Roslin and lashes out. Roslin dodges her blow but Eva launches her other fist and pounds it into Roslin’s chest. 

Meanwhile, Peyton and Ecklund stand aside, watching the two as Roslin and Eva fight each other with thuds echoing through the boxing room. 

The two start circling each other, and with her heart racing in her chest, Eva anticipates Roslin’s future moves. She catches her breath, but even when her lungs burn to breathe, the blood that streamed down the street returns and the Rebel’s last seconds flash before her eyes. She can’t get the images to rest. Suddenly, she feels a blow in her jaw. She’s pulled out of her thoughts and Eva collapses to the ground with a burn of pain in her jaw. With her knees on the ground, Eva grasps her jaws. It’s aching like hell, not because Roslin is stronger but because she got distracted. Eva realises the mystery that unfolded before her yesterday is trying everything to remain with her. Not even during an intense training session like this can she put it to rest. If she can’t let it rest, Eva figures that perhaps, she has to pay attention to it. Perhaps it will only go away when she understands the whole mystery of the stone and the Rebel. Maybe she needs to vent it.

Roslin lowers her fists. “You’re alright?”

Eva looks at her and lets go of her burning jaw. Though it feels painful, it’s not bad, so she pushes herself up from the ground.

“I’m fine,” Eva responds, and she starts chuckling. “That was a good one.”

“Wanna stop?”

“No, I’m not on the floor yet. We just started.”

Roslin nods, and as Eva takes some seconds to let her lungs fill with cold air, she raises her fists again and she continues.

“You’re a little bit hesitant,” Roslin remarks.

She steps closer towards her and Eva anticipates her next move. She shifts her weight from foot to foot.

“What is it you’re thinking about?” Roslin asks and she tilts her head a little. “The boys of the training yesterday?”

Eva smirks. “No. I was thinking about something else that got me distracted.”

Roslin steps towards her and launches her fist. Eva ducks, gets up, sees Roslin’s other fist coming towards her, and blocks with her open hand. 

“I’ve been thinking about yesterday,” says Eva. 

She launches her fist and pounds Roslin in the shoulder within a fraction of a second. Roslin stumbles backwards.

“Why would a Rebel steal a rock?” adds Eva.

Roslin steps towards her, raises her foot and kicks Eva with her leg. She hits her thigh and Eva tumbles backwards.

“That rock was as worthless-,” Eva sighs, recovering from the leg kick and she quickly blocks Roslin’s fist with her arm, “as worthless as an apple peeler.”

To gain an advantage, Eva ducks and head rolls underneath Roslin’s flying fist. She lands on her feet, lifts up her leg and kicks Roslin in her ribs from the back. A stab in the back but an effective one. Roslin groans and stumbles away from her. 

“Nobody would steal a kriffin’ apple peeler,” Eva remarks. “So why’d you steal a slab of stone for the Rebellion?”

Roslin doesn’t seem to care much about her loud thoughts. The girl turns around with her jaws clenched, longing for a payback. Roslin charges forward, Eva raises her fist and launches it towards Roslin. Roslin ducks, dodges the blow and pounds her fist into Eva’s shoulder. The strike makes Eva jerk away from Roslin. Now that her shoulder aligns with her, Roslin launches forward, entangles her arms around Eva’s throat and puts her in a neck clamp. Eva feels the girl’s warm muscles pinching her airways as Roslin intensifies her lock. The pressure on her throat increases and Eva’s lungs burn with agony, gasping for the tiniest bit of air that manages to go through her squeezed throat. Roslin goes further and pushes her arms towards Eva’s chin, causing her to gag and choke. Roslin’s sheer power makes Eva’s feet lift up from the ground and she feels them dangling. Eva wheezes as Roslin’s neck clamp intensifies, and Eva grasps the girl’s arms that embrace her throat, trying to pull them away and get her airways back open.

“It-, it doesn’t,” but she can’t get more out of her mouth, “make any sense,” she manages to squeeze out.

“Shut up and fight me!” Roslin snaps, nearly shouting through the room. 

Eva wheezes. “Thought I’d-, share it with-, you.”

Eva’s eyes dart around, from Roslin’s arm muscles to the girl’s chin, and then downwards. She tries to look for any weakpoint she can use but she’s clueless. Eva has no idea how to counteract Roslin’s neck clamp. She never learned this tactic, not even from Sergeant Seren herself. 

Eva scoffs and clenches her teeth. “Where the hell did you learn this?”

“Stop asking!” Roslin snaps, and she squeezes Eva’s throat even further.

The pressure on her throat makes her eyes water and the tears start forming. As she’s getting out of oxygen, Eva assesses Roslin’s possible weak points within a second. Her head? No. Would do too little. Liver? Painful, but blocked by her own body. Wrist? In a quick second, that can make Roslin lose grip, but it wouldn’t do much. Roslin needs to be shocked and brought out of focus, so that wouldn’t work alone. Knee? That can work. Especially the kneecap. A kick with the back of her feet can rupture a surge of pain. Mixed with gripping Roslin’s wrist to escape the neck lock, the kick can work. With the little oxygen she has left to burn, Eva launches her leg forward into the sky. She lifts it up a few times, trying to create enough momentum to deal a serious blow. Then, with enough energy in her muscles, Eva lifts her leg one more time and pounds with the back of her foot into Roslin’s kneecap. Roslin lets out a scream of pain and she loses her grip on Eva’s throat. Eva grasps Roslin’s wrist and pulls it out of the lock. Eva slips out of the neck brace and falls to the ground. Her airways open up and the cold air rushes through her throat into her burning lungs. 

Eva wheezes, trying to get her lungs back on track, and as Roslin stabilises herself from her hit on the kneecap, they make eye contact. The game’s not over yet.

Eva stands up with clenched fists, but her body is totally deprived of oxygen and the world feels like it's spinning out of control. Eva almost trips over her own feet as she tries to reorientate herself, but before she can respond, Roslin launches towards her, tackles her with her leg, grasps Eva’s shoulder and makes her stumble towards the ground. Roslin grasps Eva’s throat and slams her onto the rubber mat and Eva shrieks. 

Gasping for air, she lies on the rubber mat with her back aching. With pain spreading across her body, Eva clenches her teeth and gazes at Roslin bending over her. She curses under her breath. Blasted hell.

“Game’s up,” Roslin gasps, “You wonder why?”

Eva doesn’t answer. 

“You’re thinking too much about things that don’t matter when a situation calls for your focus. I know what happened yesterday is weird, but you’re losing your focus because of it.”

“Does it make any sense to you?” Eva hisses.

Roslin grasps the collar of Eva’s training suit and pulls her up towards her as she bends over. She nearly rips off Eva’s collar and she gasps, startled by Roslin’s sudden move.

“Eva, did it help you?” Roslin hisses, staring straight at her.

Eva sighs as her collar stretches out. “No. It didn’t.”

Roslin nods. “You’re on the floor because you lost to a thought. This is training, but when it gets real, you’ll have to set priorities, and this trivial thought you had was not one of them. Got it?”

Eva tilts her head down and looks away from Roslin, but she has a point. Thinking back to the stone and the Rebel robber held her back. It was the wrong priority she valued more than her own victory. If she hadn’t thought back, she could’ve won. 

Eva lets out a sigh. “Yes sir.”

Roslin lets go of Eva’s collar and falls back onto the rubber mat. Her lungs still feel like they’re burning and Eva tries to cool them. Gasping relentlessly for air, Roslin reaches out with her hand.

“Here.”

Eva clenches her jaws and grasps Roslin’s hand. She’s pulled up and Eva almost stumbles over her. The world is still spinning around, but Roslin holds her against her chest to keep her steady. She moves her mouth closer to Eva’s ears.

“But you did good,” says Roslin and she smirks a little. “You had me struggling here.”

Eva nods as she presses herself against her commander. “Thanks.”

She takes some deep breaths to cool her lungs and get her brain supplied with oxygen.

“If you really wanna know what I think about it,” says Roslin in her ear, “it’s weird. If a Rebel steals a rock, it’s valuable. They’re fighting a guerilla war against us. They’ll use anything to fight us.”

Eva shifts her head and looks at her. “Even a rock?”

“Even a rock,” Roslin responds. 

Eva lets out a sigh. “I’m not sure, but I suppose so.”

“It’s the only explanation,” says Roslin. “Now get yourself refreshed. You look devastated.”

Eva smiles. You can say that again.

She steps off the rubber mat and sits down. She pushes her back into the steel pillar and Ecklund shoves a bit aside, making space for her. The sweat drips off of her forehead and Eva still feels her jaw burning from Roslin’s punch. It was a good hit, but perhaps a bit too good. Maybe she needs some help.

“So, who’s gonna prove herself next?” Roslin asks with her hands on her hips. 

Peyton and Ecklund shake their heads simultaneously.

“Not me,” they both chant. 

Roslin sighs. “Someone has to come and fight. Who was the last to finish their breakfast this morning?”

It was you, Peyton, and Eva and Ecklund simultaneously shift their heads to look at her. Peyton lets out a sigh and steps forward.

“Alright, I’m going,” she says and she puts down her datapad on the floor. “Eva, could you keep it safe?”

Eva nods. “Yeah.”

Peyton steps onto the rubber mats. “Hey Roslin, could you go a bit easy on me?”

“Why? You don’t want to end up as Eva?” Roslin smirks. “I’ll try to hold myself in.”

As Peyton and Roslin start jabbing at each other, blowing their fists into their bodies, Eva watches. Her heart starts calming down and the sweat starts drying up a little. She glances around a little and sees other squads training with their members as well. She recognises most of them, but Eva notices she’s missing one person. It’s Ashara, the squad medic, and glancing around to see if she’s somewhere else in the boxing room, Eva notices she is completely absent. She could need help for her burning jaw. Besides the need for her expertise, it’s training. Ashara should always be at training, unless there’s something that’s hindering her. But what? Surely she would’ve let her know she’s stopped by something.

Puzzled, she turns to the quiet girl sitting next to her.

“Ecklund, where’s Ashara?” Eva wonders.

Ecklund keeps her eyes on the two girls fighting each other. 

“Sick,” she responds. 

What? She looked completely fine to me at breakfast. Smiling and happy and all of that.

Eva nods. “She looked fine at breakfast.”

Ecklund remains quiet.

Eva hums. “Weird,” and she focuses back on the training fight that’s unfolding before her.

Peyton blocks Roslin’s leg kick with her shin. Eva tries to lose herself in the fight scene, but her mind keeps distracting her. This time, it’s not the stone and the Rebel robber. It’s Ashara now. This morning, she looked so much better than her. Ashara was smiling. There wasn’t a single sign that indicated she was sick. She looked too healthy to supposedly feel so bad that it warranted a sickness report and immediate absence. Something is not adding up and aside from that, Eva can’t stop thinking about the possibility of her being a Rebel. Once again, she knows from her heart that the most inconspicuous people can be the vilest traitors in their dark side. Unable to let her thoughts rest, Eva turns to Ecklund. Perhaps the quiet girl has an answer.

“Ecklund, about Ashara,” Eva starts. “Have you noticed anything strange about her?”

Ecklund shifts her head to her with furrowing eyebrows. 

“Elaborate,” she slowly demands.

“Well, she’s been acting strange lately,’’ Eva continues. “It feels like she’s distancing herself a little from the squad.”

Ecklund shrugs. “She’s always with us at training. What do you want more from her?”

Eva sighs. “I don’t know, but that’s just how I feel. Two days ago, Ashara left our barracks in the middle of the night. Earlier that day, she told someone in an empty corridor she’d be there. It’s just a little bit strange to me.”

Eva refrains from telling her about her suspecting Ashara of being a Rebel. She knows they all trust her, and Eva still trusts her too. It’s just a gnawing suspicion that’s baseless, and if she would tell it aloud, it could trigger a heated moment within the squad. It could break the squad apart again, so Eva swallows her words.

Ecklund shakes her head and gazes away. “You’re just thinking too much about her.”

Maybe she has to tell her about it. Eva swallows.

“Ecklund, I need to know what you’ve seen,” says Eva, and she starts whispering. “I’m asking you because I have a suspicion Ashara’s a Rebel.”

Ecklund shifts her head with confusion in her eyes.

“I know it’s so baseless,” Eva whispers, “but I know from experience that the most normal-looking people can hold the vilest secrets. Trust me. You’re the quiet girl, you have better eyes than the ISB. You know more about us than what I know about myself. I just have to check in on her. From my heart, I know she’s not a Rebel, but from my mind, I know there’s a .0001 per cent chance she is.”

Ecklund gazes at her in silence, still seemingly unconvinced.

“I don’t want to experience my first nightmare ever again,” Eva whispers.

Ecklund looks away and sighs. “I did notice some weird things. She was on an arrowhead.”

“When?”

“Like almost every day? Sometimes at night too. You didn’t notice?”

“Except for that one time when I woke up.”

“She’s been like this for a month.”

Eva raises her eyebrows. Apparently, Ashara’s been showing this behaviour for much longer than she thought. The question of what’s happening lingers to her mind and Eva can’t stop it from distracting her. Perhaps she should handle and take care of it, and if she’s really sick, then checking in on her would be the best thing to do. So, she stands up from the cold floor.

“I’ll check in on her,” says Eva. “Maybe I need a check myself for my jaws.”

And with that, Eva walks out of the boxing room and heads into the corridors of the Academy. If Ashara is really sick, hopefully, she’s doing alright and will be over soon.

She taps on the door button and the blast door of the barracks slides open, but she sees immediately that there’s no one. Ashara isn’t here. Perhaps she’s at the medbay or somewhere outside, taking some fresh air or visiting a nurse droid, so Eva continues. With each step she takes, she gets more worried about Ashara and what’s going on. 

Eva looks at the Medbay. The only ones who are there are some nurse droids and a cadet who twisted his ankle during training. But no Ashara. Eva looks outside within the perimeters of the Academy. No Ashara. Eva looks at Trooper Armament Bay. ACY knows about Ashara’s sickness report, but the droid has no idea where she went. Ashara’s whereabouts is a mystery.

After a long search, probably an hour later, Eva leans with her back against the wall in the corridor. Ashara is nowhere. She expected her to be at places to rest like any other sick person would. Apparently, this is not the case. Maybe she’s in a different way sick? Ashara is a Pantoran so maybe it’s something related to her genes, something tied to her race. The galaxy is full of aliens with a wide variety of DNA and each species has its own reaction to circumstances. Pantorans are mostly unaffected by the flu, but humans can be seriously impacted when they are infected. For other diseases, it can be the other way around. Maybe it’s that, just something in their genes, but Eva feels clueless. If she was really sick, Ashara would’ve let her know she was. 

Suddenly, she remembers what Ecklund told her. When Eva asked her if she noticed something strange about Ashara’s behaviour, Ecklund said something about an arrowhead. Suddenly, it gives her a lead, and in an instant, she sprints through the corridor, looking for the nearest ground hangar bay. Because of their distinctive arrow-like shape, speeder bikes are nicknamed arrowheads. She didn’t pick it up at the time, but now, Eva realises Ashara was seen driving a speeder bike. If Ecklund is right, Eva can find her in the hangar. 

Eva runs into the vast hangar bay of the Academy building. There are some ITTs standing in their parking lots. A few TIE Vulcan tanks are receiving some service rounds from mechanics, and some Stormtroopers walk around, but generally, it’s mostly empty. But this is the place for ground vehicles, and if Eva’s thoughts are correct, Ashara must’ve taken a speeder bike from here. 

Looking around, she sees a serviceman inspecting a TIE Vulcan with a flashlight and a scanner. He’s shining into the tank’s engine chamber. Maybe he’s seen her, and so, Eva approaches him.

“Uh-, sir?” Eva stammers.

The man turns around. He wears thick overalls with yellow, reflective stripes, and weathered, metal-grey work boots. 

“Do you have a few seconds?” she asks.

“Be quick about it,” he mumbles, and he shifts his focus back on the tank’s engine block.

“I’m looking for my squad member,” Eva continues. “She’s a Pantoran, so blue skin, golden tattoos-,”

“I know how they look,” the man snaps. “They’re pretty distinctive.”

“Well, did you see one in this hangar in the last couple of hours, taking a speeder bike?”

The man suddenly curses under his breath.

“Track Links are busted to hell,” he whispers. “Yes, kid. I saw a Pantoran here. She hopped onto an arrowhead when I just started inspecting this unit an hour ago.”

So she did leave on a speeder bike today.

Ecklund was right. Ashara left on a speeder bike and Eva is left behind to eat her dust. She’s clueless why. What is she trying to escape? She can’t form an answer that’s plausible in the slightest. Besides, she’s found absolutely zero signs that indicate Ashara has Rebel sympathy. She can’t even believe she would have them, and so, with a confused mind that can’t rest, Eva walks off, puzzled by everything. Apparently, Ashara is keeping a secret. Eva feels like it’s okay to have secrets, but Roslin’s punch in her jaw has left her with physical pain and a mild headache on the horizon. She needed her in the boxing room. Ashara’s secret is now impacting her negatively, and Eva feels like that’s not okay. It makes her more intrigued about what Ashara is up to. 

Ashara, what are you keeping a secret?

Meanwhile, Ashara shrieks through the roads of Vaulent Capital. With her helmet squeezing her head, she holds tighter onto her driver. Seeing the Academy building in the reflection of the rear windows of speeders she passes, Ashara hopes her little secret won’t get to light. It’s all so serious at the Academy that it feels like she’s trapped. In her heart, she’s afraid it could land wrong with her friends…

Chapter Text

The sparkling trail. The panicking driver. The blood. The stone. Everything rushed back yet again.

Rubbing her eyes, Eva feels the exhaustion taking hold of her. It didn’t feel like a nightmare. It was just images that flickered in her mind. The stone and the streaming blood kept flashing, and now, Eva suffers the consequences. Again. She can barely hold her eyes open in the early morning. The rest of her squad are already getting up and the ceiling lights brighten in a flash. With a dull, tired feeling, Eva pushes herself off the mattress.

Eva sighs. Dank Ferrik. Who did I upset so much?

At breakfast, even with a tired mind, she can’t keep thinking about it. 

On the other side of the table sits Ashara, and looking in the corner of her eyes, Eva wonders what she’s hiding. But she has no idea how to address it. She could ask her what her new free time rituals are, and why Ashara faked being sick while she was told she drove off on an arrowhead. But she doesn’t want to ask. Sipping her cup of cardboard, Eva fears whatever she asks can unleash. In her heart, she knows Ashara has no ill intentions, but in her mind, she knows it isn’t always true. It feels conflicting. 

Eva sighs with frustration. It feels like her suspicions about Ashara and her constantly stripped night rest hold her hostage. The things that shouldn’t be possible are putting her mind on overdrive. Dank Ferrik. What’s happening with me?

Then, an officer walks past Eva’s table with a holoprojector in his hand. The officer’s presence brings her out of her thoughts and she looks up with intrigue. He wears the officer’s signature tight, grey suit with a metal pin on the cap. The rest of the squad looks up at him too.

“Commander Verin?” he asks.

Roslin puts down her cup. “Yes sir?”

“A message from Academy Command,” he says and puts the holoprojector on the table. “It contains your new training details and it will brief you about what you can expect from today.”

“Thank you, sir,” Roslin responds, and the officer walks away, giving out more projectors to other tables. 

Intrigued, Eva glances at Ashara. New training details? That’s interesting.

Ashara grasps the holoprojector and shoves it towards Roslin on the other end of the table. With intrigue, the squad remains silent as Roslin activates the holoprojector and puts it in the middle of the table for all of them to see.

The projector flashes blue and starts rendering the symbol of Academy Command, the same as the Galactic Empire.

“Dear cadets of the Night Force program,” starts a male voice-over. “This message is forwarded to you to brief you about your renewed training details. Due to development in the Imperial war effort, the Army is offering a training course that involves trench- and ground warfare. You will train manoeuvres such as Flanking, Pincer, and the Echelon Formation to prepare you and your squad for the battlefields. This training will be done alongside Vaulent’s Army Infantry Corps, Division 606.”

That last line makes Eva feel a rush of surprise like a shock. Hearing her new training course makes her feel a little excited. Her pupils grow, interested in what this new training course will bring her.

“It is challenging, hard, but most important of all, rewarding. However, this Army training course is a highly experimental part of your training in an already experimental program. Hereby, the participation of your squad in the Army training is voluntary and not obligated. Commander, your new orders, should you choose to accept it, is to report at your ACY at the TAB before 10:00 this morning, and hand in this puck. Your ACY will then guide you through the rest of the process. Dear commander, the decision to go is yours. Good luck.”

The symbol of Academy Command disappears and Eva’s left without words. She leans forward and looks at Roslin, wondering what her call will be. 

“So the decision is mine,” Roslin starts, looking up at the squad. “What do we think? Stay home or move out?”

Peyton leans forward. “Move out. The manoeuvres sound astral. We’ve never had that before.”

Ecklund nods with a hum. “Better that than The Well again.”

Ashara nods. “Yeah. Field training sounds exhilarating and fun to me.”

Roslin shrugs. “I’m sure it’s not going to be that fun though. The infantries are doing one hell of a dirty and dangerous job. It’s easy to get injured on the field and suffer from the cold.”

Ashara chuckles. “Sounds challenging to me. I like it!”

Eva chuckles. “You just want cadets to suffer from dislocated arms and broken legs there, don’t you?”

Ashara bursts into laughter. “It finally sounds like some proper challenge. I’m bored treating you all in the Medbay or the transporter for some burn wounds. Being the real fieldmedic sounds astral to me.”

“Alright,” says Roslin. “You’re right about it being not-so-boring. Peyton, how many times did we go down The Well?”

“55 times,” Peyton responds.

Roslin nods. “Time for something new and challenging then. Are we all done with breakfast?”

“Yes sir,” they all say one after the other.

“VSRC005, let’s move out then,” says Roslin. 

“Yes sir.”

Eva stands up and follows her squad towards the barracks. Arriving there, she packs the little stuff she needs. When she joined the Academy, she didn’t have much anymore to begin with anyway, so she’s done quickly. As she puts a box with markers in her backpack, her eyes land on the stone. It’s sitting on the nightstand. For a brief moment, her thoughts convince her to take it with her. As her hand swipes over the coarse surface of the stone, Eva then stops herself. The sparkling trail, the panicking driver, the blood - she’s been having these images flashing past her in her sleep ever since she took hold of it. She might get liberated from her stripped nightrests if she keeps her distance from it, and so, Eva zips her backpack shut and leaves it on the nightstand. Besides, it’s field training on an Army base. Not a great place to store an antique thing anyway. So, Eva leaves the stone behind. It’s much safer here than with her, and her nightrests might be better off without it.

Within a minute, Eva follows her squad out of the barracks with a packed backpack and walks towards the Trooper Armament Bay. With the caffeine rushing through her veins, Eva feels excited. It’s a sudden change in her training schedule, and it seems like Academy Command has thrown everything in a whole new direction. Trench- and ground warfare is so much different than what she’s been training in The Well and the SimArena. Those training are more focused on urban operations, but on the battlefield, there are no buildings to raid or stable pavement to run over. It’s going to be slicky, wet, cold, and muddy. That’s a lot different, and Eva can’t wait to see what they’re up against in the mud.

At Trooper Armament Bay, Eva gets her E-10 blaster pushed into her hands by ACY-4. After that, the droid leads the squad through the corridors towards the hangar bay of the Academy. An ITT troop transporter is standing by with its engine already rumbling. Before she steps into the cabin though, ACY holds her arm and Eva turns around.

“Eva,” says the droid. “Be careful.”

Its female voice sounds monotone, but amidst her words, Eva can hear a hint of concern. 

“I will, Acy,” Eva assures. “You’re staying?”

“Affirmative. I am ordered to stay behind.”

Eva nods. “Okay then. Could you be on the lookout for me whenever Eline tries to call me?”

The droid nods. “Affirmative. I will forward all of her calls to you. Good luck.”

Eva smiles. “Thanks, Acy.”

And after that, Eva boards the ITT and leaves the Academy behind, on her way to a new adventure. Yawning, Eva hopes this will clear her mind of her distracting thoughts. Hopefully, the Army training will be so intense that her mind will not have a second to dwell on her suspicions about Ashara. Hopefully, it will be so exhausting that her mind will be too tired to even think about the stone and the blood of the Rebel. Hopefully, that is what she needs. Even with a tired mind, she remains excited about all of this. This is going to be so astral.

***

On the far outskirts of the Capital, far away from the paved streets, Eva stands in line. Around her stand many cadets, including her squad. Over 20 other squads have signed themselves up for this new Army training. Everyone stands in perfect posture to make their first impression better than ever. Feet a meter apart, backs straight, chins up, and arms tightly crossed behind the back. Eva ensures her posture isn’t off protocol and buries her boots into the mud. The empty field they’re standing on is surrounded by tall trees of the forest. The sky is covered in clouds and Eva shivers from the freezingly cold air, and there’s mud everywhere.

One of the Night Force directors steps forward. He wears a grey coat with his hands in his pockets. It’s Kirbley, the main guy of the program. Next to him stands a person she doesn’t recognise, but what she sees instantly is that the man is from the Infantry Corps. His armour is mud-grey, his helmet covers his head except for his face, and he has a respirator mask on his chest that he can put on his mouth. He also wears a cape to keep mud from gathering within the gaps of his armour. The man’s body armour is rustic and by far not as shiny as Stormtrooper armour. This trooper is doing the real, dirty jobs no Stormtrooper would do. 

Next to the unknown trooper stands some other soldiers wearing the same armour. Eva sees they’re all waiting for something. Probably orders.

“Cadets, I thank you for your participation in this training course,” Kirbley starts. “I imagine it’s a daring leap from the clean and urban Academy training to this. So I applaud you for your bravery.”

Eva notices Kirbley is careful. It’s good that he is. She remembers from the briefing that her new training details are highly experimental. 

“That is all I’m going to say,” continues Kirbley, and he turns to the trooper standing next to him. “Lieutenant, they’re all yours now.”

The trooper nods. “Thank you, Doctor.”

He steps forward. The mud splashes onto his boots and the man gazes at the cadets with stern eyes. Eva follows him with her eyes, and she can tell that he’s seen a lot already. His cold eyes betray the experiences he has gone through. This is a real soldier and it makes her heart speed up.

“Kids, welcome to Malmstrom Training Ground, a field of mud that’s not to be trifled with,” he says. “I am Lieutenant Amitash of the 606th Division and I’ll be your Taskmaster. Vaulent’s Infantry Corps has assigned me to teach you the art of ground warfare. Normally, we train cadets into troopers from the age of 18 or higher depending on their failures. With that, I mean dropouts from the Stormtrooper program, the Navy, ISB, or any other branch of the military, for insubordination, incompetence, or anything else.”

He stops in his tracks. “We fight in the most dangerous battles. 40% of all our casualties were failures whose Stormtrooper armour didn’t fit. 50% of our dropouts couldn’t face the horrors our battles bring. This is not to shame any of you - it’s to warn you about the dangers the Infantry Corps faces on the battlefields every day.”

Hearing the statistics makes a shiver run down her spine. 50% of the dropouts did so because of fear. It’s clear that it won’t be easy and she fears that it might even be more than she can handle. 

“You are Academy cadets, trained in sleek and clean facilities with barely any armour. In my eyes, you’re all spoiled kids.”

He stops in his tracks next to her and smacks Eva on the shoulder. Her heart plummets in her chest. 

“These pyjamas you’re all wearing won’t protect you from the cold and damp environment here.”

Startled, Eva glances at Lieutenant Amitash with a hint of frustration combusting in her chest. The hell? Just smacking me to make a point?

Eva catches her composure and looks away from him in an instant to stare straight ahead. She puts her arms back behind her back and crosses them.

Amitash scoffs. “And I have to teach you kids to fight in the mud. Even your own director is standing there with his hands buried in his pockets because he’s cold.”

Eva smiles and tries to hold in her giggles. She shifts her eyes and sees Kirbley still has his hands buried in the pockets of his coat. Kirbley smiles and lets out a sigh.

“Shut it, please,” Kirbley responds.

Amitash chuckles. “Back to business. Your Academy suits are useless in these environments. So, we’ve issued new armour sets that real Army troopers wear. It will shield you from the mud, the water, and the elements. We have your armour ready to be worn at Trooper Resources. We want you standing by with your new armour within ten minutes, and we’re doing it in groups of three squads, one after the other. After you’ve strapped on your armour, you will dump your old uniform and your belongings on the flatbed, which will carry them to your new barracks. Is that understood?”

“Sir yes sir!” Eva chants with the rest.

And ten minutes later, Eva steps out of the Trooper Resources building of the camp with her new armour suit strapped on. Eva peers down and checks her armour sets. Above her tight, black body glove sits the battle armour for her chest, shoulders and upper arms. Below her knees sit two shin guards and on her waist she wears a tight utility belt from where her E-10 blaster hangs. In her hands, she holds her new helmet. It’s made from tough durasteel. It shields her head from debris that might rain down. To protect her face, there’s a goggle that can be pulled down to protect her eyes. There’s a respirator mask too, sitting on her chest that filters out toxins in the air when it’s pulled up to her mouth. This sudden change feels so much different. It feels like she’s going to face a monster of a battle, and with all of this, Eva feels more confident about herself than if she had worn her Academy suit. For some reason, it makes her feel much better. Maybe it’s because the armour looks tougher, but whatever it is, Eva digs it. 

A flatbed on the back of a speeder truck is filled with backpacks and Eva throws hers onto the pile, and after that, the Army training immediately begins. There’s no time to be wasted, and within a minute, Eva stands in a tight circle around him. Lieutenant Amitash glances around at the cadets, scanning them with his cold eyes.

“I’m not going to throw you into the Rancor’s pit yet,” he starts. “That will be tomorrow when we’ll start training strategy. We’ll start with a game of deathmatch. I want to see your marksmanship, agility, and everything else you should have already learned by now. Prove yourself that you can put up a fight and work together as a team. Not as a squad, but as a team because I’m going to split all of you up into two teams. Deathmatch is just deathmatch. Fight ‘till the end and shoot everyone down of the opposing team.”

Just deathmatch? I’ve been doing that all my career. 

Eva feels like this will be just another day at the Academy. Nothing too extremely hard. Just a game of deathmatch. 

Mere minutes later, the deathmatch rages and Eva blasts down one cadet of the opposing team. The cadet, a boy, is stunned and collapses with a scream. She follows Roslin ahead of her and jumps down into the trench, and with a pounding heart, Eva draws her blaster. Eva sees another soldier emerging into the trench and notices he’s an enemy. The red bicep band tells it, and Eva hits him in the shoulder and then in the face and he collapses with a thud, splashing in the mud. He’s gonna sleep all day with that stun round in his jaws.

She walks on through the trench with her blaster drawn. The sky fills with flashes from blasters and the wails of cadets getting hit. Luckily, they’re all stun rounds. They’re annoying, but the worst they can do is punch one into unconsciousness. 

Eva glances over her shoulder. “Peyt, you’re with me?”

“I’m on your back,” Peyton responds, following her. “Roslin and Ashara are going in the opposite direction.”

“Got it,” Eva responds. “Perhaps we can box the others in.”

“We can try,” Peyton responds.

Suddenly, a shot from above hits Eva’s chest and she screams. A shockwave ripples through her spine and Eva collapses to the ground with pain in her chest. She can barely hold the outburst of fire and she clenches her jaws. 

“Dank Ferrik!” Peyton screams and fires.

Eva pushes herself up with shuddering lungs and she sees a cadet on top of the trench getting hit in the shoulder by Peyton. The cadet screams and falls into the trench, slamming his back into the metal floor plating.

Eva pushes herself up and Peyton gives her a hand. It still feels like her chest is on fire. Luckily, it isn’t all too bad, and Eva manages to bite through the pain.

“Eva, I’m so sorry,” Peyton stammers. “I wasn’t covering your back. I was aiming at the trench, not above. I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine,” Eva snaps, and she smirks. “Not your fault.”

Peyton nods, and Eva clenches her blaster and walks on. This time, Eva also keeps watching whatever might look down from above. Eva realises this game of deathmatch is holding nasty secrets that can get her shot. She hadn’t thought of trenches being a second layer of the battlefield. It makes this deathmatch a tricky, three-dimensional war, and Eva forgot completely about it. It’s a little thing she didn’t think of, and Eva realises she might have underestimated it. This game of deathmatch might not be just any game of deathmatch.

Eva looks at the screen of her wristlink. It shows how many of the opposing team are still standing: 18 remain. Blast it, where are they?

Eva turns around the corner in a trench, and further away, she stumbles upon a large mortar pit. There, Eva notices seven enemy cadets standing on the edge of it and firing. She raises her finger in the air, signalling to Peyton that they have to remain quiet, and they sneak in on them.

“Oh damn, that must’ve hurt,” says one of them, chuckling.

The others chuckle too. They’re far too distracted by the action going on on the surface. 

On the other side of the mortar pit is another trench that goes further away, and there, Eva sees two other cadets with drawn blasters emerging into view. They wear blue biceps. They’re on her team, and Eva signals with her finger to them that they have to be quiet. There are enemy troops. The cadets on the other side, two boys, nod, and sneak in on them. Together, Eva boxes them in, and as they come closer, she glances at the boys and nods. They nod back and Eva’s finger crawls to the trigger and fires.

“Holy shit!” one boy shouts, turning around, but before he can comprehend what’s happening, Eva and the rest mow them down from behind. 

All seven collapse to the ground, stunned with over a dozen stun rounds. They won’t be waking up in an hour, and Eva chuckles at their stupidity. They didn’t even care to protect their backs. 

The other boys walk towards her.

“Great job,” one compliments, and he gives her a fistbump. 

Eva smiles and glances at her wristlink. Seven are still remaining - no, six. 

“There are still six to go,” says Eva.

The boy leans in. “We’ve cleared the south half of the system. You did north?”

“Yeah,” Eva nods. “We’ve cleared everything.”

Peyton joins in and glances at her wristlink. “We should check the surface. Six-, five remain.”

“Yeah, they should be easy to find, then,” the boy responds. 

Then it’s over soon.

Eva and the others crawl out of the mortar pit. Her eyes are immediately drawn to a sea of blue bicep bands. Her team is swarming the battlefield. She notices they’ve lost almost half of their power, but the enemy’s team is dwindling down quicker to the bottom. She looks at her wristlink again.

“Four now,” says Eva. 

She scans around, looking for the remaining enemies. Then, she catches a glimpse of movement behind a shrub. Eva raises her blaster and fires. The blaster bolt pierces the shrub and someone from behind it screams. It’s a girl, collapsing on the ground with a red band.

“One down, three to go,” Eva remarks.

One of the two boys walks on top of the mortar pit. His eyes seem to catch something and he raises his blaster and fires.

“Two now.”

Eva gazes around, trying to find a glimpse of the remaining two. The air goes quiet as everyone of her team is trying to find the last man standing. Suddenly, Eva hears a screech on her left. That’s one, and as Eva glances at her wristlink, she sees there’s still one remaining.

“The last one!” Eva shouts.

Eva starts walking around with her blaster drawn with Peyton and the other boy next to her shoulders. She gasps for air as excitement rushes through her veins. It feels like her nerves are burning. They’re on the edge of winning.

“Where the hell is he?” Peyton asks, sweeping her surroundings with her blaster.

Eva finds the wreckage of a tank, half buried in the mud with holes covering every bit of its hull. That’s a good hiding spot, and suspecting an enemy to be behind it, Eva runs around it with her blaster raised, but she sees no one. No one was hiding behind it and she curses under her breath. Blast it. Where could he be?

Eva glances at the wreckage and she figures that a higher vantage point can help her find the last man standing. Eva puts her hand on the hull and climbs the wreckage. The metal hull squeaks under her boots as she scans the battlefield. Her eyes dart around. Trenches, boulders, shrubs, trees, but it’s desolate. The blue bands scatter across the battlefront, trying to find the last man.

Suddenly, her eyes land on a pillbox and in the gun opening, Eva catches a glimpse of movement. It’s a shadow, hiding in the pillbox for everyone. Eva chuckles as her gunsight lands on it. Gotcha.

Eva fires and the blaster shot shrieks through the gun opening and hits the shadow. A scream echoes out of the pillbox and Eva looks at her wristlink. Zero. She bursts into happiness.

“Got him!” Eva shouts. 

She looks down and Peyton bursts and cheers. Eva slides down the wreckage and gives Peyton a high five.

“Great job!” Peyton compliments and she entangles her arms around Eva. 

Eva smiles and embraces Peyton. “You think we made a good first impression?”

“Absolutely,” Peyton responds, and she lets go of her embrace, “but-, we might’ve underestimated it a little.”

They chuckle. So, there’s a lot to learn and adapt to. Eva recognises this game of deathmatch has its secrets she learned about the hard way. But the game went well. They’ve won and that counts. However, it’s not a game that sets the tone for the entire Army training. Eva knows that today is just a moment of peace before the violent storm strikes. Tomorrow, when they’re going to learn real strategy, the feeling of triumph is surely going to change. No more easy victories. She might lose real hard here, and she hopes this victory won’t make her underestimate the rest of her training. But the win of today makes the courage rush through her veins, and she’s ready to take the rest.

***

As the late evening arrives, Eva sits with just her tank top and soft panties on her bed. The barracks feels much different than what she was used to. At the Academy, the mattresses were stiff but she slept fine on them. There was always heating except for the morning to wake them up in an instant. And it was all inside an enormous building. The outside elements were far outside. Now, Eva can hear the wind blowing outside. The barracks is just a steel barn on the fields, and the heating is done with an old gasburner. Roslin has set it to the maximum so at least it’s warm inside, but it’s by far not as luxurious as what she was used to. Surely, the gasburner is going to run out of fuel to burn. Even though it’s all downgraded, it still feels like an adventure. It’s fun.

As the lights go off and the barrack floods in darkness, Eva pulls the bedsheets closer to herself and closes her eyes. 

Suddenly, Eva startles and wakes herself up in shock. She gets up and slams her head into the bed above her. A shock of pain ruptures in her head and Eva drops down onto her mattress, reaching for her forehead. It feels as if her skull is splitting open. As she rolls around, groaning in pain, Eva feels her tank top is wet. She puts her hand on her chest and it feels sweaty and cold. The sweat sticks to her hand and Eva feels her heart is racing like hell. 

It happened again. She saw them. The images of the stone and the Rebel’s blood streaming over the street rushed back. This time, it was worse. It rushed back with violence. Never did she wake herself up with shock rippling through her nerves and sweat all over her body. It was always just images that flashed by, but now, it was a nightmare. She is clueless about why. She thought that leaving that stone at the Academy would rest her mind. Apparently, it didn’t work. Somehow, it has made it even worse.

Who the hell did I anger so much?

Something is going on. Something is taking her hostage. Eva can feel it, but she can’t put her finger on it. What the hell is happening?

Chapter Text

“We’re getting a bit of rain.”

Eva looks up at the sky with her hand flat. The grey clouds cascade over her as fast as a train, and the tears they drop feel cold on her hand.

Peyton shifts her head to her. She has her back against the hull of a tank wreckage. “Great. I already have enough of the mud.”

Eva smiles. “Hey, you wanted something new and challenging. This is it.”

Peyton giggles. “I don’t know. I guess I’m just whiny today.”

She chuckles a little and looks up at the sky. The grey shades whirl around like twisters. Hopefully, the clouds won’t turn into a violent storm.

Yesterday was fun. The deathmatch game was tricky but Eva won it nonetheless. Hopefully, it made a good first impression with Lieutenant Amitash, and she hopes today will continue her good image. However, Eva has a feeling it won’t. Today, it will be a whole lot different and she can feel it in her nerves. Today is Eva’s first strategy training. The Flanking Manoeuvre she’ll be training requires good timing and cover fire. A slip-up because of the soil turning into slippery mud can make it annoyingly difficult, and Eva hopes the turbulent weather above her won’t escalate.

As it starts drizzling a little, Eva recites the instructions Lieutenant Amitash provided her. Like yesterday at the deathmatch game, two teams fight against each other. The D-team defends its stronghold surrounded by trenches, pillboxes, and bomb craters. Eva’s team, the A-team, has to attack the D-team’s stronghold and capture it by invading from three flanks. Sounds easy, but in practice, it probably won’t. 

Eva expands her chest and yawns. The nightmare she had yesterday has left her exhausted yet again. She could still feel the hot sweat on her skin when she woke up and held her hand on her pounding heart. It has left her with a mild case of fatigue. Hopefully, this day will end in an instant so she can lie all day on her concrete mattress. 

Eva leans forward, wondering when the practice offensive will begin.

“Hey, Roslin. What are we waiting for?” she asks.

Roslin has her blaster on her lap and looks up.

“The signal,” she responds, and she holds up her wrist. “We’ll get a signal on our comm channel when the training starts.”

Eva nods. “Got it.”

“You’re ready for it?” Roslin asks.

“Yes sir.”

“You know what our part of the plan is?”

That’s gonna be a problem. Eva searches through her memories but remembers just snippets of her instructions. Some echoing words about dispersing and advancing, but that’s it. She must have been staring into oblivion when her part of the plan was told. 

Eva sighs and shakes her head. “Could you repeat it again? I think I didn’t get it.”

Roslin tilts her head with annoyance hinting in her eyes. “D-team defends their position. We have to attack it and capture it. We advance from here towards the checkpoint further up. Depending on how quickly the D-team wakes up, there are obstacles that we can use to take cover from their fire. From that checkpoint, we’re going to disperse from the rest and attack the D-team from the eastern flank. That’s it.”

Advance, disperse, flank, attack. Right.

“Where’s that stronghold?” Eva asks.

“Behind the ridge almost a click ahead,” Roslin responds. “There are some trenches surrounding it. You won’t miss it.”

Eva nods. She repeats her instructions a few times in her mind to make sure she won’t forget it again. Advance, disperse, flank, attack. Advance, disperse, flank, attack.

Then, an alarm wails through the speakers of all of their wristlinks. The game is on and Eva’s nerves ignite with nervousness.

“The game’s starting!” Roslin shouts. She gets up and walks around to get in front of the squad. “On me!”

Eva’s heart pounds in her chest as Roslin turns around the wreckage and steps onto the battlefield. She starts running and chases Roslin’s heels as other squads of the A-team advance and swarm the front of the battlefield. There, in the far distance, Eva sees the ridge and the trenches Roslin was talking about. Behind those, the D-team has its stronghold. 

Eva sees the troopers of the D-team taking their positions in the trenches and opening fire. The blaster bolts shriek towards the direction of the A-team and Eva hears the scream of a girl piercing through the air in her right ear. Glancing over her shoulder, Eva sees the girl being electrocuted by the stun round that hit her and she stumbles into the mud with a splash. Blast it. That looks painful.

The D-team reinforces their defense and Eva raises her blaster and fires back. However, their fire is too strong and the squad is forced to drop to the ground and lay low. Eva presses her chest against the ground as she gasps for air. 

“We got cover there!” Roslin shouts.

It’s the wreckage of a speeder truck and Roslin waves with her hand to the rest of the squad.

“Come on!” she shouts.

As Roslin crawls forward towards the wreckage, Eva buries her hands in the ground and starts crawling with her blaster in her hand. Some dirt gets in her mouth and Eva spits it out. Dank Ferrik. Yeah, now I get what Amitash meant with us wearing pyjamas.

Eva crawls towards her cover, gets up and pounds her back into it. The blaster bolts of the D-team remain shrieking past them, hitting other soldiers that fail to lay low. 

The rest of the squad crawls closer and gets to the wreckage as well.

“Dank Ferrik,” Peyton shouts, slamming her back against the wreckage next to Eva. “They weren’t joking when the briefing said it was gonna be challenging!”

Eva shifts her head with a chuckle. “What else did you think?”

“Hey, cut the chatter!” Roslin snaps. “We’re going westward to flank them!”

“Where’s the checkpoint then?” Peyton asks. “Have we reached it already?”

“It’s close, but we can flank them already,” Roslin responds, and she points in a direction, away from the battlefield. “So, we’re going west. We’ll have to run for the nearest spot of cover so we can advance eastwards. Got it?”

“Yes sir!” Eva and the girls shout.

Roslin peers around the corner of the wreckage and immediately turns back. 

“They’re distracted,” says Roslin. “There’s a barricade of blast walls. We can make a run for it. Ready?”

“Yes sir,” the girls shout once again.

Her heart aches and Eva takes one big gasp of air before she runs back into the open.

Roslin nods. “On me!”

Eva clenches her blaster and runs off. Her footsteps splash in the mud as Eva sees a barricade of concrete blast walls further down. The distance between her and her cover is desolate, however, and Eva’s nerves burn hotter. She glances over her shoulder and sees the rain of fire originating from the D-team’s stronghold. They’re running away from it and the D-team doesn’t seem to notice them. 

Eva is running closer towards the barricade. Suddenly, Eva hears several blaster bolts shrieking past her and sees them flashing before her eyes, nearly hitting her. Her heart skips a beat and Eva shrieks with shock. 

“Eva, go on!” Peyton shouts. “I’ll cover you!”

Eva doesn’t look back and runs on towards her cover. She gets to the barricade and Eva drops herself to the ground. She peeks around the edge and puts her blaster on the soil. Her gunsight lands on the face of an enemy trooper and fires. Though they all miss, it is enough to cover Peyton’s run to the rest of the squad. Peyton runs towards them and drops herself to the ground. Gasping for air, she regroups with her squad and Eva shuffles aside to make space for her.

“Thanks, Peyt,” Eva gasps.

Peyton gives her a fist bump. “Yeah, no worries.”

Eva’s lungs feel like they’re burning and she takes some deep breaths to cool them. The briefing she received was definitely not lying. The whole manoeuvre is much harder than the instructions made it sound.

“Alright, we’re in flanking positions,” Roslin shouts. “Ecklund, check them out! Tell me what you see.”

“Got it,” Ecklund responds. 

She shuffles past Peyton and Eva towards the edge of the barricade. Ecklund gets low and stares into her scope.

“Four enemies in a trench,” says Ecklund. “There’s a ridge behind them.”

“Can you see the stronghold from here?” Roslin asks.

“Yes sir. First the trench, then a field, ridge, then the stronghold,” Ecklund answers.

“Is there something between us and the trench?”

“Affirmative. A crater.”

“Alright, we can take cover and take them under fire from that crater,” says Roslin. “Ecklund, you cover us from here, got it?”

“Yes sir,” Ecklund responds. 

Wait wait wait. A thought instantly flashes in Eva’s mind. The D-team’s slow reaction gave Eva and her squad the opportunity to advance further than they should’ve. They’ve been rushing the first part of the mission so quickly that they’ve moved further than everyone else. They’ve rushed forward while the A-team has fallen behind. Eva realises that if they’re going to advance, they’ll have no one to aid them. The rest of the A-team is still in a heavy firefight and is unable to disperse to flanking positions. Eva leans forward with the pressure increasing.

“Wait, commander!” Eva snaps.  “Shouldn’t we hold until the other squads join us? We’ve been rushing everything.”

Roslin glances at her with a hint of annoyance growing in her eyes. “All they’re doing is slowing everything down. We should act quickly.”

“But-.”

“Cut it, Eva!” Roslin snaps, and she glances at Ecklund still lying on the ground. “Ecklund, you’re ready?”

With an annoyed sigh, Ecklund keeps her eyes glued to her sniper’s scope. “Yes sir.”

“Alright, squad, follow me!”

And with that, Ecklund unleashes a rain of terror towards the enemy. Roslin runs away from the blast walls. Eva hesitates for a flashing moment, but good soldiers follow orders. She can’t leave her commander behind and she gets up and follows Roslin despite her hesitation. Her boots splash in the mud as Eva runs towards a gaping crater in the surface. Eva jumps down into the crater, drops herself on her stomach, and crawls towards the edge. Eva puts her blaster over the ridge and sees the troopers of the D-team in her gunsight as they keep shooting at them. Eva fires and hits one of the four soldiers. However, their trench gives them way too much cover and Eva can’t hit them all.

Roslin crawls towards the edge and peeks over it.

“That trench is a pain in the ass,” says Roslin, catching her breath. 

Eva retracts her blaster. “Yeah. I got one. Three remain.”

Roslin nods and glances back at the rest of the squad, catching their breath as well.

“Just three?” Roslin gasps. “We can do it with that. We can take them.”

That’s fast, Roslin. Shouldn’t we slow down?

Peyton crawls towards her. “What? We’re going?”

“Yeah,” says Roslin, glancing over her shoulder. “Ecklund’s keeping them busy. Just keep your blaster aimed at them.”

“We’re a bit fast, don’t you think?” Eva argues. 

“If we can do it fast, why not?” Roslin responds.

Eva tilts her head with hesitation. I’m not sure. The A-team is still behind us.

But orders are orders. Roslin waves her hand to the rest of the squad. Eva clenches her blaster and Roslin launches herself from the crater. Eva follows her, gets up and runs out of the crater with a drawn blaster. The trench is coming closer and she sees the head of an enemy peeking over the edge. Eva shoots him and hits him with a stun round. He collapses and Eva continues to advance, but then, she’s hit in the leg. A wave of electricity zaps through her body and Eva collapses to the ground with pain in her leg. A stun round got her.

“Dank Ferrik!” Peyton’s voice echoes.

But in the corner of her eye, Eva sees Peyton taking a hit in the chest and collapsing to the ground. Her pupils grow as Eva buries her hands in the soil with anxiety ramping up.

“Peyton!” she screams.

Peyton groans with a shivering voice, and Eva’s lungs shudder with concern. Roslin and Ashara jump into the trench, but they’re both quickly fired upon by the D-team. In fleeing seconds, she sees Ashara glancing at her with concern growing in her golden eyes, but Eva recognises she won’t be able to. They’re both under fire. She has to get Peyton and herself out of here, alone, by herself. Eva buries her fingers in the soil and crawls towards Peyton. The girl’s eyes are shut and her lungs shudder. Eva can sense the pain in the shivers of her voice. Peyton has to reach the medic immediately. She glances over her shoulder. She sees Ashara putting her blaster down to come and rescue her, but Eva quickly waves at her to stop. Eva knows she needs to be covered or else she’s gunned down in an instant. She needs that cover desperately.

“Ashara!” Eva shouts. “Stay there and cover me!”

Ashara glances at her, hesitating, but she nods eventually, grasps her blaster and turns around. Troopers of the D-team upon a ridge duck away into their cover, giving Eva a window of time.

With pain in her leg, Eva grasps Peyton’s feet, gets up, and with all of her power, she pulls the unconscious girl towards the trench. Her body leaves behind a trail in the black mud. Eva pulls her into the trench and catches her body. 

“I got her, Ashara!” Eva shouts, putting her body on the ground.

Ashara retracts her blaster and moves towards her. The girl swings her backpack from her back and lowers to her knees.

Eva taps on Peyton’s cheek, trying to get an answer from the girl.

“Peyton, you hear me?” Eva asks, her voice shivering. 

Peyton doesn’t respond as Eva stares at the girl’s shut eyes. Eva’s lungs speed up with concern, hoping Peyton will wake up soon. 

“Hey, Eva!” Roslin shouts. “I need you here!”

Eva glances up at her commander, going wild with her blaster. However, she hesitates. She wants to stay with Peyton to know if she’s going to be alright, but, she knows Roslin needs her. She must keep her composure. All that matters now is giving the field medic some space to work. Eva leaves Peyton behind and runs to Roslin.

Eva grasps her blaster and pounds it on the ridge of the trench. Her gunsight lands on the defenders of the D-team, but they’re standing their ground. They fire back and Eva has to duck away from the blasterfire. Roslin ducks away too and Eva can see that her face has become as pale as snow. Her pupils are wide.

“Commander,” Eva asks. “What happened?”

Roslin shifts her eyes to her. “There were six of them.”

Eva’s heart sinks in her chest. 

“What? I thought Ecklund said four. I got one.”

Roslin shakes her head. “There were six.”

That means Ecklund was wrong. The sharpshooter didn’t have her glasses on or made a reckless assumption. Eva sighs and curses under her breath, recognising their first failure at camp. 

“Blast it,” she curses. “You’re good?”

Roslin shakes her head, but she remains quiet. Eva can see the sheer panic in Roslin’s eyes. The girl can’t keep her eyes still and Eva feels the nervousness rushing through her veins. She realises they’ve made a massive mistake. They relied on information that wasn’t true, and now, they’re with too little to advance further. She knows they’re doomed to fail. 

The sounds of the battlefront die down as the game ends with a wailing alarm on all the comm channels. Roslin supports Eva out of the trench as other cadets emerge from their covers, dragging others who have succumbed to the fire through the mud. Eva looks over her shoulder and sees Ashara carrying Peyton. The tech girl is still unconscious from the stun round she took. Her feet drag through the mud. 

“That went well,” Eva remarks, catching her breath.

Roslin sighs with frustration in her voice. Her face is still as pale as before. This training session has gone horribly wrong for the squad and the A-team. The D-team is most probably better off. 

They arrive at the collection point of the A-team in the middle of the training ground and Roslin drops Eva off. Her leg that took the stun round still aches and feels dull, but the muscles start responding again. Ashara puts Peyton on the ground too and arranges her arms and legs into a comfortable position. Eva’s gaze lingers on Peyton’s shut eyes as flickers of anxiety cross her mind.

From the battlefield, Lieutenant Amitash walks among the cadets of the A-team. From afar, Eva can see the disappointment in his cold eyes as they scan over the cadets. For a brief moment, she feels a shiver down her spine as her nerves keep burning with nervousness. She knows there will be a heated conversation between him and Roslin, and her commander sees it coming as well. Roslin’s eyes are glued to the ground as she desperately tries to calm herself down. Her hands tremble a little and her breath shudders. Roslin has never been like this. Never has failure struck her this hard and deep into her emotions, and Eva can feel her commander’s anxiety. 

“Roslin, are you good?” Eva asks.

Roslin shakes her head. “No. I almost got two of us killed if this were real-”

“Commander Verin.”

Lieutenant Amitash suddenly stands behind her and Roslin shakes and breaks her gaze. She stands up immediately and crosses her arms behind her back. Eva’s pupils grow as she knows it won’t be a lovely chat Amitash and her commander will have. 

“Yes sir?” her voice shivers.

Amitash steps towards her with his cold eyes focused on her while Eva watches them and listens.

“The performance of your squad at the deathmatch game yesterday was excellent,” Amitash begins, his cold voice piercing through the air. “Your squad pleasantly surprised me. Today, your performance and that of your squad was a letdown. You put your own squad in front of the entire A-team.”

“S-,sir?” Roslin stammers, her arms tensing up. “An operation depends on speed. I thought the others were too slow so I-,”

“Commander,” Amitash snaps with a sharp voice. “You found your own squad better than the rest?”

Roslin tilts her head down and shiveringly sighs. Eva can tell Roslin recognises where she’s gone wrong. 

“Yes sir,” Roslin responds, barely whispering.

Amitash sighs with annoyance growing further in his voice. Eva can hear it.

“Commander, are you familiar with the values the Imperial military is built upon?” he asks.

Roslin remains quiet.

“Perhaps one of your men can answer,” and Amitash shifts his cold eyes to her. “Trooper.”

Eva’s lungs suddenly stall with tension and she almost chokes on her own breath. In an instant, she gets up and straightens her back with her arms crossed behind it. The dull ache suddenly sharpens in her leg and she almost tumbles, but Eva shifts her feet and manages to balance herself.

“Yes sir?” she asks, clenching her fists.

“Can you tell me what our values are?” Amitash asks.

His cold eyes stare straight through her eyeballs into her soul. Eva can feel them burning through the air that’s between them. She swallows.

“Pride, power, order, loyalty, duty, discipline, honour,” and she takes one deep breath, “and unity, sir.”

“Unity,” Amitash repeats, and he shifts his eyes to Roslin. 

He smacks his hand onto her shoulder. Roslin shudders.

“Unity is when you stay with the rest of the team to fight,” he says. “Unity is not when you leave a team for dead. Because of your arrogance, Verin, your team lost the match, do you grasp my meaning here, commander?”

“Yes sir,” Roslin’s voice shivers.

“Good,” Amitash snaps. “Get your squad together and discuss the issues. We’ll be rehearsing this within 15 minutes and I want to see this improved! No longer will you leave your team behind!”

“Yes sir,” Roslin repeats.

As Amitash walks away to speak with commanders of other squads, Eva stands, watching Roslin gasping for air. She can feel each shudder that comes out of her throat and she waits nervously for whatever her call will be.

Roslin tilts her head a little. 

“I almost got us killed,” she whispers and turns around to her. “Eva, get the squad together for me.”

Eva notices the frantic movements of her eyes and her racing lungs. The massive error she made is pressing hard onto her commander’s shoulders.

“Everything alright, commander?” Eva asks.

“Sorry, I just need a second to wind down,” Roslin whispers.

Eva smiles a little and she nods. “Will do, sir.”

She turns around and her heart starts slowing down a little. Eva can still feel the shudders Roslin’s lungs made when the Lieutenant stood before her. Roslin was slapped in the face with the harsh truth, and rightfully so. Eva warned her about the fact they had advanced too far and too quickly, but Roslin was too arrogant. If we can do it fast, why not?

Eva realises she should have pushed through with her hesitance. She should’ve brought it up to her commander with more force to get her out of her arrogance. Thinking back, she has no idea why she didn’t push through. Perhaps because she didn’t dare.

Walking past Ashara’s shoulder, Eva’s eyes land on the sudden movement of Peyton’s hand. Her heart makes a jump and she sees the tech girl has finally woken up. Her breathing sounds shallow, but she’s awake, well and responsive.

Eva smiles. “Welcome back to the overworld, Peyton.”

Peyton looks up and she smirks a little. 

“How are you?” Eva asks.

“Not bad,” Peyton sighs. “I just feel dull.”

Ashara taps on Peyton’s knee. “Sleep inertia. It’s when you feel tired after just waking up. It usually goes away within an hour or so.”

“Hopefully within 15 minutes,” Eva responds, shifting her head to Ashara. “We’ll be rehearsing.”

Peyton sighs. “Dank Ferrik.”

“So just stay here, I’m gonna get Ecklund,” says Eva and she turns around and walks away.

With her eyes peeled on the horizon, Eva taps on her wristlink and moves it towards her chin.

“Ecklund, retreat,” she says.

“Copy that,” Ecklund’s voice crackles.

As she turns off the wristlink, Eva scans the battlefield with her eyes for Ecklund. Thinking back, she can still feel the frustration brewing in her chest. Roslin wasn’t the only person who made a big error. Ecklund gave them false information. Instead of four, there were six of them and that caused the squad to lose. She still can’t comprehend how the sharpshooter, the one who observes more than the city bank, didn’t see that the enemy was with more. How did she make such a big oversight? How was that possible?

There, Eva sees Ecklund running towards her in the corner of her eye. Her boots splash in the puddles of mud as the grey clouds above her start whirling more intensely. For a moment, Eva shifts her eyes up to look at the sky. It seems like a storm is coming.

“E-Eva,” Ecklund stammers, gasping for air.

She shifts her eyes to Ecklund, and Eva notices the guilt and panic flickering in the girl’s wide eyes.

“I’m sorry,” she gasps.

“Ecklund, there were six. Why did you say there were only four of them?” Eva asks.

“I-, I’m so sorry,” Ecklund stammers. “I only saw four. Just four, not more. It was my mistake, I’m sorry.”

Eva takes a deep breath. Like Roslin, Eva can feel the emotions brewing inside of Ecklund. Through her darting eyes, Eva can see that the error she made has inflicted a hefty punch in the guts. Though it was costly, Eva winds down her frustration and feels it slowly subsiding in her chest.

“It’s fine, Ecklund. We all make mistakes.”

Even me.

***

During the rehearsal, the plan changes. No longer is the squad rushing forward, but staying at the frontline to press the attack. The A-team breaks through the first defense line of the D-team. With that out of the way, Eva and her squad disperse from the A-team. She runs through the puddles of mud as the dark clouds above her whirl violently. The breeze starts picking up with each gust crashing into her face. The cold drizzle slowly intensifies and the mud on the ground becomes more treacherous than before. Slowly, the battleground turns into a sea of mud. 

Eva follows Roslin into a trench they’ve captured along with the rest of the squad. Eva goes to her knees and drops herself into the trench. Her eyes land on the unconscious bodies of the D-team with their limbs spread all over the place.

Roslin bumps her back into the metal wall of the trench, gasping relentlessly for air. “Okay. This time, no rushing forward. We’re pressing our attack. Take positions!”

Eva sees her commander stepping onto the fire step, a raised platform high enough for her to put her blaster on the ridge of the trench to fire. She follows the steps of Roslin and leaps onto the fire step. Her eyes land on the defenders behind the ridge in the distance. She aligns her blaster and fires.

Then, something goes wrong. She pulls the trigger but her blaster won’t fire. Instead, Eva hears a sharp click making her blaster tremble and her heart fills with panic. 

“Blast it, my blaster is jammed!” Eva shouts, retracting her rifle.

Eva looks at Peyton standing on the fire step next to her.

“Stomp it,” says Peyton. “That should unjam it.”

Eva ducks away and smacks the butt of her blaster against the wall of the trench. The metal wall plates dent with each smack. However, whatever she tries, the blaster doesn’t want to unjam as if it has a mind of its own - stubborn and not wanting to give way. Nothing seems to work. 

“Hey, need some help?” she hears a voice ask.

Eva turns around and sees a boy standing on the fire step a couple of meters away from her with his own squad. He’s glancing over his shoulder with his blaster on the ridge. Even if she needs help, Eva reluctantly wants to take it. She can’t press her finger on why exactly, but she just doesn’t feel the need to get it from someone who can unnecessarily distract her. The boy in The Well did, and that didn’t have good consequences for her nightrest.

Eva shakes her head. “No, I can do this myself, thanks.”

She smacks the butt of the blaster into the wall again. She tries firing again, but the blaster refuses to fire. Eva realises she can’t fix it on her own. She can see in the corner of her eye that the boy is looking at her. With a sigh, Eva looks at him and holds out her blaster with the butt towards him. The boy grasps the blaster and starts working.

Waiting for the boy to finish unjamming it, Eva drops herself and sits down on the fire step. He grasps the barrel and twists it until it comes loose. His sharp eyes are peeled on the blaster.  Eva’s eyes land on the quick movements of his fingers going in and out of her blaster, and a sudden thought arises.

“Why are you fingering my blaster?” Eva blurts out.

Eva’s heart skips a beat and her cheeks turn red a little. Oh my god, what the hell did I just say?  

The boy looks at her with surprise and chuckles. 

“When mud gets into the barrel, it slowly seeps into the firing chamber and the ignition coil,” says the boy. “If that’s wet or covered, it won’t be able to ignite the plasma from the power cell. That’s what got it.”

Eva raises her eyebrows. “Seriously? It was defeated by some wet dirt?”

“Yeah,” he responds. “I mean, put Iso9 in an arrowhead that only drinks Aco2 and the engine will explode. Put some water in a firing chamber and it will be jammed.”

Eva nods. Okay. Makes sense.

The boy then looks at her. “The name’s Daxan by the way. VSRC012.”

Eva rolls her eyes. Here we go again.

The boy keeps his eyes on her, expecting her to introduce herself, but Eva keeps her mouth shut. She knows that she has to focus on the things that are a priority. An introduction in the middle of the heat isn’t one of them. Daxan sees it and nods.

“No need to tell me your name, that’s fine,” says Daxan. 

Suddenly, the blaster makes an electric recharging sound and the boy looks up with a thin smile on his face. 

“It’s done,” says Daxan, and he holds out the blaster for Eva to take. “Next time, if stomping doesn’t work, check the firing chamber.”

Eva nods as she takes her blaster back. “Got it. Thanks.”

“At your service,” says Daxan with a nod.

Eva glances at Roslin with her blaster squeezed in her hands. “Commander, I’m ready!”

“Good,” says Roslin. “We’re going to push up. There’s a crater on our way, so we’re going to run out on my mark, got it?”

“Yes sir,” Eva responds.

“Peyton, Ecklund, you two know what to do?” Roslin asks, turning to the two girls.

“Yes sir,” Peyton and Ecklund both chant, the mud all over their body armour. 

“Alright. Ashara, Eva, we’re going to make a run for it,” says Roslin. “Those boys are in it too.”

Eva nods. She steps onto the fire step to prepare herself to climb over it. She sees the barren landscape between her and the D-team’s stronghold. It’s littered with craters her nerves start burning.

“Ready,” says Roslin, and she takes a sharp, deep gasp. “Now!”

Roslin climbs over the ridge. Eva jumps up and climbs out of the trench. Her feet splash in the mud as she starts running behind Roslin. Behind her, Peyton and Ecklund hold positions and fire at the defenders of the D-team. Their fire covers them as Eva and the others run toward the nearest crater. She leaps over the mud and sees the crater they’re aiming for coming closer.

Suddenly, Eva sees images flashing before her eyes like lightning. For a moment, the blasterfire hurdling towards her stops and hangs in the air. The stormy clouds above her cease twisting like whirlpools. Eva sees the Rebel robber before her eyes again and they are stuck to the horizon, unable to focus. The Rebel robber ran through the street while Eva chased him until her last shot at him made him stumble onto the road. The six-ton truck sped towards him with hissing brakes until the engine hood crashed into his head. He was killed on impact and Eva almost saw his head nearly bursting open with blood as it spread all over the road. The stone she uncovered from his jacket flashes as Eva is captivated by her thoughts. The lines were elegantly inscribed in the stone with perfect precision. Then, something else flashes before her eyes. It’s a sharp, screech, louder than any weapon she’s come across. She sees a yellow beam of light, burning in her eyes like fire.

Then, her foot trips. Eva instantly loses her balance and falls with a shriek into a puddle of mud. She splashes into it and she can feel the fiercely cold mud all over her face. She almost chokes on it. She feels and tastes the foul mud in her mouth and spits it out. The images that just flashed past her have left her disorientated. It feels like an empty spot aching in the back of her mind and she can hear something ringing in her ears. Not sharply, not painfully, but barely audible. 

Something just happened. The images she’s always been having at night came back with violence. This time, in the middle of the day. Disorientated, Eva has no idea what happened. The ringing in her ears subsides and Eva hears a shouting voice. It’s Roslin, waving at her with wide eyes as she lies in the crater.

Slowly, she grasps onto reality, and Eva’s heart starts to race in her chest with nervousness. Dank Ferrik, I have to get there.

Eva puts her hands on the ground to get up. The blasterfire is hurdling towards her and Eva knows she has to get to safety. But before she can get up, Eva sees a stun bolt speeding towards her. It hits her and Eva feels a shockwave rippling through her spine and instantly immobilises her. Her face splashes into the mud again and the screeches of blasterfire vanish as a dark void entangles her.

That late evening, Eva feels the hot water of the shower pouring down onto her. The black, gritty mud washes off and vanishes in the drainage. As Eva entangles her arms around her naked body, she tries to grasp reality and figure out what happened on the battlefield. The images she always saw in her dreams now came back as full-fledged flashbacks. She can still feel each image that flashed before her eyes like lightning. However, there was also something else. It was the sharp screech that came out of a beam of bright, yellow light. That image has never appeared in her dreams. So where did that come from? She squeezes herself in her arms in fear. 

This damned Army base is haunted. Eva can feel it. At no other place has these flickering images ever become more violent than just flickering images. Eva has no idea what has attached itself to her. However, she knows it all happened with one single object. That stone the Rebel stole from Mr Dane on Steel Crane Plaza has set everything in motion. These nightmares and flashing images can all be traced back to that single day. But she can’t press her finger on why. 

It could be the pressure that’s been building up ever since she started here. Whatever it is, Eva has a feeling that she might need help. Or her fury has weakened. That wouldn’t look good for the supposedly cold-blooded Rebel killer . Eva knows she’s supposed to be the perfect kind of soldier. Those memories weaken her, whether she sees them in her bed or on the battlefield. They chase her like obsessed vultures. It’s slowly gnawing away what she feels she’s supposed to be. She can hear them talking in the quiet corners of her mind.

Gazing down at the water streaming down her legs, Eva recognises she might need help. She knows the doctor’s office is close. 

Eva lets go of herself and slams the shower faucet. She dries herself and pulls on her off-duty clothes. She throws her wet towel in the dusty laundromat and steps outside the refreshing building. The dark clouds above her are pouring down water and the whistling gusts of wind crash into her face violently. 

Leaping over the rivers of mud, Eva stops in front of the entrance door of the camp’s main building. Doctor Kirbley might know what she’s dealing with. As the door slides into the wall, Eva’s eyes land on a pamphlet displayed on the wall in the empty lobby. 

SOLDIERS, OUR FEARLESS HEROES. YOU TOO, RIGHT?

That first word echoes through her mind. Shame fills her as her eyes are peeled at the pamphlet. Soldiers are brave, fearless men. If she ever wants to become one of them, she can’t give in to her feelings. I can’t let those blasted thoughts sway me. I’m a soldier now. They don’t fear anything, and neither should I.

Knowing that her own mind is running away, Eva feels her cheeks burning with shame. She can’t let down the Empire she loves. She can’t break her promise to Eline. Ashamed of herself, Eva leaves the doctor’s office behind, convinced that she doesn’t need the help with her racing mind.

Chapter Text

It raged all night long. The rain kept crashing onto the metal roof of the barracks like thunder. Now, she sees the sun shining through the small windows above her bed. The thin rays of light that pierce through the cold air feel blissful in her eyes. It kept her awake all night long, and while the storm calmed down after a few hours, Eva couldn’t get herself to sleep. Whatever happened yesterday on the battlefield still haunts her. The questions remain unanswered, even when she has tried to explain the flashbacks all night long. 

Even then, Eva feels the shame building up when she even thinks about getting help.

Suddenly, a pound on the door shakes her. Eva throws her bedsheets towards her feet and steps out. As she puts her bare feet on the floor, she feels shivers of cold running through her. She yawns and taps on the door panel. Instantly, Eva is blinded by the sun shining through the clouds. It makes her feel dizzy and she feels the cold breeze blowing into her. In front of her stands Lieutenant Amitash with some of his men. She immediately straightens her back and clenches her fists. 

“Good morning sir,” Eva greets, squinting her eyes.

“At ease, cadet,” says Amitash. His voice sounds as cold as the sharp wind that whistled last night. “Where is your commander?”

Eva glances over her shoulder and sees Roslin lying in her bed at the far end of the barracks. Her bedsheet is pulled all the way over her head as she lies on her side, facing the wall.

“She’s asleep, sir,” says Eva, looking back at Lieutenant Amitash. 

I wish I could sleep that well.

Amitash smiles a little. “Well then. When she wakes up, tell your commander that you’ve all been called up for duty at 7:00, so within 30 minutes. The storm of yesterday night has left the forest with wounds. We are obligated to inspect the forest for landslides, snapped trees, and those that are at the brink of falling over - things alike. Will you pass that on for me, cadet?”

Eva nods. “Yes sir, will do.”

With that, Amitash walks away and pounds on the door of the next barracks. As the sun shines in her eyes, Eva gazes around and sees what the storm has done. All the dirt roads have turned into a sea of slick mud, and in the far distance on the training ground, some trees have snapped with their carcasses lying on the ground. Nature was truly enraged.

At the scrambling point in the middle of the Army base, the details get more clear. Eva and her squad are appointed to a team of five other squads and a sector to skim out. Immediately, the team is sent out and Eva follows the heels of Roslin as they walk over the mud road towards the treeline. 

Roslin glances over her shoulder. “Peyton, you got the map?”

Peyton catches up as her eyes are peeled at the screen of her datapad. “Yes sir. We got sector six to skim out.”

Peyton hands her datapad to Roslin and gazes at the map.

“What are we looking for exactly?” Roslin asks, looking at the screen.

“Landslides, snapped trees and things alike,” Eva recites Amitash. 

“So, just changes to the landscape?” Roslin asks.

“Yes sir.”

Roslin nods, and after a few seconds, she gives the datapad back to Peyton and points forward. “Sector six is south, one decimal four clicks ahead.”

After a walk of 20 minutes, Eva walks through the forest that surrounds the Army base. The broken twigs crack under her boots. Gazing around, all of the ground has turned into unstable mud, and big branches hang down from their trees. Even when nature’s destruction is everywhere, Eva feels a blissful sensation as she walks through the forest. She inhales deeply through her nose and she can smell the freshness of the leaves. It prickles in her nose. It feels peaceful.

Suddenly, Eva hears the shouting voice of a boy. She glances over her shoulder for a moment and sees a boy waving to his squad. Eva’s eyes land on a tree that snapped, but it has fallen into another tree and is now leaning against it. She sees one of the boys climbing the tree. Peyton, walking next to her, turns around too.

“The hell are they doing?” Peyton asks, dumbfounded. “They’re gonna get themselves injured if that’s gonna fall.”

Eva smirks. “They’ll find that out.”

Peyton smiles. “You want people to suffer here too just like Ashara, don’t you?”

“Well, if you’re stupid, then yeah,” Eva chuckles. 

They continue.

Any changes to the landscape are to be noted and reported to the Lieutenant. When they’re going to train here in this forest, they’ll all be too distracted to watch out for falling trees. Thus, inspecting the trees in their free time before they fall over is the best thing they can do. The Army Engineering Corps will probably remove all the trees on the brink of collapse once their inspection is done.

“That storm yesterday must’ve been very powerful,” remarks Peyton as she gazes around.

“I know,” Eva responds. “We’re lucky that storm wasn’t raging when we were training.”

Peyton smirks. “That would’ve been a disaster.”

Suddenly, she hears some shocked screams and wood crackling. Eva turns around and sees the tree the boys just climbed has fallen over and smashed into the soil. It has almost left an impact crater in the mud as one of the boys stands up and starts cheering.

“We killed the monster!” one shouts.

Peyton sighs with annoyance and glances at Eva. She smirks.

“Boys will be boys,” Peyton remarks with a smile, and they continue walking.

Not just that. Distracting as hell too. Funnily, Peyton seems to agree with that as well.

As they keep on walking, Eva and the squad point at many snapped trees, and each one is registrated by Peyton on her datapad. Checking out the flora is not what Eva expected when she signed up for the military. All she expected was rigorous training to convert her into a weapon, but instead, she’s become a parkranger. Eva smirks a little as she thinks about it. From soldier to parkranger…

“Wait, wait!” Peyton snaps.

The whole squad stops and Eva turns around to the tech girl.

“What is it?” Roslin asks, in front of the pack.

“I’m picking something up,” Peyton mumbles, looking at her screen.

Picking something up. Is it a signal? Eva’s heart starts speeding up in her chest.

Her datapad suddenly beeps. “It’s like some sort of emergency signal. It’s a constant ping.”

Ashara tilts her head in surprise. Her golden facial tattoos shimmer a little. “Could be hikers. Maybe they need help.”

Roslin steps closer. “Can you locate it?”

Peyton nods and looks down. Then, she points in a direction and Peyton starts walking forward. The girl starts leading the squad towards the signal. They walk up hills, pass the remains of landslides, and the corpses of dead trees. Following her, Eva walks down a slope as the hill becomes a little cliff. Suddenly, Peyton stops in her tracks with her eyes staring into a crevice. Eva walks further until she stops next to Peyton’s shoulder, and there, almost like a cave in the cliff, she sees something. Eva’s heart skips a beat as she notices metal plates and wires coming out of a black void. 

“What the hell is that?” Eva nearly whispers as the rest of the squad catches up.

“Dank Ferrik, it’s a starship,” Peyton responds.

That’s when Eva connects the dots. She recognises whatever is in front of her is the part of a large starship, snapped in half. The black void in the cliff is the dark corridor of the ship. The wreckage is tucked away under a hill except for this passage.

“Has this always been here?” Roslin asks, barely above a whisper.

Peyton looks down at her datapad. “No. It doesn’t show up on the map or the list.”

“So this is new?” Eva asks. “No one ever saw this? We’re the first to find this?”

Peyton looks up at her and nods. “Yeah. A landslide must have uncovered it.”

Then if the storm truly made this ship reappear, then for how long has this been lying here? How long has this starship been hiding under the ground? Slowly, the dread starts gripping her and Eva feels her heart starting to pound in her chest. The corridor of the ship looks as dark as an ice cave. It brutally contrasts the sunlight outside as if it’s a portal to a dimension of the underworld. Eva can’t help but stare into the darkness, captivated by the secret it’s holding.

Roslin breaks her stare at the crevice and looks at Peyton. “We should report this immediately once we get back.”

“No,” Ashara snaps. 

The Pantoran steps forward and gazes at the crevice.

“We should go inside,” says Ashara, and she turns around. “What if a hiker took shelter here last night? Maybe there are bodies here that are waiting to be found.”

“I rather not think about that,” Roslin responds.

Ashara steps towards her. “Commander, imagine your body lying in a wreckage for, I don’t know, hundreds of years and never be found until this day. It's agony to wait this long for your body to be finally given a name.” 

Eva suddenly feels a cold shiver down her spine. She can’t imagine her own body, hidden away in a dark wreckage for centuries until two stars hit each other. Ashara has a point. They have to go inside and search for anyone, dead or alive, residing inside of it. 

Eva can see Roslin’s mind cracking until she looks at her and Peyton.

“Get your blasters and activate the flashlight,” Roslin commands. “We’re going in.”

“Yes sir,” say Eva and Peyton.

Eva grasps her E-10 blaster and activates the flashlight sitting next to the barrel. With a source of light, Eva carefully follows Roslin and Peyton into the wreckage. She steps into the darkness and she shivers from the cold. Not just any cold, but the cold of the darkness. Lighting the way forward, she can’t even see her own feet.

The floor is cracked and covered in a thin layer of dust. Parts of the walls are blackened like charcoal, and the ceiling lights hang down along with their cables. This ship must have been lying here for an eternity. 

Eva slides with her finger over the lines inscribed in the wall. She can feel each dust particle pricking her skin. This ship is a relic. 

Suddenly, Peyton and Roslin stop in their tracks. Peyton’s gasp echoes through the darkness and her flashlight shivers. Eva catches up with her and glances over her shoulder, wanting to know what she found. Her eyes land on two enormous skeletons. They’re almost half as tall as she is, probably even taller than Roslin. Her lungs shudder with shock. They’ve found remains.

“Those are huge skeletons,” Peyton’s voice shivers.

“I know,” Roslin whispers. “Too big for a human. Ashara, check them out.”

Ashara lets out a shivering sigh. 

“Skorvit,” she whispers, and with hesitance, Ashara steps forward and approaches one of the skeletons.

She lowers herself to the floor as Eva waits nervously. Amidst her pounding heart, she can hear the ceiling above her squeaking. Slowly, she starts regretting having ever taken a step into this ship. Dank Ferrik. Why did we have to do this? This is a kriffin’ dangerzone that’s about to collapse.

Ashara turns around with wide pupils. “They’re Trandoshans.”

What? She raises her eyebrows. She knows some species but this one doesn’t ring any bells. 

“What’s that?” Eva asks.

“It’s one of those lizard people,” Ashara responds.

Oh shit, one of those . Now Eva realises what Ashara meant. The Trandoshans, or the lizard people , is an alien species of insanely tall reptilians. Coming from the swampy planet of Trandosha, the Trandoshans are known for their highly praised skill in hunting. Aside from being tall and intelligent, they’re very strong too. The Trandoshans are the only kind of people the Wookiees fear, and rightfully so. Their skin is as tough as stone and their muscles are powerful enough to rip off the limbs of their enemy in a quick move. They’re not to be reckoned with, and with a shiver, Eva is nailed to the ground. 

Ashara on the other hand, doesn’t seem so scared at all.

“Quite interesting actually,” says Ashara, looking back at the skeleton. “They got bones harder than concrete and their teeth are sharper than Beskar blades. Wanna see it from up close? It’s really cool.”

“No, thanks,” Eva responds with a shiver.

“Don’t worry, it’s dead,” Ashara replies.

Eva smirks. “Yeah, thanks for clearing that up.”

Ashara smiles and she looks back at the barren skeletons. Gazing at them, Eva wonders what a Trandoshan ship is doing here in the forests of Vaulent 6. Why did it crash down here? What were they doing? The only answer Eva can come up with is a hunt. A hunt that had gone terribly wrong. But a hunt for what?

“GUYS!”

Suddenly, Ecklund’s shouting voice echoes through the darkness and Eva shakes. She instantly turns around and sees Ecklund stepping out of a doorway into the corridor. Her pale face is a ghost in the darkness. Her flashlight is shivering as she looks at the squad, gasping for air.

“Guys, you gotta see this,” says Ecklund.

The anxiety suddenly zaps through her as Eva notices the big, wide eyes behind Ecklund’s glasses. With burning nerves, Eva follows Ecklund’s silhouette through the darkness. She clenches her blaster as Eva steps through a doorway into an adjacent room. And there, right in front of her, stands something that makes her shiver.

Eva’s eyes land on a chamber that holds a large coffin of carbonite. In it, she sees the contours of the body of a person, frozen in carbonite. The steel-like material reflects her flashlight, but she can clearly see it’s a person, frozen in an eternal coffin of carbon ice.

“We have to get her out of there,” says Ashara, her voice shivering. “Peyton, can you free her?”

Peyton nods. “Yeah. I’ll get to work.”

With her heart pounding in her chest, Eva watches as Peyton steps into the chamber and scans the side panel of the carbonite coffin. 

While Peyton gets to work, Eva leans a bit towards Ashara. “Maybe we need a transport to get her to the Medbay. I’m not gonna carry her all the way there.”

Ashara nods. “Yeah, I’ll call them in.”

She walks out of the room while the others remain. Amidst her pounding heart, Eva hears some beeps coming from Peyton as the girl taps some buttons. However, Eva notices the weird look on her face. She wonders what’s wrong.

“Hey Peyt, is it working?” Eva asks.

Peyton keeps her eyes peeled on the side panel as her fingers slide all over the place.

“This is very, very old tech,” Peyton responds. “Like at least a century old, but I got it. It’s just more manual than automatic.”

Eva nods. At least a century old? Does that mean this ship is a century old?

Then, the carbonite coffin suddenly hisses and Eva sees a white cloud spewing out of the chamber. Lights flash and Peyton hurdles away. The contours of the frozen body start glowing red as the carbonite heats up and defrosts. Gaps burn through the carbonite with rays of light as bright as supernovae spewing out. They burn in her eyes and Eva looks away. In the corner of her eye, she sees the carbonite defrosting and the trapped body finally becomes visible. The rays of light reveal the body of a girl. She has lavender-purple skin and lekkus hanging down from her head. To Eva’s surprise, the girl isn’t just any girl. It’s a Twi’lek with brown and white robes, frozen in place for perhaps decades.

Chapter Text

As the hospital bed hovers into the Medroom at Malstrom Base with Ashara leading it, Eva can’t get her eyes off of the Twi’lek castaway. Her exotic, lavender skin hypnotises her. Somehow, this alien tailhead has been hiding below Vaulent’s soil for years, years, and years. And all that time, she’s been kept alive, breathing and sleeping peacefully. How long has she really been sleeping? How has she been kept alive for so long? 

In the Medroom of the bay, Eva stands in the corner of the room, half enshrouded in the shadow of a closet, looking at Ashara jabbing a hypospray into the Twi’lek’s arm. Her questions continue to whisper to her from the dark corners. Eva tries to focus on the little beeps and whirs of the life support systems, but she can’t drown out her questions. They keep whispering to her like magic spells from an old book.

“What are you doing here?” Ashara asks, breaking through the whispers, her eyes focused on the needle. “Your duty is over.”

“I know,” Eva responds. “I’m just-, exploding with questions. I can’t keep them quiet.”

Ashara hums. “She had a bag with her. It’s on the counter behind me. Maybe you can search it for something interesting.”

Eva nods. She sees the bag, made of rugged cotton, sitting on a clean counter behind Ashara. Eva walks towards it, detaches her blaster from her waist and puts it down on the counter, and tugs the bag’s cotton. Each thread prickles gently in her fingers. It looks like something Eline would make at Scouting; crudely, yet carefully made, as if someone twisted the harmony of nature with their fingertips. 

I should visit Eline again soon, Eva reminds herself. The Army hasn’t been so generous yet at giving her a permitted leave.

As she looks at the content stashed away in the bag, Eva takes out some old, busted devices that look like they better belong at the trash incinerator. She also finds a small, shining cube. She fidgets it around in her hand a little. It doesn’t seem to have controls or anything else that tells her what it does. It looks worthless, but at the same time, highly valuable. Eva follows the lines inscribed in the cube with her finger. They are drawn elegantly over the cube with precision. She’s clueless about what it could be.

“Found anything?” Ashara asks, looking at her.

Eva turns around to her. “Only a worthless cube,” and she throws it to Ashara.

The girl catches it with her hand and inspects it with her golden eyes. As her blue fingers swipe over the cube, Eva notices a glimmer on Ashara’s throat. It’s a necklace, shining in the light, one she’s never seen Ashara wear before.

“You got a new necklace?” Eva asks, curious.

Ashara looks up from the cube with a little smile. “Yeah. You like it?”

“Yeah, where did you get it?” Eva asks.

Ashara blushes and her cheeks turn a little red. “They-, uh, found my old stuff in my apartment,” Ashara stammers, stumbling over her words a little. “So, that’s where I got it from.”

Eva nods. 

The stumble over her words hits Eva a little as something strange. Ashara doesn’t seem so comfortable about telling it. It almost sounds like she’s hiding behind her words. It raises a memory from the depths and Eva recalls when she asked Ashara about her bail-out in the middle of the night. It raised questions about her new free time rituals and her Rebel suspicions. She seems to have the same response; stumbling and seemingly searching for the right words, something Ashara wouldn’t do when nothing is at play. Eva knows her all too well. Ashara is the complete opposite of Ecklund一always having the right words at any moment. Something whispers to Eva that there’s a correlation hidden somewhere. 

Intrigued, Eva approaches Ashara and walks around the hospital bed to face her. Looking at her, Ashara draws her finger over one of the lines inscribed in the cube.

“This reminds me of Ashkora’mi,” Ashara mumbles. “At home, we used to pray to holy artefacts to worship the Empress of the Moons. We called her Ashkora’mi.”

Ashara holds it out for Eva to take back.

“You were religious?” Eva asks, fidgeting the cube in her fingers.

Ashara hums with a nod. “Mother and I prayed at sacred places since I was four. We worshipped Ashkora’mi almost every day.” Her voice becomes a bit dreamy as her glassy eyes stare into oblivion. “We prayed whenever Pantora was in crisis. In those times, we asked for advice from the Moons to light the way ahead through dark nights. Through dark nights to better times.”

“Really?” Eva responds.  “I can’t imagine myself worshipping a space rock in the sky.”

Ashara presses her lips and looks down, almost as if she didn’t like Eva’s comment. Kriff me. Shouldn’t have said that.

Eva looks at the cube in her hands, quickly redirecting the conversation. “What should we do with it?”

Ashara shrugs. “I don’t know. I think we should just store it until she wakes up,” and she points at the unconscious Twi’lek. “She probably knows what it’s for.”

Eva nods. She aims for the counter and throws the cube onto it with a bang. It flips a few times until it comes to a stop.

“You still worship the moons?” Eva asks.

Ashara shakes her head. “Not anymore. Can’t do that these days.”

“Why not?” Eva asks. “Too far from home?”

“No. Ashkora’mi is always looking, no matter where I am,” Ashara responds.

“Then what is it?” Eva asks.

Ashara sighs, her eyes drifting away. “You wouldn’t understand.”

“Try me.”

Ashara presses her lips and twists her finger on the railing of the hospital bed. “The Empire isn’t really happy with us being around,” she says, slowly. “The Empire regards your species as the number one of the galaxy. Humans first. But… I’m a Pantoran. I’m not like you.”

“Why not?” Eva asks.

Ashara shrugs. “I don’t know. Maybe they don’t take alien religions very well.”

Eva nods. “Okay. I’d get why. I mean, religion shouldn’t lead a government or a galaxy. Superstition limits our capabilities.”

Ashara’s eyes twinkle with discomfort. “Yeah, I get that, but it’s not like we let it lead millions of other lives. Sure, there are some people who take religion and Ashkora’mi very seriously, but not everyone does. Most people use it as an extra beacon of light.”

Eva nods. “Okay.”

“And it’s not just religion,” adds Ashara. “It’s not that I hate or stand against the Empire, but sometimes, it’s hard to work with superiors or colleagues who view me as a pet. They just think I’m inferior, as if I’m stupid. I never tell these things, but sometimes, when I have to report to Command with other squad medics, they just look down on me when I’m praised or propose something,” and she scoffs. “Sharp eyes at me, sighs, chuckles behind my back, annoying comments… Sometimes, it’s really frustrating.”

“Really?” Eva asks. “I’m-, I’m sorry that it happens to you.”

Ashara shakes her head. “It’s just the rotten meilooruns. They’re rare, but when I meet them, they’re really rotten. Sour and disgusting.”

“Why?”

“I don’t know. Can’t read their minds. They probably don’t like it when I take the praise that they think doesn’t belong to me. They don’t like it when I, a second-rank alien, do it better than them. And we’re all unranked. We’re still cadets. I’m not sure how bad it will be once we all have to climb the ranks. And it’s not just teens like us. It’s the officers too. The taskmasters at the Academy and Lieutenant Amitash for example, they keep calling me alien or bluehead . Gratefully, the adults just keep it at that and don’t go further, but it’s still annoying.”

Eva nods, looking away with unease. That’s not fun.

Ashara smirks. “Fun to be restricted from some of my freedom, right?”

Eva hums. “Right. How are you able to work like that?”

Ashara shrugs with a sigh. “I don’t know. I’ve grown immune to them, I guess.”

Eva’s eyes drift away. The Empire doesn’t seem so soft for her as it is for Ashara. She understands why the Empire doesn’t want religion to lead their way. It sometimes make people believe in things that blur the line between reality and fiction. At times, the Empire needs to draw a straight line with an iron hand, something holding onto superstitions might hinder. This is reflected onto its citizens. Eva doesn’t care much about it, but the direction of the Empire is something she can stand behind. 

The condescending behaviour of some cadets and superiors… well, that’s just bad, and Eva can’t understand why they’re so sour. At the end, they’re all loyal, aspiring soldiers, fighting for a common cause. Luckily, they’re rare, but it seems like they shout the loudest, particularly at Ashara.

Now that Ashara indicated her position, Eva suddenly starts feeling something in her head. It’s a burning sensation of a scorching question she put away not long ago. Eva’s suspicion of Ashara being a Rebel spy starts burning, and now, the girl has even given her a motive一being treated differently by those who stand next to her or have more power within the Empire. The Rebel Alliance is full of people who experience this. They’re not all blood-hungry terrorists, murderers, hijackers and robbers. Some of them have a rightful motive to fight. The only thing that makes Ashara distinct is her sour view of the Rebels ever since their air raid on the Capital that made her an orphan, like her and most others at the Academy. However, even with flaws, her Rebel theory is now shouting at her, having ceased whispering.

While Ashara moves on, tilting the screen of the life support systems towards her with a single, soft tap of her fingers, Eva starts biting her lips with anxiety. Her heart starts pounding in her chest and she inhales deeply through her nose, trying to calm herself down.

“Ashara. You got any free time rituals?” Eva stammers.

Ashara looks up. “Free time rituals? Well, usually, I resort to reading some books I borrow from the library, if homework allows me to.”

“What are you reading?” Eva asks.

“I just finished Dead Hyperspace ,” Ashara responds. “Great story. If it didn’t have such a tragic ending.”

Dead Hyperspace , a name Eva hasn’t heard in a long time. That novel was the key to finding the identity of the Spy. Its last passage gave her enough hints that it led her directly to the Rebel hide-out where she discovered the Spy was Lu all along. Her search was the same story with a tragic ending. It almost makes Eva shed a tear but she holds it in, just barely.

“I know,” Eva responds. “I’ve read it in some other perspective,” and she sighs. “Tragic indeed.”

Ashara nods. “Yeah. Quite cool to see how the hyperdrive was invented in the story though. It’s such a common device that we rarely think about its story. Other times, I draw Pantora from memory. I’m not great at it, but it can pass. You?”

“Beat the shit out of a punching bag,” Eva smirks. “Nah, sometimes I do that. Usually, I do stretching exercises. It really clears my mind before and after our training sessions down the Well or the SimArena. Other times, it’s blaster training.”

Ashara tilts her head with a smile. “Always preparing for the big war, huh?” 

Eva hums with a nod. “Always… What do you do outside the Academy? I noticed you were gone from time to time.”

Ashara’s eyes twinkle and she presses her lips. “Yeah, okay?”

“Your new free time ritual interests me,” Eva responds. “I walked down the corridors when I overheard something you said at the Academy. You said you were going to meet someone. Same night, you were gone. Two days later, you left us at combat training feeling ill.”

“Yeah,” Ashara responds. “I was sick, yeah.”

“But it was something even ACY didn’t know about,” Eva replies. “You told none of us. And Roslin punched her fist into my jaws so I needed you to check it out. I went searching and heard from Ecklund and someone else that you left the Academy on a speederbike.”

Eva sees Ashara’s eyes drifting away. There, in the corners of Ashara’s golden eyes, Eva sees a twinkle of discomfort. 

Ashara sighs with a shiver. “Yes. I left the Academy. Sometimes I need some time on my own. You don’t need to spy on me to figure that out.” 

“Time on your own on a speederbike?” Eva asks. “Who’s so willing to drive for you? Academy Command might think you’ve gone AWOL.”

“No, they don’t-, why does this actually matter so much to you?” Ashara asks. “Did I swear at Empire Day?”

“No,” Eva sighs. “It’s not that bad. It just hit me as something strange because you kept hiding it. You lied when I asked you why you got up in the middle of the night. All that made me think you could be a Rebel spy-, you know, bailing out.”

Ashara’s eyes widen. “You suspected me of treason?”

“I didn’t,” Eva stammers. “It was just some thought. I never believed you were,”

“Eva, how paranoid are you?” Ashara snaps. “I’m not a Rebel. I left because I have a boyfriend.”

You-, what?

Eva tilts her head in surprise. Her heart stops. “A boyfriend?” she stammers. 

She never considered that option as a possibility. Now it makes sense, escaping the rigid Academy to feel comfortable in the presence of someone who loves her. Deep within, Eva feels grateful for Ashara to have found a soulmate. It’s lovely, but Eva feels it’s not right when there’s a duty that calls for her full attention. Ashara left the squad alone during training to be with her lover while Eva needed her and that hits her badly in her stomach.

“I never told it to anyone because I’m not sure how the rest would respond to me bailing out,” Ashara responds, “but is it so, so wrong?”

“No,” Eva responds, “but don’t you think it’s distracting?”

“It isn’t bad,” Ashara responds.

“It is bad if it goes against your duty,” Eva asks. “You evaded the combat training to be with your lover. I was punched in the jaw and I needed you, even if I simply needed some meds to take or some eyes. Your boyfriend distracts you from the things that matter.”

“Eva,” Ashara snaps. “My feelings matter. I know it sounds selfish, but you don’t know how I’m feeling. I feel like the Academy has trapped me. They are forcing me to constantly be on duty, but I can’t. Some look down on me. I can’t take that. I want to feel like I’m still alive. I want to make mistakes where it doesn’t matter. I want to feel my heart rushing without having to fight for my life. My boyfriend truly understands what I’m feeling and he’s someone to whom I can vent my frustrations. I yearn for a bit of freedom, and I feel like that’s not possible here. I can worship Ashkora’mi without some eyes looking down on me like you.”

“Like me?” Eva blurts out. “I wasn’t condescending to you!”

“You called Ashkora’mi a religion that prays to a space rock,” Ashara snaps.

“That-, okay, I’m sorry for that comment. I didn’t mean to be rude, I’m not like them.”

“It’s fine,” Ashara responds. “I get that it was a joke. Sometimes, jokes don’t land well and that’s fine. Joke about anything you want and I won’t judge, but sometimes, they’re so, so rude that it hurts me. And they all know it. They do it because it hurts me.”

She sees Ashara nearly burst into tears, barely holding them in. Her frustration strikes her heart like a dagger, feeling her pain. Yet, even when it seems to strike a friend, it still seems so distant. It’s believable, but Eva has never felt that her own comrades speak so hostile towards her. She just can’t put herself in the position of Ashara. It’s just too strange to her.

Eva glances down at the hospital bed, pressing her lips with pity .“I’m really sorry.”

Ashara reaches out to her and runs her cold knuckle down Eva’s cheek. “I’m sorry that I wasn’t there at combat training. I understand you needed me there, but I just needed to escape this world and live my life.”

“I get it, but it’s not an excuse to evade your duty,” Eva barely whispers.

“Maybe not for you,” Ashara responds, “but I’m not a senseless tool. You aren’t either.”

“You’re wrong,” Eva snaps. “We’re no soldiers if we’re no tools. We’re the setpieces on a boardgame so the Emperor doesn’t fall. We’re here to be made into tools to be put forward to defend home.”

Ashara looks away and shakes her head, recognising there’s no point in arguing. “Never mind, then,” and she retracts her knuckle from Eva’s cheek, grasps her datapad and prepares to leave. “I have to report my findings to the top. The Lieutenant is waiting for me. You can stay here and think about what you said.”

After a last glance, Ashara opens the door and walks out of the Medroom, closing the door behind her. She leaves Eva behind amidst the constant beeps of the life support. 

Eva sighs with unease and regret making her lungs shiver. I didn’t mean to be rude. I’m sorry. I just wanted to know what you were hiding. 

Even when Ashara’s words echo through her mind, Eva still can’t find common ground. Love is distracting. It has no place in a world where everything depends on a perfectly, empty and undistraught mindset. Soldiers are tools. They align with each other perfectly as the gears of the Imperial war machine. A little distraction can make everything fall.

However, Eva recognises it might be better to apologise for her carelessly chosen words. Perhaps she should’ve sounded a bit more open-minded or tolerant, even if it went against her belief.

Waiting for Ashara to return from her debriefing, Eva continues to search the Twi’lek’s belongings.  While her hands rummage through the bag, she thinks of what to say when Ashara comes back. Just a sorry? Maybe she’ll have to explain her wrongdoings? Her side of the story? She isn’t sure. Meanwhile, her hands clasp various objects that seem to hold no correlation with each other. She shoves her blaster away to make some space for the strange items: a heavily weathered flask, a busted holoprojector, and an old beacon transceiver, broken beyond use. Who needs these things?

Then, her hands brush against something smooth and cylindrical. It feels different from all the other rusty and busted items. Eva takes it out of the bag and reveals a slender, cylindrical hilt. The soft shine mesmerises her as Eva draws her finger over the hilt. She can feel it’s a cold, polished metal until her fingers draw over a tactile grip in the middle. Its simple, yet magical-seeming design gives Eva the feeling as if it comes out of some sort of fairytale. Eva can’t understand why this metal hilt feels like that. Perhaps Peyton knows more about this piece of tech.

Eva moves her wristlink to her chin. “Peyt, you copy?”

“Loud and clear,” Peyton’s voice crackles.

“Hey. I found some tech you might find interesting,” says Eva, fidgeting with the hilt in her other hand. “I can’t really describe it, so could you come to Medroom six and help me identify it?”

“Yeah,” Peyton responds. “I’ll be on my way.”

“Alright, see you soon,” and Eva disables her wristlink.

She looks back at the hilt, nearly hypnotised by its magical look. Just what is this?

“Give back my lightsaber.”

Eva’s heart plummets in her chest and she turns around. Her eyes land on the Twi’lek girl, now standing right in front of her with steady, bright pink eyes. Her brown-white robes hang down, almost like a heroic cape or a villainous cloak. She holds her oxygen mask in her lavender-purple hand with the tube hanging down, dragging over the floor like a snake. Eva grasps her blaster from the counter and points it at the Twi’lek with the hilt in her other hand.

“Dank Ferrik, what are you doing?” Eva stammers, her voice shaking.

The Twi’lek doesn’t answer. Eva can feel her eyes staring straight into her soul and she feels a shiver down her spine.

“Get back,” Eva demands, pointing with her blaster at the empty hospital bed. “The doctor is on the way.”

The Twi’lek inhales deeply through her nose. “Give back my lightsaber.”

“Lightsaber?” Eva asks. She then makes the connection and fidgets the hilt a little in her hand. “You mean this?”

The Twi’lek reaches out with her hand. “Yes. It’s mine. I want it back.”

The girl’s voice sounds so calming, so soothing that it cuts through the air between her and Eva. The Twi’lek’s voice moves mountains and calms hurricanes.

Eva shakes her head. “No. We just freed you from a carbonite chamber. You should be checked by a doctor.”

Eva sticks the hilt into her trousers and brushes against her underpants as she keeps the Twi’lek at gunshot, ensuring she won’t get it. The Twi’lek narrows her pink eyes and steps towards her.

“Stay back or I-,”

“I’m demanding from you nicely, one last time,” the Twi’lek snaps. “Give back my lightsaber,”

“No,” Eva responds. “I’m serious, you really need to be checked. It’s safe here. It’s an Army base. If there’s anything you fear, we will protect you from it. You’re safe, I promise. Now, get back to the bed. As I said, the doctor is coming.”

However, the Twi’lek doesn’t comply with her orders. The tailhead steps towards her as Eva’s blaster shakes in her hand. She doesn’t want to shoot the girl, but in a flashing second, she knows she has to do it for her own safety and that of the Twi’lek. She can’t leave without a medical check first. She can have something like internal wounds or an infection that, if left unchecked, can result in death. This Twi’lek has to stay here, no matter what. Slowly, Eva’s finger crawls closer to the trigger, getting ready to stun the Twi’lek.

Okay, okay. Blasted hell. I’m doing it-

But before she can, the Twi’lek sweeps with her hand and Eva’s blaster is yanked out of her hand. It clatters against the wall and vanishes into the dark corner of the room and Eva gasps. Disarmed, Eva focuses her eyes on the Twi’lek. She can’t believe what happened. First, she had her blaster, peeled in her hand, a second later, gone, yanked out of her hand by an invisible force. There is no time to dwell on it though. Eva clenches her fists and lashes out. The Twi’lek blocks Eva’s first blow. In a swift move, the Twi’lek snatches Eva’s arm and throws her to the other side of the room as if she’s as light as a pillow. Eva smacks into the hospital bed and her back is rippled with pain. She groans and gets up. The Twi’lek gets closer.

She has to get her under control. What did Capital Police teach her that one day at Steel Crane Plaza? Dank Ferrik , only patrolling duty. It was just a chore that day and less of a lecture.

Eva’s eyes land on the hovering hospital bed. In a split second, she figures that immobilising her with a heavy blow of steel in her knees might do the trick. She reaches out for the bed’s control panel, releases the brakes and kicks it towards the Twi’lek with her foot. But instead, as the bed races towards her, the Twi’lek sweeps her hand up. The bed is blown up and crashes into the ceiling. Eva’s heart sinks and she stumbles backwards onto the floor, shocked. The lights flicker as the bed crashes down and ceiling plates clatter on the floor, sending shockwaves all across the room.

On the floor with shock, Eva looks at the Twi’lek standing before her as if she’s waiting for her to surrender. Eva can’t yet believe what she just witnessed and freezes. The Twi’lek obliterated the bed with a single sweep of her hand without even touching it. With a shiver down her spine, Eva’s pupils widen with fear as she slowly gets up.

“What-, what power do you have?” Eva stammers, her voice shivering.

The Twi’lek sighs. “Just give back my lightsaber and we’re done.”

“You’ll get it back later,” Eva responds. “Not to be rude, but you need help.”

The Twi’lek inhales deeply through her nose. “You are really, really playing with my patience here.”

“I just can’t let you go freely with a possible sickness of some sort,” says Eva. “Don’t you get me?”

The girl steps towards her and Eva clenches her hands into fists. She can’t allow this alien girl to get away without Ashara’s check first. But the Twi’lek is unyieldingly stubborn and hostile. Even if it means a fight, Eva can’t let the Twi’lek go. She takes a deep breath, steps towards her and lashes out. The Twi’lek dashes away and dodges her fist. Before Eva can react, the girl dashes towards her and kicks her kneecap. Eva screams. She drops to her knees and feels a pound in her jaw. Eva flies off of her knees and crashes into a cabinet. The meds inside it rattle as Eva collapses to the floor and grasps her jaw. It’s burning with agony and Eva can barely hold it in.

“Just give up already,” says the Twi’lek. “That would make this so much easier for you and me.”

As the Twi’lek steps closer, Eva notices an open canister in the corner of her eye, lying below the busted bed. The label says anaesthesia with a hypospray inside of it. It has a needle to inject a substance into the veins of a person to tranquilise one. Eva realises she can immobilise the girl without having to pound a fist into her skull. All it takes is a single jab of that needle into her blood vessels. She sees the Twi’lek is coming close enough to punch that hypospray into her and get her back under control. For a moment, she questions whether it will work, but she goes for it.

Eva reaches out and grasps the needle. The Twi’lek drops to her knees and Eva sweeps the hypospray towards her. But in a swift movement, the Twi’lek blocks Eva’s hand, twists it around, and punches the needle into Eva’s chest before she can react. Her heart freezes. Time stops. The substance is slowly seeping into her body. Horrified, her pupils widen as Eva shifts her eyes to the Twi’lek. Her hands clasp the syringe and she pulls it out of her body. 

“No,” Eva gasps, her lungs burning. “What have you done?”

The substance starts kicking in and Eva feels like she’s falling into the abyss. The dark void dances around the edges of her vision as her legs can barely hold her upright. Eva’s lungs burn with each gasp she takes, and as the darkness sweeps around her, she collapses to the floor with a bang.

The Twi’lek grasps Eva’s collar and lifts her up. She looks straight into her soul. “There’s no time for checks. The Council needs to be informed about my mission. There’s no time to be wasted.”

The Twi’lek sweeps with her hand and Eva feels the cold hilt sliding out of her trousers. The lightsaber flies into the Twi’lek’s hand in a flash.

“Your concern is unwarranted,” says the Twi’lek. “But thank you nonetheless. I would have taken your medical service with pleasure if this mission wasn’t so urgent.”

The Twi’lek lets go of her collar and Eva collapses back onto the floor. The dark void entangles her and she can no longer feel her muscles. The ceiling lights above her blur and turn into faint rings. Before she loses her touch with reality, Eva sees the blast door sliding open with Ashara standing in the doorway. She feels a spark inside of her.

“Ashara,” Eva wheezes, but her eyelids close and she passes out before she can warn her…

Chapter Text

Peyton shudders. She hears a wrenching scream echoing through the hallway. It’s quickly silenced by the sound of a splattering slash.

What the hell was that? 

Peyton gasps for air. Eva called her to check something out. She said it was some piece of tech she found, but Peyton didn’t expect to hear a bloodcurdling scream ahead of her. Worried, Peyton taps on her E-10 hanging on her belt to check if it’s there.

Dank Ferrik, I got it. Phew.

Peyton’s heart pounds in her chest as she walks on with careful steps. She keeps her hand on her blaster, afraid of what’s on her path. Peyton turns into another corridor and steps onto something. She looks down and sees the severed limb of an Army trooper. Her nerves ignite with anxiety and she jumps back. The hell happened here?

She shivers as her eyes land on the countless, dead troopers scattered across the floor. At the end of the corridor, Peyton sees a lavender-purple Twi’lek with a yellow lightsaber in her hand. It roars with fury as Peyton’s muscles cramp in, unable to move. To her shock, she recognises the Twi’lek as the one she freed from her carbonite coffin. First, she was a castaway they found in an old wreckage. Now, she’s on a rampage.

In front of the Twi’lek lies a trooper, gasping for air and his voice shivering as his slayer lashes out and slices his head off with a slash. Peyton shudders and pulls out her blaster. She aims and fires. The Twi’lek turns around, sweeps with her lightsaber, deflects the blaster bolts and raises her hand towards her. In an instant, Peyton feels something grasping her throat. She explodes forward with her feet slipping over the floor. The Twi’lek sweeps with her hand and Peyton is blasted into the wall. She collapses and Peyton’s world spins out of control with pain all over her body. In the corner of her eye, she sees the Twi’lek walking towards her with focused eyes. Peyton gazes around but her blaster lies too far away to reach. She realises she’s powerless and defenseless. Crawling away with burning nerves, Peyton looks with watery eyes at the Twi’lek and bumps into the wall.

The Twi’lek lashes out and Peyton gasps with terror. She feels the yellow saber burning below her chin as the Twi’lek holds it there with a steady hand. It scorches her skin like a blaze, and she fears whatever the tailhead might do to her with this. Severing her head off, that’s what, and it’s the only thought that races through her mind. Feeling the tears forming in her eyes, Peyton looks in the eyes of a monster, ready to kill her.

Instead, the Twi’lek does nothing. The yellow saber vanishes into her hilt and she hangs it to her waist belt. The scorching atmosphere turns tensely silent while Peyton stares at her with wide pupils.

“You seem like someone who would help me,” says the Twi’lek, calm yet menacing. “I know that this is a military base. I don’t want to leave with flames in my wake, so, advice me on how I can escape effortlessly.”

Shivering, Peyton shakes her head, with a heavy knot in her throat, unable to speak. She can’t let this demonic tailhead go.

The Twi’lek sighs and sweeps with her hand elegantly. “You will advice me on how I can escape this base without effort”

Peyton clenches her jaws. She feels something settling in her head, something grasping her. It feels like a peaceful sunset happening before her, but she shoves it off. Trembling, she shakes her head.

“No,” Peyton stammers, barely whispering. “No. I can’t.”

The Twi’lek closes her eyes and lets out a faint sigh. She sweeps her hand again. “You will advice me on how I can escape this base without effort.”

The words start sinking in. Peyton feels something heavy, yet blissful settling in her mind. Her tears dry up and Peyton’s heart calms down. She swallows as she looks up with watery eyes. The Twi’lek’s voice calms down the hurricane around her.

“I will advice you on how to escape this base without effort,” Peyton responds, nearly monotone. “The Medbay has a backdoor. There are buildings to hide in their shadows. You will end up in the forest where you can escape. Do it right and no one will see you.”

The Twi’lek nods and smiles. “Thank you,” and she walks off, leaving behind the whirlwind of chaos she caused.

Her mind is released and Peyton grasps reality. She can finally breathe and gasps for air as she curls up on the floor. Her memories drain away and her head hurts, leaving her dizzy and disoriented. Blips of what just happened remain in her mind and Peyton squeezes herself in her arms, unable to process what just happened. That Twi’lek wielded something that swept her over the floor effortlessly. The invisible pull forward felt like she was leashed to a shrieking TIE Fighter. What kind of power did she wield? She doesn’t know what and Peyton feels like she’s sounding like a maniac on spice. All she knows is that she’s lucky she survived. That Twi’lek was a monster.

***

Slowly, the Medroom blurs into focus. The sterile scent prickles in her nose as consciousness gradually returns. The overhead lights ache in her eyes and Eva blinks. She feels a mild headache pulsating in her mind like a burn. She takes a big gasp of air as the memories flood back. They rush back as violently as the crash she made into the cabinet when the Twi’lek played with her like she was a toy. Eva puts her hand on her face, feeling the shame, the frustration, and the fear whirling in her mind.

“Blasted,” Eva whispers.

Eva remembers the Twi’lek as the images flash before her eyes. The girl had disproportionate reflexes. The second her finger crawled closer to the trigger, she disarmed Eva with a single sweep of her hand. That girl overpowered her in an instant. It leaves Eva behind, shaken and afraid.

Eva sees the face of Ashara leaning forward, looking at her as she rubs Eva’s cheeks. Her blue fingers are cold and Eva feels relieved to feel them.

“Hey,” Ashara greets with a thin smile. “Welcome back to the overworld. How do you feel?”

“Bad,” Eva sighs, barely whispering. “What happened?”

Eva pushes herself up from the stretcher and Ashara gives her a hand. Her back feels sore by the slam she made into the hospital bed.

Ashara chuckles. “You sent yourself to Corellia with a hypospray. It was a full dose of Hypothantonol. Pretty strong of a drug you knocked yourself out with.”

Hypospray? The fragments then hit back. She remembers the thud the syringe made when the Twi’lek smashed it into her chest. Eva’s lungs shudder with distress.

“Right,” Eva stammers. “I was inspecting her bag when she stood up out of a sudden. I tried to stop her, but…”

Eva stops. Ashara already knows what the outcome is, and Eva feels ashamed of it. It was an unfortunate accident, but it is enough to make her cheeks burn.

Ashara nods. She grasps the Medisensor and scans her body temperature with a faint laser line on Eva’s forehead. “I let her go. I came in and I saw her, here with your unconscious body in her hand and a lasersword in the other. She held it to your throat and demanded that I let her escape. It seemed like all she wanted was to get out alive. She even said ‘please’ with the voice of a Loth kitty, so I exchanged your life for her freedom.”

She wanted to kill me? Blast it. A surge of sweet relief rushes through her veins and Eva smiles. “Thanks.”

Ashara nods with a smile. “At your service,” and she focuses her eyes on the Medisensor as its screen illuminates her face. “You have a fever.”

“Is it bad?” Eva asks.

Ashara puts the Medisensor aside and shakes her head. “No, not in the sense of an emergency at least. It’s the usual side effect of a full dose of Hypothantonol. I administered an antidote to your blood vessels to counteract it. But it’s gonna take some time until all of it is gone.”

Ashara grabs a little jar and pushes it into Eva’s hands. “Got you a prescription. Take two every day until your fever is over. Start with one capsule today and start taking two tomorrow. Can be taken all at once or spread evenly over the day.”

Eva nods and looks at the label. So, it’s gonna be swallowing rock-hard pills every day. How fun.

Clenching the meds in her hands, the fragments of her earlier conversation with Ashara rush in. Eva remembers the frustration that came out of Ashara when she confronted her about love and duty.

As she passes the body bags of Army troopers in the adjacent corridor, Eva feels remorse building up. She recognises that perhaps, she sounded too hostile. It wasn’t her intention, but it was definitely what happened. Ashara’s frustration was something Eva had rarely seen and now, the outburst stays with her. Eva feels like should’ve been more open, even if she believed love was an obstacle to their duty.

Eva taps Ashara on the shoulder as they step out of the Medbay, onto the muddy ground. “Ashara.”

Ashara glances over her shoulder. Night has already fallen and the moon is faintly shimmering in the girl’s golden eyes.

Eva’s feet trip over themselves and she stumbles over. Ashara grasps her arms and keeps her upright. The Hypothantonol makes her feel dizzy. Dank Ferrik. Can’t even walk because of that Hypothantonol.

“About earlier,” Eva stammers, “I’m sorry that I was so hostile. Maybe I should’ve been more open.”

“It’s fine,” snaps Ashara. “I’m needed at the Medbay, so I’ll see you later at the barracks, okay?”

Eva hums with a nod.

“And I’ve dismissed you from your training for the upcoming three days. You’re in no condition to even walk, so take some rest, soldier ,” says Ashara, clenching her jaws. She said it with an almost taunting tone.

With that, Ashara walks off and vanishes into the Medbay. She seems to be in a rush, and Eva can’t help but feel like Ashara shoved it off, especially with the taunting tone of soldier . It seems like her confrontation left a sour aftertaste behind, and understandably so. It might not have been the right timing to apologise when the frustration was probably still brewing.

Whatever that Twi’lek left in her wake, it’s sure that it was a trail of chaos. There are Army troopers everywhere and rows of AT-ST walkers are standing by on the training field. The presence of so many security forces makes a shiver rippling through her skin.

With a headache pulsating in her head, Eva stares down at the water splashing in her cup. In the reflection, she sees her cheeks are burning red and swollen. The fever that remained from the Hypothantonol is ravaging her like a haze of heat, scorching her from the inside. It feels like a supernova is bursting inside of her.

Meanwhile, Peyton sits on her bed, letting out a shivering sigh. “That tailhead-, she was invincible.”

Peyton’s words warp in her ears as each beat of her heart makes her fever ripple with pain. Eva dances around with the capsule in her mouth, playing with it with her tongue. It feels smooth, but terrifyingly big and it makes a shiver quiver through her spine. I want to be done with this shit already.

Eva swallows the pill and drinks up all of the water. She gets to her bed and lies down with her back leaning against the wall. The cold concrete wall in her back feels pleasant amidst the internal heat.

Peyton curls up on her bed. Her eyes are drenched in disbelief, staring at the floor.

“She lifted me up like it was nothing,” Peyton stammers. 

Eva presses her lips. The Twi’lek did the same to her. She can remember the elegant sweep of her hand that launched the hospital bed into the ceiling. Seeing it happen again sends shivers down her spine.

“I know,” Eva stammers.

“She didn’t even touch me,” Peyton shivers. “What kind of power did she have?”

Eva shrugs with a sigh. “I don’t know,” she barely whispers.

But what she does know is that the Twi’lek’s reflexes were inhumanely quick. Eva has a hunch that this girl wasn’t normal. Her skills and her movements were so efficient and swift that Eva couldn’t even find an opening in her defense. There’s a lot that makes Eva feel like the skills of this Twi’lek shouldn’t even be possible. However, Eva keeps it quiet. Thinking back to every hit she took, Eva feels the headache quivering with pain. 

“She had some reflexes though,” Eva whispers.

“Not just that,” Peyton responds. “She had a kriffin’ lasersword like a yellow blaze. It went through everything.”

The heat covers her mind with a heavy fog and Peyton’s words fall apart before they reach her. Eva then hears a pound on the door. She makes eye contact with Peyton as she looks up.

“I’ll see who it is,” says Peyton and she uncurls herself from her bed.

Peyton walks out of her sight as Eva leans with the back of her head against the wall. The capsule she just took doesn’t seem to have an effect right now. It feels like her fever’s heat evaporated the capsule before it could even reach her stomach. Hopefully, all of it will go away soon enough. Duty can’t wait long.

She feels a tap on her shoulder and Eva sees it’s Peyton again.

“Someone wants to see you at the door,” says Peyton.

“Who?”

Peyton shrugs. “I don’t know.”

Eva presses her lips and she gets up. It might be someone important she can’t miss. Whoever it is, Peyton got her intrigued. With a tired feeling, Eva walks to the front of the barracks. She follows the railing of the beds with her hand to keep her straight. As the blast door slides into the wall, Eva sees it’s Daxan standing in front of her. It’s the boy who unjammed her blaster yesterday. Eva freezes, surprised by his visit.

“Hey, good evening,” greets Daxan. He’s holding a helmet in his hand and wears a thick, bulb winter hat on his head. It’s as if he’s already prepared for a vicious winter season. It’s merely spring.

Eva tilts her head. “Hi,” she stammers. “You’re Daxan, right?”

Daxan nods. “Yeah, Daxan. Am I here at a convenient time?”

The night breeze crashes into her face and Eva shivers. It feels pleasant with the fever scorching her from within. “Not really,” she sighs, “but go ahead. I’m standing here already.”

“Okay,” he nods. “I heard you were in quite the scuffle this morning. Didn’t hear much but I heard it was tough. I thought I’d pay you a visit to see how you’re doing.”

Eva blushes. She didn’t expect Daxan, pretty much a stranger she’s seen only once, to care about her.

She shifts from foot to foot and presses her lips. “Well, I don’t feel great. I’m left with a fever and a headache, so… terrible is not enough to describe what I’m feeling.”

Daxan raises his eyebrows. “A fever? How did you end up with that?”

Eva closes her eyes and sighs. She fears her unfortunate accident with the Hypothantonol might crack her shine.

“You-, don’t wanna know,” she stammers, ashamed.

Daxan smirks. “Well, anyway, I’m sorry to hear that. I brought you some Conergin to help you to get to sleep. I figured it would be hard to sleep through the pain after all.”

He grabs a weathered medicine box from his helmet and holds it out for Eva to take. She grasps it and tries to read the label, but the letters blur out of focus.

“Con-, Conarg… Blast it, I can’t read anymore,” Eva whispers with a sigh.

Daxan chuckles. “Conergin.”

“Conergin,” Eva repeats, the blurred letters falling into place. “Right.”

The letters start falling into place. Conergin PharmaCo. Compatible with any medication already administered.

“Yeah,” Daxan answers. “It’s very effective and relaxing. Two will put you to sleep like a brick.”

“Is it spice?” Eva asks.

“No, of course not, it’s just sleeping pills. I’d be jailed if I had spice in my pockets,” Daxan responds.

Eva nods. She hesitates, but she recognises she might going to need it. Her fever is scorching her so much that it might keep her up all night. If Daxan is right, she can return to duty in no time, rested and well. 

“Well,” Daxan stammers. “I’ll get going. I can see you really need the rest.”

With a blush, Eva smiles a little. “Yeah.”

“Alright. I’ll get going,” says Daxan. “Good night.”

Eva nods. Daxan walks away and she feels like she’s left in a cold wake. Her finger hovers above the button of the door but she hesitates to press it. She can’t leave him without a simple thank you. She turns back to Daxan. He’s almost out of view. 

“Daxan,” says Eva, her voice echoing through the silent night.

He turns around.

“Thanks,” she says. “I’m Eva, by the way.”

Daxan smiles and nods. “At your service, Eva. Good night, and rest well.”

***

Out of the blue, she sees the blurry face of Roslin, looking at her. Waking up, Eva feels the sunlight burning in her eyes as she gasps. The freezing air of outside rushes into her lungs and she shivers.

Roslin smirks. “Good morning, Eva. Finally, you’re awake.”

Her eyelids feel heavy as Eva’s mind slowly emerges from the fog of sleep. 

“You slept through all of our alarm clocks,” says Roslin.

Roslin’s words falter in her ears and Eva pushes herself up from the mattress.

“What?” Eva lets out.

“You were in quite the sleep,” says Roslin.

Slowly, Eva grasps the world around her and she realises how late it actually is. The sun is shining fiercely and Roslin already has her trooper outfit on. 

“Really?” Eva asks. Those Conergins really did the job then.

Even then, the fever she was left with yesterday still remains. It is still frying her, but fortunately, it’s not as scorching as before. 

Ashara joins in and drops herself down next to Roslin. “Good morning snooze-droid. Finally awake from your hibernation, huh?”

Eva groans. She feels like she’s still in her dreams. “Is it actually that late? Where are the others?”

“Peyton and Ecklund are prepping your breakfast,” Roslin responds. “You missed it, so they’re handling it.”

Eva nods, feeling grateful for her squad to have her back, even when an innocent fever is taking her down. Seeing Roslin and Ashara already dressed up in their trooper armour surprises her. Yesterday was a disaster, yet it seems like the regular training schedule is still active, as if the top of Malstrom Base doesn’t care about whatever happened yesterday. Just shoving it aside as a nuisance. 

“Is training still continuing?” she asks.

Roslin nods. “Yeah,” and she scoffs a little, “even after yesterday.”

It sounds like even Roslin herself is surprised by command’s decision to proceed.

Ashara leans in with a Medisensor in her hand and scans Eva with a red line on her forehead. “So… how’s the fever going? Do you feel any better?”

“I guess. I feel better than yesterday,” Eva responds. 

Ashara nods. “41.1. Still scorching you.”

“But it’s becoming better, right?” Eva asks.

Ashara pulls back the Medisensor. “Yeah. You were 41.3 yesterday, so you’re going well.”

Eva nods. Hearing the reassuring words of Ashara, Eva feels the urge to return to duty. It’s late and her assurance in her own skills got a hefty dent yesterday. If an alien overpowered her with air, her skills are pretty much worthless. She feels like she needs every bit of training, even if it goes against the limits of her body. Besides, the squad needs her. A squad with one man less is in no condition to fight. She can’t leave them because of such a silly fever.

“When does training start?” Eva asks.

“Seven minutes,” Roslin responds. 

Eva sighs. Time to get up then. “I’m joining.”

“What? What do you mean?” Ashara asks, leaning forward. 

“I’m joining the training,” Eva responds.

Ashara shakes her head and pushes Eva down with her hand as she’s about to get up. “No no no, you can’t. You’re in no condition to go. That fever is still scorching you. It’s better for you to stay in bed until you’ve recovered.”

“Ashara, I have to,” Eva stammers. “I don’t want to let this squad down because of a kriffin’ fever. I need that bit of training and you need me.”

“No,” Ashara snaps, shaking her head. “You’re not going.”

“Why? It’s better for me and the squad.”

Ashara scoffs silently with a faint smile of frustration. “As if you know more about wellbeing than me.”

Eva looks at Roslin. “Roslin, order me to get going. I don’t want to be stuck here wasting my time.”

Roslin presses her lips, hesitating to answer. “Well, I can’t.”

“Why not?” Eva asks.

“Because I’m your medic,” Ashara snaps, barely above a whisper. “You’re a footsoldier. When it’s about the health of all of us, including you, I outrank everyone, even Roslin, even Lieutenant Amitash, even Lord Vader. My order is final, and you’re staying. I don’t want you to pass out on the battlefield and get hurt more,” and she puts her hand on Eva’s cheek. “You’re not indestructible. Your body has limits. Respect them.”

Eva sighs as the frustration boils in her chest. She can’t help but feel the urge to refuse her orders and join the training. But she knows she can’t. Orders are orders. Good soldiers follow them, and with a nod, Eva accepts her medic’s orders.

As the battlefield plays out in front of her, Eva leans with her back against a container in the mud. Eating the last piece of bread of her breakfast Ecklund and Peyton prepared for her, Eva stares into dead space. 

That tailhead had so much power, she could easily equal six Gundarks. With as little as air, the Twi’lek overpowered her in almost an instant, and she thought she’s already a well capable soldier. Within one morning, the assurance in her own skills has vaporised. No longer can she be sure her skills can hold out, at least not against this Twi’lek she should’ve easily overpowered.

Then, snippets of words start echoing back from the depths. They are the words of Peyton, now starting to scream from the shadows. Yesterday night, she said something about a lasersword, a yellow blaze the tailhead wielded. Peyton uttered something that now feels familiar. That one time she experienced flashing images in the middle of training, she saw something. At the time, Eva shoved it off, but now, it starts clicking. When she ran out of the trench and made a sprint forward, images flashed before her eyes and she saw a yellow blaze of burning light. Yesterday, Peyton described the exact same thing Eva imagined. 

Eva realises that she saw the future. She saw something that only entered her life days later. It’s strange. It’s nerve-wracking, and impossible, or at least it should be. How can Peyton have seen something Eva saw in her imagination days ago? The questions entangle her with dread shivering down her spine and Eva trembles. The sun darkens like an eclipse and she can no longer look at the mud the same way. 

But before she goes overboard with it, she has to confirm it first with Peyton. Perhaps she made an error in her wording. It was clear that the Twi’lek’s rampage hit her hard as well. 

At the end of the training, the squad walks back to the barracks with mud all over their body armour. Eva picks Peyton out of the group.

“Hey, Peyt,” says Eva. “Got a sec?”

Peyton glances at her and nods. Her cheeks are red and swollen and her forehead is sweaty. It seems like the squad got it hard with a man less. 

Peyton’s durasteel helmet wobbles on her head a little as she walks towards her. “Hey, how are you doing?”

“I’m doing alright,” Eva responds. “Thanks for prepping my breakfast.”

Peyton smiles. “Yeah, no problem. I always got your back.”

Eva nods with a smile. “I wanna ask you something. Yesterday night, you told me something about a yellow blaze. What was it exactly?”

Peyton presses her lips as she sits down. Eva looks at her eyes and sees a twinkle of fear that has held Peyton hostage. Eva can almost see the tears reappearing in her eyes. 

“Yellow blaze,” Peyton repeats, and she takes off her helmet and puts it on the ground next to her. She inhales deeply through her nose. “The tailhead we found in that wreckage-, I stumbled upon her in the Medbay. She had a yellow lasersword or something like that. It sliced through the bodies of guards like it was nothing. I couldn’t respond in time. She disarmed me quickly. When she held it at my chin, it felt like a blaze.”

“A yellow blaze, a lasersword?” Eva picks out, tilting her head.

Peyton nods.

A lightsaber, she called it.

Eva gazes away and feels dread encircling her like vultures. The confirmation she got from Peyton gives her the shivers. Peyton saw the exact same thing Eva imagined days prior. That yellow blaze she saw in flashing images on the battlefields wasn’t an imagination. It was a vision. Something she dreamed of entered the real realm. Eva curls up with igniting nerves.

“Okay,” Eva whispers and entangles her arms around herself. “Thanks.”

Eva looks at Peyton and she can see the uncertainty in her staring eyes. However, Peyton nods anyway. She gets up and walks away, leaving Eva with space to think.

It seems like the Twi’lek and her nightmares are connected. Eva doesn’t know how, but she feels convinced that they are. It must be. There’s no other way. If the Twi’lek can lift up objects as if it’s all air, then visions about her are more than plausible. She’s the center of all of this. The answer may be there, but capturing this Twi’lek won’t be easy. Compared to her, Eva holds no power to fight her whatsoever. She might need a full Army battalion to overpower her. They might be even already on her heels if the Army initiated a manhunt. If Eva wants to know how the realm of her dreams is connected with the real world, she’ll have to hunt. Again. 

Besides, that tailhead is a threat to the Empire and Vaulent 6, no matter who she is or of what importance she is.

Eva buzzes the door of the Doctor’s office room within the base’s main building, and she enters. Behind a desk in front of her sits Dr Kirbley, clacking on the keyboard of his computer. The hologram vanishes from his desk and he looks up at her as Eva approaches, salutes, and stands firmly with her arms behind her back.

“Sir,” she greets.

Kirbley nods at her. “Good day, Eva. What do you want to speak about?”

She inhales deeply through her nose. She can feel her heart pounding a little. “Sir, you are a psychologist, right?”

“Yes. Just call me Doctor,” he snaps before she can ask further. “I find that more comfortable.”

Eva shakes her head, being thrown off by this trivial comment. “But-, you’re my superior, you’re a quadrillion ranks higher than me. I should still call you sir ,” she stammers. Doesn’t make any sense.

“Yes, but I don’t really see myself as a military superior,” Kirbley responds. “I am a psychologist, a scientist. I can’t forget where I come from.”

Eva nods, resisting the urge to roll her eyes. Whatever.   “Right, Doctor. So… are you specialized in dreams and sleep?”

“No,” Kirbley responds, shaking his head. “I know a few things but that’s a whole other category of psychology. I’m only specialised in the general, everyday working of the brains of teenagers, as in their growth, their sections, and their subsequent functions.”

“Right,” Eva stammers and she takes a gasp of cold air with unease slowly brewing within her. “Maybe you have an answer for this, but-, I experienced something two days ago that I can’t explain. When I was training, I had these-, vivid, flashing images out of nowhere. I saw yellow flashes and blurry images I couldn’t understand. They just-, happened. I don’t know why. I thought it was just exhaustion. I haven’t been able to sleep well in the past week.”

“Flashing images?” Kirbley asks. The intrigue shimmers in his eyes and he starts sitting up right on his chair. “In broad daylight? That’s highly concerning and unusual. That’s definitely not a symptom of exhaustion, neither acute nor chronic. It’s a common symptom of post-traumatic stress disorder.”

Eva’s lungs stutter. Just hearing PTSD alone gives her shivers. It’s a horrible, infamous disorder, but it’s not why she’s here. Eva feels it’s something stranger than PTSD. She feels convinced she is dealing with something more. It can’t be PTSD.

“I know,” Eva responds. “Yesterday, we brought this Twi’lek out of a wreckage. When my squadmate, my slicer, encountered her, she described a weapon that I saw in my flashes a day before.” 

Kirbley inhales deeply through his nose. He pushes his chair back and stands up. He walks around his tidy desk as his eyes drift away, thinking about what she just said, and he stops, standing next to her.

Once more, he inhales deeply. “Eva, you are suggesting that your dreams are connected with real-life, future occurrences?

“Yes sir-, Doctor,” Eva responds with a nod.

Kirbley frowns. “Are you sure, Eva? Visions of the future are nearly impossible to occur. It’s not how time generally works. The future doesn’t exist. It isn’t written. We can assume what the future can be. We do it all the time by analysing and calculating a lot. We calculate what the odds are of something to happen. That’s how we predict weather. But it doesn’t make the future an existing thing we can grasp. The future is an idea that becomes present spontaneously without instruction. We can’t tell what the future is until it unfolds as the present. And to come back, visions should not happen, at least according to how I understand time and space.”

“Is it possible that time and space don’t work the way you think they do?” Eva asks.

Kirbley shrugs. “That is always possible. The way we think time and space work is based on theories and models that try to come as close to reality as possible. Nature doesn’t tell us exactly what the formula of force is. We just have a model that tries to represent it. Sometimes it’s faulty because its original creator didn’t include a factor.”

Eva’s eyes drift away, bedazzled. The complicated story of models, time and space reminds her of Peyton’s gonk language when she gets carried away by her nerd things from time to time.

“Is it possible here?” she blurts out.

“Yes, though the odds are nearly negligible. The odds are bigger to be hit by lightning twice inside your home and then be taken in the ass by the Emperor. I wouldn’t bet my Creds on it.”

Taken in the… what? Eva nearly bursts into laughter and barely keeps it in.

“Right. Then the odds may be too big for my vision to be a coincidence,” Eva squeezes out. “I’m sure it wasn’t. It just can’t be a coincidence. All I know is that this tailhead is connected and I’m convinced that she has the answers. She’s the center of this. I saw her holding a weapon that I saw in my kriffin’ dreams. It’s just impossible to be a coincidence.”

Kirbley tilts his head, seemingly sensing something. “I can tell you’re aiming for something. Out with it: what are you proposing?”

“I’m proposing a hunt to capture this Twi’lek alive,” Eva responds. “Those dreams have kept me awake for too long and this vision is just too coincidental to shove aside as something trivial. I can’t go on as if nothing happened. I have to find out.”

Kirbley lets out a sigh and shifts from foot to foot. Then, the room starts shaking as an A9 Juggernaut tank drives past the window. The glassware on the desk rattle and the room darkens like an eclipse until the Juggernaut passes. Even when it has passed, the glassware continues to rattle and annoyed, Kirbley puts his fingertips on them to stop the sound. As it becomes quiet, he inhales deeply. “The Army is already hunting this Twi’lek down in the woods. I don’t think it’s safe for you to join them, considering your mental condition.”

Eva shakes her head. “No, I’m fine. I get that it’s dangerous, but it’s not like it’s new to me. I’ve done this before. I’ve hunted down a previous monster when you didn’t look. Even the ISB was after me and I still didn’t break. Not even the Rebels themselves could break me when they had me captured.”

“Even then I considered your mental condition as unstable,” Kirbley responds. “The outcome may have been positive, but your journey towards that was, in my opinion, quite destructive and disruptive. You caused quite a lot of uproar while you were gone. Even the Imperial Center got wind of your activity.”

“I know. I did things I’m not happy with,” Eva responds. At times, she still remembers everything she’s done crystal clear, from merely surviving the Capital Police bombing to the one time she held the child of a Rebel at gunpoint. Some of the actions she thought were crucial to her mission still fill her with regret, even if they gave her the outcome she wanted. With discomfort, she exhales deeply. “Yeah, I still regret some things, but what matters is that we did it with success. Me and my squad have experience. We know how to handle something like this. Besides, what’s more valuable than wartime experience? Is that not what’s best for me, a cadet of the Empire?”

“What’s best for you is good wellbeing. That’s what matters the most to me,” snaps Kirbley, and inhales deeply with unease. “Yes, I see the value in wartime experience, but it’s not without its risks that are worth considering. I can send you out, but right after you’re back, report at my office immediately. I’ll be fully diagnosing your mental condition. Safety goes first, especially in the case of you.”

Eva smiles and her cheeks start burning a little, blushing at the comment.

“You’re a dangerous kid,” Kirbley responds, starting to smile as well. “I can-, value that to a certain extent, but you’re like a hyperactive child, always running to the next big firefight like it is the ice cream speeder.”

Eva smirks. I’m not that hyperactive, noodle.

“So, I’m going?” she asks.

Kirbley chuckles. “Not so fast. First, I’ll have to discuss it with Lieutenant Amitash, then with the battalion commander in charge of the hunt, and finally your own commander. But as far as I’m concerned, you’re going, on my terms.”

Then, before Eva can acknowledge it with a nod, the door is buzzed. She looks over her shoulder, curious about who it could be, but all she sees is the glimpse of an officer entering the room behind her.

“Sir. Star Fleet Command wishes to speak with you,” a male voice speaks.

Sir? Doctor. It’s Doctor. Anyway, Star Fleet Command? Sounds important. 

As Eva stares straight ahead and squeezes her arms behind her back, continuing to stand firmly, Kirbley nods at the officer.

“Thank you, officer,” he responds, and the door behind her slams shut.

“Doctor,” she whispers and glances at Kirbley. “It’s Doctor.”

He smirks. “You’re right. It’s Doctor indeed. Well, that sucks for him, I think it’s a good idea to have him cleaning the refreshers as a punishment, right?”

Eva and Kirbley chuckle. 

“Anyway, yes, you’ll be part of that hunting party, as far as I’m concerned. If the other officers agree, you’re going. Don’t forget to report to me after returning. Clear?”

Eva nods. “Crystal.”

“Good. Return to your barracks. Your commander is going to notify you in case the mission goes through, okay?”

“Yes, Doctor,” Eva responds. “Thank you.”

With that, Eva turns around and leaves his office room with an assured heart. She knows that once that Twi’lek is in confinement, she can ask her every question she has. From how she can lift up objects like nothing and how her weapon flickered in her visions. She’ll have to put her life on the line to find out, but she’s convinced she can do it. Walking back to her barracks, Eva feels her heart pounding with nervousness, anxious about her hunt and the answers she’ll find. They may not put her to rest as much as she thinks, though.

Meanwhile, a Rebel group living in the shadows of Vaulent 6, intercepts the messages sent back and forth. Imperial hunting parties, combing out Malstrom Forest with tooth and nail, supposedly for a lavender-purple-skinned Twi’lek with a lasersword of unimaginable sharpness. A lasersword of unimaginable sharpness. That can mean only one thing…

Chapter Text

Chapter Text

The squad came back from the woods with terrified faces. Roslin was carried on a stretcher, unconscious by the hit she took. Peyton came back with a bite wound in her leg and a poorly made decision to whine about.

Now waiting in the corridor of the Medbay, Eva leans against the wall with her arms crossed, tapping her fingers on her wrists nervously. She can’t think of anything but the reaction of the squad when they discover it was her who requested this mission. Only Peyton knows of this. While she believes searching for this Padawan was important, the squad will undoubtedly have a heated word with her. The anxiety keeps rising.

Slowly, her heart fills with regret, regret to have requested this mission. The enemy was far too strong than she ever anticipated, even when she had so many security forces supporting her. She should have let it go. What she wanted was almost impossible.

“Ecklund,” Eva nearly whispers. “Do you think it was a mistake?”

On the opposite side of her, Ecklund is leaning against the wall, staring into the far end of the corridor with her arms crossed. Eva looks up at her as Ecklund makes eye contact. Her round glasses twinkle like two stars.

“The mission?” asks Ecklund.

Eva nods.

Ecklund’s crossed arms tighten and she lets out a faint sigh of unease. “I-, I don’t know.”

Eva presses her lips and looks away with uncertainty.

Then, the door of the Medroom slides open and Ashara walks out. The red sigil on the chest of her medic’s uniform twinkles in the light. “Hey, I got her treated. Come take a look.”

Eva nods and follows Ashara into the Medroom. There, on a bed, she finds Roslin. Her shoulder and left leg are wrapped in a bandage and it reminds Eva of Eline’s broken leg she suffered after the Rebel air raid. It makes her heart sink in her chest for a moment as Roslin’s exhausted eyes shift to her.

“Hey,” Eva stammers, approaching her bed. “How are you?”

Roslin shakes her head and smirks. “I fought a Rancor as you can see.”

Eva chuckles and sighs with relief. “I’m happy you’re okay. What do you have?”

Roslin stammers and her eyes drift to Ashara at the back of the Medroom. “Ashara?”

Ashara brushes past Eva’s shoulder. “You got a mild concussion, a dislocated shoulder, and a sprained leg.”

Eva presses her lips. “That’s… a whole lot. Rough.”

Ashara nods. “You’re one of the luckiest of the search party though. Some had their legs torn off.”

Their legs torn off? Like paper? Dank Ferrik. Eva’s lungs shiver. She imagines the screams of a soldier, flooded with tormenting, unimaginable pain as the teeth of his own Lurca rips off his leg. Blood flushes over the ground, the same way the Rebel robber did when his face met the grill of the speeder truck coming in with full force. It becomes all the more clear to her how chaotic it was, and that makes her thoughts drift away to Peyton. She was bit by a Lurca too. How is she? Is she alright? Is she safe?

“How’s Peyton?” Eva asks, her breaths growing shallow. “She didn’t lose a leg, did she?”

Ashara chuckles and brushes past her shoulder. “No, silly. She didn’t. She’s doing fine. I’ll check in on her,” and she lifts a white curtain that splits off the Medroom from another. She vanishes and quickly, Ashara returns with the arm of Peyton over her shoulder.

Eva’s eyebrows rise with relief and she nearly smiles, but seeing Peyton staggering with one leg covered in a bandage, she can’t feel much of the joy at seeing her. At least she’s well and alive.

“Peyton,” Eva gasps as her eyes dart around, from her swollen eyes and red cheeks to her staggering leg. “How-, how are you?”

Peyton shares eye contact as Ashara lets go of her arm. She nods with pressed lips. “I’m fine.”

“What happened?” Eva asks.

Peyton breathes sharply through her nose. Her eyes drift away with fear. “I was-, dragging this trooper away. The Lurcas completely destroyed his left leg. He couldn’t stand, so I dragged him away. And then-, a Lurca ran to me and attacked me before I could react. It was-, horrible. I was lucky that the same trooper still had his blaster. Yeah. It was horrible. The droid in the back told me it would heal for the most part within a day, so that’s luck at an unlucky time.”

“You lucky nerfherder,” Roslin snaps at her with discontent. “Within a day? What a luxury you have. I won’t be able to walk on my own for a week.”

Peyton nods. “Well, at least you didn’t need to endure the pain, so I guess that’s lucky on your part. I guess you’ll be off duty for a while, no? What now?”

“Yeah. We have a bit of a situation,” says Roslin. “Training will continue, but I won’t be able to remain in command for a few days, and that’s a bit of a problem. The squad’s steerless now.”

Eva nods. “Yeah. Who’s going to take over command?”

Roslin shrugs. “I don’t know. I got no one appointed as Lieutenant Commander yet, so this might be a good time to decide.”

For a brief moment, Eva’s mind clears like the sun breaking through the storm clouds with excitement. What if I become second-in-command? I’d be Roslin’s right-hand man. That’s like Lord Vader and the Emperor. That would be so kriffing astral! Finally, I can be something big instead of just being a footsoldier.

The rushing excitement almost makes her jump into the air as Roslin shifts her eyes to Peyton.

“Peyton, I assume you’ll return to duty tomorrow?” Roslin asks.

“Yes sir,” Peyton responds. “With a Bacta patch, it will heal in no time. I’m open for the contract.”

Roslin nods and moves on to the next in line. “Eva?”

Eva smiles. “Definitely.”

“Ashara?”

The girl steps forward. “I’m honoured, but you guys get wounded too often,” she smiles. “Being a medic is tough enough. I can’t juggle two jobs at once. Besides, the command structure here would just-, be all over the place.”

Squad medics have the option to overrule the commander if the health of a squadmember is at stake. Eva understands that Ashara would rather not mess up the chain of command. It would get more tangled up than the average charging cable.

Roslin nods. “Got it. You, Ecklund?”

Ecklund stands in the far back, half enshrouded in the shadow of a closet. She shakes her head a little. “No, sir.”

“Why not?” Roslin asks.

“Well, I’m the quiet kid,” Ecklund responds with half a smile. “I don’t think I have sufficient social skills to command.”

“Noted,” Roslin responds, and she looks at Eva and Peyton. “So, it’s between you two,” and she presses her lips with uncertainty. “This is gonna be tough to decide, you’re both great soldiers.”

Eva smiles, blushing at her commander’s compliment until she glances at Peyton and notices the coldness in her eyes. It’s one of determination and discernment. Eva has never seen such a look directed sharply at her like vibroblades, out to get her.

Peyton inhales sharply through her nose and looks at Roslin, looking through her eyelashes, seemingly calculating her next moves.

“Peyton, convince me,” says Roslin.

“Roslin, whenever we split up in three teams, you and Ashara, me and Eva, and Ecklund alone, I’ve always been the officer in command of my team,” argues Peyton. “We’ve done three raids on Rebel-infested places and over a dozen in simulations and in each raid I’ve had the commanding role. I already have the skills of a commander to lead. That alone makes me the best candidate.”

In less than a second, Peyton glances quickly at Eva before turning away. In that fraction of time, Eva notices the coldness in her eyes has become even colder. Peyton’s tone sounds ambitious, wanting to take the next step to climb higher into the ranks, but at the same time, almost hostile as well. It hits a string in Eva’s chest the wrong way. It’s as if Peyton, no matter her commanding skills, doesn’t want her to take the spot as Lieutenant Commander; as if they’ve suddenly become each other’s greatest competitors. In some way, they are, but Peyton’s voice sounds like it’s covered with heat. It seems like Peyton no longer has any trust in Eva’s skills. This, coupled with the coldness in her eyes towards her, makes Eva feel nervous. Her heartbeat speeds up and her throat dries up. 

She wants to become Roslin’s right hand so much, but she knows she has no defense to become one. Peyton is correct. She has the skill set and thus the basis of a Lieutenant Commander already. Eva has none. Sure, she has taken the lead on a few things, but only during solo missions, never when the squad relied on her thinking and insight.

However, that sweet spot next to Roslin is all too inviting. The lack of a defense can be sufficiently compensated with a good offense, and Eva bets her chances on that. And she knows how. Peyton’s position is already occupied. She is the squad’s slicer. She already has a task she has to focus on during training and real operations. Being a Lieutenant Commander at the same time will distract her from her slicing duties. She isn’t able to command if all her eyes are glued to her datapad. Eva in the meantime, has no task. Ever since her first seconds elapsed at the Academy, as soon as the test results of the medical checks were in, she’s been a footsoldier, a private, an ensign. A simple footsoldier. Nothing more, nothing less. This empty spot first felt like an unrecognition of the Academy, as if they had nothing planned for her, as if she was the filler episode of a HoloNet drama series. Now, this empty spot has become an opportunity. A golden one, even if she has no commanding skills. Those can be learned anyway. 

Immediately, as soon as Peyton is finished making her case, Eva swallows and opens her mouth. “Roslin, I want to be your Lieutenant Commander, because I’m still open. I’m nothing more but a footsoldier. I have no task other than chasing you. Peyton’s a slicer, she’s already occupied. I am not. If I were Lieutenant Commander, I would put 100 per cent of my focus on my job. Peyton cannot.”

“But you’re not skilled as a commanding officer,” Peyton responds. “I already have experience.”

“Skills can be learned,” Eva responds, raising her shoulders and keeping her eyes on Roslin. “And I am willing to learn. Besides, I have endured the most. I’ve been jailed, tortured, almost blown up, all by Rebels. I know what dangers are and I know what they are capable of better than anyone else.”

“You know why you got captured by the Rebels in the first place?” Peyton asks, turning to Eva. “It’s because you act purely out of emotion.”

Suddenly, the atmosphere ignites as Peyton’s cold, sharp eyes land on her. Peyton raises her voice and turns her whole body to Eva, no longer maintaining eye contact with Roslin, keeping her completely out of the scene.

“Eva, we all have emotions,” says Peyton, “but you fail to control them. That’s a big flaw that you don’t seem to get the hang of.”

But I did! A spark suddenly ignites within her and Eva clenches her fists. “I did! That last time… I learned from that mistake. I did, I truly did.”

Peyton scoffs. “Should I remind you of yesterday? I think no one else knows the secret you’ve been hiding from the squad.”

Her heart skips a beat and Eva feels the atmosphere falling silent now that the eyes of the entire squad fall on her. Roslin moves up from her hospital bed, Ashara behind her steps forward with killing curiosity, and Ecklund loosens her arms and comes out of the shadows.

“What?” Roslin leans forward. “Tell me, Peyton.”

Ashara hesitates. “Do we-, have to reveal secrets?”

Peyton inhales deeply through her nose and shifts her cold eyes from Eva to Roslin. “Our mission of yesterday, your one-week displeasure, and my bite wound were all because Eva requested it at the board of command. She asked for this mission.”

“Without telling us?” Roslin asks. “Without telling me?”

Peyton nods and turns back to Roslin, squeezing her arms behind her back. “Affirmative.”

Roslin looks at Eva. “Is that true?”

Eva’s cheeks start burning with embarrassment. She feels like the atmosphere is suffocating her, wanting to get out and hide in a corner like a scared Loth-cat. Now that all eyes are on her with displeasure and discontent, Eva exhales deeply with shivering lungs. She nods. “I did. I requested to be part of the hunting party. I asked the Doctor, he agreed, he asked Lieutenant Amitash and he spoke to you.”

“Yeah, and I agreed because I thought it was his idea,” Roslin snaps. “I thought command wanted us to do it as training. I didn’t know it was yours. Why?”

“Because I couldn’t let this tailhead go without at least a punch in the jaw,” Eva responds. “She left this base in flames, she almost killed me and Peyton. She’s a threat to us, the Empire, and Vaulent 6. For them and our training, I thought requesting this mission at the board of command was necessary.”

“I-, I get why you wanted that,” Roslin stammers. “But you have to understand that sometimes, situations are not ours anymore to handle. Sometimes you have to let things go. And you said nothing to me beforehand! You kept it a secret from all of us! Why didn’t you tell any of us? You could’ve told me and I would’ve likely agreed. I would’ve asked command myself if you proposed it to me first, but you didn’t! Why?”

Eva almost chokes on her own breath and she feels like she’s almost at the point of breaking out into tears with the pressure that’s now lying on her shoulders. She can’t get an answer out of her throat. It’s too shameful to admit to her problems. 

Peyton presses her lips. “Why? Because of emotions, angered by the fact that a tailhead bested her in combat,” and she scoffs. “An alien.”

Eva looks down, no longer able to maintain eye contact with anyone in the room. Now that everyone knows what she tried to hide, Eva fills with shame and regret. She recognises that her emotions took her over for a moment. She should’ve asked Roslin first, but she didn’t. She went right away to the Doctor once her fears were confirmed. She didn’t notify anyone. She dragged down the squad because of her own, personal problems. No one asked for it. In a desperate attempt, Eva considers mentioning her visions, but she knows it won’t help now. All that matters is that Eva acted on emotion, not on instincts. As soon as she recognises this, her chances of becoming Roslin’s right hand crumble away completely.

She remains the empty-handed footsoldier of the squad, the private. Seeing the promotion flying to Peyton aches in her heart, ashamed of her failure. With red, burning cheeks, Eva walks out, leaving the rest behind as Peyton is congratulated for a glorious purpose Eva is no longer in reach for.

***

At the Doctor’s office, it feels like the dust on the floor is staring back at her. Eva’s eyes are fixated on the floor as she’s deep in her thoughts, still bedazzled about her missed promotion and the confrontation. 

The tests Kirbley conducted on her lasted more than an hour, eventually resulting in nothing substantial. No Post Traumatic Stress Disorder, no substance abuse, no traumas… nothing. For Eva it feels relieving to have nothing in her mind malfunctioning, but for Kirbley, it seemingly worries him even more. His forehead ripples as he studies the numbers on his datapad with frowned eyes. Seeing him ponder gives Eva a slight sliver of worry. 

“Doctor?” she asks. “Is there something wrong with me?”

Kirbley looks up from his datapad and slowly, he shakes his head. “At the looks of it, no. You seem completely fine.”

“That’s-, good, right?”

Kirbley slowly shakes his head. “No. It worries me even more. Your testimonial contradicts what I’m getting here. You reported possible hallucinations, or visions, as you call them, without even a lead-up. No PTSD, no substance abuse, no traumas… your medical history and mental state are excellent. Yet, you reported to have experienced something very problematic.”

Eva swallows, but she can’t force an answer out of herself.

“Where there are Jawas, there’s usually scrap. The scrap isn’t even here to begin with. No ships, no droids, yet, Jawas swarm the place. Your hallucinations and dreams are just-, there; causeless.”

Again, Kirbley looks down at his datapad, pondering, pondering, and pondering until he lies it down on his lap and looks at her. “You are not selling me a fabricated story, aren’t you?”

Eva shakes her head. “Why would I?”

“Well, maybe to get a sick leave to cause some uproar in the Capital?” Kirbley asks. 

“I have nothing planned,” Eva shrugs, nearly monotone.

Kirbley raises his eyebrows with doubt.

“Really. I wouldn’t dare lie to my superiors.”

He nods and inhales deeply. “When was the last time you experienced hallucinations like the one you reported?”

Eva shrugs. “Like, two days ago, ever since I’ve been taking medical prescriptions.”

“What kind of prescription are you taking?”

“Conergins and aspirin. The Conergin makes me sleep like a brick. Since then, I haven’t had anything similar occur to me.”

Kirbley nods. He still seems to have no clue or explanation as it falls silent. Eva takes a glass of cold water from a little coffee table. Sipping it, she can feel a hint of alcohol remaining on the edge of the glass. It burns slightly in the back of her throat, relaxing her a little, though she feels almost bad for tasting it. Dad always said it was bad to start drinking, even when he emptied bottle after bottle during the weekends, or when something was to be celebrated. Sorry, dad.

“Eva, tell me more about these visions,” says Kirbley. “What did they tell you?”

She puts down her glass. “Before I went here, I had weird dreams at the Academy. Recurring ones. They didn’t feel like nightmares, just dreams about a slab of stone someone I knew gifted to me because of my service. The stone got stolen by a Rebel robber. I caught him before he could escape. Since then, I kept having them. I thought this excursion outside the city would do good, but my dreams have only become worse. They became nightmares until I had these flashing images before me in daylight.”

Kirbley taps on his datapad and inhales deeply through his nose as he finishes typing her details. “And this Twi’lek is the centerpiece of the story?”

“Yes, Doctor.”

“Why?”

That question is still left unanswered, and Eva draws a blank. “I’m not sure. I recognised her weapon when we carried her to the medbay.”

Kirbley nods with a hum. He types down her answer on his datapad, but by the looks of his endless stare at the screen afterwards, Kirbley seems to have hit a dead end again. “How’s your sister?” he then asks.

“She’s doing alright,” Eva responds, a little bit caught off guard. “I haven’t seen her in almost a week though. I miss her.”

He nods. He stands up from his chair and lies his datapad on his desk. “Perhaps a visit will do wonders. Take a gasp of fresh air… Calm your mind… I’m sure it will do good. In the meantime, you stay under my supervision. Report to me at the end of every week from now on. Your squad medic will decide whether you’re ready to continue training.”

Eva nods silently.

“You might very well be stressed out,” he adds, and stops in his tracks, his frozen fingertips touching his clean desk. “Who else isn’t during these times…” and he lets out a sigh.

Eva notices the concern and the unease in his shallow voice. She almost doesn’t dare to ask as her nerves burn. She leans over her armrest towards him with a pounding heart. “We’re still winning the war, right?”

For a moment, the thought of a stalemate races through her mind, the war effort freezing to a screeching halt. It would mean that the Empire no longer has the upper hand and has lost its grip on the war. It’s a haunting thought that encircles her mind like crows attracted to the graves. It makes her breath speed up, gasping for air as she stares at Kirbley.

His eyes draw to her and he presses his lips. “I wish that were the case, but the tides are turning. When we look at the horizon, we see no sun announcing tomorrow, but thunderclouds reaping the dead. Rebel operations are becoming more organised, more sophisticated. We’ve lost the grip on them long ago, and now we’re dancing with the consequences of our inaction.”

“Inaction?” she asks. “We have done a lot, haven’t we? We’re fighting them, we’re bombing the hell out of ‘em, isn’t that enough?”

“To make a garden weed-free, we have to prevent them from growing in the first place,” Kirbley responds. “Not by cutting off the branches or the leaves, but by pulling its roots out of the soil and killing the seeds. We should have done that with the Rebel Alliance, pinch their breathing space when rebel cells were emerging. We did not do that. We didn’t even watch, and now, the Alliance has grown out of our control. Its light has spread everywhere across the galaxy and we struggle to keep it at bay.”

Eva gazes away, unable to believe that the Empire is no longer as superior as she once thought it was. She curses under her breath, barely audible.

“But-, I’m here, right? I’m here to become the best soldier of the Empire, am I not?” she asks.

Kirbley smiles. “I admire your optimism about the future, Eva.”

“Well, maybe you should learn from me,” Eva responds, carefully choosing her words. “Even if people think we’re losing, we won’t just give up.”

Eva clenches her fists with frustration. She can’t yet believe the path to victory is slipping through their fingers. Even if it did, the Empire wouldn’t surrender so easily without putting up a fight to make victory happen. The Empire has power. The Rebels have nothing that comes close. Hope? Nah. That can’t save them.

“Perhaps,” Kirbley responds, and he walks towards her. “I’m a Doctor. What do I know about strategy? Anyway, I’ll call up a transport for you. Forget what I said about the war effort, it’s trivial, and as long as you do your part, it will remain that. Dismissed.”

Kirbley’s voice almost sounds like he didn’t like it when Eva shoved off the stalling war effort. But what stayed more was what she said afterwards. Forget about how you told me we’re losing? Okay…

Why would you say that? Because I have to find out on my own? Draw my own conclusions? 

Perhaps it all doesn’t matter to her except for the higher-ups, the strategists, the directors, and the fleet commanders. All she needs to know is how to kill a Rebel. She doesn’t need more.

***

Eline tightens the string of her makeshift bow. Aiming for the cross on the metal sheet 15 meters away from her, she releases the bolt of plasma and hits the edge. Eline lets out a light cough and looks back at Eva and she smiles. 

“Not bad,” Eva remarks, leaning against a tree. The woods around her feel like its alive; the green leaves rustle a little above her and the scent of pine fills the air.

Eline hums, but her voice seems strained. “I’ve been training all week just to become as good as you.” 

Eva chuckles. “Well, you’re doing great at getting there.”

Eline nods. “But… it’s hard to aim. Harder than I thought,” and she tightens the string again. “Especially-,” she coughs, “especially when my lungs act up.”

Eva’s smile falters. “Acting up?”

Eline fires away, hits the upper edge of the cross, and glances at Eva with a hint of pain shimmering in her young eyes.

“Have you taken your meds today?” Eva asks, concern flickering in her eyes.

Eline shakes her head, pressing her lips. “I-, I ran out-, this morning.” She coughs again and rubs her hand over her chest. “I was going to tell you, but…”

“But?”

“I thought you were busy.” Eline glances away, avoiding Eva’s eyes and focusing on her bow instead.

Eva sighs, walking towards her. “You can’t skip them. What happens if you go without it?”

Eline’s eyes cast downward. With her foot, she draws lines in the soil, displacing the dirt. “I won’t breathe,” she whispers. “Death.”

Eva rubs her hand on Eline’s cheek and moves her head up, forcing her sister to look at her. “So… if you’re out of it, tell me, okay?” Eva asks

Eline swallows and nods. “I will. But… they said a new package is coming in tomorrow. I figured I could wait. I’ll be fine without it for a day. It just gets harder to breathe sometimes, but I can handle it.”

Eva remains silent, uncertain of how to answer. Sure, Elibe might be very resilient. She survived a B-Wing crash and a 6-months-long coma, but should she really take this small but dangerous risk? To let her lungs lock down and collapse? 

However, Eline seems sure of herself snd the package that is arriving tomorrow, and Eva nods. 

“Alright. Let me help you,” says Eva. She inspects her stance; the position of her feet, and her arm emplacements. With her boots, Eva pushes Eline’s foot forward a little, moves her arm closer to her shoulder and up a little. 

She remembers her first blaster training when she missed every shot at her first try, until Roslin, slightly condescending at the time, had shown her what she did wrong. It was the recoil she handled poorly.

“Try now.”

Eline releases her hand and the plasma bolt hurdles towards the target and hits it. The outer, fifth ring.

Eline raises her cybernetic hand, celebrating her shot silently. She looks back at her.

“Great shot,” Eva smiles. “Practice more and you’ll hit bull’s eye.”

Eline nods. She tightens the string again, ready to fire again, but she hesitates and lowers her bow. Eline turns around. “I want to show you something.”

As Eline holds onto her bow in her right hand, she reaches out for her pocket with the other and takes out something hidden in her hand. “I made something for you.”

She opens her hands and Eva sees it’s a bracelet. 

“For me?” Eva asks, bewildered. 

Eline nods and puts the bracelet on her hand. Eva moves it closer to her eyes and sees it is made of wooden beads with the letters of her sister’s name. Eva chuckles as her cheeks warm up.

“I’m flattered,” Eva smiles and she slides her wrist through it. Its small beads roll over her skin until all letters face up.

Eline lifts up her cybernetic with her own bracelet on her wrist, with the name of Eva imprinted on its little beads, and holds her arm next to Eva’s. “I also have one. This way, we’re always together. Anywhere.”

Eva smiles. “Anytime.”

***

“Reach out. Reach out.”

Whispering, the Twi’lek, Kishtung Sorren, sits crouched on the soil. Deep in the woods, the owls worship the night as she inhales calmly and deeply. Kishtung empties her mind with each exhale and everything feels like it’s slowing down until the only time that passes is her heart, pounding with serenity.

They’ve led her to a temporary encampment, far from where she stumbled into the world. Camps stand between the thick trees. Rebel mechanics tend to their cheap speeders and some tanks they managed to get their hands on. 

“Reach out,” she repeats.

Soon, they should answer her through the Force. However, Kishtung recognises circumstances might not be the same as when she stepped into the carbonite chamber. If the galaxy has remained the same ever since, it should not be a problem to reach out to the Force, however.

As soon as they answer, Kishtung knows Coruscant is secure. She’ll have to get there as quickly as possible and inform them about her mission.

There, over her arms, Kishtung feels a warm sensation like warm air blowing gently over her skin. The Force is in reach to grasp and let it flow through her. She can feel its song playing out at a constant, reassuring rhythm, but to her confusion, it is not singing in harmony. Its notes are off, twisted into despair. Did something bring the Force off balance? It’s the first thought that echoes through her empty mind. Kishtung tries to silence it but to no avail. The song of the Force is too off-balance to keep it quiet.

Then, Kishtung feels a punch in the guts. Her lungs shudder and gasp for air as her eyes open with unprecedented shock. She feels the frigid darkness creeping over her skin, making her shiver. The owls of the night go silent as Kishtung hears muffled footsteps growing louder behind her. It’s the commanding officer of the Rebel Starbird Group, Girkin Vaskyr. She can feel him through the Force as one of the few harmonising strings in a disjointed melody. She tries to form words, but her mind stutters with shock.

“The Darkside,” Kishtung stammers, “it’s everywhere.”

She turns her head around to Girkin. The man stands a couple of meters away from her, almost nonchalantly with his hands behind his back.

Tears start forming in her eyes as she hastily gasps for air. “What happened? The Darkside is everywhere, spread like a plague.”

He presses his lips, growing uncomfortable as he steps towards her.

“My lady, we have a lot of catching up to do,” he says, “but it would take me hours, days, and weeks to get you up to date on the current state of the galaxy. The enemy would have spotted us by then. What matters the most is that the galaxy is in a state beyond despair. The Republic you once knew has been deformed into the Empire that now rules the everyday people with fear and terror. It’s hungry for power and won’t stop infecting until it has everything in its might. Freedom is no longer the rule, it’s become the exception.”

Kishtung swallows. “And the Jedi Order?”

Girkin’s eyes drift away with unease, trying to find the right words to ease the pain. “The Jedi Order is no more, I’m afraid.”

Kishtung’s heart sinks in her chest. “The Jedi Order, gone? How could that happen?”

From behind his back, Girkin unveils a golden, soft-glowing Holocron. Its edges have withered away, removing some of its shine. “I think this will inform you much better than I can.”

He extends his arm and puts it in Kishtung’s trembling hands. He leads her to the biggest tent, seemingly the base of operations since a holotable dominates most of its space. He ushers the remaining officers out of the tent until all who remains is her and only her.

With shock still shivering her, Kishtung drops herself slowly to the floor. She puts the Holocron on the floor at arm’s reach and closes her eyes. Grasping the Force, she unlocks it.

It starts humming and through the Force, she feels it rising from the floor. Its sharp edges twist and unfold, until a blue haze is projected. For a moment, Kishtung feels the harmony flowing out of the Holocron, but it’s tainted with dark edges.

An unfamiliar voice speaks with volumes that is able to adjust orbits of planets and calm solar storms.

“This is Master Obi-Wan Kenobi. I regret to report that both our Jedi Order and the Republic have fallen, with the dark shadow of the Empire rising to take their place.”

Kishtung opens her eyes with bliss.

“This message is a warning and a reminder for any surviving Jedi: trust in the Force. Do not return to the Temple. That time has passed, and our future is uncertain. Avoid Coruscant. Avoid detection. Be secret, but be strong. We will each be challenged: our trust, our faith, our friendships. But we must persevere and, in time, a new hope will emerge. May the Force be with you. Always.”

May the Force be with you. Always.

The Holocron shuts off. The man projected by the floating cube vanishes and the Holocron hovers down on the floor. Its edges fold back into its original form, leaving Kishtung in silence, contrasted by the questions in her mind. With her heart pounding in her chest, Kishtung slowly stands up. The Jedi Order. Fallen. The Republic. Gone. Its replacement? The Empire, drawing its long, dark shadows over the galaxy. 

What concerns her the most, however, is that Master Kenobi instructs her not to return to the Temple. The mission that nearly left her dead in a carbonite chamber cannot be delayed since it was of great importance. Its details have to be reported to Coruscant, but now, a Jedi Master is instructing her not to go. She has to go against what she was ordered to do. Conflicted, Kishtung no longer knows what to do now. 

With the Holocron enclaved in her hand, she steps out of the tent, still bedazzled by everything. Girkin notices her and walks towards her.

“It can’t be true,” she barely whispers. “It can’t be.”

“Search your feelings, mistress,” Girkin replies. “You know it’s true.”

Kishtung closes her eyes. She lets everything go and reaches out until the Force punches back at her with the Darkside fueling its flames. With a tear rolling over her cheek, she opens her eyes. Slowly, she nods and wipes away her tears.

She didn’t want to believe it at first, but the Jedi Order is truly gone.

“I can’t believe the Order is truly gone,” she whispers. “They assigned me a mission of great importance, and now that I have completed it, they’re no longer there to see me returning.”

Girkin nods. “What is the mission you were assigned?”

Kishtung sweeps her cotton bag from her back in a swift movement and rummages through her belongings. They should be in there. Must be. She ensured it. But to her horror, she notices she’s missing something.

“No,” she gasps. “I lost it. No.”

Girkin moves towards her. “What did you lose exactly?”

“It has no name as far as I know, except for the Artefact,” Kishtung responds. “We have to get it back.”

The images of the girl Kishtung encountered, Eva, flash through her mind. She must have taken it out of her bag when she searched her belongings in the Medbay.

“I know who got it in their possession. A girl has it, and I know how to get it back.”

Chapter Text

Eva crashes into the side of the trench wall and drops herself to the bottom next to Peyton. It’s another training day at Malstrom base, but things seem to go differently this time. They no longer start at the front of the battlefield, but at the far back in the trenches of an artillery gun site.

“What’s up for today?” Eva asks.

Peyton looks at her as she inspects the blaster on her lap. “We have to hold position and defend this place. So, we’re the defense team now.”

“Astral,” Eva responds.

She checks her battery cells. One in the blaster, two more on her waist belt. It should be enough to face whatever challenge it will be.

“By the way, Eva,” says Peyton. “I couldn’t find you yesterday evening. Where were you?”

Eva shrugs. “Gone.”

Peyton hums. “Obviously… I wanted to see you because of our conversation of the morning.”

“Why? I don’t feel like bringing it up again.”

“Well, uh, I’m sorry.” Peyton squeezes her blaster against her chest with regret reflecting in her eyes. “I’m really sorry for what I did-, or how I did it. I didn’t mean to shame you. I wanted to make a point, a case for myself, but I recognise it was the wrong way. I didn’t intend on hurting you.”

Eva’s eyebrows rise with surprise, caught off guard after hearing an apology from her. It’s especially surprising because of how heated Peyton was during that argument. She expected Peyton to take her victory and leave it at that aside from taking command, but no. She returned. 

Eva’s eyes drift away. “Well, it did feel like a punch in the guts. It hurt.”

“Yeah, I understand. I’m sorry. I shouldn’t have attacked you like that.”

Eva nods with pressed lips. “It’s fine. You’re a good soldier. I’m sure you’re gonna be a good LC too.” 

Peyton smiles a little and nods. 

A squad of boys jump down the trench. Eva recognises one of them as Kuma, the boy from The Well who distracted her with his flirting attempts. She clenches her jaws with sharpening eyes. Ugh, you?

Kuma glances at her for a fraction of a second and looks away, seemingly feeling awkward about their first interaction. Eva scans the faces of the other boys and recognises another as Daxan with his thick winter hat. She shares a glance with him until one boy stops near her.

“Where’s your commander?” he asks.

Peyton looks up at him and pushes herself off the ground. “Well, I am the commander.”

“You? Where’s the tall one?”

“Wounded. I’m replacing commander Roslin, for now,” Peyton responds.

“That sucks. Well, I’m Kirthin, commander of VSRC012.” He extends his arm and shakes Peyton’s hand. “I’m evaluating our defense. You know the Captain’s instructions?”

Peyton falls silent. “Captain?” She stammers and looks back at Eva with confusion.

Captain? Yeah, no clue either, and Eva shrugs. The only instructions she heard were from Peyton which, in turn, came directly from Lieutenant Amitash. Who could this captain be?

“Captain Amitash, former lieutenant,” the boy responds. “He got promoted yesterday.”

Eva raises her eyebrows. He got promoted? Dang. Good for him.

“Really?” Peyton asks, tilting her head, bewildered.

“Yeah. Took his new rank with some fine dining, I heard. Anyway, you got your instructions?”

Peyton nods. “Yes. Every detail.”

The boy nods, and after some exchanges of words more, he walks off towards the other squads waiting and boring out further into the trench. Tracking him, Eva gets the impression that this boy has taken the task on himself to take care of the entire team, almost like a second Amitash taking command of everything. There is definitely a hint of ambition to climb the ranks in his voice.

They prepare for their tasks. While Eva peers over the trench, she recites her instructions countless times. There is not much to recite anyway. In the last couple of training days, Eva’s squad has taken part in the offensive team, attacking another through Flanking and Breakthrough strategies. Today, she’s on the defense team, defending their little stronghold of trenches and artillery gun sites. It sparks her interest, curious of how this side of a battle will turn out to be.

As Eva peers over the trench, overlooking the strolling hills, Peyton joins her, putting her elbows on the soil. 

Eva looks over her shoulder. “How’s it going?”

“Everyone’s in position,” Peyton responds. She taps with her hands on the soil, seemingly nervous.

“Then there’s not much that could go wrong,” Eva responds, trying to comfort her.

Peyton hums. Then, her datapad beeps and she quickly grasps it from her waistbelt and looks at it. “I let my datapad do some calculations. I’m trying to predict the A-team’s next moves based on our offensive trainings.”

“Really?” Eva asks, leaning towards her to look at the screen. “What does it say?”

“Northern flank has the highest chance of being attacked,” Peyton responds. “Mostly because we attacked it the most when we were on the A-team. It is the easiest direction for them to take. So that should make it easier for us to prepare.”

Eva hums. “That sounds unfair. I like it.”

Peyton chuckles. “Rebels don’t play fair either. Anyway, things should get started soon. Get ready for the wave.”

Eva nods. She gets up and glances over the edge of the trench, looking over the foxholes and the hills which the A-team will cross. “You make it sound like a game as if it’s all Rebel Lair .”

Peyton hums and looks over the edge of the trench as well. “How much charge do you have left?”

Eva checks the indicator on her blaster and taps on the battery cells hanging from her waist belt. “Got three.”

Peyton nods. “Good. You’ll need it, we’re going to mow down some Rebel zombies today.”

They both chuckle.

The voice of another squad’s commander erupts from her wristlink. The assault has finally commenced. Eva tightens her grip on the trigger as blasterfire erupts and the attackers of the A-team appear over the hills on their northern flank. 

“Northern flank,” says Peyton, looking at her. “Exactly as I predicted. Eva, you’re with me.”

“Copy.”

Eva follows Peyton towards the northern flank through the trench and positions there. She puts her blaster on the ground and sees soldiers of the A-team running over the plains towards them. She barrages the A-team with fire as they hurdle towards cover. While she repels the A-team, Peyton shouts through the comm channels to the rest of the squad, ensuring everyone is in the right position. 

Eva looks over at Peyton sitting crouched on the bottom of the trench, shouting through her wristlink. Her voice sounds a bit jumpy and she stammers a lot, asking for status updates constantly.

“Hey, Peyt-, lieutenant, I can’t keep them all at bay on my own,” Eva shouts over the screeching blasterfire.

Peyton glances up at her. “Got it. Sorry,” and she gets up and fires back.

Then, in the middle of the heat, Ecklund’s voice echoes through the comm channels. “Enemy in the east!” 

Peyton pulls back her blaster with growing pupils. “What? That’s the frontal flank. No, they can’t!”

Eva can hear the turmoil growing like wildfire in her voice as she continues to repel the enemy from the northern flank, listening with one ear.

“How many are there?” Peyton asks.

“Stand by,” Ecklund responds. “Five.”

Peyton looks up at Eva. “Just five. That’s a single squad. That doesn’t make sense. Could be a distraction. Remain where you are, don’t reposition.”

Don’t reposition? Peyton’s order nearly makes her stomach turn. The fact that the A-team is sending five soldiers to be massacred feels wrong. That can’t be their plan for just five unlucky boys. That seems too stupid. It makes her believe there’s something more to it and that they should react before they can be taken by surprise, but she remains where she is. She follows her orders.

However, as the attack on the northern flank continues, the frontal assault on the D-team intensifies with each passing second. From five men, the frontal assault grows to countless of soldiers, barraging the D-team with continuous blasterfire. 

“Lieutenant, we can’t hold out here!” Ashara’s voice erupts from her wristlink.

Eva ducks as blaster bolts nearly hit her and she looks at Peyton, moving her wristlink to her chin.

“I’m busy here too!” Peyton shouts. “Hold the line. Keep defending!”

“But-, but we can’t!” Ashara stammers.

“Orders, Ashara!”

Ashara remains silent until a sigh erupts from her side. “Copy, lieutenant.”

Eva lowers her blaster and gets down to Peyton. With her heart racing in her chest, Eva sees the panic engulfing Peyton like flames. Her eye movements are frantic and she doesn’t respond to anything in her vicinity, not even when Eva gets so close to her that she breathes into her face.

“Lieutenant!” she shouts. “Shouldn’t we help Ashara and Ecklund?”

Peyton’s eyes dart to her. “What?”

“Shouldn’t we help Ashara and Ecklund?” Eva repeats.

“I-, I don’t know,” Peyton stammers. “Eastern flank is quite the run. If we leave here, they might force a way through this flank or shoot us in the back.”

“We got the other squads defending it, We’re doing fine here while Ashara and Ecklund are starving out there!”

“It-, no, no, we can’t,” but Peyton stops. She clasps her forehead with her hands, no longer able to get her mind to work. The girl is shutting down and Eva’s heart sinks in her chest at the sight of it.

“Peyt!” Eva shouts, and she grasps Peyton’s shoulders and pushes her against the wall of the trench.

At last, Peyton looks up with watery eyes, the panic brewing like flames. 

“We have to do something!” Eva shouts.

Peyton starts curling up, reaching for her legs. “Okay, okay, I can-”

Suddenly, a shouting voice breaks out from the blasterfire beyond the trench, screaming the enemy has breached the eastern flank. Eva shouts at Peyton to take action as the Lieutenant Commander, but nothing reaches her. In her sheer anxiety, she’s gone deaf and Eva pulls onto her arm, trying to wake her up. They have to pull back now that the eastern flank has fallen.

“Peyt, we have to retreat!” Eva shouts. 

At last, Peyton reacts and shakes off Eva’s hand. “Okay, okay, got it,” and she moves her wristlink to her chin. “Ashara, Ecklund, fall back to Delta.”

With that, Eva chases Peyton through the trenches towards Delta Point, a position further back in the D-team’s hold-out. It’s a position that’s easier to defend, and as they arrive there, Eva sees most other squads have retreated as well, with some carrying their fellow comrades who have been hit by stun rounds.

D-team regroups and barely manages to turn the tide as the last attackers of the A-team are defeated. As the smoke of the battle clears, Eva stomps towards Peyton with frustration. This battle has made clear that Peyton is not the right person to command. Roslin held her composure. She acted whenever it was necessary and kept acting when the heat scorched her. Roslin went on despite the anxiety. Peyton did not. She closed down when the heat became too much, curled up and cried in the corner like a young girl. Peyton failed and did not act when she should have. It infuriates her that Peyton didn’t act accordingly. She had all the information laid out in front of her as bare as it could. She knew the northern flank was under attack and that it was intensifying, yet, Peyton didn’t act. It makes her blood boil.

Eva gives her a stomp on the shoulder. “Peyt, what the hell happened back there?”

Peyton looks at her, gasping with red, swollen cheeks. “I-, I don’t know.”

“We almost lost!” Eva shouts.

Peyton drops herself to the ground and splashes in the mud, sitting with disbelief in her eyes. She clasps her forehead and buries her eyes in her hands.

Eva drops to the ground next to her. “I told you we should’ve done something. We should’ve reinforced the northern flank when they were still building up their forces there. Why didn’t you?”

Peyton gazes into oblivion. “I don’t know. I locked down. I just-, didn’t expect this to be so hard.” and she shifts her head to Eva. “I will do better, I promise.”

Better candidate for Lieutenant Commander, huh? The conversation between her, Peyton and Roslin flashes through her mind. Yeah, right.

Eva presses her lips, feeling it’s hard to swallow the apology, but she accepts it with a nod and looks away into oblivion. Even when she failed, Eva recognises Peyton might need time to get used to commanding a whole squad. It’s not easy, but acting accordingly is definitely not. 

***

As midnight draws closer, Eva swallows her Conergin pills and drops down on bed with just her tank top. Further at the back, Peyton is talking with Roslin about how she performed, seemingly discussing her shortcomings and excellences. But from afar, Eva can tell Peyton is not telling everything. She seems to be smiling, and from the words she picks up, Eva hears she’s sugarcoating her dramatic performances. 

Eva can’t believe Peyton got the rank of Lieutenant Commander instead of her. The training of today was a clear display of how unable she is to command. She might need more time to adjust, but she couldn’t even act when it became heated. She closed down, a bad habit of any soldier fighting in battles. It leads to inaction and confusion. That caused the eastern flank to fall into enemy hands. It still infuriates her, but as her blood begins to boil, Eva closes her eyes and inhales deeply through her nose multiple times. She can’t get angry now for a few mistakes, especially when it’s her own friend. Let her adjust. Just… let her.

Later that night, the lights go off and Eva dozes off as the exhaustion sets in, sleeping towards the next training day.

…

…

…

Out of nowhere, a hand grasps her throat. Eva wakes up, wheezing and clenching her throat. Through the darkness, she sees the silhouette of two lekkus hanging down. Two eyes glow yellow and stare at her so cold and fierce like they are possessed by a vengeful spirit. Fear and anxiety flash through her like lightning as Eva realises it’s her, the Twi’lek from the woods. Eva’s legs flounder, kicking the blanket off her bed and trying to free herself with agony. 

Without thought, Eva clasps the Twi’lek’s shoulder, forces her feet against the wall, and pushes the Twi’lek off of her bed with a scream. They topple over and Eva smacks into the floor with her chin. Instantly, she gets up, but to her shock, the Twi’lek is not there. 

Bedazzled, her mind spins around in chaos, still adjusting to the sudden fall from her bed. As Eva stabilises herself, she turns to her squadmates with panic growing.

“Guys!” She stammers, loudly, but her heart sinks in her chest as she sees the barrack is completely empty. The beds show no signs of having ever been used. The blankets are tidy and devoid of wrinkles, her squad gone. Where are they?

Slowly, Eva realises she’s not awake. This must be a nightmare. How is that possible? Eva squeezes in her arm but she quickly feels pain. Something isn’t right.

Then, she hears something outside the barracks, barely audible, the faint howling of something. With the adrenaline pumping through her veins, Eva walks towards the door and steps outside. She’s met with a bright flare before her, burning through her eyes and scorching her skin. Eva covers her eyes with her hands until they adjust, and sees flames taller than buildings erupting from the debris. Everywhere is fire, burning away what once Malmstrom Training Ground was. 

The howling flames hypnotise her as Eva stumbles forward. What. The hell. Is going on.

This can’t be a nightmare. The heat on her skin feels so real. Did she overdose herself with Conergin? No, she couldn’t have. She only took two, the usual dosage.

Then, as she stumbles further, Eva’s heart sinks in her chest. There, silhouettes of four Deathtroopers, bearing the insignia of the ISB, bow over a figure. Looking better, Eva sees Eline with her long, blond hair and her cybernetic arm. Eva freezes. Her heart stops.

Eline, sitting with her knees in the mud, glances at her. The flames dance in her eyes with tears, sobbing with agony.

“Eva.”

She jolts around. Behind her, she sees the Twi’lek standing in front of her, holding her yellow lightsaber, ready to slash. Her white robes whirl in a strong breeze and her pink pupils reflect the flames. 

“I can save her,” the tailhead whispers.

Eva’s eyes water as she turns back and glances at Eline. “What is this?” she whispers.

The Twi’lek snaps. “I can save her, but only if you give me the Artifact.”

Eva looks back at the Twi’lek. “Which Artifact?”

The Twi’lek approaches her until she stands beside her. “The stone.”

“The-, what?”

“Hand it to me,” the Twi’lek snaps. “Only then can I save your sister.”

The Deathtroopers stand back and raise their blasters. Eline gasps and looks at Eva one last time.

“Tell me where it is, now!” 

Instantly, Eva is thrown onto the floor with a bang. Her lungs gasp and her throat burns with pain. Her stomach turns as Eva lies upside down on her head, hanging from her bed, balancing over the edge. Her skin is covered in cold sweat. Her heart is racing like a madman's, as if she ran all the way to Kuat and back with hungry Lurca’s chasing her through the galaxy.

Getting herself on her bed, Eva buries herself in her blankets and sobs, shivering and trembling. That nightmare… it felt horrible. She can still feel the fingers burning in her throat when the Twi’lek strangled her in her bed. It sends shivers down her spine as the tears roll over her cheeks, until her mind replays the flames that danced in Eline’s watery eyes. She sees every second of it happening again until the Deathtrooper’s blaster clicks and everything ends. Every bit of safety crumbles away as Eva curls up.

That Twi’lek appeared out of nowhere, strangled her for no reason, here in this barrack, on this army base. Why? How did she get here? Why did she see Eline? What was the Artifact? What were the Deathtroopers doing there? What does the ISB have to do with any of this? Lying down, Eva can’t keep the questions quiet. All night long, she wonders but can’t conclude as long hours pass by until light finally shines through the windows and the alarm clocks buzz. 

Next training day… ugh .

The exact strategy of yesterday is rehearsed. A-team attacks from whatever flank they choose. Eva and the D-team repel them from their stronghold. 

As the wind howls above her, Eva lies low in a foxhole--a deep hole in the ground, still thinking back to yesterday night. She tries to unlock whatever secrets her hellish nightmare might hold. Why did the ISB hold her sister at gunpoint? What did she do? The Twi’lek said she could only be saved if she handed her the Artifact, a stone. What stone? Did she mean the stone Mr Dane gave her when she apprehended the robber at Steelcrane Plaza? Is that what she seeks for? Why? Why would she need it? It makes no sense at all. Things start connecting, but Eva can’t feel for certain.

However, it is clear to her that things are escalating. Even after Eva left her to rest, that Twi’lek is still haunting her sleep, and as her gaze is stuck to the horizon, she loses it. She cannot take it anymore. Her night rest has been plagued for long enough. She cannot stand aside when Eline is pushed to her knees in front of an ISB firing squad. It has to end. No one gets to touch her little sister and her night rest. No one. Not the Padawan, not the ISB.

Forget capturing that Twi’lek for answers. All she desires now is killing that Padawan. These nightmares end with her.

Then, Eva hears muffled footsteps behind her. She looks over her shoulder and sees Daxan jumping down her foxhole with his blaster held across his chest.

“Daxan, you here too?”

He glances at her with a nod. His winter hat is mostly covered by his durasteel helmet. It makes his head seem much bigger than it really is, almost as if his brains is popping out of it. “Yeah, as per instructions. There are no fox holes left so I figured hopping into yours. Hope you don’t mind.”

Rather you than Kuma. Kriffin’ fierfek . Eva still feels pissed for losing the game in The Well because of him.

“Welcome,” Eva responds, and stares through her gunsight.

The battle can start any minute now. The A-team will flood the low hills ahead of her and advance towards her like ants. Which flank they are going to choose is a mystery though. There’s really no way of telling. It’s a waiting game for now, and being encapsulated in this small fox hole with little space to move makes Eva feel a bit anxious. Simultaneously, the waiting game bores her out.

“How’s your nightrest?” Daxan asks. “Is the Conergin working?”

Daxan’s follow-up catches her off guard. “Yeah,” she stammers, leaving out last night. “For the first time in weeks, I’m sleeping like a brick. Thanks.”

Daxan nods with a hum. “Happy to hear that.”

Then, Eva hears shouting erupting from her right. It’s the voice of the foremost scout of the D-team, shouting from his foxhole that the enemy is coming. 

“Blast it, they’re flanking us,” Eva curses, retracting her blaster.

“It’s about time they did,” Daxan responds.

Eva and Daxan reposition in the fox hole to defend their flank. As Eva puts her blaster on the ground, she sees the first soldiers of the A-team straggling over the hills with drawn blasters. Blasterfire erupts as the D-team defends its flanks. The A-team tries to come closer, but the D-team’s continuous hellfire keeps them at bay.

Some try to enforce a breakthrough, but doing that makes them vulnerable and easy to pick for Eva. It almost becomes a snooze fest. 

“Daxan, how’s your squad?” Eva asks, curious. “Is it any good?”

“It’s alright,” he responds. He puts his blaster on the soil next to her and fires too. “Sternheiser is a good guy. Laid back, has some status and is sometimes a bit too proud of it, but he’s a good shot. Might be a good competitor for your hotshot.”

“Ecklund.”

“Yeah, her. Then there’s Kuma. No idea why he got a place here.”

Eva nods. “Him. I’ve met him before. He tried to hit on me in The Well and I lost it because of him.”

Daxan hums. “Uh-huh. Didn’t expect anything else from him.”

Eva glances at him. “He’s done it before?”

“Unfortunately, yeah,” he responds. “He can’t think of anything else but girls. He once asked me in The Well a great philosophical question-”

Blasterfire cuts him off as they fly barely above them. Eva and Daxan pull back their blasters and duck in the foxhole.

“What did he ask you?” Eva shouts at him as the blaster bolts screech overhead.

“Ass or boobs.”

Eva chuckles, rolling her eyes. “Seriously?”

Daxan nods. The blasterfire passes and they both put their blasters back on the soil, continuing to repel the enemy from their stronghold.

“And he has the endurance of a Hutt,” Daxan adds. “Yet, we’re the seventh best of the boys’ section I believe, so we’re magically floating.”

Eva hums. “Not bad.”

“Yeah. We’re not nearly as good as yours, of course. Your squad is like, what, on top? King of the hill?”

“Pretty much, if we’re talking about prestige. Your commander sounds pretty ambitious, taking all of the squads for himself to lead as a whole like a second Amitash.”

“Kirthin? Yeah, but arrogant too, thinks he’s better than the rest of the squad. In some way he is, I mean he’s the most ambitious of all of us, but he’s so focused on climbing that he’s overpowering.”

“That’s why you’re seventh?” Eva asks.

Daxan shrugs. “Not sure if I can shove it all onto him. I mean, we’re all a bit lazy with protocols and duty, but he definitely has a role in our low ranking.”

“What do you mean lazy? As in, unwilling to follow or search the edges of what the taskmasters and such allow?”

“A bit of both.”

“And you?”

“Me too, a little bit. I own an arrowhead, a speederbike,” and he gets interrupted by blaster bolts hitting the ground barely away from him. 

They both duck until the rain of blasterfire passes them. They put their blasters back on the soil and continue to repel the enemy.

“A speederbike, huh?” Eva asks with her heart pounding in her chest. It reminds her of Ashara and her time spending on the speederbike of her boyfriend.

“Sometimes, when I feel sick or need some time on my own, I go out and shriek through the roads at 150 an hour. Truly refreshing.”

Eva’s eyebrows rise. It surprises her that a young boy like Daxan already owns a speederbike. Until the age of eighteen, teenagers are not allowed to drive anywhere on Vaulent 6. Driving schools train soon-to-be drivers. Their driver’s test will indicate whether the person can drive their speeder- or speederbike safely through the roads. Eva doubts Daxan has already gone through all of that, and even if it was possible, it would still be illegal. It would still be joyriding, and Eva wonders who Daxan really, really , is. 

After the rehearsals end with errors on Peyton’s part, Eva follows her squad back to the barracks. Undressing her armour suit there, Eva’s thoughts linger to her nightmare of last night. If she wants to save her nightrest, she’ll have to act. If she wants to act, she’ll have to ask Peyton first. The last time she did something without notifying anyone caused her to miss her promotion, and Eva won’t let it happen again.

Eva finds Peyton at the refreshing building throwing her wet towel into the laundromat in her tank top. The moist clings to the ceiling as steam rises from one of the enclosed showers.

“Peyt, can I speak with you?” she asks

Peyton hums as she keeps her eyes on the laundromat and presses some buttons. Her dark, wet hair reflects the ceiling lights a little.  “Sure.”

Eva takes a deep breath. “You and Roslin convinced me to let go of that tailhead.”

The laundromat rumbles and shakes a little until Peyton slams it with her fist. 

“Well, I’m afraid I can’t,” Eva continues, stammering.

Peyton makes eyecontact with her. “Eva, what do you mean?”

“What I mean is that I can’t stay here and do nothing. The problem I have with her is much bigger than you realise.”

Peyton crosses her arms. “Really? You-, you understand why we told you, almost ordered you, to forget that alien?”

“I do, but she-”

“-got too much on your nerves,” Peyton snaps. “It’s not something you should focus on. It’s a dangerous fugitive, nothing more. How is her problem that much bigger?”

Eva steps away with the discomfort brewing in her chest. She’ll have to tell Peyton about the toll it takes on her sanity. It might be a valid argument, but it’s not one Eva likes to bring up either. She’s a top soldier who keeps having nightmares. It makes her feel like she’s a little child.

“I’m not sure how I should explain it in the best way,” she stammers, “but I’ve been having nightmares for a week and can’t sleep because of her. My sanity just can’t take it any longer.”

Peyton glances away with discomfort hinting in her eyes. “Have you visited the doctor?”

“I did, told me I had nothing.”

“Are you sure? No PTSD, no traumas, no-”

“I have nothing,” Eva snaps, clenching her fists, “but I keep having these nightmares and dreams about that Twi’lek and it’s getting harder to cope with them. Last night’s hell, I saw flames burning away this place. You convinced me to let go of it, but I can’t. I have to do something.”

Peyton lets out a long sigh. “I get why you want to do something, but you have to accept that sometimes, you simply can’t,” she says, her voice soft. “The squad is already with one less. I can’t afford to lose one more. We are the strongest when we’re together, we’re the weakest when we’re on our own. We’ll fail the training and I can’t afford that in front of Captain Amitash. Besides, the Army and the ISB are cracking down on her. She’s not ours to eliminate.”

“But-, Peyton,” Eva nearly shouts at her. “I can’t act as if there’s nothing wrong! I can’t sleep. I’m not going to make the same mistake as you. You knew the northern flank was under attack, but you did nothing. That caused us to lose. I’m not going to do the same thing, doing nothing but watching while everything burns away.”

“Eva, it was my first time as commander.”

“Doesn’t matter. If there’s a problem, you should respond and try to fix it.”

“But this is something so different!” Peyton snaps. “You are proposing to go AWOL. Again. And I can’t work with a squad of just three of us.”

“Peyton, if your life depended on you going against the rules, what would you do?”

Peyton falls silent.

“Emergency breaks law. Even if you tell me not to go, I’m still going. I just-, want to sleep on my own again.”

Peyton exhales sharply and gazes away. “Fine. I get it,” she whispers, calmly. “Make it worth it.”

“Will do,” and Eva turns away.

“Oh and,” says Peyton.

Eva turns back. 

“I know you’re more of a solo player, but if you need help,” says Peyton, “the squad’s always standing by.”

Eva nods with a smile. “Thanks. I appreciate it. Tell them I’m sick.”

“Got it. Me and Ashara will work on that. Best of luck.”

Eva nods and leaves Peyton in the refreshing building. She sprints to her barracks and grabs her stuff. She stuffs her backpack with a first-aid kit, two batteries, and inserts her E-10 in her holster.

With all the stuff she needs—not much to begin with, Eva steps out of her barracks, swinging her backpack over her shoulder. Now that she’s gotten permission to go, she has to arrange a ride to the Capital. She’s gotten an idea of how to start. Since these nightmares have started with Mr Dane’s slab of stone he gifted her. And apparently, the stone holds some value for the Twi’lek since she told her she needed it. At least, that’s what she thinks. She may have said it in her dreams, but not to her face. She can’t be for certain whether it really holds value to her at all. However, it might be a good idea to start there. All she needs is a ride.

Eva remembers that Daxan owns an arrowhead. Perhaps he is able to help her out. She doesn’t like asking a boy for help ever since that fierfek tried to hit on her in The Well. The last thing she needs right now is distraction and this mission requires the least of that. However, she has few options to pick.

After having been pointed in a direction by one of his squadmembers, Eva finds Daxan just outside the main entrance gate of the base, lighting a cig with some others. His dark eyes shift to her as she approaches the group.

“Hi, Daxan,” Eva stammers. 

“Good evening, Ms Eva,” Daxan greets with a nod. “Joining our tea party?”

Some chuckle.

“Do you have time?” Eva asks, unbothered. “I need to speak with you.”

A boy leans forward. “Oh man, you got some trouble with the Rebel scum killer. Watch out.”

Daxan smirks. “Shut up, Sternheiser.” He turns to Eva. “Like, now?”

Eva hums with a nod. “Now.”

“Well, alright.” He drops his cig and squashes it with his boots.

Eva walks away as Daxan catches up. “You seem in a hurry.”

Eva stops in the middle of the parking lot. “Yeah. Quite the hurry. I’m on a mission and I need a ride to the Academy.”

Daxan smiles. “A mission? Well, then you’re at the right place. I offer everything you need, my arrowhead included.”

Eva nods. “Great.”

“So I’m on the mission too?” Daxan asks, excitedly.

Eva hums. “You’re hired.”

“That-, that’s astral,” he remarks, smiling. “It’s an hon-”

“Where’s your speeder?” Eva cuts him off. 

“Right,” Daxan responds and he points at a speederbike at the end of the parking lot. “It’s right there.”

They walk towards it and Eva sees it’s a well-maintained speeder. Not as well-maintained as her dad’s speeder once was though. That speeder was sparkling and shining every day as if it just rolled out of the factory. Daxan’s arrowhead seems lightly weathered, fighting the outside elements every day, but it’s in good condition.

“Step aboard, Ms Eva,” says Daxan as he steps onto the forward driver seat. 

Eva hops onto the bike behind him, holding onto the cold frame of his speeder as she tilts her head over his shoulder to speak. “Just call me Eva, okay?”

Daxan flips the switch and the engine starts to howl like a monster. “What? Can’t hear you.”

Eva rolls her eyes. Sleemo.

Daxan pushes the accelerator pedal. He turns the speeder and they shriek away towards a new adventure full of danger.

Chapter Text

The light poles flash past in a blur, mesmerising Eva as she speeds over the desolate roads towards the Capital. The stormy wind is caught in her hair as Eva tries to keep the strands out of her eyes, but doing so is difficult with one hand almost glued to the speeder’s frame. Racing so fast makes her heart pound with anxiety as she looks over the shoulder of Daxan in front of her, wondering how he got his speeder. Nobody gets them out of nowhere here on Vaulent 6.

The distant skyscrapers of the Capital loom through the night fog as Eva glances at him. “Daxan. You’re a little bit… too young to own a bike,” she stammers. “How did you get it?”

Daxan tilts his head to her a little while keeping his eyes on the road. “Dad was a mechanic. Owned a garage at Flintston Road. He spent every free moment working on his speederbike he bought for cheap. Kept upgrading and upgrading it until it became a beast.” He chuckles. “Yeah, he always took a look at it before he went to sleep--until the damn thing happened.” Eva hears a hint of pain in his voice, hiding in his words, but still noticeably present. “And so, his speeder passed down to me, and now I’m driving it,” he says, glancing shortly over his shoulder at her.

Eva hums with a nod. “I’m sorry for the loss. I’m glad you got his speederbike in return. You know, it must be an emotional keepsake, something to feel like he’s still there.” 

“It is,” Daxan responds. “Everywhere I go, he’s always with me. It always makes me feel at ease. What’s that part of your story?”

“My blaster,” Eva responds. “Dad was a manufacturer at BlasTech.”

“BlasTech huh? Prestigious job.”

“Yeah, quite the job.” The memories of walking through the BlasTech facility with the assembly lines stretching into infinity flash before her eyes, rushing back with warmth as she feels the warm feeling in her hands when dad kept her with him, trying to hold her back from running through the hallways with amazement. The flashing light poles feel mesmerising, thinking back to it all.

Eva zips the pocket of her jacket open and pulls out dad’s wedding necklace, still shining in her hands after all the proton bombs and firefights it endured when Eva took it on her journey. Now, it sits in her pockets, though still spotless, but not shining as much in the moonlight as it did before. It feels a little bit wrong to not wear it as much as she used to, but Eva understands that a shining necklace in the dark can betray her costless position to Rebel insurgents.

The bracelet Eline gave to her still sits tightly around her arm, just below the wrist, its little blocks with as many colours as the rainbow.

“Anyway, the city is up ahead. Where should I put you off?”

Eva shoves her thoughts off and puts the necklace carefully back into her pocket, zipping it shut. “The Academy. Need to pick something up.”

“On my way.”

Suddenly, Daxan pushes the pedal further and Eva almost falls off her seat, clinging tightly to the speeder with two, sweaty hands. As they enter the Capital, the dense traffic slows them down, finally letting Eva breathe. They arrive at the Academy and Eva steps off. Quickly, she races through the bleak hallways to her barracks. Opening the door, she finds the stone sitting on her nightstand, the same way as when she left it. It is the thing the Twi’lek needs for some reason. Perhaps Mr Dane can tell her more about it. He’s the one who possessed it for quite some time.

“Got everything?” Daxan asks as Eva returns from the entrance gates.

Eva hums and steps onto his bike, sitting behind him. “Got everything.”

“Did security say something?” he asks.

“Nah, too busy getting their Caf machine working again.”

Daxan chuckles. “Of course. Budget cuts, huh?” He flips the ignition and the engine starts howling with power. “Where to?”

“Tarkinstreet Soi 9,” Eva responds.

Daxan steers away from the sidewalk and pushes the pedal and shrieks away.

As they drive towards the home of Mr Dane, Eva wonders whether he knew about this stone’s importance. Apparently, it is important to that Twi’lek supermonster. Surely, he must’ve known that it held value. Well, apparently, he did not. Did he genuinely not know what it was, that it was so important that even the Alliance wanted it? There are some things that do not seem to add up. Time to get answers from Mr Dane himself.

As they stop at a red light, Daxan moves his chin up a little. “Care to explain what we are doing?”

“Well…” Eva stops in her words and hesitates. Does he need to know everything if he’s just her driver? What will he say if she tells him she’s having nightmares? She would look like a little child to him, unable to sleep because of some silly, bad dreams that don’t stop. Better maintain the image of the perfect soldier rather than getting jokes slapped in her face. She cannot mouth off. She has to be careful with what slips out. “I found some information,” Eva stammers. “I need someone to verify it, you know.”

“Interesting,” says Daxan. “Some spy-detective work, eh?”

Eva hums.

“Is it related to the Rebels?”

“I’m not sure.”

Daxan nods and remains silent.

As they drive over Tarkinstreet, Eva counts the Soi they pass. Sidestreets of major streets in Vaulent Capital are called Soi and numbered. Eva finds Soi 5, 7, and at last, Soi 9.

Daxan drives into Soi 9, leaving the busy street. It is desolate as damp fumes rise from the sewer vents in the tarmac. The streetlights illuminate the street in a faint, yellow hue as Eva focuses her eyes on the house numbers of the apartment blocks. 50. 55. 60. 65. 

“Stop,” Eva snaps.

Daxan slows down gradually and drives into an empty parking lot. As he turns off his speeder bike, Eva jumps off and walks to house number 65. This is the apartment where the old man lives. Eva looks up and sees all the windows above her are lit, including that of Mr Dane’s floor. He’s home.

As Daxan catches up, Eva suddenly feels a cold wave over her neck, rippling through her skin. She stops in her tracks, her hand hovering over the door button. It is the sensation of two burning eyes staring at her from afar. Someone is watching her. With cold shivers, Eva turns around with a pounding heart, looking at the street, the bustling road afar, the building tops, the windows, but there is nothing, except for a stray Loth cat sleeping on the lid of a garbage container in a desolate alley. The neighborhood is virtually dead. Yet, she can still feel the sensation of someone looking at her. 

Eva’s eyes land on the loth cat. This time, it’s looking at her with less of a mild intrigue in its bright, yellow eyes, awoken to her presence. However, its bleak eyes stare straight into her soul fiercely, captivating her until she forces herself to press the door button. She steps inside with electrified nerves, slight panicky. Why, why, why did that loth cat look so sinister at me? 

Even then, as the door closes behind her with creaking hinges, Eva cannot shake off the burning feel on her back. Okay, okay. Nothing to worry about, nothing to worry about…

The staircase is bleak and monotone, devoid of any scent or colour, except for the holographic posters on the walls screaming with vibrant colour. Does it fit? Wear it!

Eva climbs the staircase until she arrives at the door of resident 68, the home of Mr Dane. “Here it is,” and she presses the doorbell. Inside, a monotone, low-pitch hum rings.

Daxan takes a deep gasp as he catches up with her. “So… your verification-guy lives here?”

“Yeah. It’s someone I know from long ago,” Eva responds. 

The door slides into the wall with Mr Dane standing in the hallway of his home. His eyes shine with surprise. “Ms Eva, good evening,” he greets. 

A thin smile forms on her face. “Good evening, Mr Dane.”

Daxan quickly shakes Dane’s hand and introduces himself. “Daxan.”

“I have some information I need to verify,” Eva asks. “Is it okay that I come by, so late?”

“Of course, mistress,” he says with a smile. “It is a surprise to be sure, but a welcome one, even so late. Come on in. Do you two want a cup of Caf?”

Eva steps inside with Daxan following her. “Yes, please.”

“No, thank you.”

“Hopefully, yours are better than at the Academy,” Eva smirks.

“Oh certainly!” Mr Dane smiles.

Coming into the living room, Eva stumbles into a sea of treasures. Old, but shining furniture fills the room with old, sparkling antiques filling cabinets and shelves. The atmosphere turns into a sparkling haze of a majestic, golden hue, reflected by all the relics in the room. Mighty chandeliers hang from the ceiling. It’s like a time capsule of thousands of years ago. The burning feeling on the back of her neck vanishes a little, but Eva can still feel like it’s there, whispering to her from the far corners.

“Please, do not touch anything here,” says Mr Dane, walking slower than a Hutt with his old cane. 

With bewilderment, Eva gazes around, scanning his precious antiquities with awe. It’s like a museum. More than that, even.  “It looks amazing,” she murmurs.

Daxan smirks softly. “Everything looks the same to me.”

“I did not know you have so much at home, Mr Dane,” says Eva. “How much do you have?”

Dane chuckles, looking over his shoulder as his walking cane makes light taps on the ceramic floor. “Too, too much, mistress, but for example,” and he starts pointing out at the various things he has lying around with his cane. “A Mandalorian armour piece of the time of Tarre Vizsla, reunifier of the Mandalorian people, ruling with the iron hilt of the Darksaber. That shining cube over there, a datacron of the time of the Old Republic of centuries and centuries ago. Only a special type of person could reveal its precious treasure inside. The head of a B1 Battle Droid that once took part in the besiegement of Naboo forty years ago, moving in waves of unstoppable, unyielding force. And of course its later enemy, the Clonetroopers with this one once belonging to the 212th Attack Battalion.”

Eva’s eyes land on the bleak, weathered helmet of a Clonetrooper with faded yellow stripes, lying on a shelf put against the wall. Its black visor is cracked and broken. Though its old age is visible through the cracks, there is not a single spot of dust anywhere on the helmet.

Daxan stops by and looks closer at the helmet. “Cloners, huh?”

“Cloners indeed. Millions of soldiers made from one. Highly effective, they were,” adds Mr Dane. 

“If so, why are they gone?” Daxan asks, his eyes still glued to the helmet. 

“They were deemed unnecessary. The galaxy did not need them anymore.”

Eva shifts her weight from foot to foot with unease. The business is starting to derail into trivial chatter. 

“Once the Galactic Empire was installed, the Clone Army was deemed too expensive to maintain, only usable on a massive scale of galaxy wide war, but when it all ended, the galaxy had changed. More loyal conscripts could fight at half the cost, so-,”

“Mr Dane,” Eva snaps, calmly.

He stops.

“A cup of Caf please,” Eva repeats with half a smile.

Mr Dane nods, expressing his understanding. “Of course, of course. I will be with you in a short moment.”

Mr Dane disappears into the kitchen, slowly, and Eva glances at Daxan. “Just business, okay?”

Daxan shrugs. “Yeah, of course, but why the haste?”

Eva takes a deep breath and steps closer to him. “I don’t feel very comfortable here.”

“Is there something wrong here?” Daxan asks, and he gazes around, quickly. “If it’s all the dusty, old stuff here, I get it.”

“It’s not that, exactly,” Eva sighs. Even though it feels safe here, the whispers remain to put her nerves on constant alert. “I’m not sure what it is,” she sighs.

Crossing her arms with unease electrifying her nerves, Eva looks down at her waist and sees her blaster is still with her, hanging from her belt. At least there is some assurance she can hold onto. Daxan does not have a blaster though. Hopefully, that won’t be a problem.

“So, whatever that man will tell you, do you want me to listen?”

“I’d rather not,” Eva stammers. “I hope you don’t mind. It’s a little bit too personal.”

“No, that’s fine,” Daxan responds. “I’ll be outside the door, taking a smoker.”

Eva hums. So, you’re a heavy smoker, huh?

As Mr Dane returns with a tablet with a cup of steaming Caf, he turns to Eva with a curious look. “So, madam. To what do I owe your lovely presence here?”

Daxan glances at Eva. She nods. He nods too and walks away, leaving the two behind.

Eva swings her backpack from her back. “Answers,” and she zips it open and pulls out the slab of stone. “Answers regarding this thing.”

Mr Dane’s old eyes twinkle with intrigue, raising his wrinkled eyebrows. “Of course, the present I gifted you. May I?” 

Eva hums and lets Mr Dane take the slab from her arms. She drops her backpack on the floor and shoves it aside with her foot. She takes a sip from her Caf and immediately, the taste overflows her tastebuds. Eva almost shudders by the explosion of taste in her mouth.

“Certainly better than at the Academy,” Eva hums.

Mr Dane smiles. “The best investment anyone can make is a good brewing machine.”

Eva smirks. “Only if the high peeps thought like that…”

Mr Dane nods and shifts his attention to the stone. “This lovely artifact,” he hums, glancing shortly at Eva before his eyes are drawn back to the stone. “Beautiful. I cannot stop looking at it, drawing my fingers over the elegantly inscribed lines. Astronomically elegant. So, madam, fire away.”

“Well, I-, I’m not sure where to start,” Eva stammers. “It’s a long story.”

“Start at the beginning,” Mr Dane responds. “It’s when I gifted this to you.”

“Yes, yes. I took it to the Academy, put it on my nightstand and kept it safe,” Eva starts, and she tells Mr Dane about the dreams that turned into nightmares, the shipwreck, the Twi’lek and her fiery saber, and her last nightmare with Eline on her knees and the ISB firing squad. With every sentence, Eva can notice the pupils of Mr Dane growing larger and larger with intrigue, listening in silence. “This Twi’lek has been taking away my nights. I want it to stop.”

Mr Dane nods. “This power you describe, it is something I have not heard in years. Lifting objects in the air, pushing and pulling things with air, a weapon of light—decades, even.”

Eva raises her eyebrows. People have known of this power too? “You know this… thing?”

“Oh yes,” said Mr Dane. “It was a power everyone of early age wanted to master.”

“What? This sorcery—it was a profession? A 9-to-5 job?”

Mr Dane smirks. “No, no, it is more than that,” and then his tone immediately shifts more seriously. “But… I am not on the ISB watchlist, am I?” speaking softly, as if to not alert any listening devices.

Eva chuckles. “No, I don’t think so. Unless you’ve stolen all of these things in your old days.”

Mr Dane smiles. “Well, in that case, in my early days, very early--before the age of the Empire, most of the galaxy was protected by an order of knights, maintaining peace throughout the Rims. Your story makes me think that this artifact belongs to the kind of the Twi’lek, to her order… at last, it is making sense.”

Eva scoffs. “Making sense? How? This alien showed up out of a derelict ship and started wrecking the base with mystical power. How does all of this make sense? What does this stone have to do with all of this?”

Mr Dane starts walking away with his cane, seemingly processing the story as he nods slightly. “Most of your story makes sense to me, in historical context at least. An alien of mystical power—it is the story of the Jedi.”

“The Jedi?” Eva can’t recall what it exactly means. All she knows is that it is on the mission verbatim of the Imperial Security Bureau. They hunt those kinds of… things.

“An ancient order of sorcerers, wielding the power of the Force” says Mr Dane. “Many civilisations following the old ways of life describe this galactic power… or sorcery, in their sacred texts. But it is the Jedi that have used it to shape the galaxy in the past millennium.”

Eva listens, paying close attention. “To shape the galaxy?”

Mr Dane nods with a smile. “They had power,” he smirked.

Eva’s eyes drift away. Holy shit. It’s already getting a bit too much for her to process. “And this Twi’lek,” she stammers, “is she part of this order?”

“With what you have described, most likely, yes,” Mr Dane responds, glancing at her, shortly. “This Twi’lek, how old was she?”

“Same age as me, I think,” Eva shrugs.

“Same age as you,” Mr Dane ponders. “The Jedi Order was organised into different ranks. Master, Knight, Sentinel… your suspect most likely wore the rank of Padawan.”

“Oh right, yes, she called herself that, a Padawan,” Eva stammers. “What does it mean?”

“A Padawan is a pupil, an apprentice of a Master or a Knight, trained into the ways of the Jedi.”

“And this order, where is it?”

Mr Dane smirks. “I fear it is no longer alive. You see,” and he grasps her shoulder firmly, swaying with his hand as if it is a magical, grand story he is telling, “the Jedi Order attempted to seize control over the Senate, or so it was told. The Jedi tried to assassinate the Chancellor, which turned the entire Grand Army and the Senate against the Jedi Order, killing all of them in a single night. This Padawan seems to be a survivor. A lone survivor.”

Eva nods, swallowing heavily as she tries to process all the information. “What about the stone?” she asks, hoarse.

“I am uncertain of what its relation to the Jedi could be,” Mr Dane responds, furrowing his eyebrows. “The Force can take many forms and shapes, woods and stones. It is a mystery no ordinary person can comprehend. But it is very clear that this object is connected to the Jedi Order, or the Force. Whatever it is connected to, both options are terrifying.”

Eva nods. “So… a cosmic supermonster,” she sighs. “I’m dealing with a cosmic sorcerer.” The courage depletes like ice before the sun and with a heavy sigh with a sunken heart, she pivots around, unable of what to think now.

“Not just a sorcerer,” says Mr Dane. “A guardian. The knight of the light. That is what you are dealing with, mistress.”

“A knight,” Eva whispers with a sigh and reaches to her forehead.

A knight of the light. Eva starts to understand what she is really facing. Not just any threat like Lu or the Rebel Alliance and its bright flame, but a knight of an order of ancient sorcerers. Lu, even with her skills as a Rebel operative working from the shadows, sabotaging and assassinating, is a peasant compared to this Jedi.

“A knight…” Eva repeats. “A knight of cosmic power.”

Mr Dane smirks. “It is something else than your usual dosage of rounding up Rebel activity, is it not?”

Eva chuckles nervously. “I guess,” she whispers. With uncertainty, Eva runs her fingers through her strands of hair, unsure of what to do against this sorcerer. Things were already complicated, but now, even more so. 

A soft alarm erupts in the kitchen behind Mr Dane, beeping into the livingroom. The gentleman glances over his shoulder. “Ah, my tea,” and he glances back at Eva. “I am sorry, Ms Eva, I will be right back with you.”

He disappears into the kitchen, slowly, giving Eva the room to breathe. Eva backs away and leans against the hard backrest of the sofa as the information is slowly sinking in. Her eyes gaze into oblivion, stuck to the warm, wooden floor as her hands squeeze the sofa’s backrest as her thoughts twist and twist. The more she thinks back to the Twi’lek, the more she believes it is a miracle she even survived her violent brawls. It has been a few days since the Padawan broke free from Malmstrom Training Ground. Since that day, the Twi’lek survived the hunting parties of the Army. Dozens of troopers and Scout Walkers…

The Twi’lek is not simply a skilled operative, trained by an excellent espionage agency. She’s a sorcerer, a knight, a Jedi, the apprentice of an even more powerful Jedi. If she is capable of such destructive power, any military hardware might be unmatched by a Knight or a Master. Eva realises that she can’t let the Twi’lek find other survivors of this Jedi Order. The urge to stop her grows grimly, not only for her own sake, but for the sake of the entire Empire and the people.

Eva buries her face in her hands, uncertain of how to proceed. But there is still a spark of hope sparkling from deep within. It should still be possible to stop such a cosmic force, and though the hints of doubt whisper from the corners of her mind, Eva feels convinced that there is a way to handle this. That Twi’lek must have a weakspot, right? Something Eva can use, a gap in this Jedi religion, a temptation or something, a backdoor. There must be something she can use to take the Twi’lek down, right? Right?

As Mr Dane stays longer away, the question starts burning in her mind, screaming to be answered, and Eva cannot hold in the urge anymore. It is a question she cannot hold quiet.

Clenching her fists as she’s unable to hold in the question, Eva hurries to the kitchen, her feet pounding on the floor. “Mr Dane. The Jedi, do they have a-,”

A screech erupts next to her with sparks crashing into her face. Eva shrieks and stumbles back, falling on the floor. Gasping, Eva crawls away and slams her back into the wall, her nerves burning.

Someone fired at her. Who? Who the hell is in here?

Slowly, with a pounding heart, Eva gets up and carefully peers around the corner, her heart beating as if it is in her throat. Moving in the kitchen, Eva sees four figures in the kitchen, armed with drawn A280 blaster rifles. Who the hell are they?

Her eyes slowly draw to a slumped body leaning against the kitchen counter. A walking cane rolls slowly over the floortiles, slightly tapping with each full rotation it makes. Eva’s pupils widen as one figure grasps the body’s hand and drags it away over the floor. Mr Dane?

Her gasps become shallow with each shorter than before, her mind running wild. Did they kill him? No. No, it cannot be. And as her thoughts continue to twist, a hint of rage combusts in her chest, enraged as her eyes linger to Mr Dane’s seemingly lifeless body. Her fists clench with anger.

Another blaster bolt hits the doorway and Eva panics, slamming her back into the wall with racing lungs. Her thoughts turn to the figures. Who can they be? Thugs? Robbers? No, that’s not possible. They have A280 rifles. Criminals rarely use them. Who else can they be? 

“Was it her?” a voice whispers.

“I don’t kriffin’ know.”

“Blast it. Get that kid. Stun round.”

Her heart plummets in her chest. Eva curses under her breath as her hands slowly crawl to her blaster hanging from her waist. Dank Ferrik. Well, if you want a fight, you’ll get it, scum.

Eva slowly draws the blaster from her belt and squeezes the grips. From the kitchen, she can hear the heavy, silent taps on the floor, coming closer and closer. Eva squeezes the grips of her blaster until it burns in her hands. 

The thug turns around the corner, expecting to stun a little girl. Instead, Eva pulls the trigger, barraging him immediately in the stomach with blaster fire. His body almost snaps in two by the hellfire piercing his stomach as he slams on the floor, lifeless instantly. The other thugs shake with terror and raise their blasters. Eva hurries back into the living room, jumps over the sofa and takes cover as the rain of fire hurdles over her. The blaster fire pounds in her ears like thunder until the barrage ceases. Crackling fire erupts from the sofa’s backrest, dancing through the prickling smoke.

“Come out, kid!” cries one of the thugs. “Make it easy for yourself. We do not want to hurt you.”

Eva feels like her heart is in her throat, pounding with anxiety as she remains quiet.

“Let’s strike a deal, huh?” one of their voices echoes into the living room, gasping. “This poor, old man is alive. Likely with a broken arm, but alive. We want the Artefact. Let’s exhange. His life with your Artefact.”

What? The Artefact?

The thug’s words echo through her mind as Eva glances frantically at the stone lying on the table behind her. Her pupils grow, her heart slowly sinking into her chest.

They want it. They are here to steal it, and they know she has it. Eva’s thoughts spiral into panic, slowly realising that the only kind of thugs that want the Artefact specifically is the Jedi Twi’lek. These thugs may not be thugs, but Rebels. Rebel scum.

Eva curses under her breath. At least Mr Dane is alive, or so they state. Though they may be Rebels, it is an assurance Eva wants to believe, and so she does. Nonetheless, this has become much more complicated. Now, Rebels are looking for the Artefact as well, a slab of stone, worthless at first sight. It proves its importance.

But it should not be complicated. She just has to fight her way out like she does all the time. Wreak havoc on scum that oppose her. Fellow cadets do not call her the Rebel Scum Killer for nothing. Her jaws clench as her nerves burn with rage, almost feeling their blood running over her hands from their wounds.

“I have a better deal,” Eva cries. “Drop dead!”

Clenching the blaster, Eva rises from her cover and fires into the kitchen, barraging the thugs with fire. One Rebel collapses with a scream. The others take cover and fire back. Eva ducks, pushes up and hurries to the kitchen doorway, takes cover, and fires back.

One shot hits the stove. Sparks fly off, dying down before they touch the floor. Eva gets back to cover and as she peeks around the corner, the two Rebels remain to suppress. Then, her eyes land on the damaged stove and her pupils grow with anxiety. A gap has punched its way through the gaspipe. An invisible cloud of gas rises and accumulates below the ceiling, blurring the lights a little. Some of it leaks into the living room.

Eva slowly lowers her blaster with her nerves electrifying with panic. One wrong hit and the gas might ignite with a fiery explosion as a result. 

Eva gets back to cover and hurries to the sofa where her backpack lies. This home has just become a safety hazard, a potential crematorium. She has to get out of here before a spark ignites it and blasts this apartment in pieces. Okay, okay. Her thoughts run into chaos. Dank Ferrik. Escape plan, escape plan. The hell should I do?

Then, before she can form an escape plan, the living room floods with an orange hue. The blaster fight turns silent instantly. Eva rises from the floor with one hand grasping her backpack and her heart sinks in her chest. The orange blaze burns in her eyes as the kitchen before her is engulfed in flames. Then, an explosion shakes the floor. The blast pushes Eva off of her feet. Screaming, Eva crashes through the window and falls down. The ground races closer until two arms catch her body and Eva slams her head onto the shoulder of someone. The two arms squeeze her, tightly.

“I got you,” Daxan gasps.

The glass shards tingle on the tarmac around her as Eva gasps for air. With her legs on the cold sidewalk, Eva can still feel the heat, scorching her skin. As the feeling of safety slowly sinks in, her lungs finally open up and Eva is able to breathe. Frigid air runs into her lungs, making her shiver as Eva rests her head on Daxan’s shoulder, unable to speak.

“I got you…” Daxan whispers, his voice shivering.

Eva breathes out one last gasp. Wait… The stone.

Her nerves ignite immediately. The stone… she left it in the apartment. What happened to it? She has to get it back.

“The stone,” Eva stammers, hoarsely, and with pain in her muscles, she pushes herself off of Daxan.

Eva glances shortly at the boy. His worrisome eyes reflect a hint of something else she cannot place. 

“Come on,” says Eva, getting up, and she extends her hand to him. “There are Rebels. They don’t catch themselves.”

Daxan lets out a sigh and presses his lips. “Yeah, figured that out,” and he takes her hand and gets up.

As Eva grasps her backpack and her blaster from the ground, she hears the engine of a speeder coming closer from a dark alley. Light burns through the darkness until two speeder bikes race out. In the short window of time, Eva makes eye contact with one of the drivers. It is the same Rebel from Dane’s apartment. Behind him sits another Rebel, his metal backpack strapped tightly, and Eva realises that they have the Artefact now and are running away with it.

“No, no, shit!” Eva cries and she runs back to Daxan. “Get the speeder running!”

Eva hops onto his bike as Daxan flips the ignition.

An alerted neighbor runs out of his apartment on the other side of the street. “Hey! What happened?”

Daxan drives out of the parking lot, nearly crashing into the speeder cab in front of him.

Eva glances at the neighbor. “Call an ambulance for 68, there’s a man in the kitchen!” she cries. “Bye!” and before the man can reply, they shriek away.

As Eva holds tightly onto the bike’s frame, she looks over Daxan’s shoulder and sees the speeder bikes of the Rebels in the distance, racing through the desolate streets with a roaring engine. The lit windows flash past her in a dazzling blur as the stormy wind catches her hair.

“What happened?” Daxan cries.

“Rebels got into the apartment, blew up the gasline and stole the Artefact!”

“E’chuta.”

“Go after them!”

Clinging onto the speeder bike for dear life, Eva’s thoughts dart to Mr Dane. Hopefully, she can trust that one Rebel who offered to exchange his life for the Artefact, but she cannot be certain. The fear for his life remains to chase her.

As Eva keeps her eyes on the speederbikes, the Rebels suddenly split up with one racing into a street and the other emerging onto an avenue. 

“Blast it, they’ve split up!” Daxan cries.

Eva curses under her breath. The other Rebel vanishes beyond the building as Daxan continues to drive straight. Eva hopes the stray-away Rebel does not have the stone, but to her horror, the Rebel they’re following now is making more and more distance. They’re falling behind.

“Dank Ferrik. Keep following!” Eva cries. 

“They’re quick,” Daxan cries. “I don’t think I can keep up for long.”

Eva nods and thinks. If they can’t keep up, she will have to pick the driver off with a blaster. She reaches for her blaster and rests it on Daxan’s shoulder.

Eva tries to aim at the Rebel driver but Daxan’s speeder bike wobbles too much and she risks hitting a very unfortunate bystander. But she knows she has no other choice. She’ll have to give her aim the best she got.

Closing one eye and holding in her breath until it hurts, Eva aims at the Rebel driver. They enter a stretch of newly-laid tarmac, giving Eva the window she needs. The crosshair lands on the Rebel driver and Eva fires away. She hits him in the back. His body falls off, rolling over the tarmac like a ragdoll while his speeder maintains its course and vanishes out of view. The other Rebel lies dead on the sidewalk with his head cracked open like a nutshell.

Eva gasps with relief and hops off. She runs to the Rebel as blood gushes out of his crooked neck. Eva flips the body on its stomach with her feet and zips his backpack open. She rummages through its content. Her hands brush against objects, but none of them feels like the Artefact. Her hands start shaking as the panic grows. Eva zips it further open, nearly tearing the zipper apart and holds the bag upside down. All the trash clatter down, but no Artefact. As the dust falls out of the backpack, her lungs shudder as a haunting conclusion reaches her mind. This Rebel did not have the Artefact. They chased the wrong one. 

“No,” Eva gasps.  “Dank Ferrik,” and she smacks the backpack on the road with anger.

“Didn’t find it?” Daxan cries, catching up, his bike’s engine still running.

Eva shakes her head with frustration, clenching her fists as her thoughts twist into chaos. “No. We followed the wrong one. The other one had it. We should’ve followed the other one. Dank Ferrik, now it’s gone!”

Eva kicks some of the content that sat in the Rebel’s backpack and clasps her forehead. “Now it’s gone. We lost it.”

“Wait, Eva,” Daxan snaps.

“It’s gone! We lost it!”

“Eva-,”

“How are we going to find it!”

“Eva!”

She stops. Her gasps of panic echo through the cold night sky. She glances at Daxan as he holds his finger in the air.

“Hear that?”

Eva calms down her lungs and focuses on the sounds of the city. She can hear the rattling sound of a water drainage, the soft chatter of a HoloVision channel through the walls, the shrieking engines of traffic city blocks away, and her heart pounding like blasterfire.

“Hear what?” Eva asks.

“The sirens,” Daxan responds.

Eva focuses once again and this time, she hears what Daxan means: the sirens of police cruisers softly echoing through the night sky.

“If we’re lucky, Capital Police are chasing the dang Reb,” Daxan responds.

The coin drops. If they follow the sirens, they might end up at police cruisers chasing the Rebel speeder bike through the Capital. “Oh shit,” Eva realises.

They run back to the speeder bike, hop on, and drive away, shrieking towards the sirens. As they emerge out of a street, the Rebel speeder bike shrieks past them, barely missing them. 

“That’s him!” Eva cries, bumping into Daxan’s back with adrenaline.

Daxan brakes as two police cruisers race past them with blaring sirens and flashing lights. Daxan accelerates and tails them as they cross intersections. As the foremost police cruiser comes close enough for a pit maneuver, the Rebel driver twists around on his seat and draws his blaster, hitting the cops. The front window shatters as twinkling shards flood the tarmac. It swerves over the road uncontrollable, nearly hitting the other police cruiser until it crashes into a street light with thunder. The light topples and Daxan swerves out of its way as it crashes onto the road.

Her heart skips a beat as Eva glances over her shoulder at the street light blocking the road and the crashed police cruiser. That… that could’ve been us.

They chase the Rebel onto an avenue towards an intersection. The traffic lights turn red as the Rebel races towards it, distracted by the police cruiser. As the Rebel crosses the lights, a speeder cab shrieks across the intersection and hits the bike. Eva’s heart stops as the Rebel driver flies off of his speeder and smashes onto the tarmac. The police cruiser hits the debris and swerves into a parked speeder cab, crashing into it with a bone-chilling bang.

“E’chuta!” Daxan cries and pounds on the brakes.

Eva smacks into his back as the speeder comes to a stop below the traffic lights. Her pupils grow with disbelief, shocked at the crash she just witnessed. Hopefully, the police officers and the occupants of that speeder cab survived.

That Rebel can die, though.

Eva hops off and sees the Rebel groaning with tormenting pain. He tries to crawl away like an ant over the tarmac with arms covered in blood sparkling in the moonlight. His left leg is crooked in an unnatural way. His knee looks like it has broken apart as blood gushes out. Seeing him move like an insect makes rage combust in her chest. This scum had the guts to mug Mr Dane, an old, poor man who did nothing wrong. 

The Rebel glances at her with the fear etched on his  watery eyes begging for mercy.

Eva cocks her blaster and aims at him with sharp eyes. “Rebel scum,” and blasts his face open.

Another one, gone from this galaxy. 

Eva reaches for his bloody backpack and zips it open. Her hand rummage hastily through its content until she feels the elegant lines of the Artefact. Her heart floods with relief as she pulls the stone out of the backpack, well and whole. With relief, Eva lowers the stone into her backpack carefully and hops onto Daxan’s speeder bike.

Eva glances at the crashed police cruiser. Its engine smokes and the headlights flicker as the two police officers try to climb out of the crooked windows.

One of them sees her. “Hey, stop!”

Eva waves. “Glad you’re OK,” and she taps on Daxan’s shoulder. “Let’s get going.”

Daxan pushes the pedals and shrieks away, leaving the two officers behind with a dead Rebel and a pool of dark blood gushing into the sewers.

***

So, what has she learned? A game of Dejarrik can be won with the simplest setpieces, but when the opponent has its hand on one, powerful asset, the odds become slim. A knight of an ancient order of sorcerers is a whole lot. They once ruled the galaxy and at one point, attempted seizing the Senate’s control. This Jedi tailhead is a dangerous opponent Eva is not sure she can take, but she is sure that the Padawan has a weak spot. Anyone has, even the strongest setpieces of Dejarrik.

However, listening to the whispers of the story Mr Dane told her makes her grow weary. Her thoughts slowly drift away to a void of absence, her eyes unable to stay open. Eva carefully rests her head against Daxan’s back as the city lights hypnotise her with exhaustion. Her muscles ache and her forehead feels like it’s burning, from the gas explosion that blasted her away. The lit windows leak into vague lines as the darkness slowly dances around the edges of her vision.

Then, Eva smacks into Daxan’s back violently and opens her eyes. She squeezes the bike’s frame as Daxan turns his speeder into a desolate alley and stops.

With her heart pounding, Eva glances over his shoulder, confused and nervous. Why the stop? Were they followed? Did he spot something?

Daxan switches off the engine, and seemingly gazes ahead with uncertainty. He lets out a sigh and steps off and glances at her with frustration in the corner of his eyes.

Eva remains silent as Daxan taps with his foot lightly on the tarmac, unsure of what to do next. His pondering leaves Eva with more confusion. Is something bothering him? 

After a long pause, he finally speaks up. “You and I have something to discuss.”

Eva’s eyes cast downward at the tarmac until she shakes her head. “No? Do we?”

“Yes, we do,” Daxan responds. “I thought I was going to take you from A to B.” He shakes his head. “Apparently not.”

Eva glances at the sky, unsure of the whole ordeal. “Is there a problem? I needed a ride. You wanted to be on the mission. Fine.”

“That is not what I mean.” He takes a big gasp of air, his chest expanding a little. “Honestly, I was a little bit too enthusiastic. I did not expect very much, but you kept things from me. You kept things vague.”

Eva shrugs. “Yeah, of course I keep things for myself. I don’t want my personal things to be known.”

“And I get that. Trust me, I get that. I get it more than you think. But there are things you could have told me that would have helped me. I didn’t know whatever you had was so important to the Rebels. They were willing to blow up a building along with you, possibly me if I stayed with you. You understand what I mean?”

Eva presses her lips. The Rebels did not exactly blow it up. It was more of an accident, but the point still stands. They surely would’ve blown it up. Though she does not want to admit it, she understands where Daxan is coming from, and he is right. She pressed away details that put Daxan in danger. She knew there was danger. She knew that at least the Jedi Padawan was after it. She didn’t know the Rebels were after it though. The Padawan must have sought support from the Rebels after she hunted her through Malmstrom Forest. But she knew there was danger, and she did not warn Daxan about it. She told her nothing about the dangers, and Eva recognises that that was a mistake. A horrible one had Daxan been killed. 

Eva bites her lips with regret as her eyes cast downward with sorry. She nods silently, unable to speak a word as her chest tightens.

Daxan nods. “Look, it happened. We can’t do much about it now, but what matters is that I cannot go back to the Academy or Malstrom Base. I expected to be a driver, not the suspect in a Rebel bombing. I’ve gotten the eyes of Capital Police on me and have probably run an ID on me. Once they find out they were Rebels or that we are cadets of the Academy, they’re going to involve the ISB.”

A hint of fear flickers in Daxan’s eyes. Eva can tell that he is afraid of what he has gotten himself into. However, Eva can see something else and even hear it between the lines of his words. Is he trying to get on the mission? To her, it sounds like he is using the authorities, his fear as an excuse. 

Unease brews within her as Eva leans forward over the bike. “No problem. I can vouch for you.”

Daxan shakes his head. “I’m concerned it won’t be enough. The last time you went AWOL, I heard your squadmembers were interrogated by the ISB for hours.” His voice turns trembling with fear. “Maybe I’m just paranoid--I probably am, but I can’t trust them.”

Eva swallows and glances away as the memories of those days flash before her. Her search for Lu and her Rebel insurgents caught the eyes of the ISB. Her activities were found rebellious, dangerous, and threatening, and made it their mission to capture her with all the manpower they could muster. Eva remembers from Peyton and Ashara that they were interrogated for hours in claustrophobic cubicles, smaller than the detention cells. They helped Eva cover up her activities until they were caught.

She doesn’t wish anyone the ISB treatment that Ashara and Peyton have gotten, friends and strangers. “No one likes them,” she sighs.

“Exactly. I don’t want to see them, so-, so I’m asking you,” Daxan stammers with a hint of nervousness. “I’m asking you to take me in. Let’s be honest, I was never going to be on the mission when you hopped on my bike the first time. You’d have ditched me if things didn’t go differently. But things have changed in my perspective.”

Eva leans back, glancing at him with uncertainty. In her mind, she would rather tell him to go home and trust her that she can vouch for him. She would rather play alone and do this mission solo. But from within, Eva understands Daxan’s fear for the ISB. They truly are ruthless in chasing down any foe that may pose a threat to them and the Empire. Besides, Eva dragged him into this situation. She didn’t tell her true intent. He wouldn’t deserve the consequences.

Eva glances away and lets out a sigh, reluctant to take him in, but she recognises his value as a driver and her own mistake. So, at last, Eva nods. “You’re on.”

Daxan presses his lips with relief, but in his eyes, Eva notices a hint of uncertainty as well.

“Let’s find somewhere to sleep, huh?” says Daxan, hopping onto his bike.

Eva yawns. “Good idea. Go back to Tarkinstreet first. I want to see how he’s doing.”

Daxan nods and flips the ignition, and they shriek away as the stars crawl higher into the night sky. Should she trust Daxan? Was it the right call to have him on the mission? Eva isn’t entirely sure.

Chapter Text

“Imperial forces remain holding the upperhand of authority during times of unrest on Mon Cala. Its people, swayed by the treacherous thoughts of the Alliance, have grown weary of peaceful order-,”

“Lola has found the town’s Stormtrooper! His unwavering look of control shines through dark and night as he keeps guard of the peace around here. Let’s ask him if he has seen any footsteps of Mymy the Bogling.”

With the faint zaps of HoloVision channels in the background, Eva stares at herself in the damp mirror, naked, as she cleans her teeth with a vibrobrush. Its tiny rod vibrates as she pokes it gently between and over her teeth. With the speeder chase and the gas explosion fresh in her memory, Eva cannot stop seeing it all over again in her own eyes in the reflection. Her eyes slowly drift to the burn wound on her forehead, glimmering in the faint fluorescent light of the refreshing room. The adrenaline has already worn out, but the shivers still remain with each blastershot she remembers. 

What happened was so, so unexpected. She thought they were thugs trying to empty the place, but no. They were Rebels. What did Mr Dane owe them? Not a hospital bed, that is for certain.

Eva spits out the toothpaste, flushes her mouth with water, and pulls her panties over her legs and her tank top over her arms. It is deep in the night. Eva should sleep, but even when everything today exhausted her, there is something more important: tomorrow. What is she going to do when sunrise hits? She tries to think but the exhaustion doesn’t help as her thoughts drift to nothing.

Eva gazes down at her feet on the cold ceramic tiles, leaning against the sink, and yawns. She almost ruptures her cheek muscles doing so, but she won’t let herself sleep until she has figured out what to do next tomorrow. Eva shakes her head and slaps herself on the cheek, trying to get some pain to keep herself awake. Ouch. Okay, stay awake now.

Eva leaves the refreshing room with slumped footsteps and enters the bedroom. She stumbles into the stale air of the motel’s room. It is barren and features little—only a double bed, a vidscreen, two chairs and a table, and a small closet. It was the cheapest motel and the cheapest room they could find.

 “Nothing on Holo?” Eva asks.

Daxan, lying half-slumped on the double bed with his winter hat still tightly wrapped around his head, shakes his head with the remote in his hand. Mingled between his fingers sits a cigarette, its smoke curling in the air. “No. Except for the children’s channel. Lola’s Academy is quite good, actually.”

Eva smirks thinly as she approaches the bed and drops herself on the hard mattress on her stomach. It feels like a crash on a concrete floor. Eva sighs with disappointment. “And I thought Malstrom had bad beds.”

Daxan chuckles. “This one takes the cake, huh?”

Eva hums. After a second or two of blank thoughts, she pushes herself upright with her eyes landing on the vidscreen almost instantly.

The sparkling freckles of Lola are sprinkled around her little face as she reaches out to the giant Stormtrooper towering over her like a giant. The brushed shades of grey implode into the screen with monotony, except for Lola’s bright red hair, exploding into Eva’s eyes like a solar flare.

“Mr Stormtrooper?” Lola asks. Her voice is like the chirps of a bird. “Have you seen my friend? She is a bunny. Her name is Mymy. I lost her when I was prepping the blasters.”

The towering Stormtrooper turns his bulky head to the little girl and bends down a little. “If I have seen your bunny? Hmm…”

Eva shakes her head and points at the screen. “He didn’t see anything. Mymy went past him. He only saw a glimpse.”

Daxan glances at her as he takes a drag from his cigarette. The smoke curls in the air. “Are you sure? How do you know?”

Eva shrugs and keeps watching.

The Stormtrooper swivels his bucket. “I thought I saw something like a bunny, though it was in the corner of my eyes…”

Daxan glances at her with a slightly tilted head. “You know this episode from memory, don’t you?”

Eva nods. “I watched this all the time when I was eight.” 

She keeps watching, but the urge of planning out her next steps grows. That is more important than watching Lola finding her pet. She shakes her head. “Put it off, please-, not the pet, the vidscreen.”

Daxan smirks and taps the off button of the remote. 

Eva takes a deep breath. “Thanks.”

Now, back to planning. What should she do tomorrow? Eva closes her eyes, forcing herself to think, but she mostly draws a blank with some puzzle pieces drifting off in her mind. Come on, think of something.

“Trying to think of what to do tomorrow?” Daxan asks.

Eva opens her eyes and nods. “I cannot waste time. I have to plan out our strategy for tomorrow.”

Daxan nods and moves his cigarette to her to take. “Want a drag? It always helps me clear my mind.”

Eva shakes her head with a smile. “Nah, thank you. I don’t smoke. Enjoy.”

Daxan hums and moves back his cig. “So, if you want me to help out, better start at what the gentlemen told you about. I’m surely there is something there.”

Eva presses her lips. She hesitates since it includes some personal things she would rather keep quiet, but Eva recognises she has to tell him if she wants to make steps. So, Eva tells Daxan about the Artefact, the Padawan, her weapon, the order of knights, and the mysterious Force. Unlike Mr Dane’s growing excitement when she told her story, Daxan seems rather nonchalant as if he had heard these things every morning at breakfast.

In the end, Daxan bobs his head up and down, pondering and pondering. “So, we got this super mystical monster, a Jedi. And she wants this Artefact… Okay. What do you want to do to her?”

Eva shrugs. “Kill her, if allowed. Else, capture.”

Daxan nods. “Sounds like what you’d do indeed. What do we know of this Jedi?”

Eva gazes at the black vidscreen with a sigh. “Almost nothing,” and she ponders. I’ll have to understand her if I want to kill her. Yeah, I should start with that—get to know its place, its weaknesses, its origin. Yeah, sounds logical. “We need to understand what we’re up against. She has mystical powers, that’s what we know, but we have to look further. There must be a weakness we can exploit. There must be something.”

Daxan nods. “Jedi. Jedi… I’ve heard about them. They were just whispers, but what I understood is that they were dangerous, but that they were not invincible.”

“Right,” Eva responds. Her voice strains. “They have quite the history—existing for millennia and then be wiped out in a single night. There must be something written about them in the library, right?”

“Likely,” Daxan responds. “Whether they’re available is another thing.”

Eva nods. The Empire regulates a lot of media in libraries. She understands why. It can fuel people with the wrong drive of false information. Whether they have something written about them remains the question, but she should at least try. “Yeah. But we should still look. Maybe they overlooked something. We should try the Capital Library.”

Daxan’s eyes narrow as he thinks over. “Well, that’s the one that is likely the most regulated. Maybe we should try a more local library, one where no rat ever comes. There’s one at Gaalperlake. It's just outside the ring but quite close. Might be local enough.”

That might be better. A local library can possibly be less tightly regulated or inspected by Imperial officers. They might be able to find information there more likely.

Eva agrees. “Yeah. Let’s try there.”

Daxan nods. “Alright. So that’s settled. Second thing in the morning?”

Eva shakes her head. “No, first thing, why?”

“Well, I need to refuel my bike,” Daxan responds, “but I guess I can do that after we’re done at the library.”

Eva nods. Hopefully, she can find information there, at Gaalperlake. If not, it is going to make her fight much harder. The tension rests on her shoulders as Eva clasps her forehead, feeling the stress in her nerves.

“Hey, you’re ‘right?” Daxan asks.

Eva keeps her face buried in her hands and rubs her eyes. “Just the stress,” Eva sighs.

“I’m not surprised,” Daxan responds, studying her. “Perhaps you should slow down a little, get distracted for a-,”

“No,” Eva snaps. She puts her hands on her lap and glances at him. “I don’t have time to slow down. This mission matters to me. I cannot slip.”

Daxan presses his lips. He opens his mouth to respond but stops himself. At last, he nods. “Okay. So… library, first thing.”

First thing indeed, no question.

Eva pulls the blanket closer to her as the darkness surrounds her. She tries to sleep, but the stress of the mission remains to electrify her nerves and put them on constant alert…

Tomorrow. Tomorrow. A new day…

***

The next day.

As the fierce sunlight of the morning shines brightly through the white clouds, Peyton’s fingers dance over the screen of her datapad. Leaning against the exterior wall of the barracks on the concrete foundation, she runs the final diagnostic with a slightly pounding heart of excitement.

Back in the woods when they were hunting the Twi’lek, Peyton discovered the value of a heat signature sensor on her datapad. If she had that, it would have made the hunt much easier. The sensor would pick up the alien’s heat radiation and she would have appeared on her screen as a blob of warmth, hiding among the cold shrubs or the towering trees. It would have been like hunting Tauntauns. 

Though she won’t be able to use it against the Twi’lek, it might be usual during training or raids. If Peyton gets it working, her device would reveal the position of any enemy, Rebel or cadet. It would make everything much easier. A crooked grin forms on Peyton’s face as she realises the massive advantage this cheat will give her. 

She hears the metal door creaking behind her. Peyton glances over her shoulder and sees Ecklund stepping out of the barracks with the strands of her hair already tightly braided. Her round glasses twinkle in the morning light like two stars on her face.

“Hey Ecklund,” Peyton greets.

Ecklund gives her a nod. “Morning.”

“Could you help me with testing this?” Peyton asks, lifting her datapad. “You won’t have to do much.”

Ecklund tilts her head with intrigue. “Sure. What do you have?”

“Heat signature sensor,” Peyton responds. “It can pick up your heat signature through walls, or so I hope.”

“Okay. What do I have to do?”

Peyton lifts her shoulders. “Almost nothing. Just get inside and close the door.”

Ecklund nods, and as she gets inside and closes the door, Peyton gets up, takes twenty, big steps, and lifts her datapad. She points the sensor in the back of her device at the door, and on her screen, the heat signature of Ecklund appears as a bright red silhouette before the monotone, dull background.

Peyton grins with triumph. “It works. It works.”

Peyton keeps watching the screen with amazement, happy that her work paid off with an add-on to her datapad that works wonderfully.

The silhouette shifts and an arm of red slug reaches out to the doorknob. Peyton looks past her datapad and sees the door slightly opening with Ecklund peeking out. “And?”

“It works wonderfully,” Peyton responds with a smile. “Yeah, you can come out.”

Ecklund walks out towards her. “Astral.”

Peyton smiles, but before she can answer, she sees Ashara bursting into view in the corner of her eye. And before she can even glance at her, Ashara’s voice interrupts her. “Peyton, you’re almost missing the briefing,” her voice frantic.

Peyton’s heart sinks in her chest and almost drops her datapad with panic. Malmstrom Command is expecting her for the briefing of today’s training round. She absolutely cannot miss that. “Dank Ferrik.”

She hurries past Ecklund without a glance, bumps into her shoulder, and runs into the barracks. She grasps her helmet and her blaster, ties it to her belt and bolts out the door with her helmet squeezed below her armpit. She can’t be a millisecond too late.

With a pounding heart, Peyton hurries past Ecklund again and runs away to the building of Malmstrom Command, leaving a frantic Ashara and a nonchalant Ecklund behind with questions.

Ashara shuffles closer to Ecklund. “She’s the LC. How could she have forgotten that?” she asks with a frantic voice.

Ecklund crosses her arms calmly and tilts her head a little. “Double job.”

Ashara glances at her. “You think?”

Ecklund nods. Eva might be right after all. Peyton is juggling two jobs at once, causing her to almost miss one of the most important things of a Lieutenant Commander taking over the lead. Had she missed the briefing, she might have gotten a shouting Amitash before her, screaming discipline into her as if she had stolen two candies from a store. It might not be fitting for an LC to be that and something else.

Ashara casts her eyes downward with uncertainty. “I’m not sure. Just-, let's give her more time.”

It might be that too…

Anyways, Ecklund should prepare. Every day at Malmstrom is a new one. Ecklund can’t be surprised by a sudden turn-up of events, especially now that Peyton is commanding the squad. From deep within, Ecklund hopes Roslin will return soon, but she recognises that this is new to Peyton. She has just started. She can’t break someone who tries to learn.

Hopefully, she won’t have to…

At the briefing, Peyton is lined up with six other squad commanders, mostly boys, as she holds her arms tightly behind her back. She listens to Captain Amitash explaining the next training session as a holographic map from bird’s eye shows the battlefield. Arrows and dots flicker all over the battlefield as Amitash explains their position, the possible approaches of the enemy, and their fall back protocol. Her heart pounds with excitement in her chest since she’s never been at such a briefing. Before this, only Roslin appeared here.

However, as the briefing continues, Peyton cannot stop thinking back to yesterday night when Eva left her. Staring at the floor instead of listening, Peyton wonders whether it was a good decision to let her leave. Eva might be better off visiting a doctor or the pharmacy asking for better sleeping pills, or something. Instead, she’s off onto a Lasat hunt. It doesn’t sit right with her now that Eva is gone, all alone with possibly some sort of scary mental illness infecting her brain. 

“Only when the enemy team is completely defeated, victory is assured,” says Amitash, and he glances at all the squad commanders with stern eyes. “Move out.”

“Sir yes sir!” they chant.

As Peyton prepares to head out and inform Ashara and Ecklund about it, a stern voice suddenly stops her. “Lieutenant Peyton.”

Peyton turns back, straightens her back. Doctor Kirbley is leaning slightly over the holotable, his face lit up by the blue glowing surface.

“Sir,” Peyton responds.

“I have noticed your squad is missing commander Roslin and Eva,” says Kirbley. “I am aware of Roslin’s situation, but not of Eva’s. Why is she missing?”

Peyton presses her lips. “Sick, sir,” she says with a shake of her head.

Kirbley pauses and gazes at her with doubt flickering in his eyes. Almost a smile forms on his face as he presses it away. “Dismissed.”

Peyton gives him a curt nod. “Yes sir,” and she turns and leaves.

As Peyton walks out and onto the mud of the battlefield, she hopes Ashara’s sickness report is sufficient. Hopefully, he believes Eva is gone, and if not, Kirbley may not be pleased by two lying soldiers, covering up insubordination. But Peyton’s nerves remain cool as she glances at her helmet. The sky faintly reflects off of its lightly-weathered cladding as she slides it onto her head, her eyes disappearing behind the sharp visor, her fists clenching with determination.

***

With a mug of steaming hot Caf and white vapour swirling upwards, Kirbley overlooks the training as figures move over the hills like ants. Steel walls surround the entirety of the battlefield, including all of the hills and the trenches and most of the forest. They were erected to catch stray blaster bolts. 

A group of figures drop to the ground as blasterfire shrieks over them until they hit the mud further away or the steel walls. From afar, the blaster fire sounds a little like the howls of speeder engines. For some reason, the distant fire sounds calming, and for a moment, Kirbley feels like the tight protocols and procedures of the Imperial Military are distant, as if he’s back at where he started: the clacks and the hums of the labs of mental and psychological research

There is a report on a psychological investigation that Kirbley’s mind often drifts to at times of comfort. The report itself is not very comforting at all, but very intriguing nonetheless. Scientists of the Imperial Department of Military Research sought to investigate the possibility of creating a soldier without any guilt or moral hesitation. Through intensive neurological reconditioning that rewired the human brain, test subjects were found to show an almost complete lack of guilt when executing hostile actions, from disproportionate torture to violence against civilians, even those that were non-threatening. Neurological rewiring made them unstoppable soldiers. 

However, social reintegration became nearly impossible as many developed antisocial behaviour. Their nearly emotionless responses isolated them from the life that existed outside the ranks, at home, at family, at the queue at the supermarket, etc. Life had drifted out of reach. Creating the perfect Imperial, merciless soldier is possible, but comes at a costless price: life.

IDMR’s report concludes that further investigation should be done to overcome the issues with reintegration, with returning to the soldier’s normal, human state. 

As the words of the report drifts back to his mind, Kirbley cannot stop but feel fascinated by how powerful science has become. Rewiring the brain into a machine of war is terrifying, both its actual concept and the fact that it is even possible. It activates his moral alarm within him, blaring as Kirbley knows it is not right to push a soldier so hard it becomes a machine running a code. Soldiers are persons—lives, not computers.

Then, his comlink wails. As a sigh escapes from his mouth, he grasps his comlink from his belt and moves it to his chin. “Doctor Kirbley.”

The voice of an officer crackles. “Sir, we are receiving a transmission from the Imperial Center. High Command wishes to speak with you.”

Kirbley clenches the comlink and glances away, gazing at the pools of rain water in the muddy ground. High Command on the line… That can only go wrong or right, no possibility of in between. It is not how Kirbley wants his morning to unfold.  “Understood,” he says at last.

With reluctance, he makes it back to his office. The holotransmitter on his desk blinks red as he puts down his cold mug and sits down on his chair. His heart races slightly in his chest as he tugs the collar of his uniform, checking if everything is right, before he presses the button. The room darkens and the blue figure of a man in a hoverchair appears on his desk, towering over him. It is General Maximilian Veers, officer in charge of the entire Imperial Army, still hooked to his flying throne.

“General,” starts Kirbley. “To what do I owe this summonce?”

Veers gives him a curt nod. “Doctor. I have been reviewing the initial report on the performance of the Night Force project’s new phase—the Army training. I must say that I am impressed.”

Kirbley straightens in his chair. Impressed? A High Command officer? That is rare. “Impressed, sir?” he blurts out.

A flicker of what might almost be approval crosses Veers’ face. “Expectations were sufficiently met. I am pleased.”

Kirbley’s heart speeds up as he almost stumbles over his own words. “T-, Thank you, General.”

Veers’ expression softens slightly, though still stern and commanding. “Your cadets have demonstrated efficiency and excellent marksmanship. Response time is often swift and maneuvers are executed with a degree of coordination often unseen in cadets so young. The development is in the right direction.”

“That-, that is… encouraging to hear, General,” Kirbley stammers, still struck with surprise. “I am certain that their tactical skills are only improving with each step of the program.”

Veers nods. “I remain doubtless in your expertise, Doctor. But I cannot say that I have no concerns.”

Kirbley’s shoulders tense slightly. There wouldn’t be a meeting with High Command if there weren’t concerns. 

“While their performance is far superior to the average Academy cadet, the gap remains substantial to battle-hardened, frontline troopers,” Veers continues. “We do not only want to create good soldiers. It is about elite soldiers--soldiers capable of breaching enemy defenses and turning the tide of war. From what I see, the Night Force project still has a long way to go.”

Kirbley nods. “I understand, General. The Emperor wants results quickly, but I fear that science thinks differently about development speed. We are pushing our cadets to the limits. They are holding themselves together, but it is only because our steps are careful. We do not tread with haste.”

Veers’ gaze grows sharper. “The caution is appreciated, Doctor, but the Emperor expects results. The war is not won with hesitation or caution. It is won with risks, daring steps into the unknown, bravery. The project promised us a new kind of soldier, but we cannot afford to wait indefinitely just for science to decide its own speed.”

Kirbley turns silent, his eyes drifting away as a hint of frustration gnaws his patience away. “General,” he says, finally. “I have skipped enough steps to simply catch up with a speed impossible for science to hold onto. I am not certain I can speed up the Night Force project even further.”

A sudden, faint sigh escapes Veers as he tilts his head. “Doctor. You have adjusted to our requirements more often than you liked, with positive effects on the project and the standards you met. I am certain that this adjustment will get through.”

Kirbley’s eyes cast downward, questioning the possibility of skipping steps once more. It has been done before and too much to his liking, but it is no lie that great risks come along. He lets out a faint sigh. “We’ll see, General.”

Veers remains silent, his stern eyes staring into his soul until he gives him one last, curt nod. “Make work of it, Doctor.”

The holotransmitter flickers and Veers’ image vanishes. The room is left in total darkness as the window covers slowly slide up. The sunlight rushes back as Kirbley exhales sharply. The tension spills out as his mind races with what is expected from him. Leaning back, he knows he can push his cadets harder, but it is not without risks. In the greater scheme of war, soldiers are tools, but if sharpened too quickly, they can easily break. And if they would break under his guidance, he would not be far behind them.

IDMR would have no problems taking the project over if he goes too far, but so would it be if he is too cautious…

***

As a restless night passes, Eva and Daxan set out early to travel to Gaalperlake, a town beyond the city borders of the Capital. It is a town she has never visited, so she is intrigued to see what its library offers. She knows from Capital Library that it contains millions of bookworks, ranging from history books to literature, children’s books and government papers. Millions and millions of files, all at one central palace. Gaalperlake’s library will be much smaller in scale and presence, and hopefully, that can provide her with a gap through the Empire’s regulation. 

From the highway to the rural roads through the fields, Eva clings tightly onto Daxan’s bike, shrieking past Gaalperlake’s first homes. They seem old as their concrete outer shells seem weathered. Daxan slows down as they drive into the town center and find the library on the other side of the plaza. It is a barren structure of concrete, covered by the green, rustling leaves of ancient trees. There are few people outside, strolling outside with bags from the local stores as Daxan drives into a parking lot.

Eva hops off. “So… Gaalperlake,” she sighs, glancing around. “Always dreamed of visiting it.”

Daxan chuckles as he switches off the engine. “Not,” he smirks. “First impressions?”

Eva shrugs. “I don’t know. The stereotypical rural town… too quiet, too empty.”

Daxan smirks. “I know that feeling.”

“Alright, let’s get inside,” says Eva. She walks towards the library’s main entrance. “Let’s hope they have it.”

Eva taps on the door button and as it slides into the wall, they step inside. With Daxan following her, she stumbles into a stale atmosphere as before her, rows, rows and rows of glowing datapads cascade to the other side of the building. The amount of rows this local library has leaves her in awe. She knew the Capital Library had a lot, but she did not expect such a rural library to have almost as many.

“Dank Ferrik,” Eva curses. “How are we going to sift through all of that?”

A sudden, mechanical growl erupts into the air. “Hush!” 

Eva glances at the reception where a rusty, old droid stands. It has its finger before its metallic mouth, a rectangular gap in its steel face. “Quiet please, madam. This is a library,” it says with a garbled voice.

Eva lifts her hand up. “Sorry,” she says, softly, and she glances back at Daxan. “Kriffin’ droid. There’s no one even here.”

“Well, what kind of fool would wake up the crickets?” Daxan asks.

Eva smirks. “Shut up. Let’s focus on the work. This mission is most important to me, but I’m not going to read all of this just to find information on Jedi shenanigans.”

“Same,” Daxan responds. “You could ask the droid.”

“Are you sure it’s gonna help?” Eva asks, glancing at the droid in the corner of her eye. “It’s a rust bucket.”

“I think it may help,” Daxan shrugs. 

“Okay, well, go ahead.”

“No, no,” Daxan stammers. To Eva’s surprise, his voice turns shivering. “You-, you ask.”

Eva shakes her head with confusion. What? What do you mean?

It almost sounds like Daxan is afraid to ask. But Eva quickly recognises that now is not the right time to ask or discuss. There is work to do. A lot of work. 

Without asking further, Eva approaches the rust bucket behind the desk. “Droid.”

The droid looks up from its computer screen. It floods one-half of its metal body in a soft, white hue. “Madam,” the droid greets with a clunky nod. “How may I be of service to you?”

Eva leans with her hands against the metal desk on which she can see the dust sprinkled around. “How many works have you stored here?”

The droid hums. “Well, let me think,” and its processing unit starts whirring inside its head. “I count one million, five hundred and eighty-six thousand, nine hundred and forty-eight files.”

Yup. No way that I’m gonna sift through all that.

“And how about history works?” Eva asks.

“Well, we have about six thousand, eight hundred and sixteen works on history,” the droid responds, its CPU whirring loudly, “from the declaration of the First Galactic Empire to the most recent development in Imperial weaponry.”

Over six thousand works on history. That’s better than over one million. Still too much. Hopefully, it’s not all about just her Empire. “Okay. And… how about records related to the Jedi?”

Then, all motion stops. With flickering eyes, the droid becomes silent with a dead gaze locked on her.

“Could you help me with that?” Eva stammers. “Droid?” but it gives no sign of any acknowledgement.

Eva glances over her shoulder at Daxan, sensing it won’t answer.

Daxan shrugs with confusion. “Ask again?”

I’m not sure.

Eva presses her lips and looks back at the dead droid. She leans over the desk and gives it a tick on its metal head. “Hey, rust buck’.”

Then, the droid clasps her wrist in an instant in dead silence. Eva startles, shuddering with terror as she gazes at its dead eyes. 

The droid tilts its head. “No works on the CLASSIFIED exist.” Its voice turns dark. “Gaalperlake Library apologises.”

“Does not exist?” Eva gasps and clasps the droid’s hand and tries to pry its cold fingers open, her heart starting to race in her chest. “Let me go you rust buck’!”

Daxan hurries in and forces Eva’s arm out of the droid’s locked hand. The droid releases her wrist and continues to stare at her. “No works on the CLASSIFIED exist. Gaalperlake Library apologises.”

Eva gasps as Daxan pushes her away with urgency. “What’s wrong with you!” she cries. 

“No works on the CLASSIFIED exist-,”

“Drop dead!” 

“Okay okay, easy,” Daxan urges and turns Eva away from the droid, pulling her to the back of a tall bookcase.

Staring at the floor, Eva twists her wrist with shock. It did not hurt, but it shocked the shit out of her.

“Hey, you’re okay?” Daxan asks.

Eva glances at him. “That droid is kriffin’ nuts!” she whispers loudly. “What’s wrong with it?”

“Its CPU has probably burned through, don’t worry, it’s an old clanker,” Daxan urges, trying to comfort her. 

Eva stares at him with fear still running through her nerves and casts her eyes downward as she slowly feels it vanishing. 

“So, as you would say, let’s get searching,” says Daxan. “There might be references in other works instead of works specifically on the Jedi.”

Eva nods, pondering heavily. “With that rust buck in the back? Scary.”

“It won’t do much,” Daxan responds. “It’s just an old admin droid. It can’t do much else besides computing.”

Eva inhales deeply. “Alright. So… History of the Galaxy maybe? We might find something there..”

“Let’s start with that, then,” Daxan responds.

They get to work. As they locate the datafiles containing History of the Galaxy in the History section, they sit down at one of the long, long tables, so long that it could house a big feast for thirty, filthy rich men. Aside from filthy rich men briefly in her mind, there is also filth in the form of dust everywhere. This library is truly not visited often. The last person to have visited this place must’ve been a Jedi themselves.

But as they sift through the many editions of the history work, flipping pages and reading passages for hours and hours, Eva finds nothing related to the Jedi. It seems like some passages or pages are missing; the page after seems to abruptly end the page before without any chapter or paragraph mark. It is as if things have been removed, and Eva fears that even here, the claws of her own, beloved Empire is stabbing her in the back. With every chance of a mention of the Jedi slipping past her, Eva feels the sand in the hourglass slowly draining, growing impatient. At last, she cannot take it any longer and stops. 

There is nothing mentioning them. Even at such a remote library, the Empire’s reach cuts so deeply that nothing slips through their regulation. She is fighting against herself, a fight she knows she cannot win. 

Eva clasps her forehead with frustration. “I-, I give up,” she sighs. “Nothing. There’s just nothing.”

Daxan, sifting through the work on the other side of the table, glances at her. “No mention of them here too.”

“Dank Ferrik,” Eva sighs. “They’re good. Even at such a remote library, they still got the regulation right. Yeah, they’re good. Kriff this, I’m gone.” She stands up and swings her backpack onto her back. “There must be another way.”

Daxan stands up and catches up. “Probably.”

Eva glances briefly at the droid as they walk back to the main entrance. Its metal fingers clack on the keyboard. “Hey, rust buck’.”

The droid looks up from its computer screen flooding its metal head with a white hue.

“Some rat took a dump there. Go clean it.” It can’t be that dumb to fall for that…

Eva walks out with heavy footsteps and inhales deeply. The fresh scent of leaves prickles in her nose, calming down the turmoil that is brewing within her. “Finding information in the library won’t do a thing.”

Daxan catches up with her. “How’s the old man?”

“Mr Dane? Can’t help us,” Eva responds. Her stomach starts to growl with hunger. “Dank Ferrik. That reading made me hungry. You said you had to refuel, right?”

Daxan hops onto his bike. “Yeah. I have a quarter of a tank. There’s a fuel station not far from here.”

As he switches the engine on, Eva hops on and they drive out of Gaalperlake. Eva glances one last time back at the library building. Weird ass droid. Hope to never see you again.

***

The store at the fuel station is quiet and empty with only a droid at the check-out. While Daxan refuels his speeder bike outside, Eva walks along the aisles to kill the time and find some quick food to eat. 

Eva finds a dusty box of breakfast crackers. Hyper processed food, it says on the label. And highly nutritious. Hopefully, filling as well.

Eva takes it from the shelf and holds it against her chest. Now, something for Daxan. He desires something with meat, oddly enough. 

Not wanting to judge his diet, Eva searches further. From another aisle, the cashier droid walks into her way. Eva shudders for a moment, seeing its blue, glowing eyes locking onto her.

“Madam, how may I be of service to you?” it mutters, holding its metal arms crossed behind its back. 

With her heart briefly pounding in her heart, Eva gasps and calms herself down quickly. That droid in the library truly scared her. She starts to understand why some like Ecklund seem to have a phobia for droids. Old, haywired droids truly are a different kind.

Eva swallows. “I’m looking for something to eat with meat in it.”

The droid nods with a metallic clunk. “I know precisely what you are looking for. What pet do you own?”

“Pet?” Eva slips. “It’s just for a friend—a human.”

“That narrows down my search scope sufficiently,” the droid responds. “Please stand by.”

The droid turns around and walks slowly to the back of the store and disappears behind the door of the storage room.

“What pet do you own,” Eva whispers. She breaks into laughter for a brief moment.

Stupid droid.

As Eva waits for the droid, her eyes land on a box of chocolate crackers with the face of Lola’s Academy. The freckles on her face and her fiery red hair instantly jump out.

Dang, did they do a collab’ with some food company? That’s astral. I’ll take that if you don’t mind.

As Eva takes it and holds it against her chest, she suddenly sees a man stopping at the end of her aisle. She does not want to bother him with uncomfortable eye contact, but his cold eyes burn on her skin as the unease grows until she can no longer bear it. 

Eva glances at the man and makes eye contact. His scanning eyes send a shiver down her spine as his pupils hide something. Eva freezes with uncertainty, unsure of his intention or what to do. Eva holds in her breath and her mind draws a blank as the man keeps studying her with his creepy eyes. 

Slowly, Eva’s eyes drift down to his waist. There, she notices something. It’s a slight bump around his waist, something like a holster.

Eva glances back at his face. The man slowly reaches out for whatever is hanging from his waist. And then, Eva slowly realises what he is reaching out for. 

In a heartbeat, Eva drops her stuff, runs back and jumps behind the shelf. A blastershot shrieks past her, barely missing her face. Eva gasps for air as her heart races with anxiety.

“Blast it,” Eva curses. 

Rebels. 

Eva pounds her back into the shelf and draws her blaster. How the hell did they find her? Did those scum follow her? Well, if they respond with violence, so will she.

With a pounding heart, Eva shoots back but misses the Rebel. Quickly, she notices five other Rebels storming out of the door of the storage room with drawn blasters and narrow eyes.

Eva moves back into cover and curses under her breath.

The Rebels start boxing her in. Eva manages to take one down but gets stuck behind a shelf as they close her in. The atmosphere burns as Eva feels her heart pounding as if it is in her throat. 

A Rebel moves just past the entrance door on her right while another one skids the wall on her left. The remaining two hold their position in the far back. Eva can sense their presence through the shelves and notices they are coming in. Her heart fills with anxiety, recognising she does not have many chances of winning left. Two boxing her in and two staying put is a difficult, nearly impossible approach she can tackle. Her lungs speed up with fear. She looks slightly above the shelves, looking outside the shop. Daxan, where the hell are you?

Then, Eva sees the door sliding open and footsteps pounding until an unsheathed knife slices through flesh. A scream of agony erupts. The other Rebel stops and moves back, shocked by the sudden scream. They’re confused. Now is her moment to strike.

Eva moves to the wall swiftly, sees the other Rebel, shoots him twice in the back, and moves an aisle up. There, at the other end, she sees Daxan, dropping the body of the Rebel on the floor. His hand is dripping in blood as he pulls his knife out of the Rebel’s throat. Eva gasps with relief.

He gestures to her to hurry. In his eyes, Eva can see panic flickering in the corners. “Eva, come on. We have to get out of here!”

Eva hurries to his side. They sprint out of the shop with the blasterfire of the remaining Rebels shrieking past them. Eva fires back, hits one, and jumps onto the back of his bike. Daxan turns on the engine and shrieks away. The engine roars with a ferocious growl. With a pounding heart, Eva holds onto the bike tightly with burning nerves.

They emerge onto a busy highway with speeders left and right, whipping past in a blur.

“The hell happened there?” Daxan cries.

“Rebels,” Eva cries back. “Damn Rebels, they found us.”

“They must have followed us all the way from the library or the motel,” Daxan responds. 

“How? How did they know that we were there?”

“Don’t know, but they’re still following us.”

Eva’s heart sinks in her chest as she glances over her shoulder. In the far distance, bikes passing speedercabs race over the highway towards them, overtaking every vehicle they come across.

Eva curses under her breath. They refuse to give up.

“They really, really want the Artefact. What can you do?” Eva asks, frantic. “Can you lose ‘em?”

“I’ll try,” and Daxan slams the throttle.

Eva almost loses her balance as she clings onto the bike. They race past speeders as the Rebels close in. One of them catches up. Eva looks the driver in the eyes and sees the fire burning in his dark pupils as he is ready to slam them off their speeder. But in a flash, the Rebel crashes into the back of a lorry, sending its debris over the tarmac and into a light pole, bringing it down.

Eva glances back as the other Rebels dodge the traffic. Two remain.

“One down!” Eva cries.

Daxan nods. “Hold on.”

In the mirrors, Eva sees the Rebel bikers racing closer. One tails them directly, racing just dozens of meters behind them. Before her, they race towards the back of a speedercab.

“Watch out,” says Daxan, and as Eva squeezes the bike’s frame until it hurts, he slams on the brakes and lifts the nose up. Eva’s stomach turns as they lift from the ground, over the speeder cab. 

The Rebel has no time to react and slams into the trunk of the speeder cab, disintegrating within a second.

Daxan then slams the pedal and lands on the tarmac in front of the cab with a bang. The bike swerves and Eva almost loses grip, but Daxan manages to maintain control. With her heart pounding, Eva looks over her shoulder and notices the debris of the Rebel speeder bike scattering across the highway.

One more down. Only one remains now. 

As they swerve around traffic, Eva notices the last Rebel is catching up, barely in the corner of her eye. Eva reaches for her blaster and aims with one hand at the Rebel. She fires but misses as Daxan veers around speedercabs, dodging them barely. Their speed and trajectory is so erratic and high that Eva risks losing her balance. 

Then, the Rebel takes distance, moving a lane away, and as Eva makes eye contact, she spots the adrenaline in his frantic eyes as his hands on the wheel cramp up. With igniting nerves, Eva realises he is going to pull something off.

Before she can ask herself what, the Rebel yanks his wheel to the left and swerves towards her. Eva shrieks as the Rebel smashes into the back of their bike, nearly hitting her. Eva loses her grip and falls over, until her hand manages to take hold of the bike’s frame again. She hangs barely above the tarmac as it flashes past her head. She’s able to pull herself straight up as thoughts race through her mind. Holy shit. Had I not regained grip, I might’ve been dead…

Without warning, the Rebel swerves into them again. Eva holds tightly onto the bike as she’s almost yanked off. Daxan is forced onto the exit lane and races off the highway. He veers onto a road piercing through rural fields as the tarmac stretches towards the horizon. In her other hand, she is still holding tightly onto her blaster as she realises that now is the chance to end the Rebel’s chase for once and for all.

Eva draws her blaster, aims at the lone driver with a shaking hand and fires. The Rebel tries to dodge the shrieking blasterbolts, but the third shot hits his engine. His bike spins out of control as the driver fights for control, but he hits the pole of a road sign and is thrown off into the ground. His speeder crashes into the soil with a bang and erupts in flames.

“Stop,” Eva cries.

Daxan slams on the brakes and comes to a halt.

Eva glances back at the crash site. The wreckage smokes in the tall grass as flames spit out like geysers. The smack that Rebel made felt awful. Her bones shiver as she recalls it. That road sign must have killed him. As the breeze blows through the strands of her hair, Eva closes her eyes and gasps with relief, happy that the chase is over. The fear was real. The speed they had could have killed them both, but they survived, thanks to Daxan’s driving skills. Eva opens her eyes and follows the curls of the smoke, rising into the air. 

Her eyes then catch something. She sees movement on the ground. Slow movement. Did he survive? 

With her heart still pounding in her chest, Eva taps on his shoulder. “Reverse.”

Daxan changes gear and reverses to the crash site. With disbelief, Eva sees the misformed debris coming closer. It has been completely obliterated, but there, through the debris, Eva sees the Rebel crawling away, reaching for his leg as his eyes land on her.

Eva jumps off and draws her blaster. She steps towards him with the rage starting to boil her blood. His eyes narrow with hostility as he reaches for the blasterpistol hanging from his belt. He grabs it but before he can fire, Eva pounds her foot on his arm, aims, and blasts off his hand.

The Rebel screams with agony, his voice echoing over the hills. Eva lifts her foot and aims her blaster at his head. “Rebel scum,” she hisses. “Drop dead.”

“Wait wait wait.” Daxan hurries in and pulls back her arm.

Eva steps back and glances at him with the anger burning in her eyes, her cheeks burning red. The hell you’re stopping me for?

“Let him live,” Daxan urges, his voice soft in her ears. “We might need him.”

The urgency to stop her shimmer in the pupils of his eyes as Eva looks back at the Rebel biker. He wraps his hand around his blackened hand with clenched teeth as the pain is engraved in his red eyes. 

Behind his swollen eyes, he hides something. He holds information that they might be able to use. He therefore cannot be killed if she wants to succeed in the mission. The library was a lost cause, but here, lying on the ground with half of his hand gone, lies a new opportunity of information. A new, open window.

Eva takes deep gasps and calms down her raging fury. “Okay,” she whispers.

She looks back at the Rebel with narrowing eyes. “Let’s see what he can tell us.”

Slowly, the Rebel’s eyes turn fearful as his pupils grow, realising a quick death won’t be a given…

Chapter Text

Chained up to the steel towel rail in the bathroom, the Rebel spits out blood on the cold, ceramic tiles, breathing—just barely through the pain. Eva and Daxan tied him to the bike and made him a part of the frame as they raced from the desolate fields to the privacy and safety of the motel. The slightly damp environment is heavy and stale.

The air is like a weight on her lungs as Eva bows over him with narrowing eyes, looking at the vermin at the floor. His charred hand—the one Eva blasted off, is twisted in every painful turn. Since the Library at Gaalperlake gave no answers, Eva’s only chance of gaining information lies with this driver, and she is desperately in need of whatever his mind holds. How resilient he may be, Eva is willing to break him no matter what. Her hands itch, growing sweaty.

“One last chance,” Eva snarls. 

The Rebel scoffs with blood spitting out of his mouth. “Go to hell, kid.”

Eva cocks her blaster and pounds with the butt into his face. His cheekbones crack with danger, his face jerking to the side as he lets out a shivering groan.

“One. Last. Chance,” Eva cries. “Tell me about your Rebel group and the damn Twi’lek.”

In the back of the bathroom stands Daxan, his arms crossed over each other as he watches Eva closely. He holds his thoughts for himself to remain silent, knowing he is on Eva’s domain.

The Rebel stares at her with the eyes of a resistant animal, unwilling to cooperate. “I’ll die before I betray the cause.”

Eva scoffs in his face and gets up with clenched fists. She tilts her head with desire growing. Her grip tightens around the blaster in her hands as her knuckles become pale. “I beg to differ, sir. Everyone’s made to be broken. We shall see how much you can endure.”

The Rebel scoffs, spitting on the floor, but he remains quiet. Her blood boils until her thoughts blur into one overwhelming, uniform desire: to break the man before her.

With a shout, Eva slams the butt of her blaster into his chest. The Rebel groans, his body jolting with a reverberating shock, but still refusing to give her the scream of agony she desires to hear, echoing in her ears. Her hits grow faster, more frantic. Each impact in his ribs sends ripples up her arms. She can barely take it, but it isn’t enough. Eva wants to hear him break. She barrages the Rebel with each pound more powerful than the last. His body shudders with each crash into his ribs as she longs for an agonising scream more and more. Her fury burns in flames as the blaster slips from her fingers, clattering on the floor. Eva barely notices the drop as her fists take over and pound into his chest with raw, unrelenting force. A sickening crack erupts from his chest cavity, louder than the sound of her fist. A heartbeat later, the Rebel cries out a scream of agony.

For a fleeting second, satisfaction rushes through her veins. Eva forces a smile away but almost breaks into a chuckle at his show of weakness.

“How’s that feeling?” she asks, almost smirking at her own, mocking voice. Her sinister half-smile vanishes from her face. “Almost 200 bones. Ready to talk now?”

The Rebel blows away a strand of hair from his face, the sweat beading on his forehead. “You really think you’re the first Imperial to try this on me?” He breaks into a chuckle. “You’re too naive.”

Eva takes a deep breath as she tries to keep her fury tamed. Steady. Keep it steady, Eva.

“Nah. I’ve been through worse,” the Rebel snarls, gasping. 

Eva crosses her arms. “We’ve got a bathtub here. I can drown your cries out in steaming hot water until your skin melts away.” She clenches her jaws. “You have almost 200 bones. I can break each. Tell me!”

The Rebel shakes his head, but before he can even respond with a taunt, Eva grabs her blaster and smacks it into his charred hand, drawing a sharp scream from him. 

“Talk!” Eva cries.

His gasps echo through the small room as the tears streak down his face. “Alright, alright!” he gasps, his voice wheezing. “I’ll talk. But promise me not to kill me.”

Eva smirks. At last, she has broken him and gives him a nod. “Promised.”

Anything to get an answer out of him, even if her superiors would want her to kill him.

Eva stands back, opening the atmosphere for space as the Rebel swallows hard. The ventilation inlet of the bathroom hums faintly through the man’s ragged breaths, filled with pain. “The Twi’lek… we found her in the woods. She joined us afterwards.”

“She joined your group?” Eva tilts her head. “What’s its name?”

“The Starbird Group,” he stammers.

Eva crosses her arms. “The Starbird Group,” she recites, memorising the name. “Does it have a base of operations here?”

The Rebel shrugs shiveringly as a streak of blood runs down his chin. Droplets splash on the white floor tiles. “We have a safe house in the east of the city. But we won’t stay there long. Our commander is planning a hit on an Imperial transfer in four days. It’s supposed to be our last score before we move to a new location.”

Eva listens carefully, memorising everything, but she is not satisfied yet. “Where is it?” she growls.

“I-, I don’t kriffin’ know!” he cries. “I’m just the driver. They don’t tell me everything.”

Behind his words, Eva senses fear. He is trying to press it away, but it is enough for Eva. He is not telling everything. He may not be lying, but he is also not telling it all.

Eva steps towards him and bows over him with narrowed eyes. “You know more than you’re letting on.”

The Rebel shakes his head with a shuddering breath. “No. No, I don’t. That's all I know.”

“Liar!” Eva pounds her blaster into his throat, strangling him as his unchained legs flounder like fish on the dry floor. His breath stalls, gasping for air but all he can let out are the squeezes of a hurt animal, fighting for survival.

“Wait, wait.” At last, the Rebel squeezes out some, almost inaudible words. 

Eva loosens her force on his throat, letting him speak. 

“Between the Capital and Zythelle, there’s a hide-out,” he stammers. “It’s where we stash supplies. It’s off-road, but there’s a landmark—the old hovertrain bridge over the river. We’ve been using it for months. That’s all I know, I swear!”

Eva holds her blaster tightly against his throat, considering pushing further, but she recognises she’s gone far enough. She scans his eyes and finds no hint of deceit shimmering in the corners of his dark pupils. Slowly, Eva drops the force from his throat and lowers her blaster. “You better pray that you’re telling the truth.”

The Rebel gasps with relief. His body slumps as the immediate danger seems to pass him.

Slowly, Eva backs away to Daxan, still standing back with his arms crossed. 

“Well, that worked,” Daxan remarks, raising an eyebrow.

“Of course it did,” Eva whispers, her voice still strained by the adrenaline, and glances at the Rebel shortly. “Just go far enough.” She takes one big gasp and looks back at Daxan. “Anyway, there’s a hide-out somewhere, we should investigate it.”

Daxan nods. His eyes seem to catch something on her face and suddenly, he reaches out to her and strokes her cheek.

Eva instantly pushes back his hand. Her eyes instantly sharpen like blades.

 “You got blood on your face,” says Daxan, retracting his hand.

That’s why he was stroking her.

Eva touches her cheek with her finger and notices a red spot of blood on her tip. She swipes the rest of the blood away from her cheeks and forms red, vague brushes on her palms.

“It’s not mine,” Eva assures. “But we have a lead. Let’s check it out.”

Daxan nods. “And what about him?” he asks, pointing at the prisoner.

Eva glances back at the Rebel. The sweat is drenching his jacket as he has his eyes fixed on the floor. The blood spilling out of his wounds create red stains in the ceramic floor.

Eva inhales sharply through her nose. “I respect promises,” she responds, glancing shortly at Daxan, and brushes past his shoulder, storming out of the bathroom.

Eva pounds the door of her room open and steps outside, onto the parking lot of the motel. Adrenaline rushes through her veins, leaving her gasping for cold air. Her nerves are burning with turmoil as she wipes the last streaks of blood from her cheeks. Through the sharp, whistling wind, her mind races with the Rebel’s words echoing in her ears. This new hide-out, their next hit on a transfer, the Starbird Group—it is all she can think about.

The door behind her squeaks shut as Daxan stands behind her, silently. 

“So, we got the information we need,” he says, finally, calm and careful. “But… are you okay? You’re shaking.”

“I’m fine,” Eva whispers. She stares away at the towering buildings around her, reaching for the starfield beyond the clouds. Unease electrifies her nerves, feeling like she can barely hold in everything.

Daxan steps closer. “Are you?” he presses, softer now. “Are you fine? You don’t always have to be.”

Eva buries her face in her hands, not sure she wants to acknowledge his pushing presence. Shut up. Are you kriffin’ doubting me?

In a fleeting second, she wants to brush him off and ditch him together with the Rebel, and dive into the mission as always, head first. He might make great friends with that broken man there. But suddenly, almost all the words slip out of her mind.

“I can’t sleep,” Eva whispers, slipping. Her fists clench, her nails digging into her palms.

Daxan remains silent. “You can’t sleep?”

“I can’t,” Eva whispers, her eyes watering. “I. Can’t. Sleep. I can’t stop them.”

“What can you not stop?” 

Then, she blows up. “The nightmares!” Eva cries, gasping, turning to Daxan. “Flashes. Fire. I keep getting them. It’s keeping me awake all night.”

Then, a cold gust of wind punches her out of the fire. Eva straightens up, wipes away the tears forming in her eyes, and steadies her lungs with cold gasps of air. She slowly shakes her head. “There’s a hide-out somewhere towards Zythelle,” her voice calm and steady, hiding the straining tension. “We have to check it out.”

Daxan steps towards her and puts his cold hand against her cheek, a block of ice on her burning nerves. “Eva, slow down for a moment. You’re shaking. You’re running and falling quicker than you can catch yourself. You’re on knife’s edge.”

Eva hesitates as she stares at him with uncertainty. His words sink in, but before they land, Eva’s eyes turn fierce and pushes Daxan’s hand away from her cheek. “Let’s get going. Time is not on Imperial side.”

Eva swallows and wipes away the last tears, releasing Daxan’s hand viciously.

Daxan nods almost reluctantly with hesitation. He presses his lips and remains silent for a second or two, seemingly pondering, until he nods again and gestures to the speeder bike.

Eva hops onto the back. She runs her fingers through her hair, but her hands tremble and the blond strands slip through. She curses, fumbling with the strands as she twists them around quickly into a weak bun. Some strands fall out, sweeping into her face as she draws them away with her hands. Eva meets the eyes of Daxan, his lingering gaze filled with concern and doubt. What is he thinking?

Growing impatient, Eva taps with her hand on the driver’s seat in front of her. “Come on, let’s go!”

Daxan breaks his stare, hops on, and speeds off the parking lot and onto the busy roads of the Capital. Eva glances at the lit windows of nightshops flashing past her. The people walking at the sidewalk turn into vague hazes as Eva tries to lose her thoughts lingering to Daxan. The doubt in his staring eyes, the concern in his soft but strained voice… Eva cannot understand why he has turned doubtful and uncertain about her capabilities so suddenly.

What fuels his doubt? What does he see in her that she can’t see? Eva can only reach out to the dark, unknown of what Daxan is exactly thinking about her. Whatever it is, it remains as a sour afterthought in her mind…

***

The bright screen of his computer burns in his face as Kirbley sits at his desk, looking at the numbers displayed. The Army training has been going on for little over a week and results are slowly growing better as they pour in. Cadets make more calculated movements, more shots hit than miss, and maneuvers go quicker with each day. They are nowhere near the speed and coordination of Army troopers making these movements every day and night, but his cadets are in the right direction.

Kirbley leans back. His desolate, bleak office is filled with silence. Only the ventilation inlet and the fluorescent lights overhead hum a little. Through the silence, however, his inner satisfaction is deafening. A small smile forms on his face. The numbers aren’t lying. His cadets are truly becoming more skilled each day. When they entered the Academy program in their first days, these children could not even hit a single, fixed target. None could march. None could hit. They made baby steps. But now, within a year, these children were well on their way of becoming the Empire’s best soldiers. The progression makes him almost chuckle. The Night Force project is showing its results. It’s promising. 

However, his relief is slightly suppressed by the threats General Veers made. Though the project is showing results, it lacks speed. The war is going at a quicker pace than the project. Imperial High Command wants the soldiers quicker and sooner than what the project is designed for. If he doesn’t take the extra step, IDMR might take it instead. A hint of nervousness electrifies his nerves. Night Force is indeed lacking the quick development speed High Command expects, but he knows that it is not easy to achieve that. Science is rather stubborn. It decides its own speed. Once men decide, science will take the blade to hit back. Caution is required.

Kirbley’s eyes grow weary and he lets out a yawn. It is late, but he decides to keep working for an hour. If there’s a way to cautiously speed up Night Force and push his cadets into the next phases earlier, he might find it now. 

At the Caf machine in the building’s canteen, he leans heavily against the counter, waiting for his cup to fill with fuming-hot fuel. As the machine simmers like a broken repulsorlift engine, Kirbley’s thoughts drift away to IDMR’s research report he read earlier. Its conclusion echoes through his mind crystal clear: through intensive conditioning, soldiers can become immune to emotions. Pressure, fear, anxiety, sorrow, hesitation; none will exist. It might be a solution for the project; cadets might take all the pressure if he speeds up the project.

However, it is a plan that is morally questionable. Teenagers need emotions to weigh risks and rewards, build social connections, find out who they really, really , are; not just Imperial soldiers. Should soldiers be stripped from their human aspects? Should children lose their emotions? He isn’t certain. Not to forget, it is crisis. It often requires the extra step, a risky sacrifice to lose one but save all. 

Kirbley isn’t sure whether he can take that extra step himself. But if he won’t do it, IDMR almost certainly will…

An officer appears in the corner of his eye, his footsteps echoing faintly through the desolate room. “Sir.”

Kirbley turns around.

“We’ve received a message from the Imperial Center,” and the officer hands him a datacard. “It is for you, sir.”

A message from the Imperial Center? That can only go two ways; good or bad. No in between. 

As his hands grow slightly sweaty, Kirbley plugs the datacard into his device. A message pops up on his screen. Data retrieved, and he opens the file. His eyes draw to the first words as he starts reading.

Office of General Maximilian Veers
ISB Clearance Level: CLASSIFIED

Subject: Scheduled Evaluation of Night Force Project 

Doctor Kirbley Forest. 

In accordance with High Command’s wishes, the Office of General Maximilian Veers has scheduled an evaluation by the second rotation of receival to assess the progression and effectiveness of the training regimen for its cadets. He wishes to witness the cadets in action himself. This review is critical to determining the project’s alignment with military benchmarks and its readiness for active deployment.

It is expected from the Night Force project to reach the benchmarks High Command has set. Failure to comply will result in the termination of your contract with the Imperial military. Hence, General Veers shall be accompanied by Colonel Lubhaumer of the Imperial Department of Military Research. 

Should the project be deemed insufficient in its progress, you shall be immediately replaced by Colonel Lubhaumer without hesitation.

Yours sincerely, the Office of General Maximilian Veers.

His heart sinks in his chest. He almost drops his datapad on the floor. General Veers is coming? Dank Ferrik.

And what is even worse is that General Veers will not be alone; some colonel of IDMR is coming along with him. His department is jumping to take over the Night Force project if results are insufficient. This colonel will be coming to test out the couch in the officer’s lounge, feel the smooth counters, and spin around in his office chair, just to get himself familiar with his future project. The candidate to replace him will be coming along, and it feels like a dagger striking deep into his spine. Kirbley’s pupils grow with anxiety, his nerves starting to burn, but from deep within, a hint of anger combusts in his chest.

If IDMR ever steals this project from him, no cadet will be safe from its rigorous, dangerous research methods. They are ruthless in reaching their goals, and he has no doubt that every cadet under their command will suffer a lot. Kirbley’s mind jumps to the research report of conditioning a soldier’s mind until the complete erasure of emotions. That research was conducted by IDMR themself and tested on real soldiers. People, serving for the Imperial Army, were the testing bunnies they saw as their research property. They were stripped from what made them sentient beings, all for the sake of military development. 

IDMR is not just some military research department. They stare the devil right in the eyes fearlessly. Colonel Lubhaumer, the candidate to replace him, is the servant of said devil-starers.

“You’ve got to be kidding me,” and he storms away, leaving his cup of Caf on the counter. 

Now that Veers and some shitass is coming, Kirbley will have to show them the best of Night Force. He has to convince them that the project is performing excellently under his command. He doesn’t need IDMR. And who’s that colonel anyway?

Kirbley glances over his shoulder as he walks back to his office. The officer is still following him, awaiting further orders. “Who the hell is this shitass, Colonel Lubhaumer? What’s his resume?”

The officer glances at his datapad. “Colonel Lubhaumer… so far, he’s played critical roles in the creation of early Stormtrooper training, evaluation metrics, and Project Seraph Null.”

Kirbley almost stops in his tracks. It rings no bell at all, but the name of it alone sends a chill down his spine.“Seraph Null?”

“Yes sir,” the officer responds. “Most documents are classified, unfortunately, but all that is known is that it seems to have researched emotional suppression. It was tested on recruits to create unflinching soldiers, but it seems to have been canceled because it… went too far.”

Kirbley scoffs. “Went too far? What do you mean?”

For IDMR, nothing goes too far. They would bomb twelve men with a proton warhead just to prove they’d burn as well as sheep would.

The officer shrugs as his eyes are glued to his screen. “The test subjects were found dangerously unstable and aggressive after mental conditioning. It… it was bad, sir. They acted without regard for orders, engaged in massacres without reason, and… there were instances of deliberate friendly-fire, like they snapped completely.”

Kirbley’s heart stops. That project derailed, and not just by a little. It shot off the rails hard. If soldiers were brainwashed to such a point that they turned onto their own men in total madness, what will Night Force become? It becomes clear to him what kind of a man Lubhaumer seems to be; a colonel willing to do anything for science, but most importantly of all, for the Imperial military. These test subjects were sacrificed and had their brains twisted into pure mush until they could not make any distinction between friend and foe. 

Kirbley stops in his tracks. With a faltering heart, his eyes drift down to the floor with concern consuming everything within him like a wildfire. If Lubhaumer is a candidate for replacing him, the boys and girls Kirbley has serving for the project won’t survive even a day under his command. All these children will turn into zombies with schizophrenia within weeks, because why would IDMR care? All they care about is the finishline--the gate to victory, while the path to reach it, is built upon thousands of human carcasses burning in puddles of red mud. Whether their test subjects suffer or not deserves no thought. 

With a deep sigh, he glances over his shoulder at the officer waiting with his arms behind his back. “A mad scientist, huh?”

The officer presses his lips and nods, slowly. “I suppose so.”

Kirbley nods with fear running through his nerves, his pulse pounding. The shadow of IDMR looms large, threatening to crush everything he’s worked for. And now that High Command has appointed a man holding no regard for ethics to possibly replace him, means that perhaps, they have no confidence that Kirbley is able to reach their benchmarks. 

Then, his fists clench. A spark of defiance ignites in his chest. If he wants to stand up for his cadets that are trying so hard to become the best of the Empire, he will have to show High Command what he can. Show them that he can lead a military project. This shitass of a colonel can suck it.

***

Through the thick, concrete walls, inaudible murmurs ripple through  her serene meditation. Kishtung has her eyes shut and her hands on her knees, breathing in and out, thoughtful. The lone fluorescent light overhead buzzes through the disjointed melody of the Force. She tries to connect to it, trying to understand its unbalanced song.

Then, the door behind her hisses, sliding into the wall with the murmuring ceasing. A wave of cold air rushes into the room. Footsteps grow louder until they stop behind her. The voice of it remains silent, but its aura, however, tickles Kishtung's nerves. It’s the commander of the Starbird Group.

Exhaling sharply through her nose, Kishtung tilts her head up a little, her eyes still shut. “Did you get it?”

A cold sigh erupts from behind her as commander Girkin’s shrill voice echoes off the walls. “No, we did not. Our agents could not retrieve what you are seeking. The target fled to the highway and into the farmlands. We’ve lost eyes.”

Suddenly, a spark explodes in Kishtung’s chest. The fluorescent light above her flickers as for a brief moment, the dark shadows of the outside world rush in, flooding every breath of light with darkness. Her jaws clench as she opens her eyes, a small but powerful flame burning within her.

“You lost it?” Kishtung growls. Slowly she opens her eyes with clenched fists. An impatient sigh erupts as she slowly stands up. She closes her eyes briefly, trying to stop the storm raging within her, but the words spill out before she can stop them. “Time is our worst enemy right now, and you’ve lost it?”

She turns around, pushing her robes away from her legs with her arms. She glances with cold eyes at Girkin. “I cannot afford to waste time.”

Girkin presses his lips as the annoyance grows in his pupils. “Look, kid. These are no longer the days of the Republic where you apparently still live. These are the Empire days. The more our agents stay in the open, the more I risk of losing them. I cannot waste time, but my men are equally important.”

Kishtung shakes her head as the frustration grows within her. “You were not dealing with a Sith. You were dealing with a child.”

Girkin scoffs. “It makes you wonder what kind of kriffed up shit they did to that child.”

“Well, I’m losing time,” Kishtung snaps. “The longer the Artefact stays in enemy hands, the bigger the odds will be it will land in two truly evil hands.” With pounding footsteps, she approaches him. The light in the ceiling flickers. “Whatever the Artefact holds, the Empire may use it for their own, evil cause.”

Girkin’s gaze becomes glassy. “What’s this Artefact anyway? What’s so special about it?”

Kishtung’s eyes drift away, locking to the crevices that have formed deep in the concrete wall. Water droplets leaking out of pipes seep out. As her eyes lock onto the crevices, the wall suddenly cracks, tearing apart as the light above her goes dead. The memories rush back for a moment, gripping her with fear.

“Me and my master were sent out to retrieve an artefact researchers had found at an old Sith temple,” Kishtung stammers. “But Trandoshan pirates ransacked the research station and fled with it.”

She remembers holding the Artefact across her chest as Jedi Master Tilman fought the Trandoshan pirates flooding into the corridor of their ship. She stood in the carbonite chamber, unable to move as her master’s lightsaber flashed like lightning, fighting the electrostaffs the Trandoshans swung at him. 

“Master,” she cried. “There are too many!”

Tilman swung his lightsaber into the chest of a pirate as he glanced at her. “Keep fighting, I got you!”

Then, a blasterbolt hit his shoulder. Kishtung gasped with terror as the Trandoshans slithered with fury. However, Tilman stood up, unwilling to accept defeat, and deflected another blasterbolt back to its source. A Trandoshan marksman fell to the floor as his fellow pirates moved closer to the Jedi, their electrostaff hissing with death.

However, Kishtung saw there were simply too many. The Trandoshans flooded the corridor like ants, throwing everything they had to get back the Artefact they had stolen.

“Master, we can’t hold,” she cried. 

For a fraction of a second, Tilman glanced at her as he swung his lightsaber over his back and sliced the throats of three pirates in one swing. There, in his eyes, Kishtung saw the defeat flickering in his pupils. He too realised they couldn’t hold indefinitely.

“Kishtung, I know this may be hard for you,” he uttered, swinging his saber, “but you must flee. Plan-C.”

Plan-C. If the ship was overrun and the escape pods were inaccessible, then there was only one option left to escape: Plan-C.

Kishtung’s lungs raced. “And you?”

“I’ll cover you,” he cried.

Kishtung gasped. That meant something else; He wasn’t coming along. Her feet were frozen to the floor as she stared at her master for what may be the last time.

“Get moving,” his voice echoed through the slaughtering, “get in the carbon chamber!”

Kishtung stumbled backwards, almost tripping over her feet as she forced herself to move. She ran to the back of the chamber and activated the machine. Lights flickered and the whole carbonite chamber started hissing as if it was tearing itself apart. Steam rushed over the floor as Kishtung stepped into the open coffin where the condensed tibanna gas was going to freeze her. 

As the machine was activating, Kishtung’s eyes landed on her master, covering her escape with every bit of power he had left. Her heart pounded with hope, hoping he would overmaster them all at the last moment. His lightsaber spun, deflecting a storm of blasterfire into the Trandoshans, but even that did not seem to stop them. 

Come on, keep standing, master , she thought. Then, the machine around her started hissing. Cold, condensed tibanna gas spewed into her, covering her with metallic ice. Kishtung froze as her everything became a haze. The flashes before her became vague dots. But then, as clear as crystal, Kishtung saw an electrostaff shooting through her master’s chest, sticking out of his back. His agonising scream echoed through her ears and Kishtung let out one, final cry as tears stroke down her cheek, until the carbonite had frozen her in time.

At her master’s command, the central computer blew itself up. The corridors were torn apart and the ship was destroyed, except for her and the Artefact…

With watery eyes, Kishtung gazes at the floor. The last memories of her master rush back like lightning. The Trandoshan slithers still echo through her ears as she finally manages to look away. 

“I have to complete this mission for my master,” she murmurs, her voice breaking apart as she glances at Girkin. “We still don’t know what the Artefact holds, but the unknown is dangerous in the wrong hands.”

Girkin’s expression softens as he presses his lips. Understanding flickers in his eyes. “I understand you want it back at all costs. I understand the risks the Artefact holds as long as this girl has it. But please understand that these days, the price of manpower is staggeringly high. I cannot throw everyone we’ve got.”

Kishtung closes her eyes and inhales deeply through her nose. The frustration within her calms down and she nods, slowly. “I understand.”

A short smile forms on Girkin’s face. “Thank you.”

“However,” Kishtung responds, “since time is running out, perhaps it is best to let me retrieve the Artefact on my own. Your men won’t risk capture.”

Girkin glances down, uncertain of Kishtung’s proposal. “Right… Well, we’ve lost all traces to the Artefact and the girl. How are you going to find her?”

Kishtung knows it might be a problem. She shrugs and turns around, pondering, until a memory races through her mind. Kishtung swallows with discomfort rising in her chest. That girl may be untraceable, but she has a sister. She knows it is a wrong move, but she can be found easily…

***

The Capital is behind them as they drive over the rural roads through the strolling hills of the farmlands. The dark green vegetation flashes past her as Eva’s eyes linger to the clear night sky. The dots in the starfield flicker a little as if they are very much alive, pounding with a heart. As the wind whips her hair, Daxan tilts his head up. “So, let's plan ahead. What do you think we can find there?”

Eva breaks her stare at the stars and moves closer to him to speak. “That Rebel spoke about two bases. We already know the location of one. If we find that one, we may find the other base, which might be their main base of operations, and if we find that one, we will probably find the Padawan. She is target one.”

Instead of asking further, Daxan nods. “Okay, I see now why. Got it.”

No doubts there. Eva hopes he’s realising now that she is leading this, not him. If not, well, ditching always works.

Suddenly, Daxan yanks his speeder to the left into another road, driving away from where they’re supposed to go. Confused, Eva leans towards Daxan while holding tightly onto the bike.

“Hey, you went the wrong way,” Eva murmurs.

Daxan tilts his head up. “No worries. I’m just taking a detour.”

Detour? You’re kidding me? We have no time to waste. That alien’s gonna bomb some transfer in four days and you’re taking a sightseeing trip? 

“A detour? But-, but-, why?” Eva growls. “We can’t waste time.”

“Just hold on,” Daxan urges.

“Daxan!” Eva cries. “That alien’s gonna bomb a transfer soon and there are Rebels in that hide-out. We can’t waste time like this.”

Daxan remains silent and pushes the throttle even further, yanking his bike forward. Eva clings tightly onto his bike, trying to reach him as the frustration grows like wildfire. “Daxan. You hear me? We have to get going. We can’t-,”

Suddenly, as they round a bend, the sprawling city of Vaulent Capital with the light of its buildings and rushing speeders appear. The lights of the city twinkle like the stars. 

The sight takes her breath away and she loses all words instantly. “-waste… time…” 

Daxan stops next to the railing of the viewpoint as Eva’s eyes linger to the view. He hops off and extends his hand. “Eva. Take my hand.”

Eva breaks her stare and glances at him. “What?”

“Just do it.”

What? 

Her heart starts to pound with unease. Eva hesitates. What is this going to be? A love letter? She almost recoils by the thought. Daxan is not gonna be the sucker Kuma is, right? Getting in the way just for his own agenda? But as Eva scans his eyes, they seem serious and sharp, not softness or nervousness she would expect him to have. He seems to have something else in mind. 

Eva stammers. “Just-, only if we continue after, right?”

“Right,” Daxan nods.

Eva still hesitates for a moment, but the intrigue takes over her thoughts. If it isn’t his own agenda, what else is he pushing? She may get the answers if she complies. And she feels like the decision won’t bounce back at her. She knows she can trust him, even if Daxan seemed doubtful earlier. As long as she gets to continue afterwards, and thus, with her heart slightly pounding, Eva takes his hand slowly. Daxan’s skin feels cold and rough as he pulls her from his bike and on her feet. Their footsteps echo as he leads her to the edge of the viewpoint. Her heart fills with awe as Daxan forces her hand onto the frigid railing. Her breath catches in her throat as she stares at the endless lines of roads and streets reaching for the horizon. The skyline of Trustfall Center seems taller from the farmlands like beacons. However, the sight before her escapes her mind as quickly it enters through her eyes. She cannot understand yet why Daxan brought her here. With her eyes lingering to the view, Eva leans towards Daxan standing next to her.

“What are we doing here?” she asks, barely above a whisper.

“Just-, enjoy the view,” Daxan responds, just as quietly.

Just watch? Okay.

A flashing blue glow races through one of the major roads, passing the red traffic lights and the yellow fluorescents of street lights. Its siren is barely audible in the soft breeze and the hums of the city. Instead of a concrete jungle, it is an ocean of lights constantly on the move, a city that breathes. The more Eva looks at the cityscape, the more it hypnotises her.

“And?” Daxan asks, softly.

“It’s-, it’s beautiful,” Eva murmurs.

Eva breathes in deeply. Instead of the foul stench of combustion gasses prickling in her nose, it is the fresh scent of leaves surrounding her. The orange-purple colours in the sky cast a serene glow over everything as the blazing sun slowly descends. A sunset has never looked more beautiful on Vaulent 6. The small orb of Vaulent Prime skims the top of the sun as it slowly vanishes below the horizon, forming a silhouette against the dreamy shades.

Eva leans with her elbows on the cold railing. With still the questions left, she glances slowly at Daxan with intrigue. “Why did you bring me here?” she barely whispers. “Honest answer.”

He inhales deeply through his nose as the orange glow of the city reflects faintly in his eyes. “I just wanted to put things on different gears, if you don’t mind. I’ve been following you for a day or two, and I can’t deny the fact that I’m fairly impressed.”

“Impressed?” Eva asks, shaking her head with confusion. Are you trying to hit on me, sleemo?

This seems like the start of the worst scenario she can imagine. Her heart almost sinks in her chest. However, Daxan’s eyes remain vigilant. The contradicting signals crash violently into each other in her mind and Eva is left in confusion.

“Your work method is quite efficient,” Daxan adds.

Eva glances away for a brief moment, uncertain of how to answer. “I… like to bury myself into the mission, yeah,” she stammers. “Taking everything onto me, diving in headfirst. It’s my thing.”

“Without even taking a break?” 

Eva remains quiet. What is his agenda, really? He has something up his sleeve, Eva can feel it. “What are you trying to reach?” she asks at last. “I don’t understand.”

“Look, appreciate the moment. Appreciate the view,” and he pauses, glancing at the skyline. “This mission you are on is so exhausting and straining, I see it in your eyes, your limbs. You were shaking back there.”

“It was an intense moment,” Eva snaps.

“It was,” Daxan nods. “And that’s why I’ve taken you here. You’re indulging yourself in the mission and forget to step back a gear and breathe, to live.”

“I can’t step back,” says Eva. “I cannot. I have a duty to fulfill. The Rebels are my enemy, and I won’t stop fighting them until they’re all dead.”

Daxan smirks. “I don’t think that is the only reason why you’re so obsessive-,”

“I’m not obsessive!” Eva cries, but even to her, her voice sounds uncertain. 

Daxan tilts his head a little, pondering. “Perhaps not. But what’s going on? What is really going on?”

A sigh escapes from Eva, filled with frustration. “What is going on is that I hate them,” she snarls. “My parents are dead because of them.”

“Hate? I thought you were joking when you promised that Rebel slug his survival. I didn’t think you were going through with it.”

“I respect promises.”

“You respect morals.” Daxan smirks. “Morals. You? An Imperial full of hate?”

Eva clasps her forehead with frustration gnawing her patience away. “I promised him not to be killed. I didn’t say he wouldn’t die by kriffin’ starvation or something. Look. I hate them. That’s all.”

Daxan drops his head and glances away with disappointment flickering in his eyes. “With that statement, would you rest your hand on the Code of the New Order?”

Eva stops, biting her lip. What she said was a lie. Even if she does not want to admit to telling the truth, she cannot claim it is the truth. The Code of the New Order cannot be disrespected. It is like swearing at Empire Day.

Eva swallows hard and glances away with unease. “No,” she whispers, stammering. “I would not.”

“Then tell me,” Daxan responds.

Eva clenches her fists, shaking her head as the turmoil starts rising in her chest. Her nerves start to scorch her alive as the towering skyline twists into tornadoes, while Daxan’s eyes heat up, burning on her skin with urgency.

 “Let the concrete down there soak in your confessions, the truth.” He puts his hand on her shoulder and shakes her. “Let it out. Why can’t you stop? What’s the drive?”

“Because I can’t sleep!” Eva cries at him. Her heart is racing in her chest. “I can’t sleep.” She drops to her knees with aching lungs and falls with her back into Daxan’s bike. She curls up, squeezing herself in her arms until she almost chokes herself. With almost watery eyes, she glances at Daxan as he looks down at her like a giant. “I have nightmares. Little children have them. I shouldn’t have them, yet I do.” A tear rolls over her cheek. “I saw my sister. She’s only eleven. I saw her on her knees, in the fire, with an ISB firing squad. I’m afraid.”

Daxan remains quiet for the breeze to whistle in the night sky. “Afraid of what?” his voice soft.

“Them.”

“Rebels?”

“My own kind.” Eva swallows hard as Daxan watches. “You’re right. I don’t hate Rebels. I don’t hate them the way I should. I see them with faces, with lives. And I’m afraid of whatever the ISB could do to me if they find out that I’m not the soldier I’m supposed to be.”

Her cheeks burn red as her heart aches. Confessing her problems feels like breaking a dam open. It feels wrong, very wrong, to admit she is not the soldier she’s supposed to be. “I am expected to kill without mercy, to hate every enemy I come across, grind their faces into the dirt without thinking twice. Violence is not my answer. It’s the solution. A cursed solution. I’m bound to what I should be, a perfect soldier with violence as its solution, but-, but I can’t. I can’t be the perfect soldier.”

“Should you be perfect?”

“I have to be,” Eva’s voice breaks. “Why shouldn’t I?”

“Life? Beauty? Serenity?” Daxan snaps. He drops to the ground and shuffles closer to her, staring at her with sharp eyes. “Stone cold, mindless, hateful, is that who you are deep inside? Is that what you in your entirety should be?”

“It’s what they want.”

“But is it what you want?”

Eva stalls. 

“You’re breaking while trying so hard to remain the cold blooded, Rebel scum killer. There’s more than just the military,” Daxan snarls. “Just-, look at the treasure of a view that’s before you. You are digging yourself so deep into this mission that you’re destroying yourself. You don’t enjoy the things of beauty that you come across,” and he shoves closer to her. “The pressure is killing yourself and you’re allowing it. You can’t even get a knot in your hair without struggling.”

Eva swallows. She hates to admit it. She despises admitting her wrongdoing, but this mission she has willingly taken on herself is slowly but surely destroying herself. The pressure from higher-up to kill at command without any thought is crushing her. Rebels are not faceless demons, they are people with their own reasons to fight. That may be why she saw Eline kneeling to an ISB firing squad; the fear of seeing an ISB firing squad herself, executing her for Rebel sympathy. She might be a rebel herself, even if she’s fighting against it. Everything she has taken on herself is pulling her apart to the point she cannot even tie her hair into a knot the right way, something she used to do flawlessly all the time.

Eva realises she needs moments to breathe when the heat is scorching her. She knows she’s been visiting Eline from time to time to cool down from the hectic Academy days, but when she’s alone, Eva seems to struggle with it. Once she’s back in the military, all that matters is the helmet. 

As her eyes linger to the flickering lights of the skyline, Eva struggles to breathe, her lungs aching with pain as her voice turns shallow and small. “I-, I understand. But-, what should I do?” she sobs. “All I know is fighting.”

“Start by breathing,” Daxan responds, his voice soft. He reaches out to her and wipes the tears from her cheeks, rubbing his warm hands over her skin. 

The clog in her throat slowly clears away and Eva lets out a sigh of comfort, feeling the unease and the shame flooding out of her chest.

 “Just take a kriffin’ break from all the action,” he adds, his breath gently blowing into her face.

Eva grasps Daxan’s arms firmly with shivering hands.

Daxan pulls his hand from her cheeks. “I’m sorry. I forgot you didn’t like-,”

“No,” Eva sobs. “Keep going,” and she drops her head on his arm and sighs with a broken voice. “I’m exhausted.”

Daxan’s pupils shimmer with confusion, unsure of her response as if he’s talking to a drunk person, but he nods and wipes away Eva’s last tears. The soft brushes of his fingertips stroke her cold heart with warming comfort, damaged by the straining mission she has brought upon herself. For a moment, the eyes of her superiors no longer feel like they’re there. No longer is there a greater good, a mission or a galaxy to cleanse. There’s only this moment, a serene view over a magnificent city.

As her eyes linger to the twinkling lights of the city, she shuffles closer to Daxan, mesmerised by the view, until her thoughts drift away to something. She chokes in her breath. She almost forgot something.

Eva swings her backpack onto her lap and zips it open, drawing in the intrigued eyes of Daxan instantly. Eva rummages through her content as he watches her and pulls out a box of cookies. The pink hair of Lola explodes out of the label with colour.

“What-, where did you get that from?” Daxan asks.

Eva strips it open. “The fuel station.”

Daxan smirks. “You took it during the firefight?” 

Eva chuckles. “I mean, they’re cookies. Can’t leave ‘em behind.”

Daxan chuckles as well and together, they watch the city slowly going asleep while eating the cookies of Lola’s Academy , filling her grumbling stomach.

As they keep watching the city, the amount of lights on the roads decrease. The exhaustion starts setting in. The city lights slowly turn into vague orbs amidst brushes of black and grey until she falls asleep with the soft sounds of a sleeping jungle of concrete at her feet.

Daxan, still watching the skyline in awe, swallows hard. “Hey, there’s something I want to tell you,” he stammers. His heart pounds in his chest with nervousness, but then, his eyes land on Eva, her eyes shut and her head on his shoulder. Her long hair hides most of her face, and Daxan chokes in his words. I shouldn’t wake her up. It’s been a long day. 

Carefully, Daxan puts his hand below Eva’s head and repositions her body carefully. He straightens her legs on the ground and gently lays her head on his lap below his jacket. His hand gently brushes a strand of hair away from her face and lets her sleep. With a smile of comfort, he whispers softly. “Sleep well, Eva.”

Sleep well…

***

Deep, deep in the night, something pulls Eline from her sleep—a sound so quietly, it almost feels like an irregular beat of her heart, but enough to stir her wide awake. Eline uncurls from her bed and opens her eyes to the dark dorm at the scouting camp. Listening carefully, Eline hopes to hear it again, wanting to know what it was, but all she can hear is the hums of a nearby vent.

Then, the creak of a floorboard. Her senses sharpen and Eline sits up in her bed. She can hear footsteps. Slow, careful, growing fainter and fainter.

Intrigued, Eline slips out of bed. The coldness of the floor ripples through her bare feet as she curls her arms around herself and moves silently towards the door. She pulls it open slightly, just enough to peek through.

The corridor of the building is dark. Many dorms connect to this hallway, and there, at the end, a window is left open. The breeze blows into the bleak curtains, making it flutter like spirits. She embraces herself tighter as she shivers from the cold air crashing into her.

The Scouts is centered around group effort. Everyone does their part. Did someone forget to ensure the windows are closed? If Eline wouldn’t have noticed it, someone could have ransacked the place! 

Her heart pounds faintly as Eline steps into the corridor. Her ears fill with constant static as the silence feels deafening. She walks to the end of the hallway, sneaking on her toes to wake nobody up, and closes the window. Its handlebar creaks as the lock makes a light, metallic click. Closed.

A short smile forms on her face, happy to have done her duty. No one gets to ransack this place now.

The twinkling starfield in the lunar sky draws in her eyes and she peeks out of the glass. The sea of little dots flicker and shimmer as if they are all alive. Her breath forms a damp spot of moist on the glass as Eline stares at the night sky with awe.

Then, Eline shudders to a creak. She jolts around with combusting nerves. A shadow lungs at her. Eline jumps back, lets out a scream but a hand clamps over her mouth, silencing her voice. Her heart pounds in her chest like blastershots as Eline tries to free herself, stomping into the figure with her knees and feet until something cold and metallic stabs in her neck and a wave of pain zaps through her skin. Eline lets out a final, silenced cry as her muscles grow numb. Her panicking thoughts die out like extinguished flames as her vision blurs. The dark hallway stretches, twists, turns, spins, until the darkness dances around the edges of her vision and everything goes black…

Chapter Text

Racing down a desolate road through nowhere, Eva twists the strands of her blonde hair into a knot, shielding it from the relentless wind. Remaining quiet since they embarked from the viewpoint, Eva focuses on the passing scenery and clears her mind while she can. Daxan’s words of last night echo through her mind, now that she understands the weight of enjoying peace while it lasts. 

Clinging onto Daxan, a mighty structure of torn, duracrete pillars looms over the woods ahead of her. 

“Look!” Eva points out. “That should be the hovertrain bridge.”

Daxan hums and pushes the pedal a little further, dashing past trees and shrubs that turn into blurs of green.

During the first centuries of Vaulent 6, trains hovering across land and water transported goods to factories and settlements all across the moon. Not just goods though. People, too. Industrial communities the hovertrains weaved together, grew into sprawling cities. In the light of these days, their tracks are left behind, abandoned, to dominate the land they pierce through. Mighty lines of steel, crossing all over the moon.

Along the route of the hovertrain, there should be a hidden building belonging to the Rebels. At some point, it should cross a river. As they shriek further, the vegetation clears and the ocean-blue shades of water appear through the green shrubs. Her heart jumps for a moment as they’re nearing the destination.

Where the bridge returns to land on the other side of the river, Eva catches the glimpse of something. It is a structure darkened by the shadow of the bridge. That might be the hide-out they are looking for.

Daxan parks his speeder behind a shrub and they embark. With drawn blasters, Eva passes through shrubs towards the structure, low and quietly. 

On her toes, Eva approaches a steel door and waits for Daxan until he catches up. 

“This is so-,”

“Sssst!” Eva snaps.

Daxan swallows. “Sorry,” he whispers. “Got too excited.”

Eva hums. She quietly turns the doorknob, hoping to enter, but a metallic click erupts from within. Locked. If the door refuses to be a door, well, then she can make her own.

She turns to Daxan. “Attention.”

Daxan hums and squeezes the handgrip of his blaster. Eva aims at the doorknob and fires, shooting a burning hole through the door, destroying the lock. The door gently swings open and Eva aims her blaster into the building. Rays of sunlight shine through the holes in the metal roof, bathing the interior in a yellow hue. A smell of old, rusty steel and burnt plastic rush like a wave into her; a dreadful stench, prickling in the back of her throat. Crates lie randomly around, steel cabinets lie on their side, and the roof seems to collapse at any moment. But most importantly, it is abandoned, too abandoned it seems.

“On me,” Eva whispers.

Eva steps inside as Daxan follows her heels, copying exactly her moves as she scans her surroundings with her weapon. Her nerves burn as she scouts the area, but as Eva checks all corners one by one, there seems to be no Rebel anywhere. Not even on the roof, preparing to blow her up along with the building. No. It is abandoned and the Rebels are gone. What they have left behind is a mess.

“Are they already gone?” Daxan whispers.

Eva’s eyes dart around, pivots her head, but sees or hears no sign of anyone else with them. Slowly, Eva drops her blaster with her heart starting to race with frustration. “They’re gone,” and she curses under her breath, realising that the Rebel lied. “Blasted scumbag.” 

Daxan pries a broken crate open with his blaster. As the lid breaks off, he finds nothing. “Nothing,” he sighs. “They must have left in a hurry.”

Eva clenches her fist with anger. Why-, oh why did I ever believe that scumbag.

“He lied. That snow boat lied,” she hisses, grasping a stone from the ground.  “Ass sucker!” and she throws the stone at the garage door. 

A loud bang erupts as the door topples over and crashes onto the soil, letting the wind blow through the newly created crevice. 

Eva buries her face in her hands, trying to calm herself and let her lungs breathe with cold air. Her nerves slowly wind down as she drops her hands and casts her eyes downward, trying to calculate what’s next. 

“Hey, Eva,” Daxan’s voice breaks through her thoughts. “Look what I found.”

Clenching her fists, Eva turns around to Daxan with impatience. In his hands, Daxan holds the shimmering screen of a datapad and a sudden spark of hope erupts as Eva leaps towards him.

“Oh shit,” Eva murmurs. She grasps the datapad from his hand and wipes off the layers of dust from the screen, feeling each crack pricking in her fingers.

“Found it in some forgotten container,” Daxan responds.

Eva gives him a nod. “Good find,” and she activates the device.

Eva watches it flickering to life. She finds the datalogs that have been stored on this device, and to her surprise, Eva sees it contains files. Trying to open some, Eva finds out that some are corrupted, but halfway through, she pulls up a file that is still intact.

She pulls up a list of logs. Most of them contain timestamps, but it is not clear what. Eva’s eyebrows furrow as she moves the screen away from her, puzzled and confused. It all seems random, the mumbling of a madman recorded by a psychiatrist, but Eva senses there is something behind it. Beyond the lines, the digits of Binary code, there must be a message; ‘something something’ at the very least. These timestamps mean something, but she cannot understand yet why. 

Eva hands it to Daxan. “It contains timestamps of something, I think. Can you make sense of it?”

Daxan takes the datapad and glances over the entries. He frowns as the screen is reflected in his eyes. “These timestamps seem to have been carefully taken. Like, it’s not 15:34 or something. It’s exactly 15:00 or 15:30, or something.”

“What could that mean?”

Daxan shrugs. “I’m not sure. Looks like a schedule of something.”

“Transfers?” Eva asks.

“Yeah. Supply runs, movements, something. Question is of which side these refer to.”

Eva nods. “Could be Rebel or Imperial.”

“Or anything else. It can literally be the timetable of a starliner or a taxicab.”

Eva drops her head. She swivels with her feet. “Any kriffin’ thing,” she sighs.

She can’t make sense of it. The evidence is so vague it can be about anything. This won’t get her much farther. But perhaps it may come to use later. Eva slips the datapad into her bag and zips it shut, sweeping it onto her back and gazing into oblivion, deep in her thoughts. Now what? Now. What? I thought I could find something here. Well, it’s a dead end, I guess.

Eva buries her face in her hands, recognising that, if she wants to find a solution somehow, she’ll have to think in peace. She prepares to walk away. “I need some air.”

Eva walks outside, hearing the wind whistle through the cracks of the dilapidated building. Walking through the tall grass, Eva breathes in and out, trying to clear her mind. Kicking the little rocks on the riverbank, the rushing, clear water sparkles like stars. Eva drops to her knees and sticks her hand in the cold water, gently moving around her wrist as it tickles on her skin. She washes her forehead as her eyes linger on the scenery on the other side--a lush green forest with above, the bright, blue sky. Drops of water streak down her face and round her chin, tickling her skin gently.

Eva sits down on the side of the river as her ears fill with the rustling sound of the water rushing past her feet. The sound tickles in her ears, clearing her mind of some frustration, but not all has washed away.

Daxan drops to his feet next to her. His boots disturb the gravel and they quietly watch the water rushing away, past their feet.

At last, Eva breaks the gentle silence and lets out a faint sigh. “It’s hopeless,” she murmurs.

Daxan glances at her. “Hopeless?” he snorts.

“We can do nothing with just a timetable,” Eva responds.

Daxan presses his lips and his eyes drift away. “I know how that can feel. Couldn’t make dick from balls too.”

Eva breaks into a chuckle. “Dick from balls? Really?”

Daxan chuckles too. “Sorry.”

“Nah, I’ll keep that in mind whenever I’ll need it,” Eva smiles, barely holding in her laughter.

Daxan shakes his head with a smile, chuckling lightly. His cheeks turn faintly red, barely noticeable to Eva as she looks at him until she glances away and at the rushing water.

“But…” Eva murmurs. “It really is a shit position we’re in right now. We crashed face first into a dead end.”

Daxan nods in silence. He leans back on his hands as his gaze drifts over the rushing water. “It’s funny,” he says quietly, as if speaking to himself. “You think it’s a dead end, and then, when you wanna crush your head against the wall, the maze shifts.”

Eva glances at him. Her eyes drift to his fingers fidgeting slightly on the gravel. Is something bothering him? This seems rather… anecdotal? What is he up to?

Daxan snorts lightly. “Yeah. Had to learn that the hard way.”

Eva tilts her head as her curiosity sparks. “What do you mean?”

Slowly, Daxan glances at her. His eyes are unreadable, but his breath trembles faintly with nervousness. “There are… things nobody knows about me.” He seems to hesitate as the words are on the tip of his tongue. 

Eva narrows her eyes at him, sensing the weight behind his tone. What is he so nervous about? “Like what?”

Daxan shifts uncomfortably. He buries his hands slightly in the gravel. At last, he takes a big gasp of air while Eva watches him closely with intense eyes.

Suddenly, the sharp howl of Eva’s wristlink shatters the stillness. She jolts, her heart skipping a beat as if an explosion has gone off. In an instant, her hand moves to tap the button and moves her wristlink close to her chin. “With me.”

“Eva.” It is the voice of ACY. 

Daxan exhales softly as his eyes drift away.

Eva eyebrows rise with surprise. “Acy? Didn’t expect you. What do you need from me?”

ACY remains silent on the other end, leaving Eva with uncertainty. “Eva, I have urgent news regarding your sister.”

Oh. Did her meds not arrive? She remembers when Eline skipped her medication because she ran out of it. A new delivery was to come, however, and she did not bother. However, it became clear that skipping even one day made Eline struggle more with breathing. Failing to take the medicine all together may have catastrophic results—her lungs collapsing under their own wounds. It is of high importance that Eline takes it in. 

With worry, Eva’s hands clench. “Did her meds fail to arrive?”

“No,” ACY responds. “I am not quite sure how to tell you this.”

“Just fire away.”

ACY remains silent. “The Imperial Scouting Group contacted us about your sister. She has gone missing.”

Eva’s heart stops. The water stops rushing past her feet. “What?”

“Your sister was not accounted for during the morning inspection at the Imperial Scouting Group,” ACY responds.

Her heart starts pounding erratically as Eva’s eyes burn through the gravel. The air she breathed in moments ago now feels like shards of ice stabbing deep into her lungs like knives. Eline, gone? No, that isn’t possible. Her gasps turn into wheezes as Eva shakes her head. “No. No. It can’t be. They must’ve just missed her when counting heads.”

“Capital Police is already on-site,” ACY snaps. “Even they have not found her.”

Eva’s eyes water as her lungs shudder. “You-, you’ve got to be kidding me,” she wheezes, trembling as the thoughts start to sink in. 

Then, the water rushes past her feet quicker. Whirlpools form as the water crashes into the riverbank like a hurricane setting foot on land. The light of the sun vanishes and she is left in the shadows. Eline, then sleeping, and now, gone from the face of the moon. Her stomach twists and turns into knots. Her legs shake and are at the brink of collapse, but before she can break down, Eva’s eyes turn cold and stare at Daxan.

“Daxan,” she almost cries with a steady voice. “We have to go.”

Daxan’s jaws tighten, his eyes bathed in fear as he nods. “Understood.”

They sprint through the shrubs, branches snapping under their heels as they reach the speeder. Eva’s heart pounds in her ears as Daxan turns his speeder to life. Eva leaps onto the back, gripping tightly as Daxan speeds forward. The clouds turn into twisters as the woods turn into frantic blurs of bleak green, racing faster than ever before.

Eline. Oh, Eline. Don’t tell me it’s true. Please, let this be a joke.

Eva’s thoughts race through her mind, whispering, screaming, and mumbling, forming incohesive twisters of words. Her gaze lingers on the blurs of the trees as they shriek towards Eline’s camp.

With her nerves boiling her alive, they drive onto the parking lot. Dozens of police cruisers block the entrance with holographic ribbons splitting a world in two. Officers guide the personnel and little scouts away from the site as they approach. Eline must still be there, right? 

With her lungs burning with agony, Eva jumps off and sprints towards the camp. Her sight narrows with panic, gasping for air as she dashes past personnel, until two arms of an officer stop her and almost bring her to the ground. “Stop stop stop!”

Eva crashes into him, trying to push him aside. “Let me go!”

More officers rush in, taking hold of her arms and pulling her away as she tries to break free with tears streaming down her cheeks.

“Let me go!” Eva sobs. At last, she collapses to her knees with burning eyes, shivering and crying. “My sister-” her voice breaks.

The officers let go of her, recognising she’s no longer an imminent threat. One officer, seemingly the chief commissary, steps towards her. His jaws tighten as his hand touches his holster. “It’s okay. Calm down.”

Eva wheezes as her lungs tighten. “My sister-,” and she swallows in an agonising knot in her throat. “Tell me you found her. Please!”

The officer’s pupils widen as shock shimmers in the corners of his eyes. He kneels before her as Eva drops her head with tears splashing on her knees. He lets out an uncomfortable sigh. “I’m sorry. We’re doing everything we can.”

Her heart shatters, a gaping hole left in its place. Eva looks up at him. Her tear-streaked face and burning cheeks twist with despair. “I need to see her room,” she stammers, her voice trembling. “I need to see. Please.”

The commissioner presses his lips with hesitance. “I’m sorry, but I’m affraid that I-,”

“Please,” Eva whispers, her voice shaking.

The commissioner glances at the officers around him, hesitating to let her pass the limits, until he nods slowly. “Alright,” he responds, his tone careful. “But. Don’t touch anything. The investigation team has not arrived yet. Until they do, we have to preserve the scene.”

Eva nods, barely able to push herself to her feet. She stumbles back a step until Daxan, who has been standing nearby and powerless, catches her. The trees of the woods twist and turn into hurricanes in the corner of her eyes as Eva wanders behind the chief commissioner, dazed and deaf to the whispers of the birds. 

Stepping inside one of the big, wooden buildings of the campsite, Eva’s world narrows to the door in front of her, bearing the name of Eline on a metal plate, the last wall between her and the truth of her sister’s fate. 

The door creaks open, threatening and eerie. Eva’s eyes linger on the bed directly in front of her. The bedsheet lies half on the floor, hanging down from the side. 

Daxan swallows. “Want me to stay out?”

Eva doesn’t respond. She steps inside first as the commissioner stays behind. She crashes into a frigid atmosphere, colder than outer space. Her lungs ache with the cool air rushing through her tightening throat. Her gaze sweeps over the room, her eyes drawing from the bed to her rusty bowcaster lying on the nightstand. The carpet on the wooden floor has a crooked tip, pointing at the door. Thoughts race through her mind as Eva rushes to take in every detail of Eline’s room. A crooked tip, pointing at the door… she must have left through the door. Willingly or forced?

Her eyes draw to her desk. The chair’s backrest is shoved against the tablesheet. So, she did not use it. Did she come straight out of bed?

Then, Eva notices something sitting on the desk, something that does not seem to belong there; a small, circular device. A red light blinks on the side. For a moment, the thought of it being Eline’s alarm rushes through her mind, but it seems too small to be one. It seems more like a communication device. A hologram, perhaps? Did Eline leave something behind? A message?

The warnings of the commissioner rushes into her mind, but despite it, Eva steps closer, craving to get answers, her fingers trembling as she activates the device. On top, a ghostly figure in blue appears with headtails stretching down and a dark cloak sweeping down. Her breath catches in her throat. Her lungs stop. It’s her, it’s the Padawan.

“Eva,” her voice hisses, dripping with malice. “This is directed to you, and only you. If you see this, you may already be aware of your sister. My true apologies, but-,” and then, with seemingly a long sigh of hesitation, she pulls Eline into the picture. 

Eva gasps, her world shattering as she almost collapses to her feet. Her gaze lingers on Eline, her cheeks swollen as tears rain down from her eyes, wailing in agony, only for her voice to be silenced by a gag of cloth stuck in her mouth. Eva swallows. “Eline,” she breaks. What have they done to you?

“You have left me with no choice,” the Padawan adds with clenched teeth.

The Padawan tightens her grip on Eline’s arm. Her sister cries with pain as she tries to shake her captor off, but the Twi’lek remains to hold a vicious grip on Eline’s life.

 “If you want to see your sister again, bring me the stone, the Artefact. Come and meet us, alone. Coordinates and time are attached.”

Then, Eline kicks into the Twi’lek’s shin, weakening her grip for a short moment. In the window of time, Eline manages to shake the ball of cloth out of her mouth, coughing it out on the invisible ground with red eyes. “Eva!” she cries. “Help me. I lost my inhaler-,” and she coughs with agony in her voice.

The inhaler…

Eva jolts around, her eyes darting around until they land on the nightstand where Eline’s inhaler lies. The sight sends waves of panic through her. Her lungs start to wheeze as she realises that, without the inhaler, Eline’s injury will grow agonisingly painful. It is the only thing that keeps her lungs alive, away from total collapse from its wounds. And Eline is now without it, in Rebel's custody. 

“Quiet!” the Twi’lek snaps. 

A smack echoes through the room as Eline’s voice turns into a cry of agony until her sobs become muffled.

“Eva. Don’t make me wait,” and the hologram shuts off.

Staring at the inhaler, the room falls into a dead silence. Her gasps fill the space as her hands shake with sweat all over her skin. Then, slowly, the bloodcurdling panic turns dark. The room darkens, the clouds twist as her turmoil coalesces into a singular emotion--rage.

Eline didn’t walk away. She was abducted, taken straight out of her bed without mercy, silenced and hurt, none other by the Twi’lek and her newly-found Rebel colleagues. And now, Eline has become the pawn, a senseless tool, to make Eva comply with her demands, using her injury as leverage. Eva’s eyes narrow as her nails dig deep into her palms, piercing her skin as the burning fury howls with rage. Fire shimmers in her pupils as her body trembles, barely holding herself together. 

Without a word, Eva storms out of the room with pounding footsteps and dashes past Daxan, caught by surprise. “Wait, Eva.”

She slams the door open and runs out until she passes the ribbons with a racing heart. The shadows of the trees grow longer, casting tall, dark silhouettes over the soil like giant figures.

Daxan quickly catches up with her, the concern etched across his face as his voice turns soft. “Eva, what happened to her?”

Eva closes her eyes, trying not to break down. Her knuckles have grown pale with pain. “They took her,” she whispers, shivering.

“What?”

“They took her!” Eva cries, and turns to him, her words as sharp as broken glass. “They took her, Daxan! That alien took her.”

Daxan gasps, his pupils growing with shock as he stands motionless, his skin turning pale. “Why-, what does she have to do with this?”

Eva’s eyes narrow further. “She wants the Artefact, and I have it. They-, those scumbags,” she cries, “they want it in exchange for my sister. In exchange for her kriffin’ life!” 

Tearing up, Eva crashes into Daxan’s arms, splintering into sobs with ragged breaths. Hot tears stream down her face as her eyes blaze with agony. But the shards of glass melt as the flames rise through the cracks of her agony. And as her fury howls with rage in her chest, her nails dig even deeper into her palms. Her mind clears with only one thought, one objective, screaming in singularity; no matter the price, that Twi’lek will be killed. No one gets to pull as little as a strand of hair from Eline. No one will walk away from that alive. No one will, and a plan instantly comes to her mind.

She clenches her jaws. “Hellspawn demons,” she hisses, her head against his chest. “I’m going to find her, and I’ll kill her.”

Daxan tilts his head down to her, his arms curled around her body, pressing her against himself. “How?” he whispers. “We’ve lost all traces.”

“They want it in exchange for her,” Eva growls. “They can get me.”

“What?” Daxan pulls Eva away with shock, tilting her head up to look straight into her red eyes. “You’re going to turn yourself in?”

“What other choice do I have?” Eva responds. She swallows hard. “Eline’s without her meds. She won’t breathe in less than a week. I have to get to her. I have to save her.”

“But-, but…that’s exactly what she’s counting on,” Daxan stammers. “Rushing in, playing right into her trap, receiving you with open arms--that’s what she needs to accomplish. You can’t give them their victory. It is telling them that abducting children is working. There has to be another way. There-, there just has to be.”

Eva shakes her head. “No. We don’t have time. Our last trace became a dead end. We found nothing. I have nothing, except for the Artefact. Eline is in danger, and I can’t lose her. Daxan. I. Can’t. Lose. Her.”

Daxan shuffles closer to her while still holding her burning cheeks. “Eva. I know. I know you can’t. I wouldn’t either. But right now, breathe. You’re not thinking crystal. You’re running off.”

“My sister’s been kidnapped,” she gasps. “How else am I supposed to get her back?”

“Listen to me, we put a homing beacon in your shoes. When you meet them, we call the ISB and the Army and take them by surprise.”

“I can’t do that,” Eva sobs, swallowing hard. “What if she sees through it? That Twi’lek has her blade against her throat. She’ll slash her. Whatever our plan will be, I can’t risk it.”

“But we cannot risk the Twi’lek discovering the true purpose of the Artifact either,” Daxan responds. “Even we don’t know what it does. All we know is that it's somehow important to a mystical guardian of disproportionate power. Are you sure we—the Empire—can risk it?”

Eva glares down, recognising the conflict. If Eline is to be saved, she must hand in the Artifact. If the Empire is to be saved from whatever power or secret the Artifact is hiding, she must face the slashing of her own sister. Eva closes her eyes, dropping her head, having to make an undesirable decision, no matter which road she takes. 

“I don’t know,” Eva whispers, wiping the tears off her cheeks.

Daxan holds her arms, biting his lips with the agonising torture reflected in his eyes. “Forget what I want,” he stammers. “Just-, just do what you desire. Follow what your heart tells you.”

Eva glances up, her heart beating like it’s in her throat. “I want to save her. I want Eline back. I don’t want to take risks while getting there.”

Daxan’s eyes drift away, letting out a sigh until he nods, accepting her decision. 

“I’ll be gone. Don’t follow me,” Eva responds, wiping away the last tears from her cheeks. Her eyes still burn like fire. “But-, but I’ll kill her. I’ll kill her after I’ve saved Eline, no matter what. I swear.”

Daxan swallows, struggling to see her go. “Are you sure?”

“Just take me to the coordinates and go home,” Eva responds. 

Fiddling with his feet, Daxan hesitates, but finally nods with acceptance. 

With her fury burning with flames, Eva’s eyes linger on the buildings of the Capital, turning into hazes of vague structures as Daxan brings her to the agreed place, a desolate parking area in a commercial district, alone and barren. Eva hops off, glances at Daxan in the eyes shortly. A look of goodbye shimmers in his dark pupils as, after a brief moment of reflection, he pushes the pedal and shrieks away, out of the parking area.

Leaning against the lightpole, Eva’s eyes are fixated on the tarmac, waiting and waiting as the blue sky turns yellow, orange, and at last, darker and darker. The lights of the city reflect off the clouds like faint flares as a cold breeze fiddles with her hair. Though it’s been hours after sunset, her mind remains wide awake, unable to rest. Her hands squeeze Eline’s inhaler in her hand.

Nervous thoughts flash through her mind. Where are the Rebels? Why are they taking so long? Are they hesitating? Eva’s heart pounds as her hands shiver. They must come, right?

Then, after countless hours of waiting, headlights turn onto the parking area, their engines shrieking towards her as two speederbikes and a truck stop before her. Her heart fills relief for a moment, but it is quickly pressed away. The drivers draw their blaster pistols with eyes sharper than blades.

Her heart beating, Eva lifts her hands in the air as the drivers enclose her. Rebel soldiers pour out of the truck’s back as their footsteps echo off the tarmac.

“Don’t move,” says one. He walks towards her and snatches the inhaler out of her hand. He fiddles it around in his hands as he glances at her. “What’s this?”

Eva swallows, her lips pressing tightly into a thin line. “Where’s my sister?”

The Rebel draws his blaster and smacks it into her stomach. Eva groans and falls to her knees, wrapping her arms around her stomach with pain. Her jaws clench as her eyes remain fixated on the ground. “It’s-, just an inhaler,” she gasps, biting through the pain. “My sister needs it.”

The Rebel continues to fiddle with it in his hands. A quick inspection by a colleague confirms it to be a medicinal inhaler. He throws it on the ground before her with a clatter. A hint of rage combusts in her chest, her gasps turning into a hiss of anger. Rebel scum.

The handcuffs bite into her wrists, a feeling she’s gotten used to since the last time she’s had them. They push her into the back of the truck, putting her down at the far back of the cabin. A lone light in the roof illuminates it dimly as the door closes and the last sight of the starry night vanishes.

As her eyes are fixated on the weathered, metal floor, Eva’s nerves burn with anxiety, knowing that whatever she is getting into is complete wildspace; an unexplored world where all that’s to guide her are the sharp eyes of the Rebel Alliance, the teeth of the hounds to keep her in line. Thoughts race through her mind, unsure of what to face, but Eva knows that all of this will have one result: Eline’s rescue and the Twi’lek’s death. That is for certain. All and everything just for Eline’s blue, sparkling eyes, her joy and her plays. Eline. Please, be okay, Eline.

Time feels like it has stopped or never ticked by in the first place as, after so long, the truck's vibrations vanish. The engine stops running, leaving the cabin with silence until the Rebels open the cabin’s door. Eva’s eyes dart from the floor to the door as the Rebels step out. The two nearest to her draw their blasters. One takes hold of her hands, pulling onto her handcuffs and dragging her out of the truck like a lifeless doll. She jumps down, panting with her wrists burning with pain. Glancing around quickly, Eva notices she is inside of the hangar of some sort of building. It is the same kind of hangar where large, very large, heavy-duty machinery is stored, like excavators. However, instead of that, the hangar is filled with repurposed trucks, modified by the Rebels. 

Eva is stomped on her back. She stumbles forward, looking over her shoulder with clenched jaws as a Rebel guards her. “Forward, Imp.”

“Rebel scum,” Eva hisses, whispering to herself as she starts walking forwards.

Seeing the entrance coming closer, Eva feels a wave of dread washing over her, wondering what the hell she was thinking, uncertain for a brief moment whether she made the right choice. But Eline’s inhaler rattling from inside her backpack reminds her that there was no choice to begin with. The alien has her blade against Eline’s throat. All she can do is comply; anything to save her. 

With uncertainty of whatever lies ahead, Eva steps into the unknown, into the Rebel lair…

***

Meanwhile, from afar, Daxan keeps a close eye on the building where a truck and two speederbikes brought Eva to. In total secrecy, against the agreement he made with Eva, Daxan never turned back. The call to remain as her backup became too much to bear for him as all he can now think of is her safety.

Daxan continues watching from afar, but from the whistles of the cold breeze, whispers of doubt tell in the corners of his mind to change plan. He knows Eva can hold out, but now, he starts doubting it. That lair must be crawling with Rebels. Is she really able to go through each and every Rebel until she gets to the Twi’lek? And if it really comes down to him as the backup, how is he going to fight them? Not alone, and certainly not with two.

Dank Ferrik. Should I contact Malstrom?

As the nightly hours pass by, the urge to call in reinforcement grows in the back of his mind until the thought becomes too strong to ignore any further. This operation is too big and too dangerous for him to handle alone. He should seek help.

Daxan flips the ignition and shrieks away. He rushes to a nearby comm station, parks his speeder at the side of the street, and runs into a booth with a pounding heart. He dials into Malmstrom Comm Station, his lungs racing as the line buzzes.

“Malmstrom Training Grounds,” says a male voice on the other end.

“Hi,” Daxan stammers. “Connect me to VSRC005--squad under command of second-in command officer Peyton. It’s urgent.”

“Understood. Please stand-by.” The voice disappears as a monotone hiss replaces it. 

Within moments, Peyton’s voice crackles through the speakers. “Hi, it’s Peyton. Who’s calling?”

“Hi, I’m Daxan-,”

“Who?” Peyton snaps. 

“The guy from the training,” Daxan responds. “I helped unjam Eva’s blaster.”

“I don’t remember-,”

“Anyway, doesn’t matter,” Daxan snaps. “I’m calling because of Eva. She’s in trouble and needs help.”

On the other end, Peyton seems to hesitate. “Why… Why does Eva’s business matter to you? Besides, I’m not in command anymore. I don’t get to decide if we’re going.”

“Look,” Daxan snaps. “Eva is going to exchange something important for her sister. Eline’s her name, right?”

Suddenly, the silence that Peyton leaves behind grows tense, only for her voice to confirm it to him. “That-, that’s her name indeed.”

“Yeah, well, she got kidnapped by Rebels,” Daxan responds. “She’s now at their lair with dozens and dozens of Rebels. I need help to save her and her sister.”

Peyton’s voice turns cold. “Send me the coordinates. We’re on our way…”

The line shuts off and Daxan lets out a sigh of discomfort brewing within him. Hopefully, he won’t be alone if it’s taking Eva too long to break out.

Aimlessly, Daxan wanders through the night, leaving his bike behind for a moment, deep in his thoughts. His boots splash in the puddles of dark rainwater scattering the tarmac. His eyes drift to the starfield above him. The first time he saw Eva, he had already heard of her. Whispers of the Rebel Scum Killer, a swift and ruthless machine, leapt from hallway to hallway, barrack to barrack, table to table. It was only when he saw her that Daxan knew Eva was more than that, but most importantly, that beneath the blood of Rebel agents, she was someone he could share his secret without being wished to die.

Now, Eva needs help, because now that she’s in the cave of the Iridonian sand panther, Daxan knows she can’t do it alone…

Chapter Text

Eva hits the concrete floor of the cell, her body aching as the impact forces the oxygen from her lungs. The heavy pounds of boots shiver the floor as two, cold hands grasp her arms and lift her from the floor. Her feet slide over the floor until she is thrown on a metal chair. Eva groans with pain, her head throbbing with a burning headache. Gasping, she blows a strand of hair from her face and glances with frantic eyes around. Eva notices she’s been put in a claustrophobic cubicle with bare walls, a single fluorescent overhead, and a metal table between her and the door, filled with dents and scrapes.

The light overhead burns in her eyes as Eva tries to keep herself sane. Calm. Calm. Calm. Even then, her nerves are scorching her alive, refusing to cool down. She glances down at her hands. Streaks of blood drip down from her wrists as her cuffs bite into her skin like Lurcas. It feels like a thousand shards piercing through her flesh, the pain rushing in at her in waves. Each wave makes her lungs shudder as she can barely hold back the tears. Okay. Deep breaths, Eva, deep breaths. I can take this.

Her eyes dart to the lone Rebel guard standing outside the cubicle. She’s come here to exchange the Artefact with the life of Eline. When will she get to see her? Why haven’t they brought her to her sister already? Do they need more from her? Eva can’t be sure.

Seemingly knowing she’s watching, the guard turns around for a brief moment, glancing at her. In his eyes, Eva notices something. She notices a subtle hint of fear flickering in the corner of his eyes, afraid of something. Can it be her? Is he afraid of her? No. It cannot be. Eva knows she’s done some real stuff against them, but did she really scare some Rebels off so much that she can see it in their eyes? That doesn’t add up. And he is not the only one with those eyes.

As she was pulled by her wrists through the ever stretching corridors of their hide-out, Eva slid past many Rebel soldiers and officers. What they all shared was the fear flickering in the corners of their eyes. They all had it, but it wasn’t because of her, because why would they? Why would they be scared of her?

Eva cannot think of any answer. However, she is certain that something, a spirit of doubt or a higher power, is keeping the Rebels on edge. There is something here.

However, that is the least of her concerns. Whatever is holding them afraid, Eva hopes to see Eline. Just her face, her sparkling eyes, a single, gentle word, is enough. 

Then, the electricity in the atmosphere shifts. A blizzard rushes into the room as Eva glances at the door and sees the shadow of a Twi’lek entering through the doorway. Her robes sway in an unexistent storm as the alien’s eyes are cold, the colours twisting into something dark. 

Though Eva can feel an unsettling sense in her stomach, it is overshadowed by the scorching temperature of her blood, starting to boil as she fills with silent rage. Her eyes narrow at the Twi’lek, a demonic hellspawn from the depths of fire that dared to take her sister from her. The lust for vengeance, a feeling long lost to time, rushes back like a tidal wave, unstoppable and merciless.

But through the rage, Eva knows she cannot let it overtake her. She is no longer a soldier in power but a prisoner whose fate is not in her control, but in that of demonic, kidnapping scum. 

The Twi’lek tilts her head, her eyes sharp. “So, we meet again, trooper.”

Eva keeps her mouth shut. The wounds in her wrist start aching more.

The Twi’lek inhales with seemingly unease. “I suppose we haven’t met each other appropriately,” and she extends her arm, reaching with an open, inviting hand to her. “Hi, I’m Kishtung Sorren, Padawan of Jedi Master Tilman of the Jedi Order.”

A hiss escapes from Eva’s mouth, her eyes as sharp as blades as she slowly leans forward with rage combusting inside of her. “You kidnapped my sister,” her voice cracks.

Kishtung drops her floating hand as her eyes cast downward with a hint of guilt flickering in her bright-pink eyes. “You may not believe me, but kidnapping your sister was not what I wanted. Unfortunately, it was the only way to get the Artefact back in this world of… complete authoritarian control, omniscient security.” The colour in her eyes twist with fear. “Believe me, I would’ve fought differently if the galaxy hadn’t changed so, so abruptly; if everything remained the same as the time of the Republic.”

Kishtung leans onto the table heavily, almost shivering from what Eva recognises as fear. Her eyes stare into oblivion, burning two gaps in the metal surface of the table as she seems deep in her thoughts. Then, her glance shimmers and Kishtung shakes her head. “Anyway, I appreciate your bravery and your effort. It’s-,”

“Bravery?” Eva spits. “You took her.”

Kishtung flinches slightly, but she straightens her back, seemingly regarding Eva with an unnerving calmness, trying to convince herself of her own righteousness. “I know I did. My reasoning being that I had no choice.”

“You took her!” Eva screams. She lunged forward, banging with her chest against the table. The jagged restraints dig deeper into her wrists as fresh blood splash on the floor. Her body shivers, barely holding in her fury as Eva’s eyes grow sharper than blades. A tear streaks down her chin. “We had a deal. The stone for her life. I kneeled. I sacrificed. But… I am still here--still your prisoner. What more do you want?”

Kishtung’s gaze flickers. She pulls back, stepping away from the table and seemingly embracing herself in her arms, tugging on the edges of her robe. Her eyes narrow slightly as she presses her lips tightly. “I know. I know I’ve crossed lines.”

“Lines?” Eva scoffs. “You took my sister. That’s more than lines.”

Kishtung remains silent, but Eva sees a flicker of pain in the corner of the alien’s pupils. Eva leans back, letting her wrists rest from the biting chains. Her chair squeaks with agony.

“You think this is something to say sorry for? To apologise for?” Eva breaks into a brief chuckle, recognising the foul blindness from Kishtung. “No word, no deed will ever make that right. A so-called Jedi, knight of the galaxy. You’re not. You’re a criminal, a monster! I want my sister back!”

“I know,” Kishtung whispers, trying to get between Eva’s words. “Stop it-”

“You’re no better than scum,” Eva growls, gasping as her lungs burn in flames. 

Kishtung drops her head, her eyes slowly growing sharper with unease flashing in her twisting, pink eyes, seemingly starting to get possessed by something darker. “Alright,” her voice turns hard. “That’s enough. I understand.”

“For what you’ve done,” Eva barks, “you deserve to burn like all the others of your kind!”

“Enough!” Kishtung lashes out and slams the metal table into the bare wall with invisible force. 

A crash erupts as Eva shudders with a combustion of panic. The table breaks into pieces as the light falls down from the ceiling and hangs from a single cable. Swaying around, the flickering light burns in her eyes, focused all on her as Kishtung is shrouded in the dark. Occasionally, the broken light flashes in the alien’s face. Her eyes glow like a furious spirit as Eva’s hands clench, her nerves electrified.

“You have no idea,” Kishtung snarls, “but I sacrificed myself to get hold of what you had, to complete the mission I was assigned to centuries ago with my masters now dead for years. You have no idea what the Artefact is.” Her voice grows louder and colder. “I know it’s inexcusable. It’s a horrible deed, but I did not come here for your forgiveness or anything else that comes out of your brainwashed mind.”

Eva gasps, her eyes slowly watering as the swinging light burning into her face turns blurry in the corner of her eye. “Then why am I still here?”

Kishtung crosses her arms. “You’re still here because I need information. You know the Empire from within, and I need data on internal security and planetary defense systems.”

You need… what?

Eva recoils at her demand, her heart hammering like artillery shells. “What?” She shrugs. “I know nothin about either of those.”

“I know you don’t,” Kishtung responds. “But we have you and so we can use you.”

Eva drops her head, her eyes casting down on the floor as the thought of betraying her Empire echoes through her mind. A hint of panic surges through her veins as she knows that, even if she shows a hint of Rebel collaboration, the Imperial Security Bureau would crack down on her. In the hands of the ISB, death would be a blessing, saving her from the most horrible things they are capable of. Torturing her every second she is breathing, every time her heart beats and pumps her ever diluting blood through her veins until she has nothing left. Her lifeless body in the confinement of an ISB facility under the waves of the ocean of some backwater, hidden world flashes before her eyes like lightning. Even if loyalty is not a thing, Eva would never dare.

With a pounding heart, Eva’s lips twist with fear and anger. “I’m no traitor,” she snarls. “I’d die. I’d kriffin’ die before I could ever see my sister. And even if I dared, even with your saber at my throat, I wouldn’t tell you anything.”

“You think?” Kishtung asks, almost taunting.

Eva scoffs. “Is that even a question?” 

But before she can say more, Eva feels an invisible claw catching her throat. Her gasps turn into agonising wheezes as her body is lifted into the air like a lifeless doll. Her lungs empty as her feet no longer touch the floor. Her legs kick against the metal chair and her last contact point with the ground crumbles away as there is nothing to push against but the thick, choking air. Eva tries reaching for her throat, trying to free the invisible hands that strangle her as her watery eyes dart to the glowing eyes of Kishtung, her hand lifted in the air, strangling her in the sky. The colour of her eyes twist like blood in water. 

“You think?” Kishtung repeats, her voice colder than ice.

Eva wheezes as her throat burns. She tastes the foul blood on her tongue, suffocating her as she forces an answer out of her throat. “Piece of shit,” she hisses.

Kishtung’s eyes narrow, the fingers of her hand closing as Eva feels the grip on her throat intensifying. Her legs kick in the air, trying to get her airways to open, but all she can breathe in is her own breath. The room blurs as the burning light turns into a vague haze bleeding into her vision. The Twi’lek turns into a shadow in the corner until she can barely hear the blast door sliding open, scraping over the floor.

“Ma’am,” says a male voice. “You are summoned by commander Girkin.”

In an instant, the invisible hands release her throat and Eva falls almost lifelessly on the floor, unable to soften her landing as she crashes into the hard floor. She erupts in a shriek as the pain ripples through her bones. Gasping heavily, her sight slowly returns as she twists around and her eyes focus on Kishtung in the corner of her vision. The darkness that possessed her eyes like an evil spirit has now disappeared, completely gone from her bright-pink pupils. No longer do they glow in the dark. Kishtung’s face is bathed in the gentle light coming through the open doorway. Her eyes linger on Eva with a hint of unease or even panic flickering in her pupils, until she turns away to the Rebel that is standing out of sight, in the doorway.

“I’m coming,” she responds, calm and devoid of any hostility. “Clean her up. Give her the best attention your medics and guards have to offer.”

“Will be done, ma’am,” and the Rebel walks into view. 

As Eva lies there, gasping for air, the world is still as blurry as before, twisting and spinning as tears roll over her cheeks. Her wrists throb with a burning wave of pain. She can feel the trickling blood leaking out of her wounds as drops of it streak over her hand and onto the cold floor. Sobbing, Eva curls up on the floor, reaching for her legs as the freezing atmosphere bites into her skin, until two hands pull her up from her wrists. Her legs slide over the floor, bumping over the doorstep as she leaves a thin trail of blood behind. 

As the corridors seem to twist quicker and quicker, Eva suddenly hits the concrete floor with a crash. She shrieks with pain, her voice echoing through wherever she is as the impact forces the oxygen from her lungs. She hears the sinister, taunting chuckles of two men as steel bars lock into place with a clang. The dragging has stopped. They have released her.

Mildly intrigued, Eva lets out a deep sigh of relief now that she’s let go of. As her lungs drown in the cold air, Eva pushes herself up and blows a strand of hair from her face. Her wrists continue to throb as her steel handcuffs are smudged in red stains. 

“Hey, kid.” Eva glances at the steel bars where one of the Rebel guards looks into her cell with a grin etched on his face, from ear to ear. “Leave the military to the adults. You should’ve stayed at school doing your tests. Some sucker should’ve pinned you to the wall to teach ya some lesson.”

Eva’s jaws clench. Rebel scum.

Her eyes narrow as her fists clench with anger, longing to pull the knife and slash their throats, but before the urge to say anything back overcomes her, she holds herself back. Especially after Kishtung’s battery, giving any response might make things infinitely worse.

Instead, Eva casts her eyes on the floor as the blood from her wrists makes small spots of red stains on the cold floor. She clenches her jaws as the pain in her wrists feels like knives cutting into her skin. She puts her hands on the wounds, trying to stop it.

With mocking voices, the Rebel guards walk away as one throws her backpack on the floor across the corridor, far out of her reach. Eva glances at her backpack, her thoughts drifting to the medicinal inhaler stashed inside. She hopes Eline is alright. She needs her inhaler as soon as possible. With a burning heart of worry, Eva crawls to the back of the small prison cell with shaking hands. She curls up, hiding herself in her arms as her thoughts spiral downward. Where would Eline be? Eva tries to form a plan, but her mind keeps spiralling out of control with fear and anxiety.

But then, a soft, familiar voice breaks through her inner chaos. “Eva?”

She spins around, her heart skipping a beat. Her eyes widen as a small figure in the cell next to hers, separated only by the steel bars, looks at her with blue eyes and long hair. 

“Eline!” Eva gasps and scrambles to the bars, reaching for her sister. 

Eline embraces her with her arms, her hands warm and her blue eyes sparkling with pure relief. Eva reaches for her head, tugging the soft strands of her hair as she kisses her on the forehead, her heart burning with happiness, wanting to squeeze Eline in her arms so badly. “You’re here,” Eva whispers, her voice breaking.

Eline glances at her with watery eyes, the tears splashing down. “I knew-, I knew you’d come.” Her small hands clasp Eva’s through the bars. “I knew you would.”

“I-, I’m so sorry I wasn’t there,” Eva whispers, a tear rolling over her cheek.

Eline nods with a shiver, choking back a sob as she holds the arms of Eva tightly. 

“Eva,” Eline stammers, but before she can continue, she erupts into coughing. Her lungs wheeze as her face turns red with agony. “I lost-, my inhaler when they got me,” she squeezes out of her tightening lungs. 

At last, Eline’s lungs squeeze out a final, agonising cough. Eva’s stomach turns as droplets of blood hit the concrete floor as Eline curls up with her arms squeezing her chest.

“Eline…” Eva stammers, gasping. “You’re coughing up blood.”

“I know,” Eline whispers, her head buried in her arms. Her voice is strained with agony as her grip on Eva’s hand tightens. 

To Eva’s horror, Eline’s conditions are worsening from little coughs a few days earlier, to coughing up blood from the depths of her lungs. Her skin even seems paler than before, bleaker than a Snowtrooper’s armour, and as Eline glances at her, her eyes seem red and drained of energy. Her faint gasps as she tries to breathe are shallow, striking Eva’s heart as it sinks deeper into her chest, intensifying her firm grip on Eline’s pale hand.

“Does it hurt?” Eva stammers, her voice cracking.

Eline nods, faintly. “A lot.”

Eva swallows hard, pressing harder against the steel bars. A sudden flood of guilt overcomes Eva’s senses, her lungs shuddering, realising she should have been there. She should have been there to protect Eline. But she wasn’t. She could not do what she promised to her. It breaks her heart to see where her absence has led to.

Eva wipes a tear away as it goes along her chin. She moves closer to Eline, pressing her head against the cold bars. “I-, I’m so sorry, so sorry.”

Eline shakes her head with uncertainty. “Sorry… for what?”

“Sorry for your… misery, your torture,” Eva stammers. “I should’ve been there for you.”

“You couldn’t,” Eline responds. “It’s not your mistake.”

“I promised you that I would always protect you. Anywhere,-”

“Anytime,” Eline snaps, “and it’s not bad that you couldn’t.”

Eva glances down at her feet, the grim floor staring back at her with uncertainty.

Eline shuffles closer to her, as close as she can. “Eva. You were gone so you could save the Empire. You haven’t yet, but you’re right on track, I guess.”

Eva chuckles. “Right on track, huh?” 

Eline smiles, even when her agony is trying to drag her down. 

Eva squeezes Eline’s pale hand tightly as her fingers tremble, watching her little sister struggling for each breath, almost choking on the wounds of her lungs. Her heart burns with pain, torn by Eline’s blue, sparkling eyes and the anguish at her horrifying condition. As Eline’s lungs erupt into heavy coughs, Eva’s finger draws to her sister’s lips and wipes the blood away.

They make eye contact, but neither can force out a word. Neither can speak. The bars draw long shadows on the cold floor, but all Eva sees is her sister--alive, but barely holding on, barely pushing through. Eva presses her head against the bars, her deep gasps echoing through the detention block as Eline slowly shifts closer, her head touching hers. Eline’s cold hands land on Eva’s. Tears escape Eline’s eyes, splashing on the concrete floor. Eva closes her eyes, feeling Eline’s warmth after so long.

As it feels like her heart is pounding in her throat, Eva glances at Eline, still locked in a tight headbump. “Eline, I will get you out of here. I will end this,” she stammers. “I won’t let you down this time.”

Eline’s hands tighten their grip as she glances at her with watery eyes. “You never did,” she murmurs. “You never did, sis’…”

***

Two fists slam on the table. The Artefact shivers as Kishtung glances up with confused eyes and sees commander Girkin leaning towards her with stern eyes. 

“We have to talk.” His voice echoes through the chamber, a storage hall repurposed into a strategy room. 

The fluorescent lights high above flicker faintly as Kishtung leans back against the backrest. Her hands meet on her lap, squeezing each other as she tilts her head. Why does he need to speak with her?  “Okay? Go on.”

“Kid, you have gone too far.” Girkin straightens. “You kidnapped a child from a camp without even notifying me. I have one question. What the hell were you thinking?”

Kishtung’s jaws tighten. “What I thought? It was the only way to get the Artefact back,” and she points at the stone lying on her table. “It was what we agreed upon. I help you. You help me.”

A heavy sigh escapes Girkin as he steps closer. “Kidnapping children is not what we do,” his voice is calm, for now, but Kishtung can hear it is ready to explode. “It is not what the Rebel Alliance stands for. We are the beacon, the light, the hope of the galaxy, of free thinkers, of futurists. We cannot abduct children and turn them into tools.”

Kishtung clenches her fists, her nails digging deep into her palms. “I know that I crossed a line. I know. I know it is morally wrong, but does it matter if it is not possible to do it right? That girl’s sister had the Artefact. I would’ve had to go through her, to kill her to get it back. That is the worst outcome for any of us. Eline has a tight bond with her sister. Would Eva die by my hands, so would Eline. She’s a means to an end to avoid suffering.”

“A means to an end?” Girkin steps back and shakes his head slowly. “What end? What is this goal you are working towards?”

Kishtung stands up with her nails digging further, knocking her chair back. “My master gave me a mission. I was chosen to bring back the Artefact to the Temple for containment and investigation. And I am 400 years overdue. I have to finish this.”

Girkin’s expression softens. “I understand that it is hard for you to believe, but the Order is gone, kid. The time of the Republic has long ended. Any remaining Jedi are scattered or dead. Agents of the Empire have been hunting them for over twenty years. No one is left to see you at the Temple, to see you finish your mission, to see you come home.”

Kishtung’s lungs falter as her fists tremble. “I don’t know what else to do. I fell into a world of darkness, of complete, oppressive control. This mission is my only grip on what is still left.”

“Grip?” Girkin crosses his arms as his eyes flicker with distress. “You call that grip? Or is it an obsession?”

“It is duty,” Kishtung snaps.

“Is it duty if it is driving you to do things you swore to never do? To weaponise the kidnapping of children in conflict? Is that how the Jedi solved crises, when there were times of desperate need?”

Kishtung stares at the floor as her heart races in her chest. It is hard to accept it, but Girkin has a point. The Jedi are peacekeepers solving problems with patience and wisdom, not force and fear. It is not the Jedi way. Her heart is struck with pain as she remembers who she is. Swallowing heavily, she shakes her head. “It is not.”

Girkin watches her, his gaze remaining locked on her as he inhales deeply. “Whatever you do is up to you. Your choice, if completing this old mission is what you want. But if you keep going down like this, you will be alone.” He reaches for his jacket and pulls something small from its pocket--a holocron, shining faintly as he puts it on the table. Its faint, blue light casts a soft glow over the worn metal surface. “Don’t be tempted by the darkness of this world.”

Kishtung’s eyes widen as she stares at the holocron, the faint glow burning through her retina. Her hands tremble as she reaches out. Her fingers hover above the shining cube as her fingers are unable to touch it. Then, her eyes dart to the Artefact. The stone draws a shadow over the metal surface as the holocron’s blue glow is reflected off of its sides. “But what if the Artefact can restore it?” she asks, her voice barely above a whisper. “What if the Artefact is the solution?”

Girkin steps back, giving her space. “I don’t know, but don’t let it pull you for your sake,” and he turns, walking towards the door. His footsteps echo through the chamber until the door slides shut behind him.

Kishtung is left alone in the dim light. The rain outside tickles on the skylight as she stares at the holocron. Its soft glow flickers like a dying star. She can hear its voices calling her, while the pull of something darker whispers louder.

Trembling, she does not know which one to follow, which whisper is what…

Chapter Text

Two guards inside, a shit ton outside. A distraction should get them to me. They open the door for some emergency, I take them by surprise, and we’re done. 

It’s been possibly two days.

Squeezing the steel bars, Eva gazes out of her jailblock and into the corridor, mapping out her rescue plan. Her eyes linger on movements of a Rebel guard seemingly doing some administrative work on his datapad as her nerves burn through the cold bars. Thoughts race through her mind with all the possible methods and outcomes screaming as loud as they can, and Eva tries to control them, but the urge to escape and make an end to that Jedi scum grows unbearable. Her hand squeezes the steel bar further as if it is Kishtung’s throat.

Getting that guard to come for her, open the door, and then getting him by surprise does not seem simple; it is easier said than done. And how is she going to distract that guard in the first place? Scream for an emergency? Tell them she’s hurt? Eva isn’t sure.

What she’s sure of, however, is getting Eline the medicine she needs. On the other side of the corridor, just barely out of reach, lies her backpack, slumped against the concrete wall. Eva drops herself to the ground and tries to grasp it once more. She bumps her shoulder against the bars as she stretches her arm as far as she can until her muscles burn as if they are tearing apart while in flames. Clenching her jaws, Eva twists with her fingers, trying to touch her bag, but falls inches short. Her heart burns with agony. The medicine, the gold, is lying straight ahead of her, shining into her face, right before her eyes, but barely out of reach forever. It feels gut-wrenching as if no star wants her to have the tiniest bits of luck. Eva drops the tension in her arm and drops it on the cold floor, gasping with frustration.

“Dank ferrik,” Eva sighs, her voice echoing twice through the prison cells. 

Her arm throbs from the straining pain as her body slumps against the cold floor, her head stuck between the bars and her eyes fixed on the ground. The hope nearly sinks into the abyss, but she clenches her fists, letting herself not drop into hopelessness.

She will get Eline and herself out of here, no matter what. All and everything for Eline’s life.

Eva’s tongue dries up as she’s gasping for the stale air. The ventilation unit hanging on the wall, low above the floor, is rumbling as if its insides have come loose. It has been making weird sounds for some time now, and its absence has left Eva and Eline with a stale, thick air to breathe. Even in the dark, she can see the dust particles swirling in the air. The air tastes foul on her tongue.

“Eva?” Eline’s voice is barely audible from the far back of the cell. It is a far cry from the joyful sister Eva has always known. “Are you okay?”

Eva swallows hard and forces herself to sit back up. Her eyes land on Eline’s dark face, her body slumped against the back wall in the block next to hers. “Yeah. I’m fine. Just… thinking.”

Eline lets out a faint, almost dead hum. “Trying again?”

“Yeah,” Eva responds. “Still out of reach, though.”

Eline remains silent. Curled up with her arms holding her knees close to herself, she peeks through the shadows with her blue eyes like two stars. “Stop trying,” she murmurs.

Eva recoils, her heart tightening at Eline’s emotionless voice, as if she’s lost all hope. As if escape is no longer possible. “What do you mean?” she asks.

Eline sighs, her frail voice breaking. “I mean, you’ve tried… tried… and tried…” and she drops her head onto her knees, her blue eyes vanishing and her long, blond hair falling over her face. “It’s not coming closer.”

Yeah, she’s really lost hope. The hopelessness in her voice strikes her burning heart as Eva crawls over the cold floor to the back, to Eline. She has to instill a hint of hope back in Eline. “It comes closer if you try hard enough.”

“The backpack won’t walk to you,” Eline’s voice cracks.

“I don’t mean that,” Eva responds, and she reaches out to Eline’s head, tugging her soft hair. “I mean that, pushing and pushing, not losing hope and remaining determined will get you out of here. It will. Where’s the hope?”

“Hope?” Eline glances up, drawing out the word, almost tasting the bitterness behind it. Her hair slides away from her face as she rests her cheek on her knees, revealing her blue eyes, now flickering like two dying stars gazing at her. “Isn’t that a Rebel thing to say?”

Eva remains quiet, staring at her sister as she retracts her hand. It is a bitter irony that cuts deep into her heart. Hope has always been the Alliance’s symbol for the willpower to fight Imperials like her. It is tied tightly to the Rebel effort to undermine and destroy the Empire. For a moment, Eva is unsure how to respond. But even if it is tied to the kind of scum she has sworn to destroy, Eva realises hope has never belonged to them alone. 

“Hope…” Eva sighs. “It’s… not theirs. It’s for people who fight to survive in hard situations. Us.”

Eline shakes her head faintly, dismissively. “Still sounds like a foul word.”

Eva presses her lips, nodding a little. “Okay. Let’s call it… wanting things to get better--believing that it gets better. Don’t you want to get things better, to escape this prison?”

Eline’s eyes shift to the floor with uncertainty, until she slowly nods. 

Eva smirks, her smile curling with disgust as she curls up, reaching for her legs. “I know. Me speaking about hope… It’s… gut punching.”

“Gut punching?” Eline murmurs.

Eva inhales deeply. “Gut punching to realise that… we’re not really all too different,” and she glances at Eline, making eye contact. “Rebels and us. Hope is their symbol.” She smirks softly. “Here we are… with hope.”

Eline’s eyes lock onto Eva’s for a long moment, as if searching for something in her pupils, until she gazes at the cold floor again. Her breath is shallow as she’s uncertain of how to respond.

Eva releases her legs as they drop on the cold floor, and sits up straight. “I’ve always had the thought, and I hate admitting it, but here we are,” and she glances around a little, her eyes drifting from the dark prison cells surrounding her. “Here, I believe we will get out of here. Even when a hundred Rebels face us, I am certain that we will escape.”

“Escape is not easy,” Eline murmurs. “What do we hope for, exactly? A bomb to drop onto us?”

“For a eureka moment,” Eva smiles.

“Yeah, right.” Eline lets out a frail chuckle, dropping her head onto her knees. For a moment, the colour of her skin returns on her face and her hands twist a little, returning with life. She glances up again with sparkling eyes. “How’s that coming along?”

Eva reaches out to her and holds her hand tightly. “I’m close. Just hang on for a little longer. Can you do that?”

Eline squeezes Eva’s hand weakly. “I’ll try,” she whispers.

Eva smiles. She reaches for Eline’s head and slowly pulls her towards her, pressing her lips on her forehead and giving her a kiss. She pulls back and rests her forehead gently against Eline’s. “Just have a little bit of faith in me. Just try, and I’ll do the rest.”

Eline clenches Eva’s hands, squeezing them with finally some warmth after so long.

Then, the blast door opens. Eva pulls back and they both gaze at a sudden flood of fierce light rushing into the prison block with the shadows of two figures being casted over the floor. Mumbling, they step into the corridor and Eva sees one guard armed with a blaster. The other one seems to be unarmed. Intrigued, Eva forces herself to sit straight.

“This is the AC unit?” one man asks.

“Yeah,” the guard responds. “It’s been broken for a day, I think.”

The man crouches down and drags Eva’s backpack away. Its content rattles as the man glances at the AC unit with a flashlight. Eva notices he seems to be carrying some sort of toolbox.

That man seems to be the mechanic, coming to repair the AC unit. Eva glances at Eline. Her sister’s eyes shimmer with a window of opportunity. Hope did its magic.

Eline gives her a slight nod, her eyes flashing with hope. Remaining silent, Eva glances back at the two men bantering around about the AC unit. This is the time to act. Her heart starts racing in her chest as Eva slowly crawls towards the front of her prison cell, towards the two Rebels. Her hands clasp the bars with a soft clang. The guard jolts around, clenching his blaster and aiming at her. Eva shudders for a moment, recoiling back.

“Hey, back off, kid.” The guard sways with his blaster a little, pointing at the back of her prison cell. “Hush hush.”

“No, no, it’s fine,” says the mechanic, glancing over his shoulder at him. He briefly turns around, glancing at Eva and making eye contact. Eva notices his soft, open eyes, seemingly devoid of any hostility. “Let her be.”

“You have no idea who that girl is,” the guard snarls, his blaster still aimed at her. “Kid, get moving!”

“Hey, if you want some fresh air in your office again, get comfy and let her watch,” the mechanic responds. “All I see is an imprisoned kid.”

The guard hesitates, glancing back and forth from the mechanic to her. His grip on the blaster remains tight, until he finally lowers it, slowly. “Fine,” he grumbles under his breath. “But girl, keep your distance. Don’t try anything funny.”

Eva swallows hard, giving him a slight nod.

After giving the mechanic a curt, but warning nod, the guard turns around and heads out of the prison block, closing the door behind him and leaving the two behind. The mechanic grasps a screwdriver from his toolbox and starts removing a panel from the broken unit. Eva glances into his toolbox and sees a few items. There are some spare parts and a pair of other screwdrivers differing in sizes. Her eyes lock onto them, her mind calculating. A screwdriver can be used as a weapon. Small, but enough to make a difference. One punch in the throat and this mechanic or any guard for that matter would bleed out in ten seconds or less. It is a stretch, but it seems to be in range. Carefully, Eva shuffles closer to his toolbox, ready to snatch the screwdriver away.

The mechanic turns around a little, glancing at Eva, his eyes soft and curious. “So, who’s my colleague here?” he asks, casually.

Eva freezes for a moment and meets his gaze “Colleague?” she stammers.

“Yeah, you,” he responds. 

Eva swallows hard. “I don’t… work with Rebels,” she murmurs, slowly. 

The mechanic lets out a soft, sudden chuckle. He shifts his focus back to the unit as he pulls off the panel, exposing webs of cables. His attention is elsewhere, and Eva glances back at his toolbox. It lies close, within reach if she moves quickly enough. Quietly, Eva shoves closer and extends her arm through the steel bars. She reaches for the toolbox. Her muscles burn as it lies barely within range. Her heart races in her chest. Images flash before her eyes, seeing her hand snatch the screwdriver, grasp his throat and punching a hole through his artery. His blood would flush out in an instant.

Then, the mechanic’s voice pulls her back to reality. “I never worked with Rebels as well, at first.”

Eva freezes. Her hand hovers near the toolbox, not yet in range to grasp it as the mechanic’s words echo in her mind. Her eyes dart to the man as her thoughts sway to what he has just said. “What?” she blurts out.

“Believe me or not, but I was with the Empire for some proud years,” he responds, his eyes fixated on the insides of the unit.

“You… You were an Imperial?” Eva blurts out. Her hand slowly twitches back. “You defected?”

The mechanic nods as he shines into the mechanical guts of the AC unit with his flashlight. “Yes, I did.”

Eva pulls her hand away from the toolbox entirely. Even if she is almost in range, Eva cannot get herself to do it. Not even when a possible way of escape lies in reach. The intrigue gets the better of her. She’s never met an Imperial defector before who joined the side of terrorists. This might be the only Rebel who may be at the same level as her, someone who may understand her, having seen the war on both sides. Why did he defect? Why did he join the Alliance? Would she be able to get some sympathy out of him to make her escape possible, to let her and her sister go? That last one might be unrealistic, Eva quickly realises, but the spark of hope persists.

Her fingers curl into a fist. “Why did you leave?”

He glances over his shoulder at her. “Couldn’t take it anymore.”

Eva clenches the steel bars. “Why?”

The man reaches for the smaller screwdriver in his toolbox. If she had taken it, he would have noticed it in an instant and would have been caught. “I was stationed at Camp Forward on Mimban during the Empire’s campaign there,” he replies. “I was a mechanic there, did repairs and kept things running smooth. Sometimes I was sent out to perform flash repairs on immobilised walkers.”

Eva’s heart peaks at the mention of Mimban. She heard about it on the vidscreen at home years ago when CH7 reported about the aftermath of the Mimban Campaign. Most of the flashy, thrilling action footage featured on Imperial Defense Daily came from the battlefields of that single, forsaken planet. She remembers when TIE Bombers struck their targets with perfect precision, AT-STs unleashed pure hellfire, and Mudjumpers hurtled through the smoking trenches to move the frontline forward by meters a day. They were and still are gloriously iconic pictures of the Imperial war machine and are often shown in conscription calls, promoting the bravery and the heroes of the Empire. They’ve become engraved on the minds of many who aspire to become one of them—brave heroes of the mighty Galactic Empire.

Eva cannot shake off the shining images of the videos flashing before her eyes. “Mimban?” she blurts out.

“Crazy, huh?” the mechanic replies, and he inhales sharply through his nose. The dust swirls in the rays of light emitted by his flashlight. “Lots of work, there. You don’t want to know how many artillery guns, water pumps, relays, and walkers I fixed there. One day, an artillery gun had its shaft blasted into pieces. I was dispatched to replace it at dawn with a window of an hour before they’d advance further. The frontline lied ten clicks away.” 

His voice shivers with a hint of fear, something Eva has only heard from those fearing their lives. She listens closely, silently as she feels her heart pounding like distant artillery shells. It feels as if she’s listening to one of the crazy, historic stories of Mr Dane in class.

“When I arrived there and started working with a team, we were taken under fire by the Mimbanese Liberation Army.” His voice shivers slightly, but he manages to maintain steady as he glances over his shoulder at her. “It was hell. Every second, a shell rained down from above to strike us.”

Eva meets his gaze. The explosions of shrieking artillery shells raining down from the skies flash in his steady, but scared eyes. Her hands squeeze the bars with intrigue growing.

“We wanted to retreat, but command ordered us to stay and do our job,” and he lets out a sigh, glancing back at the open AC unit. He takes a spare part from his toolbox and inserts it in. “Most of the team I was with died by the rainfire.” He stops as he screws on the spare part inside, slightly rattling. However, it leaves Eva wanting to know more.

“And then?” she asks.

“I came back and reported it to my superiors,” he continues, putting back his screwdriver. “I thought maybe--just maybe, someone would care enough to look into and fire the bloody fierfek that ordered us to stay. Let me remind you that I lost almost all of my colleagues because of that faulty order. Well, you know what, the Empire did nothing. No inquiry, no apology. Not even an acknowledgement that my team ever existed. They just moved on. Me and my team were the broken wheel to be replaced.”

He lets out a sharp sigh with a hint of rage shivering in his voice as he shakes his head. “That’s when I knew we did not matter. We were expendable, ready to be thrown in the meat grinder—Mimban was the meat grinder.”

Eva’s lungs tightens at his words as she glances down at the floor with slight unease. She imagines the fire raining over her, desperately trying to take cover, only to discover she is chained to her position by her superiors. However, she wonders whether the superiors could do anything about it. Maybe they just had wrong information? It could have been a simple mistake.

She swallows hard. “Maybe they just made a mistake,” she says, very slowly, drawing out each word. 

“Mistakes?” The man erupts in a soft laughter. “No chance, and if they did, they are still scumbags for not admitting it. Look, it happened to me. I was quickly replaced by others. The same can happen to you.”

Eva’s eyes dart to him and slowly shakes her head. He may have been shoved aside, but she doubts it can happen to her. She’s a cadet part of a program that seems to be of high importance to the point that even High Command seems to be highly interested in its performance. Surely they wouldn’t disregard soldiers of a program that seems to be so prestigious. Would the Army really shove her aside as a discarded object? And even if she wasn’t a special kind of soldier but a petty private, she cannot believe the Army would still do it. Privates and ensigns still form the backbone of the Army. 

Sure, sometimes there are hard decisions to be made—sacrifices and massive losses, but is there any other option if that is the one they choose? Resources are not infinite. They do not replenish by themselves.

“I don’t believe you,” Eva stammers. “Anyone’s too important for the Empire. They wouldn’t do that to me.”

The mechanic shrugs. “Up to you, kid. I’m not gonna tell you what to do. I’m not your father, but let it be a reminder, a whisper of the danger.”

Eva swallows and her eyes slowly drift down, uncertain of how to reply.

A long screw rolls over the floor, past his foot. Eva’s eyes draw to it as it rolls closer and stops in the middle of the corridor. She glances at the mechanic as his hands pry into the AC unit. He does not seem to have noticed it. Thoughts flash through her mind. That long screw can work as much as a weapon as the screwdriver, and even better, it is easily in range. Should she take it? Eva hesitates as her hands reach through the bars. Her hand twitches closer, but remains hovering above the sharp screw. 

She may not be replaceable, but she knows the Imperial hierarchy can be ruthless. Orders with great risks, battles of high deathrates, strategies with only a quarter of the information… irregular, but real occurrences. Eva recognises she may very well become the victim--again. She remembers that when she did her first raid on a Rebel hide-out in the heart of the Capital, there was no to little information about the armament the Rebel insurgents possessed. A few blasters or bombs with the power of decimating the entire building--nothing was known. With incomplete intel, she ventured through the corridors until a Rebel decided to bomb himself to bring her, Peyton and the corridor down along with him. The incomplete information almost got her and her friend killed in action. The work of an Imperial soldier is risky. 

The mechanic’s story may not be too far off. Now, remembering the errors of her superiors in the past, Eva realises his story holds some ground. However, even with his soft, caring voice and his past service at the Empire, Eva remains doubtful, but she keeps his story in mind, letting it warn her when it gets real.

Her thoughts are interrupted by shuffling feet behind the closed blast door. Her eyes dart to the door and sees the Rebel guard is coming back. As the door starts hissing, Eva’s hand quickly grasps the screw and pulls back her arm in an instant. The blast door slides into the wall and the Rebel guard walks in, his hands tightly wrapped around the grips of his A280.

“You done yet?” he asks.

The mechanic glances at him as he grasps the weathered plate from the floor to put it back on the AC unit. “Almost done,” he responds. “Just finishing up.”

Eva firmly squeezes the sharp screw in her hand and tucks it into her sleeve. Her heart pounds in her throat as she slowly backs away. The mechanic screws the panel back on the AC unit. He flips the switch and it starts whirring.

“Job’s done,” he says, and puts his screwdriver back in his toolbox, ready to leave. “You’ll be getting your fresh oxygen in no time.”

He wipes his hands on a rag, and as he stands up, glances back at Eva one last time. He gives her a small, curt nod and heads towards the door. The guard steps aside, letting him pass, but his eyes remain on Eva, sharply keeping an eye on her. Eva hides her racing lungs, trying to gasp as silently as possible as her hand still grips the screw in her sleeve. Her fingers twitch as the guard heads to the door and closes it behind him. 

Eva lets out a shaky breath and her eyes drift away into the darkness. The adrenaline slowly fades away and releases the screw from her fingers. She lets it drop into her fingers, fiddling around her tips as its sharp edges roll over her skin. At last, she has gotten a weapon. It feels like she finally has a bit of control over the environment around her. 

Eva crawls to the back of the prison cell and leans her back against the cold, hard wall. Eline crawls closer to her, her arms clasping the steel bars as her sparkling eyes gaze at her.

“Eva,” she whispers. “Why didn’t you do it?”

Eva glances at her, clenching the weapon in her hand. “What?”

“Kill him,” Eline responds.

Eva shrugs. “I don’t know,” she sighs.

Doubt flickers through her mind as she wonders whether she should have used it on the mechanic. She could have taken his arm, clasp his throat, and stabbed the screw into the artery in his throat. Or, she could have taken him hostage, demanding from the Rebel guard to open or else his colleague’s blood would flood the floor. Dropping her head with uncertainty, Eva is not sure why she did not act. Perhaps because this man did not deserve it. For some reason, something stopped her from doing anything bad to that man, even if he was a Rebel. And the fact that there is even a reason for her not to kill a Rebel makes fear run through her nerves.

What if the ISB finds out? What if Rebel sympathy has truly infected her? Eva’s heart cracks with fear, unsure of whether she should start forcing herself to be the ruthless, Rebel-scum killer she has always been, but she knows it is exhausting. 

However, Eva can’t let herself fall. She has to keep believing that the path will open up. The one thing that matters and she should focus on is getting Eline to safety and getting her the meds she so desperately needs. As she clenches the sharp screw in her hand, Eva starts forming a plan…

***

Suddenly, it all makes sense. Everything clicks together seamlessly. Kishtung recoils with shock and opens her eyes, stepping out of her meditation as the Artefact lies beyond her feet on the cold floor. Its whispers slowly dissipate into the air as her heart starts pounding in her chest.

Kishtung may have found its intention. The Artefact has its secret laid bare right in front of her eyes. Her short gasps echo through the chamber and into the cold night through the skylights. A shiver runs down her spine as her gaze locks onto the Artefact. Its faded whispers swirl in the back of her mind as she realises that this object is a source of power.

And it can change everything.

Kishtung straightens up with excitement. If this thing can do what she believes it can do, it might restore everything. It can defeat the Darkside that has corrupted and infected everything in the galaxy like a ferocious disease. Whatever the Artefact holds, it may cure everything. However, Kishtung regains her composure. Even when her nerves burn with excitement, she is not certain about its true power and use. She has to activate it and test it. It is the only thing Kishtung can do to confirm the Artefact’s true purpose, to finally reveal its biggest secrets.

Kishtung stands up, almost shivering by the sheer revelation. She pushes her robes aside and grasps the comlink from her waist.

“Commander Girkin, I have good news,” says Kishtung. “I think I know what the Artefact’s true purpose is.”

The old man’s voice crackles through the speakers. “Good news indeed. This conquest may finally end.”

A snarl of cynicism erupts from the other end, pulling a string in her stomach wrongly.

“I think it is a source of knowledge,” Kishtung responds, disregarding his tone, “but I am not certain. I want to test out my theory by activating it. I want an assembly in the main chamber with all of your regiment commanders.”

Girkin lets out a faint sigh. “Of course. Within 10 minutes, you will have everyone there.”

Kishtung nods. “Thank you.”

Before she signs off, her mind drifts to Eva, the girl now stuck in the prison block with her younger sister. Kishtung recognises that all of this was not possible if Eva had not given up the Artefact to her. Without her, nothing would have been possible, and Kishtung would have been at step one. All the time she was frozen in carbonite, Eva kept the Artefact intact. Her effort, even if she is Kishtung’s enemy, was priceless. She deserves to witness the Artefact’s power with her own eyes.

Kishtung clenches the comlink and moves it closer to her chin. “And… bring the Imperial girl in. I want to congratulate her for her effort.”

“Will be arranged,” Girkin responds, and quickly signs off.

Lowering her comlink, Kishtung’s eyes draw to the Artefact. Even when its whispers have died, she can still feel it pulling at the edges of her mind, trying to draw her in with its tempting secrets.

But perhaps it is not the light calling her…

***

With sweaty hands, Eva pokes the sharp screw into the lock of her prison door, hoping to pry it open. Her fingers tremble with anxiety as she listens carefully for each metallic click and clack erupting from the door lock. Eva has never lockpicked before and she hopes that luck will give her a chance to free Eline and herself. However, each click she hears is drowned by the pounds of her heart, beating like gunfire in the far distance, echoing through her ears.

“Is it working?” Eline murmurs, her frail voice echoing through the prison block. 

Eva does not respond as her attention is tightly concentrated on the movement of her fingers, fiddling and twisting the screw in the keyhole. 

Then, she hears faint footsteps. Eva’s fingers freeze as her eyes dart to the blast door. The pounds on the concrete floor grow louder . Dank Ferrik. Someone’s coming.

The hydraulics of the blast door hiss. In a heartbeat, Eva pulls the screw back out of the keyhole, clenches it in her hand and stumbles away, nearly tripping over her feet with burning nerves. The door slides open and two figures appear, walking into the prison block. Their eyes are sharp as they stop before her jail and glance at her with focused eyes, looking for anything out of the ordinary.

Eva freezes in place as her silent gasps echo faintly through the bars. Her nerves burn with panic. They didn’t see her trying to lockpick the door, right? If they did, she might risk being beaten up with an electrobaton, breaking each and all of her bones or at least pulling a strand of hair from her head. As Eva firmly squeezes the sharp weapon in her sleeve, her eyes drift to the hand movement of the foremost guard. In the dark, he seems to take something out of his pocket and inserts it in the lock. Shit. They may have truly seen her.

Her nerves explode as Eva stumbles back, her gasps growing shallow as the door opens with squeaking hinges. She almost drops the sharp knife from her sleeve as the Rebel guards step into her prison block. Eva trips over her feet and drops on the hard floor. They look at her with stern eyes, looking at a misbehaving hound that needs several kicks in the ass with a shovel. However, the guards seem unwilling to punish her as their blasters are low. 

“Alright kid,” says one, loudly. “You got lucky.”

Uncertain, Eva remains on the floor, gazing in silence while her heart pounds like distant explosions.

“You’ve been given first row seating. Now, come on,” and the guard sways with his blaster towards the open door.

Eva’s jaws clench. They want her to follow them. Why? Where are they going? What does he mean by first row seating? A shiver runs down her spine. For some reason, punishment through torture scares her less than the reason she has to follow them. For what do they need her? Information? Brainwashing? Execution? Freedom? Any scenario is now possible. An infinite possibilities of outcomes now lay bare in front of her, and she has no idea which one she’s forced to pick.

The guard lets out a sigh of impatience. “Do I really have to do this myself?” and he pounds towards her, grasps her arm by the wrist and yanks her up from the floor.

Eva stumbles forward as her body shivers with fear. 

“Get walking,” and the guard pounds his blaster into her back.

Eva shrieks and explodes forward, almost bumping into the steel door and stumbles out. The other Rebel guard looks at her until he turns around and heads to the doorway. The thought of escaping now or using her hidden weapon to kill them both flashes through her mind, but her instincts stop her quickly. Eva can kill one guard, but then there would still be one left with an open shot. No chance she is able to eliminate them both. All she can do is follow their commands and do as they please. Eva knows she is not at an advantage whatsoever. Any action can lead to her demise. If these Rebels have no problem with abducting her sister, they would have no problem killing her either.

With scorching nerves, Eva is left with no other option than to follow the guards. Before she steps out, Eva glances one last time over her shoulder. Her eyes meet the worried gaze of Eline, looking out of her solitary confinement with her pale, frail hands wrapped around the steel bars. Her heart burns as Eva is forced to leave her sister, but Eline gives her a slight nod. Everything will be okay. Eline seems to be sure of it, and so must Eva. 

Following the two guards, Eva is led through a dazzling system of corridors where every Rebel present watches her with eyes of despise. She does not dare making eye contact as she follows the guards into a large chamber. A cold atmosphere crashes into her face, making her shiver as finally, Eva dares looking up. 

Rebel soldiers are scrambled all around, forming a grand, half-a-circle around a slab of stone lying on the floor. It is the Artefact. What is it doing on the ground, and why does it feel like these Rebels seem to worship it like some holy grail?

The guard behind her shoves Eva forward. She stumbles towards the center with pounding footsteps and freezes with bone-chilling fear as, directly in front of her, Kishtung stands by the Artefact. The Twi’lek’s pink face is illuminated by the faint glow of the Holocron in her hand. The colour of her eyes twist into hurricanes as the glow is reflected in her dark pupils.

Eva is frozen to the floor as Kishtung glances at her and gives her a nod. “Eva, I am happy that you are here.” Her alien eyes draw to her handcuffs. She unveils her hand from her white-brown robes and gently twists with her hand. “You won’t need those.”

Eva hears a click from her handcuffs and the grip loosens on her wrists. It slowly slides off and clatters on the ground. Slowly with disbelief, she clasps her wrists as the handcuffs have left pale marks on her skin. Her heart leaps in her chest for a moment, relieved that her wrists can finally breathe, but it still feels like she is chained. Even if her hands are free, she herself is not.

Twisting her hands slightly, Eva remains silent as she glances with unease at the Twi’lek.

“Whether you know it or not, you were instrumental in securing the Artefact,” says Kishtung as her arms vanish behind her back. “I thank you for your cooperation sincerely.”

Thank you for your cooperation? As Eva silently stares at her, her eyes grow sharper than blades. Her mind burns with the pale face of Eline and the blood she coughs straight out of her lungs. The thought of her sister, abducted from the dark of the night, from her bed, as a bargaining tool, tightens her throat with rage. The nail in her sleeve heats up with anger as the thought of slashing her throat instantly starts screaming at her.

Kishtung inhales sharply through her nose. Without any fear in her alien eyes, she slowly steps towards her. Her footsteps pound on the hard floor, shivering through the ground. “Eva, I wanted you here to witness the power of the Artefact.”

Eva’s fists clench tightly. “Why?” her voice breaks, barely hiding the flames burning within her.

“Because you deserve to see it,” Kishtung replies. She stops inches before her, staring down at her with open and soft, yet menacing eyes as her cold breath blows into Eva’s face. Her robes sway in an insensible storm. “You’re intelligent, Eva, and the love and care for your sister is unbreakable. You fight hard to protect her and I respect that more than anything. I can see very well that you are steadfast, determined to reach a goal. You hold your missions dearly. I do so as well, and I’d feel hurt if I would not be able to see the outcome of all my struggles.”

Slowly, Kishtung tugs Eva’s arm with her cold, pink fingers. They run over her skin, hardly able to cool her burning nerves as Eva’s eyes narrow further. She wants to twitch back, shout at her and insult all of the alien’s grandmothers with every disease imaginable. But she bites her lips. Any response can swing back to punch her in the face. As her nails dig deep into her palms, Eva barely manages.

“You deserve to witness the secrets that were barely out of your reach,” Kishtung responds. “It may never put us on the same terms, but at least you will leave us knowing everything you’ve done or lost wasn’t in vain. Besides, you freed me from that ship in the woods.”

The creaking corridors of the derelict ship, flooded in darkness, flashes before her eyes like lightning. Rainwater had washed away the soil that covered it the night before. Eva still hears her footsteps echoing into the vast darkness until Ecklund’s voice echoes in her ears, screaming she’s found a survivor, frozen in carbonite. Little did she know, a heroic act--saving a lost survivor--changed the path before her drastically. She should’ve left her there. She should’ve left her there to rot, to never be found.

With sorrow shimmering in her eyes, Kishtung gazes down for a brief moment, until she regains eyecontact with Eva. Her voice turns soft. “You know… even if we stand on opposite sides of the river, I will never take away the pebbles you throw in the water. I will never feel ungrateful for what you did. Thank you for saving me.”

Eva bites her lips. Her pulse races faster with every second of being in Kishtung’s dark presence. Her mind flashes with thoughts. Never will this alien ever be on the same terms as her. Never will any apologise make up for the kidnapping of her sister, taken from her bed at midnight. Thoughts flash through her mind as she can already taste Twi’lek blood in her mouth. Quick, swift, final, but Eva closes her eyes for a moment, trying everything to stop herself. She knows she can’t let herself go loose like a hungry Lurca. With so many Rebels around, Eva won’t stand a single chance to do anything against Kishtung.

Kishtung’s eyes stare into Eva’s burning soul until she shifts her attention back to the Artefact. “Now… let’s unveil the Artefact’s true power.”

Kishtung turns away from Eva as her nerves boil her alive. The Twi’lek acts and talks as if her mission is for a noble cause when Eline’s lungs are at the brink of collapse. Her sister is suffering hard for a flat piece of stone. The question why burns in her mind.

Eva’s eyes flicker to the Holocron in Kishtung’s hands, pulsating a little with a faint, blue glow like a beating heart. Gasping to cool her lungs with frigid air, Eva swallows hard. “You know what its intention is?”

Kishtung draws closer to the Artefact and raises her hand above it with the Holocron upside down. “I do not. All I have are suspicions.”

Eva shudders. If she doesn’t know what she is about to unleash, should Kishtung even open it at all? This cannot be safe, can it? What if it is some kind of weapon if she has to believe the Artefact’s mythical status? It may destroy them all!

Eva snickers. “So you don’t know what it does-, what it can do?” she growls.

With sharp, determined eyes, Kishtung stares at the Artefact lying just beyond her feet. “I feel what it can do. I can feel its power rippling through time. I believe it can unlock the secrets to destroying the Darkside of the Force that has corrupted this galaxy while I was gone. I’ve missed 400 years of life. I might be able to cleanse this forsaken zombified world, and reboot the Light and restore it as it once was.” She glances briefly at Eva as the dark and the light swirls in her eyes. “Let’s start, shall we?”

Eva’s stomach churns with fear as she remains silent except for her frantic gasps of air. She watches from a distance as Kishtung closes her eyes and whispers words that fade away before Eva can’t understand what she is praying. Her hand still holds the Holocron tightly as its glow starts to pulse. Its light flickers like a dying star until it bursts with energy, shining as bright as six supernovae. It burns through her eyes and Eva stumbles back, looking away and hiding her face in her hands, trying to shield her from the sharp light. Through her fingers, she sees the silhouette of Kishtung releasing the shining Holocron from her hand and stepping away, continuing to stare at it with admiration.

Then, the radiation burst vanishes and everything is left in darkness. Eva lowers her hands and sees the Holocron is hovering above the Artefact. It is drained of the life it previously possessed as a ray of light swirls down like a chaotic twister. Eva is unable to move, unable to think as the oxygen is sucked out of the air. Waves of pressure push through the air, rattling the concrete walls and trembling the floor beneath her feet.

The lightray from the Holocron connects with the Artefact and it lifts up from the floor. The stone joins the hovering cube in the dark sky. Eva’s jaw drops on the floor with dread shivering her bones, stumbling back, while the Rebels around her close in on the surreal scene with astonishment and awe.

The dead Holocron and the living Artefact hover parallel to each other in the air, floating in a calm, gentle storm. The Artefact hums through the chamber as if the gates to heaven have opened up before her, ready to collapse into the burning underworld. 

For the first time, Eva feels something else. A primal sense of dread, as if the Artefact is not just an old relic, but a living entity, a ghost of the past, just waking up after centuries of slumber. Eva can feel through her nerves that it is hungry, longing for something. 

Kishtung lets out a sudden gasp as her shoulders drop. “The answers… it’s here.”

Eva’s heart aches with pain as she glances at the Twi’lek. “Answers?” her voice shivers. “Are you sure it is not the gates to heaven, a portal to wildspace?”

Kishtung smirks, unable to take her eyes off of the hovering Artefact. “Eyes can be deceiving.”

Eva scoffs. “Are you sure this is not dangerous? What if it explodes or something?”

Kishtung slowly shakes her head, dismissing her fears silently. Eva takes another step back, fearing that it will burst open with more power than any supernova ever has. Even if the star illuminating from the Artefact is calm and gentle, Eva feels like it is anything but. There is something it is hiding. Perhaps it is the storm raging inside, the flames, or death. 

As Kishtung’s body forms a silhouette in the sharp light, she slowly reaches out to the Artefact. Her arm is steady and fearless. She bows before the stone, and raises again. “Holy spirits of the past, I am delighted by your presence.”

As Eva watches, it seems like the orb flickers a little as a response. And then, she hears them. From the most distant corners of her mind, Eva hears faint, very faint whispers. Her heart stops as she hears them. She glances around with terror in her eyes, trying to deduct where the voices come from, but they seem to originate from everywhere and nowhere, all at once. She tries to comprehend the words, but they sound like slithers and hisses as if they intend on being secretive to her ears. 

However, the voices are not what strikes her the most. Her eyes draw to the Rebel commanders and officers all around her. Hypnotised by the magic, the Rebels have their eyes glued to the Artefact. Its light is reflected in all of their eyes as if they have all been taken over by a single mind--that of the spirit residing in the Artefact. They show no acknowledgement or any response to her actions, even if she is slowly backing away as if she’s going to escape. They all seem to have forgotten her as they are too taken away by the awe.

Her eyes drift to the shuddering floor, her mind storming with thoughts as her hand twitches to the sharp nail hidden in her sleeve. Everyone is hypnotised by the light, while Kishtung’s attention is all focused on the Artefact. Eva realises she might have a chance now. Her jaws clench and no longer are her nerves ruled by fear and dread, but by rage, too. The spirit residing in the Artefact seems to be more worthy to the Rebel Alliance than her very own sister. They kidnapped her for this. Eva’s eyes narrow as she longs for justice to be served. The words Kishtung has said before echo in her mind: You deserve to see the secrets . Her nails dig deeper into her palms, leaving spots of blood. She doesn't deserve to see anything. She deserves to have justice served.

The voices grow louder.

Then, Kishtung pulls her out of Eva’s chaotic thoughts. “I know you can hear them too,” she murmurs.

Eva glances back at her, her heart pounding so quick it can no longer keep up. “What? The voices?”

Kishtung softly hums. “It takes a special connection to hear what it is saying. Its verses, its melody… it’s all from this Artefact.”

Eva’s blood boils in her veins, scorching her from the inside. It takes a special connection to understand it; is Kishtung complimenting herself? Praising herself while she kidnapped her sister? Or is Kishtung talking about her? Does she mean that Eva has a special connection with it?  

Eva’s stomach turns with disgust. “I don’t kriffin’ care,” she growls. “I want my sister back.”

Kishtung nods slightly. “I understand. Let’s continue quickly, then,” and she reaches out to the Artefact again. “Holy spirit, I am calling on your wisdom with sincerity. This galaxy has been corrupted by the Darkside. I want to know how to destroy it. Please, light the way forward.”

The orb emitted by the Artefact flashes as the voices grow louder, but still inaudible to Eva’s ears. Her eyes draw to Kishtung and she seems to be listening carefully and thoughtfully to the voices around her. She knows the entity is speaking to her.

“Forest moon…” Kishtung murmurs, softly. “Forest moon of Endor... Vaulent 6…”

Kishtung’s words fall on deaf ears as Eva’s chest tightens with rage. Every muscle in her body tense as her fingers grasp the sharp nail hidden up her sleeve. The voices grow louder with each pound of her heart, until all she can hear is the thought of killing her. No Rebel is watching. One strike and it’s all over. Her fingers tighten around the head of the nail, the cold steel pressing against her palm.

As her eyes focus on Kishtung, the Twi’lek steps back slightly, twitched by something with an unusual sense of caution. The atmosphere shifts to danger as Eva takes a step forward, while Kishtung takes one step back. The weapon slides out of her sleeve, squeezed in her hand. Kishtung takes another step back, seemingly terrorised by something as if the Artefact revealed the most horrible secret known to the galaxy. But all Eva can see is scum. The Twi’lek deserves nothing but death for what she’s done to Eline--taking her and leaving her without her life-saving medicines. What she’s done to her sister is torture. 

The Artefact’s orb of light shifts firey red and intensifies, blinding every Rebel in the chamber with pain except for her. Her eyes narrow sharper than blades. The air crackles with energy as Eva’s free hand fires forward, ready to punch the nail into Kishtung’s throat, to see the sparkling blood gushing out of her veins.

But before she can strike, a final blast of light punches her out of her rage. Her eyes dart to a blinding explosion, bursting from the Artefact, and her rage evaporates, replaced by overwhelming fear. Her lungs stall with dread and her striking hand lowers as the Artefact unleashes its true power. 

Kishtung jolts around, her white robes erupting in flames as her hand snaps towards Eva. A wave of air punches her in her chest, sending her flying out of the chamber. Eva shrieks with panic until her back slams into the cold, hard floor, the impact knocking the oxygen from her lungs. Gasping, Eva watches as the Rebels around her scream with pain, seeking cover as some erupt in flames. 

The Artefact pulses violently as its light twists into an inferno, unleashing its raw power onto the vicinity. Glowing sludge of molten metal drips from the ceiling as the heat in the chamber escalates. Before her, in the radiant glow, the silhouette of Kishtung is standing fiercely amidst the fire as a glow of blue surrounds her like a forceshield. 

Eva shivers as the heat sears through her uniform. She is unable to comprehend what is happening until one word screams in her mind: escape. She has to get herself to safety now! Staying here any longer and she’s vaporised into dust.

Eva forces herself to move as she crawls across the floor, her eyes darting around in search for cover. Her limbs shake as her heart thunders in her chest. She enters a corridor, heading away from the collapsing star ready to burst behind her. Ceiling plates clatter on the floor. The walls collapse onto her path, obstructing the corridor.

Eva stumbles back and dodges falling chunks of concrete, pounding on the shattering floor. “Dank Ferrik!” she screams.

With dripping sweat, Eva’s eyes dart around, looking for another way while behind her, she hears the blood-curdling screams of burning men. Going back is no longer an option. Panicking, her eyes draw to the door of a small security cubicle. She has to hide, now!

Eva stumbles towards it, trips over her feet and smashes onto the floor with her chest, crawling into the room with pain erupting from her stomach. She finds a desk on which the computer screens shiver like an earthquake. She slams the door behind her, and with a final burst of strength, Eva throws herself below the desk. Shaking, she curls up, hiding her face in her hands. She slams her back into the wall, trying to shield herself from the heat, but even the concrete starts to crumble under the immense energy. Eva hides in her arms as the floor shivers. Please, let this be over with. Let this be over with. Let this be over with!

A sudden blastwave shakes through the room. Everything falls down as the roaring explosion nearly deafens her. The walls crumble, threatening to tear apart as Eva squeezes herself in her arms, sobbing with fear.

And as quickly as it has shocked the world, it disappears quickly. The scorching heat dies down, and the roar of the explosion fades into silence. Everything seems to calm down.  All that is left is the breeze whistling through the cracks of the ceiling and the walls. 

With her arms curled around her knees, her tears drop on the cracked floor as Eva gasps frantically for air. The sweat pours down her face as her body trembles with fear and agony. Can she open her eyes? She is not certain. Is she gonna see the world in flames? Everything flattened? Eva fears the destruction she will open her eyes to, but she knows she has to look.

Shaking, Eva opens her eyes to vague lines. Her vision blurs until her eyes finally adjust, and through the smoke and dust, Eva sees the entire ceiling has collapsed onto the floor and the desk above her. The breeze blows through gaps in the concrete wall as misformed, steel bars stick out. The air feels cold.

Is it over? Can she come out? Eva isn’t sure, and she remains still below the desk a little longer, keeping herself together.

What happened? What did the Artefact do? What will she find outside? The questions rising in her mind terrorise her. 

The silence continues as if it is a walk in the forest. It seems to be safe. With a pounding heart, Eva slowly uncurls herself from below the desk and crawls out. She moves slowly out of the debris, avoiding contact with anything. The blast the Artefact unleashed may have put the entire building on the brink of collapse. Any shift in weight, caused by her or anyone else, might cause everything to come down onto her. 

Eva opens the door and slowly peeks out from the security cubicle. Her pupils grow as she stares through the dust and into the chamber. The explosion has left it completely unrecognisable. The walls are covered in scorch marks, steel pillars holding the ceiling up have melted away, and any sign of life--Rebels and even the Twi’lek herself, are gone. As if a thermonuclear bomb had detonated, everything is destroyed. At ground zero, the Artefact still hovers in the air, humming with energy as it's glowing like molten steel. Its whispers shriek like the angels of despair grinning at what they’ve brought upon the world.

The Holocron hovering above is scorched with black marks like claws of a monster digging its nails deep into the steel, until both slowly descend to the floor and land with a bang. Eva twitches forward but hesitates. She knows she has to retrieve the Artefact, but if it holds this amount of unstable power, is it even safe to touch it? Her bones shiver with the thought of even coming near it.

Embracing herself in her arms, Eva gazes around, trying to find any trace of Kishtung, but she is gone. Perhaps she’s been evaporated by the blast, but she has a feeling in the back of her mind that she escaped this, too. 

Then, as the blood manages to run to her brains, all thoughts stop but one: Eline. She has to find her and free her. She’s free with the Rebels possibly eliminated or disjointed into chaos. No one is now stopping her from escaping with Eline.

Eva starts running out of the chamber, jumping over debris that’s scattered everywhere across the floor. Behind her, she hears the faint voices of Rebels rushing in, alarmed by the sudden blast. She rushes through the corridors, following the path the guards took her through. At last, she reaches the prison block, opens the door, and rushes inside. However, debris is blocking most of her path. A support beam has fallen down, barely balancing on the deformed, steel bars of an empty prison cell. The explosion must have triggered a mini earthquake.

“Eline!” Eva shouts, her voice echoing through the chamber.

Then, through the darkness, she hears a frail cry for help.

Dank Ferrik .

Eva steps over the debris on the floor and crawls below the collapsed support beam, until she finds Eline, clasping the steel bars of her prison cell. Her face is covered in pale dust as the panic is etched on her face.

“Eva, what happened?” she shouts, frantically and gasping heavily.

Eva drops to the floor and embraces Eline in her arms, tightly. “Too much to explain, but I have to get you out of here.”

Eva releases Eline from her arms and stands up, glancing around as she tries to find any possible way of freeing her sister from her claustrophobic confinement. Eva tries the door, hoping for its lock to malfunction as it seems to have been battered by falling debris. She slams the button. It sparks, but the door doesn’t open. Panting, Eva reaches for the door's steel bars and tries to pull it open with all of her power. Her muscles ache, barely holding it together, but the door gives no sign of motion. 

Everything is collapsed and destroyed, and yet she is still unable to free her sister? No kriffing way is she going to let that stop her.

Eva’s hands latch onto the bars, hoping for it to come loose, but as she starts pulling onto them, the ceiling above her cracks with danger, threatening to collapse. Eva realises that more movement, even further away from ground zero, may still collapse everything. If she would continue like this, she would engulf Eline and herself in debris, leaving no chance of survival or rescue from their Rebel captors. Her lungs race quicker. Eva shakes her head, trying to dismiss and ignore the danger, but she knows deep from within that the danger is far too big. 

Clenching her fists, Eva clasps her head, her eyes watering with panic as she drops to the ground, cursing under her breath. “Dank Ferrik!” she shouts. “Any kriffin’ movement can make everything collapse.”

Eline shuffles closer, her hands making soft thuds as they clasp the bars. “What?”

Eva glances at her with tears rolling over her cheeks, the shards of her heart burning in flames. “I can’t get you out,” she stammers, swallowing hard but her throat tightens. She crawls to Eline, clasping the bars so tightly her knuckles turn pale. “Everything is going to collapse if I try.”

Eline’s eyes flash with panic, almost unable to speak as she tumbles over her words with a shivering voice. Eline starts shaking as she realises escape is no longer possible. “What-, what about-, the inhaler?” she stammers.

The inhaler . 

Eva put it in her backpack across the corridor from her prison cell. She jolts around, but her eyes land on a piece of her backpack, buried in dust and debris. Eva hurries towards it, grasps the piece that is sticking out and tries to pull the backpack out of the debris. Her muscles nearly tear apart as she puts her foot on the cracked wall, trying so hard to free it. The piece she is holding onto tears apart and Eva stumbles onto her back. Her heart sinks in her chest as her eyes land on her backpack, still anchored by the heavy debris. Eline’s medicine is in there, but now, buried and possibly destroyed. 

The walls stretch into infinity and the ground drops below her into the abyss as Eva’s hands start shivering. The very thing that keeps Eline’s lungs alive is gone. It’s always been barely out of reach, waiting for Eva to grasp, but now, once she’s gotten the window to do so, the Artefact stabs its blade deep into her spine. The pain spreads all over her body quicker than a wildfire. Everything has slipped away. The plan to kill the Twi’lek and free her sister has failed.

“Eline…” Eva gasps, nearly unable to speak. “It’s-, gone.”

Eline clasps the metal bars with frail hands, trying to get as close to Eva as a tear streaks down her chin. “Eva.” 

As her lungs shudder with sobs she tries to suppress, she slowly turns herself to Eline. Her sister’s skin grows paler than snow. 

“I-, I won’t be able to escape, am I?” her voice shivers.

Shivering, Eva shakes her head. “I’m sorry,” she breaks. 

Eline remains silent, her eyes casting down with sorrow etched in her eyes. Her tears splash on the concrete floor and vanish in the deep cracks. “Dank Ferrik,” she whispers.

Eva leans closer, her eyes burning with agony. Her body trembles as if the weight of the galaxy is crushing her chest. “I’m so sorry that I can’t free you no more,” her voice cracks, the tears streaming down her cheeks. “I gave them what they wanted. I got nothing back.”

“Eva,” Eline stammers. Her lips tremble and a tear streaks down her cheek. “You have to leave me.”

“What? No!” Eva snaps. “I can’t. I won’t. I just found you.”

Eline shakes her head vehemently. “You have to. You can free me another time, not when they get you again.”

“But-, look what they’ve done to you,” Eva stammers, her heart breaking in agony. She extends her arm through the bars and holds Eline’s hand tightly. “I don’t want to leave you.”

“Don’t worry about me,” Eline responds, her voice too calm amidst the chaos. “I mean, I’ve gotten this far,” and for a brief moment, a short chuckle and a small smile appears on her face. Eline squeezes Eva’s hand with warmth. “I can hold out longer. I can do it.”

Eva’s eyes linger to Eline’s hand, frail but strong in power. Eline may be her sister, but Eva realises she is far more resilient than she seems. Even when pale and frail, power remains. For a brief moment, it makes Eva think of herself, beaten and battered but still enduring. Eline can and will endure. Eva can trust her on this. 

Eva’s eyes slowly drift to Eline’s face. She presses her head against the bars as Eline shifts closer, and their heads gently touch each other. Eline’s frail but firm hand is still entwined with hers. The quiet strength flashes in Eline’s eyes.

“I’ll come back for you,” Eva whispers.

Eline swallows hard. “I know.”

With a heavy, reluctant breath, Eva lets go and glances at Eline for a final time until she pulls herself to her feet. As her heart tears itself apart in flames, Eva steps away from Eline and crawls below the collapsed support beams and makes her way to the exit. The blast door is crooked as Eva squeezes herself through the gap and slips into the corridor. 

With a final glance at the prison block, Eva wipes the tears from her cheeks. Her eyes burn with guilt. It still feels wrong to leave her sister, but she steels herself and clenches her fists, determined to make it out alive. She has to escape while she can to return to save her another day.

Eva starts running through the corridors as she tries to remember the way out. The path the Rebels took her when she first arrived here was a lengthy one. Eva tries to dig deep in her memories, but her mind draws a blank as she continues running. Well, hopefully, any direction is going to take her outside.

Eva then spots a green sign hanging on the wall as she runs past it, pointing at the emergency exit. It is dead ahead. As long as she follows that, she will definitely make it out of the Rebel lair.

Eva enters a small chamber, but then, two Rebels run into sight. Eva clenches her fist and before they can react, she pounds her fist into one’s face, sending him staggering back with a groan of pain

The second Rebel draws his blaster. Eva snatches his wrist and slams her elbow into his arm. A violent crack erupts and he screams in agony. Eva punches him in the head, hearing his skull break below her knuckles. 

Then, two arms catch her and throw her onto the floor. Eva crashes onto the ground with her back with a shriek as the other Rebel pins her down. The blood streaks down his hardened face as he looms over her. Eva’s hands twist around the Rebel’s wrists, trying to free her. The Rebel releases one hand, raises his fist, and lands a sharp punch across her cheek. The pain explodes in her head and Eva shrieks, her head snapping to the side. The lights blur into circles as he raises his fist once again and one, final punch strikes her face. Her head splits apart and her vision fades to black. Her heartbeat echoes from the distance like artillery fire as she loses grip and her hands drop on the floor with a thud. The tears streak over her cheeks as the fiery pain in her face burns through her nerves. The metallic taste of thick blood fills her mouth and trickles from her split lip. 

“Dank Ferrik,” Eva whispers, and she moves her arms, trying to get up, before a heavy boot lands on her chest and forces her against the floor.

“Don’t move, kid.” The vague silhouette of a Rebel soldier looms over her like a shadowy chimaera.

She hears a scoff laced with venom. “Can we even call her a kid? I mean, look at her. She’s acting like some unhinged monster on Kessel Spice. What the hell are they feeding them?” 

Their words echo through her ears as the pain in her cheeks throbs with each, agonising heartbeat. Her vision swims as she clenches her fists, trying to scramble her energy, trying to fight back the sharp pain in her skull. Her nails dig deep into her palm as she knows she cannot let herself lose. Not here. Not now.

“She's one of those experiments, right?” One of the Rebels looms over her, grasping her chin and moving her face around, inspecting her with eyes that burn on her skin. “They’ve probably brainwashed her, emptied her mind.”

She clenches her jaws, her breath shrieking through her teeth like hisses. Keep your dirty fingers off of me, scum.

“What’d you say?” His grip tightens on her chin and forces her to stare at her as if inspecting a trophy. Her eyes sharpen as he turns to his companion with a chuckle. “She’s still got some fight left in her.”

The other Rebel, a vague silhouette in the corner of her vision, nods faintly as his hand is tightly wrapped around his arm. His gasps echo faintly. “Let’s tie her up, then.”

The other releases her chin viciously with a smirk on his face. His hands grasp her shoulder and legs, rolling her over onto her stomach. With the cold floor now in her face, Eva tries to move her arms, trying to break free, but the Rebel’s body weighs onto her, forcing her against the floor. Dank Ferrik. What should I do? Kriff. Think, think. I could make a sudden move, destabilise him, break his neck, and… no, the other one would shoot me right here. Damn it. DAMN IT.

But then, a faint rumble shakes through the floor. Eva can barely feel it in her stomach. She notices the dust on the floor, and it’s trembling too. Her pupils grow. Something is coming, and the vibrations are growing stronger.

“The hell’s that?” barks one of them. 

The fluorescent lights overhead flicker, casting the floor in sporadic bursts of light. The vibrations rattle her skull as Eva’s eyes dart around. The hell’s going on?

Then, a deafening explosion of steel erupts from beyond her vision. The floor shakes like an earthquake as the world around her collapses. The weight of the Rebel instantly lifts from her body, their shouts echoing through the chaos as Eva’s hands race to her head, shielding herself as shards of debris rain down around her. 

And as quickly as it has happened, the chaos calms down. Metal bits rattle on the floor and shards of glass tingle like dropped knives. With a pounding heart, Eva slowly moves her hands to the floor and pushes herself onto her back. A gust of dust crashes into her face as Eva, clogging her throat. Her eyes dart around, searching for the two Rebels, but they are gone, possibly swallowed by the debris that crashed down on them. Through the smoke, Eva catches something - the silhouette of something large that crashed through the wall. And then, the blurry shadow of a person appears, rushing towards her. The silhouette breaks through the dust, and Eva’s heart leaps. It’s Daxan.

“Daxan!” Eva gasps, the blood streaking down her cheek.

Of all people, it’s Daxan who comes to save her. She told him to stay away to not put the mission in jeopardy. Though he broke his promise, a sharp, relieved smile forms on her face as Daxan drops to his feet.

“Eva,” he gasps. “Oh am I happy to see you still alive.”

His hands reach for her face and wipes away the streaks of blood from her cheeks. His hands feel warm and a shiver ripples through her skin. 

“Let’s get going,” and his hands race for her shoulders and force her up and onto her feet.

Eva staggers through the smoke with Daxan holding her up, his arms wrapped tightly below her armpit, carrying her further. A large shadow comes closer, and through the smoke, Eva notices it’s the side of a large bulldozer, it’s engine rumbling like a beast as Eva scrambles up to the cabin on top. Holding onto the driver’s seat, Daxan sits down and grasps the steering wheel firmly. “Hang on, tight.”

With a pounding heart, she holds tightly onto Daxan’s seat as he reverses back the way he came through.

They burst out into the open air as the night sky stretches above them. The cold breeze blows through her hair as most of her long strands fall over her eyes. Eva takes a deep gasp as the cold air rushes into her lungs, the first time in two days of confinement. For a moment, her nerves calm down with peace as the stars above shine at her, flickering with relief.

Her eyes drift to him as his seat wobbles him around, the engine roaring below them. “Daxan.”

He glances over his shoulder and they make brief eye contact, a lingering gaze.

“Thanks,” Eva smiles. “For showing up.”

Daxan gives her a nod with a faint smile on his face.

Suddenly, an explosion tears the sky apart. Eva shudders as a wave of air strikes her, nearly knocking her off the vehicle. A fierce light burns through her eyes until a cloud of smoke rises in the air. The debris of a building fly into the sky. What the hell was that?

Behind her, Eva suddenly hears another, roaring engine. She glances over her shoulder and there, in the darkness, she spots a Rebel crawler looming. Its barrel is swiveling towards her as its light pierce through the void.

“Dank Ferrik, they’ve got a crawler!” Eva gasps.

Eva can barely believe her eyes as her gaze lingers on the crawler. Rebels rarely have heavy armament filling its ground forces. They barely even have an invasion force. How the hell do they even have a crawler? It should be impossible. Yet, she’s looking straight at it. How is it possible?

Her thoughts are interrupted as the crawler’s canon locks onto her. It’s going to fire, and they are sitting Mynocks, unaware of the approaching Rancor.

“Daxan,” Eva shouts, “get off, now!”

Daxan’s eyes dart to her. “Why?”

“Don’t ask,” and Eva jumps off.

Daxan follows quickly and stumbles away as they run. Then, another blastwave shakes the ground, bringing Eva to her knees as an orange hue floods everything. Daxan pulls her up from the ground as Eva’s eyes drift to the burning wreckage of the bulldozer. Its cabin is blasted off and its engine is spewing fire high into the sky.

Daxan pulls onto her arm, trying to get her to move. “E’chuta,” he stammers with a shiver in his voice. “Come on, Eva, we have to move!”

At last, Eva forces herself to run and follows Daxan into a dark alley. 

“Where’s your speeder?” she asks.

“Close,” Daxan gasps. 

As they round the edge of a building, Eva spots Daxan’s speederbike as they sprint towards it. It is half-hidden behind several supply crates as Daxan jumps onto the driver’s seat and Eva climbs on behind him. With a racing heart, Eva holds tightly onto the bike as he revs the engine and fires off. They shriek through the alley, out into the open, and speed towards the gates of the perimeter. If they cross the border, they will enter Imperial territory, but as long as they’re still inside, the Rebel crawler can get them anytime.

Eva glances over her shoulder and sees the roaring crawler smashing down the light poles as it tries to catch up. Its engine howls like a monster from the fiery depths of the abyss, but before it can fire, they cross the border. The gates flash past her as the crawler slows down and comes to a screeching halt. 

With a leaping heart, Eva lets out a sigh of relief as her nerves calm down. Resting her head against Daxan’s back, she is deep in her thoughts. Eline last, but resilient words echo in her ears. She will free her no matter what, even if a crawler stands in between. Her sister is still trapped in Rebel hands, and until her rescue, Eva won’t stop.

However, Eva recognises she won’t be able to do it herself. She needs reinforcement. She will have to call in her squad.

“Hey, Eva,” says Daxan, softly, his eyes remaining on the road ahead of him. “I’m glad you’re okay. How are you?”

Eva swallows. “Fine.”

Daxan remains silent for a brief moment. “Sorry for asking, but now what?”

Eva’s fists clench with determination. “We’re gonna find another way to save her. I haven’t lost yet.”

Chapter Text

As the damp fumes swirl skyward from the sewer vents in the tarmac, Eva’s eyes slowly drift to her cold, trembling hands. Her palms are mostly pale except for burning red spots - itching blisters and burn wounds, left behind from the Artefact’s blastwave. Its rage has left its marks all over her. Her muscles tremble and shiver, unable to hold breath as it feels like she is constantly out of air. 

Dank Ferrik. I have to calm myself down.

Eva tilts her head up and gazes into the starfield above her, twinkling in the void. Slowly, the heat radiates out of her body, vanishing into the dark expanse before cooling off. A cold breeze of air blows over her skin and Eva closes her eyes with bliss. The cold air rushes into her burning lungs, flooding her veins with cold blood. Eva slowly opens her eyes as her heart slows down with peace. Everything feels calm.

Then, Eva shudders with a heart attack to a thundering roar in the sky. Her eyes dart to a light bolt in the darkness, piercing and thundering through the sky. For a moment, the Artefact’s blastwave shimmers before her eyes. The buildings creak under the energy as an object with more power than a thousand stars is at the brink of bursting open. Eva shakes as the walls light up and the windows rattle as the light bolt thunders over her until it passes. The thunder decreases into the familiar sound of roaring ion engines; a TIE, presumably rounding up its surveillance sortie, heading back to base; or responding to the blastwave.

Eva’s eyes track the TIE until it vanishes behind the tall buildings, leaving her with burning nerves. Like a gust of wind crashing into her, all of her peace was taken away in an instant, burned away in the blastwave. Even if Eva tries to forget the Artefact, the Artefact won’t try to forget her. It has its claws deep in her nerves, unable to release her. Shivering, Eva gazes down at her feet with fear running through her veins. Will the Artefact remain to haunt her? Will it release her once all of this is over? 

The Artefact’s doomsday power, capable of erasing Vaulent Capital off the map, is too terrifying. She fears it might be a fraction of its total power. When fully mastered, it might flatten entire districts. Such a small piece of unworthy looking stone hiding so, so much power… now, the Rebels have it, and she is sure that they will undoubtedly use it for their own cause. Eva embraces herself in her arms, trying to find some comfort as she imagines buildings falling over like cardboard while a blazing fireball rises into the dark sky. Flaming debris falls down like stars, crashing into the soil, too scorched to ever grow a tree on. Just the thought of it sends a chill racing down her spine.

She’ll have to find out what the Rebels will attack next. A Rebel attack can now no longer be without Kishtung and her weapon of destruction. She has pretty much linked herself to the Rebel cause. Once she finds out where they will strike next, Eva can find her and stop Kishtung before she can use it.

She sees Daxan shuffling towards her. The smoke swirls from his cigarette as he takes a drag and blows it into the night sky. He inhales sharply. “I’ve had contact with your squad. They’re on their way.”

Eva takes a deep gasp, trying to hide her jumping nerves from him before she glances at him. “I hope they’re on time.”

Daxan gives her a curt nod. “They will.”

She makes brief eyecontact with Daxan before glancing away, hoping he hasn’t caught the faint tremors in her hands. That distant, thunderous blast from the Artefact, destroying everything in its path with flames, still echoes in her ears. Eva clenches her hands, trying to forget all of it. However, she starts feeling the burning sensation of Daxan studying her with keen eyes.

“Are you alright?” he asks.

Eva gazes down, closing her eyes, realising he has been watching her the whole time. He’s noticed her fear. He seems to understand her eyes better than most.

With uncertainty, Eva makes brief eyecontact and sees the concern etched on his face until she glances away, shaking her head a little. “I’m fine. Just… processing things.”

Daxan inhales deeply through his nose. He shuffles closer, leaning against his bike as well, standing next to her. “Processing things is easier when done together, so… if you need to talk, you know where to find me.”

Eva remains silent, shaking her head. “I’m fine,” she whispers. 

I don’t need you, Eva thinks, clenching her jaws with defiance. If she’s going to tell him or anyone her true fears—the nightmares, the blast—how will she be seen? As a child peeing in her pants, shivering from fear, or the ruthless soldier, bound by nothing but burning men? Her fellow cadets on the battlefield and at the Academy, chuckling behind their backs, the officers in the corridors looking down at her, her squad members unable to trust her. She might never reach the first step of the military’s rank if fear controls her from within, if nightmares rule. 

Eva squeezes herself in her arms with her eyes closed, trying to reach out to her inner fury that once ruled her. No nightmare could stop her while she charged through walls and doors of Rebel outposts. Eva. Eva, where are you?

Suddenly, she hears the growling engine of a heavy vehicle approaching. Eva opens her eyes to a fierce light entering the tarmac until they morph into two headlights of an ITT. Her lungs race. The squad is here. Eva takes some deep gasps, trying to calm down her racing heart. She steels herself, steadying her nerves.

The door of the ITT flies open and Ashara and Peyton step out first. A short smile forms on Eva’s face as she makes eye contact with the two, happy to see them again. Ashara crashes into her, embracing her in her arms and squeezing Eva tightly like a teddy bear.

“ Ana’tari seka ,” Ashara murmurs. “What were you thinking?”

Eva’s air is almost pushed out of her lungs by Ashara’s embrace as she gasps with relief striking her heart, pressing her head against hers. “Couldn’t sit still,” Eva whispers.

“Of course you couldn’t,” Ashara chuckles, and finally releases her with worry fading away in her yellow eyes. “Didn’t think differently of you.”

Eva smiles as she pulls away from Ashara’s embrace, glancing at her friend’s hopeful, familiar face. Ashara’s eyes then drift to the swollen blisters on Eva’s palms and her blue hands immediately draw to them with a worried gasp escaping her.

“Skorvit, you got messed up,” Ashara remarks, and she glances at her. “What did they do to you?”

Eva tilts her head and presses her lips into a thin line. “I’ll tell in no time.”

Ashara presses her lips and releases Eva’s wounded hands. “Well, I’ll get you patched up anyway. Your hands will shine like a new Scout walker rolling out of Corellia.”

Eva smirks, smiling as her attention drifts to Peyton standing next to her. Her head is slightly tilted and her arms are crossed firmly. Eva glances at her and her face seems soft but encased in a hard, tough shell as her eyecontact is fierce. Peyton doesn’t seem very happy to see her again. Eva recognises that Peyton might have grown a distaste of her common AWOL practices, and understandably so. A rogue soldier in a squad might be a headache for any commander, but so is facing the consequences of inaction. Hopefully, Peyton sees sitting back is more destructive than she thinks, but she may feel more assured of her own assumptions. 

They give each other a firm hand and embrace each other. As Eva holds her arms around her, Peyton’s heart bumps into her chest, and then, the girl’s grip around Eva grows firm. 

“Glad to see you’re still in one piece,” whispers Peyton softly, and releases her, glancing at her with relief shimmering in her eyes. However, her eyes drift downward with an expression hard to read. 

Eva gives Ecklund a short handshake, firmer than firm. Eva’s eyes draw to the black hand gloves Ecklund is wearing as the plastoid grips on her fingers poke in her skin. The girl gives her a quiet nod, remaining silent but assured firm like an anchor. The stars reflecting off of the girl’s round glasses shimmer with trust.

A moment of silence dominates until Eva sighs with a smile. “Good to see you too, Ecklund.”

Ecklund smiles as her cheeks start glowing red. “Sorry, it’s good to see you.”

Eva chuckles. Her eyes draw back to Ecklund’s hands. “New hand gloves?”

Ecklund nods. “They give me more grip.”

Eva hums “So it makes you an even better sharpshooter, huh?”

Ecklund smiles as her eyes drift away until regaining eye contact. “Yeah. Thanks.”

Then, Eva’s eyes draw to a figure towering over her in the corner of her eye, casting a faint shadow across the ground. Eva’s eyes meets its gaze and to her surprise, she realises it is Roslin. Eva’s eyes linger on her as relief strikes her heart with warmth. 

“Roslin…” says Eva, softly. “You’re back.”

Roslin gives a slight smile, gazing down briefly. “Didn’t expect to see me on my feet again so soon?”

Eva shakes her head. “No… Honestly, I hadn’t thought of you for a long time. It’s been quite hectic. It’s good to see you back.”

Roslin nods. “Yeah, I’ve heard you’ve been into something, though I heard it from… shall we say, someone’s who’s not all too happy about it.”

Eva’s smile vanishes from her face as she slowly peers over her shoulder at Peyton. They make eyecontact and Peyton’s eyes seem filled with defiance. Her lips are tightly pressed together into a thin line. She is indeed not all too happy to be here. 

Peyton clenches her jaws. “Let me remind you that we are here without official clearance.”

With slight frustration, Eva’s jaws clench. This might become an uncomfortable confrontation with Peyton she is not looking forward to. Their perspectives are most probably going to crash into each other with full speed; Peyton might not want to fight Rebel insurgency without official clearance from any of their superiors. She knows that all of this is off the Imperial radar; Command would not have given them any clearance to fight Rebels at the last minute. Even if they did, Eva’s role might have gotten stuck to Imperial orders and protocols while a doomsday device is in the hands of a Twi’lek, supernatural wizard. 

She can’t stand aside and watch it all happen.

Peyton might have wished to do things by the book, something Eva has realised does not always respond well enough to tackle crises, like the one now.

Casting her eyes downward, Eva glances away from Peyton and back at Roslin with a heavy weight pulling onto her lungs. A faint sigh escapes her. “I get it…”

Roslin shifts from foot to foot. “Your friend called us because you need help. Make your case, why? What did you find?”

Eva straightens. Her lungs tighten as she recalls everything she’s seen. “I followed traces of the Twi’lek to a big Rebel group here on Vaulent 6, active as we speak,” and she continues telling her squad about the Starbird group, its plans to do something , and the Artefact’s destructive power, enough to erase all of a district off the map like it is child’s play.

With every detail escaping hastily from her mouth, Eva feels the tension of discomfort rising like electricity around her. Roslin’s face turns from stern to invisible fear boiling within her.

“This weapon can erase whole districts,” Eva stammers. “We have to stop them.”

Behind her, Peyton lets out a scoff. “We? You say that after you dropped us into this?”

Digging her nails deep in her palms, Eva turns around and glances at Peyton with the discomfort brewing in her chest. The girl’s stern eyes burn through the cold air between them. Is Peyton aggravated by her? Why does she seem so upset?

“What’s up with you?” Eva asks, softly.

Peyton recoils. “You put us into this, why should it come down on us? Why is it us ?” and she steps forward, her boots pounding on the tarmac. “Why don’t you see this? You’re more of a solo-player, yet you decide to pull in others at the last moment.”

“You gave me permission to leave and to call in for help whenever I need it,” Eva growls. “Are you forgetting your own orders?”

Peyton shakes her head, her eyes burning intensively. “I came here to get your ass out of shit which I’d gladly do, don’t get me wrong, but I didn’t come here to stop a weapon of mass destruction in the hands of an alien wizard the Army failed to kill. We went after that alien before, and guess whose idea that was, huh? We bottled that hard. I didn’t wake up for this. I didn’t have that in mind when I let you go.”

“But… You can’t change terms, you agreed to them!”

Peyton shrugs. “I didn’t change them. They were always there. We were both just blind to them.”

Why does it matter if they’re here unwillingly if a literal eraser is in the hands of a Rebel group, ready to strike whenever possible? If such a threat is at play, feelings should not be in the way of dissolving it. Before Eva can respond, however, Roslin steps in between.

“Peyton,” Roslin snaps. “Stand down.”

With fierce eyes, Peyton shifts her eyes over Eva’s shoulder to Roslin. She presses her lips into a thin line and glances at Eva for a brief moment, seemingly unwilling to let this matter - her feelings - go. Then, Peyton steps back as she drops her head. In her eyes, something shimmers. Eva cannot place it. Perhaps a sliver of frustration, angered that Eva is willing to take such risks; a hint of doubt, uncertain of whether this threat can be tackled at all; or a flicker of regret, recognising she may have gone too far with bursting her feelings all onto Eva at once. Whatever it is, Peyton seems to cool down, on the outside at least. It leaves Eva with mild intrigue. She’s never seen Peyton this aggravated. Perhaps only when she rose to the ranks of Lieutenant Commander, but it strikes a string in her heart. Eva’s eyes draw to the ground as a sudden pain in her heart stings her feelings. The streetlights of the parking lot flicker. Peyt, are we still friends?

It seems far away. All Eva can see in Peyton is duty, a person swallowed by a Lieutenant Commander.

Eva follows Roslin away from the others to speak privately. Eva glances over her shoulder as she walks away, and her eyes land on Peyton. She’s looking at her until something else catches Peyton’s attention, and glances away, breaking off her eye contact. It’s really bothering her.

Eva follows her commander into the dim yellow hue of a streetlight. Roslin stops and crosses her arms tightly. She turns around slowly as her mind seems elsewhere, pondering. Her eyes are fixed on the ground. 

“You know…” Roslin starts, making eye contact, “Peyton isn’t wrong, though. It isn’t our job to handle this. It shouldn’t be.”

“Why not?” Eva asks.

“Well, we’re not a special forces team.” Roslin shakes her head . “We are not cleared to get involved in this. If Command knows what we’re up to, and we bottle whatever our plan is to capture that Twi’lek…” She trails off, her eyes drifting away, but her meaning is clear.

Eva lets out an uncomfortable sigh, her eyes drifting away, too. “I know. Suspension.”

Roslin smirks with discomfort. “Maybe worse.”

“Yeah…” Eva sighs, “but trust me, it won’t.”

Roslin shakes her head, the doubt reflected in her eyes. “You seem to have instincts that I don’t because I don’t think it is a good idea. We went after that Twi’lek before - which was your idea too, by the way, and we bottled that hard. Two of us barely made it out. I don’t think it is our job, our mission to capture her again if we have failed our previous attempt. It’s clear it’s not an enemy we can take - or want to take.”

“Commander,” Eva snaps. “We had zero knowledge on who and what that Twi’lek was. I know, running after her through the woods was a mistake. I couldn’t control myself. We had no chance of stopping her. But now, I know more about her than anyone else does. I know even more so than the military. I am the backdoor. I know she’s a Jedi, some ages old, the supposed knight of the light , willing to do anything to keep the Artefact from any foe. I know its destructive power. I’ve seen it blasting away the facility I was held prisoner at, and I am sure it is capable of doing more.”

“Even so,” Roslin snaps, “it is still not our task. As cadets, we have orders to stand-by at Malstrom Base.”

Eva clenches her fists, her nails digging into her palms. “Well, kriff the orders,” she barks. “I can’t stand doing nothing while I have the information we need to catch that Twi’lek and stop that weapon from destroying more.”

“I’m sorry,” Roslin responds, “but you can just brief the Army or the ISB about it and they’ll do the rest. Eva, why is this so important to you? What’s the drive?”

Eva hesitates, glancing down as she calculates her answer. “Because I can’t sleep knowing there’s a literal world destroyer at my doorstep,” her voice breaks. “If I’d tell them, they’d put me on a bench and let me watch it all happen on the vidscreens. Kriff that. That ain’t right. I can’t sit and watch everything unfold when I have the key. And… They have my sister.” At last, she swallows hard, trying not to let her emotions make her burst into tears. “She needs us… And I have to do something!”

“I get it because of your sister, but hold on for a second,” Roslin snaps. “You gotta be real here with me, because I can hear the emotions coming out of you as clear as hell. Tell me, are the emotions speaking or your head?”

Eva shakes her head, her voice firm now. “I’m talking with both. Emotions push me, but my instincts make the decisions. I know we don’t have orders, but if we don’t do something, if we don’t go against our orders, then imagine what would happen if the Rebels are lost to us.” She releases a tense sigh. The nerves make her shiver as she swallows hard. “I know that my sister’s situation complicates things. But regardless of her, they now have a superweapon they can use anywhere they desire. Imagine this thing at the Strategy Conference. Thousands dead. We’d lose almost all of the Imperial top. Or the Imperial Center. Millions.”

Roslin’s eyes trail off, crossing her arms even tighter.

“Or here, at home. Our home.” Eva inhales sharply through her nose as a shiver erupts from her spine. “The Rebels have a war to win. They have a weapon that can finally match a Star Destroyer. No way will they sack it. They won’t hesitate using it, and the only one that can stop them is us.”

A pause of silence lingers between them. Roslin remains quiet, but her unspoken fears reflect heavily in her eyes, shimmering like two alarms. Roslin’s eyes drift downward and sighs deeply, her shoulder slumping a little. “You seem certain of this. You trust your instincts?”

A surge of conviction rushes through Eva’s nerves as her eyes narrow. “I wouldn’t have done this if I didn’t believe in it.”

Slowly, Roslin nods, but in the corner of her eyes, Eva can still see hints of uncertainty. “Then… I’ll back you up. We’ll do it. But if this goes sideways,” and she steps towards Eva, towering over her like an enraged giant. “Remember that I’m going to use you as a scapegoat.”

With a shivering breath, Eva nods as Roslin’s last word echoes in her mind. But regardless, whatever the future will be, all of it is built upon the foundation Eva has laid. If it collapses, so will everything else, and all of it will be her fault. So be it, then. Refusing to take responsibility is what scumbags would do.

Roslin presses her lips into a thin line as a hint of guilt shimmers in her pupils. “I’m sorry, I hope you-,”

“I understand,” Eva snaps. “I shall take full responsibility.”

Roslin nods. “Well then. I’ll talk with Peyton. You’re dismissed.”

Roslin seems to be fully on board now. A short smile forms on her face, grateful for Roslin’s understanding. 

“Yes sir,” Eva nods, and turns around with uplifting shoulders, filled with pride.

Finally, Roslin seems to understand that sitting still will eventually make them pay the price. Acting now is the most important, regardless of whatever Command is thinking. With or without orders, stopping the Rebels and their new weapon is what they must do.

Suddenly, Roslin’s voice echoes over the parking lot. “Eva, one more thing. There’s a saying in the Imperial military.”

Eva glances over her shoulder slightly as she continues walking back to her squad.

“Good soldiers follow orders,” Roslin continues.

Eva stops in her tracks. For a moment, the hums of the Capital cease to exist. Good soldiers follow orders; words she hasn’t thought of lately.

“What happened to it?” Roslin asks.

Her words press against her chest like chains entangling her body. Slowly, Eva turns around. She meets Roslin’s sharp gaze, her jaw tight. Good soldiers follow orders . They were drilled into her mind as it became clear that all the taskmasters desired from her were following them. Following their words without question was the key to become the best, most prestigious soldier of the Empire. The red flag of the Empire waving at her chest was all that mattered. It was the cornerstone of the Academy and shaped her into the ruthless, Rebel scum killer all cadets seem to admire her for. And yet, it feels like it has fallen into despair. Orders now seem to be a second-grade priority. Orders now have to be broken.

Roslin’s arms are still crossed as she is enshrouded in pure darkness like a dark shadow. Eva’s narrow body draws a short shadow over the tarmac. The light above her hums faintly.

“We all believed in it, and still do,” Roslin continues. Her voice sounds calculative, choosing her words carefully. “You too, right?”

Eva swallows hard. “I did. I still do,” Eva admits, quietly. 

“What happened to it?” Roslin repeats, stepping closer.

“I believed in it because I thought orders would always lead me to the right path - that I would become a better soldier, the best possible,” Eva responds. “But… I’ve realised that sometimes, following orders isn’t enough. I can’t rely on distant men. Sometimes, I have to act by myself to do what’s actually right for us - the people of the Empire. I have to act on instincts,” and she takes a big gasp of frigid air, rushing in to cool her burning nerves. “Good soldiers follow orders. I still do, but maybe I’m not so mindless or brainwashed after all. Maybe I have to take things into my own hands - make work of it.”

The words hang in her mind as Eva’s gaze lingers to Roslin. The Empire demands loyalty, unwavering and unquestioning. It’s how they’ve conquered the galaxy. But Eva recognises that orders do not always reflect the truth - what should happen. Sometimes, the extra step is required, even if it goes against standing orders. 

Good soldiers do not only follow orders; they follow their humane instincts. She trusts what mom and dad have given her.

***

The darkness has never seemed this dark. Her soft footsteps echo through the sewage pipes below the city as Eline wanders behind her Rebel captors. The only light comes from the erratic beams of the Rebels’ flashlights, lighting the way up ahead as the sewage tunnel stretches towards the infinite darkness. How long have they been walking here? An hour? Two? It feels like years already.

As a lightbeam crosses her, a heavy weight briefly slips from her shoulders. Amidst the cold darkness, she shakes with warmth as if a sudden, hot gust of wind pierces through the raging blizzard. As the Rebel turns his flashlight away from her, she is left in the dark again, and the cold returns, crashing into her. The light feels like the only familiar thing in this place.

Eline wraps her arms around herself, squeezing herself to death. A nauseating pain throbs in her lungs. She’s been without her medicine for almost a week and the terrible symptoms of Respitora Constriction have gotten worse. In the first days, she could live with only a few coughs, but now, things have escalated terribly. Her lungs feel like they’re about to collapse and burst open simultaneously. It is as if a monster is stuck in there, trying to get out, punching against the insides of her ribs while her body tries to fight it. 

A sudden cough erupts from Eline’s lungs. The sound rips through the dark, followed by a sharp, wet rasp. Her trembling hands brush her lips, and as she holds them before her eyes, she can make out the crimson spots of blood on her palms. Her breathing quickens as panic swells in her chest. Eva… I hope you’re not too late…

Eline stumbles and nearly falls, but catches herself against the cold, steel wall. Her eyes catch the glimpse of the Twi’lek ahead of her. Her silhouette looms tall in the light as her voice cuts through the oppressive darkness, while a smaller silhouette walks besides her. 

“Sir, we do not have much time left now that the Empire is coming down onto what’s left of your old base,” Kishtung snaps, calm yet menacing. “If we want to gain the upper hand in our escape, we will need the Artefact.

That other silhouette belongs to the commander of the Rebel group as he points his finger at her. “The Artefact is not a weapon, it is a doomsday device,” Girkin retorts. 

His tone is low, likely trying to keep the echoes of their conversations from carrying too far. Their words blur in Eline’s ears as they fall apart. Their silhouettes are barely visible.

“We are going to need it if we want to break into their base,” Kishtung responds. “It’s outside the residential areas. Staging an attack there won’t harm any civilians.”

“Regardless of the measures we take,” Girkin snarls, “It has a lot of pedestrian traffic. I do not want the lives of thousands on my conscience. You don’t want to either.”

Their words blur together, but they peak her interest and Eline tries to catch more of their exchange as she leans forward. However, her vision swims in and out of focus. The pain in her lungs drown out their voices as her own rasping breaths sound deafening.

Then, a surge of pain rushes through her spine. Eline gasps as everything spins out of control until her legs give out. She crumples to her knees with a faint cry and crashes into the steel floor. Eline tries to breathe but her lungs pulsate with pain as if they’re collapsing with full force. Her throat burns as she tries to breathe but no oxygen can enter her lungs. Tears form in her eyes as the panic burns within her, whirling violently.

Footsteps rush towards her. Two hands go under her armpit and grasp her chest firmly and roll her over, gently onto her back. Her swollen eyes land on a Rebel medic kneeling at her side. His flashlight burns in her eyes before he tilts it away. His face is barely visible through the dark.

“Sit still for a second,” he urges, his voice calm and steady.

His hands feel cold as he lifts her head up. A hint of disgust flickers through her body as she tries to resist, but her body is too weak to move. The medic shoves his satchel below her head to rest on instead of the hard, cold floor.

“I-, I can’t breathe,” Eline squeezes out of her lungs, her voice barely above a whisper.

“Shh, I’ve got you,” he murmurs as he digs into his medpack. “What do you feel?”

Eline swallows hard. “My chest… hurts.”

The medic nods. “You got anything you know of?”

Tears steak down Eline’s chin. “Respitora,” she sobs.

“Got it,” he responds, and moments later, she feels the itching prick of a needle in her arm. 

Eline gasps as warmth spreads through her veins like warm water, dulling the edge of the pain in her chest. Her lungs open up and the cold air rushes in like a storm. Eline wheezes as she gasps for every bit of oxygen in the air. She straightens. For a moment, she feels the tiniest flicker of safety in the care of the Rebels. 

The Rebel shuts his medpack. “Okay, kid. You’ll be okay for now,” he says, his tone gentle. “I’ll carry you.”

He grasps her armpits and lifts her from the floor as though she weighs nothing. Her body bumps into his as her head lands on his shoulder. Her arms embrace him, trying to keep herself from falling. 

“Let me know if you feel worse, alright?” he murmurs, softly.

Eline nods weakly as she rests her head on his shoulder. A hint of disgust still murmurs within her. She hates them - their cause, their methods, their terrible acts against her… they are the reason why she’s lost her arm and had it replaced with a metal facade. Yet, as her hand grasps the Rebel firmly, a strange warmth stirs alongside her. Are they all monsters? Or is she too broken to trust her instincts anymore?

The Rebel soldiers around her, following the light to safety, blur around her into vague silhouettes. The echoing footsteps fade out as any sound slips away. The darkness dances around the edges of her vision as the medicine pulls Eline into a semi-conscious daze. She tries to stay awake, trying to catch a glimpse of where they’re going, but each step pulls her deeper into darkness.

The face of Eva flashes before her eyes, etched with determination. A spark of hope bursts within her before she closes her eyes. Eva… please, find me before it’s really too late…

Chapter Text

Like opening the heavy, steel door of an eons-old dungeon, Eva steps slowly into the bathroom of the motel. It reeks of sweat and sour carbon dioxide as she flips the lights on. Before her, slumped against the wall, still hangs her Rebel prisoner from the towel rail, barely alive. The blood has stopped gushing out of his wounds and formed crimson stains on the bleak tiles. 

With a steady heart, Eva steps aside from the door and lets the others in. Roslin enters. Peyton enters. 

Then, Ashara enters. Her eyes land on his terrible wounds and she lets out a hoarse gasp. “What in Mother’s world…”

Eva clenches her fists as she stares at the Rebel vermin at the floor. If they want to find out what Kishtung and her Rebel companions are up to with the Artefact, this Rebel will have the answers. Even if his injuries are soon-to-be fatal, Eva is determined to get every word of information out of him. However, though her eyes are drenched with blood, the Rebel’s face flashes through the crimson haze. The sweat beads on his forehead as his eyes are shut. Life is absent from his face, but his struggle to live is all too clear, and Eva cannot shake off the feeling that instead of vermin, she is looking at a human.

“So… this is the man,” says Roslin with an uncomfortable sigh. “Are you sure he will have the answers?”

Slowly, Eva nods as her eyes are stuck to the Rebel. “Hundred percent, commander. Through him, we can find out what the Rebels’ next target will be. They have probably been planning such an attack for long, so he must know what’s been going around.”

Ashara shuffles towards her, silently. “Eva,” she whispers. “What have you done to him?”

“Beaten him up… too many times, I think,” Eva mutters.

“Are you even sure he’s going to answer?” Ashara mumbles, her voice strained with concern. 

Eva lets out a scoff of disgust. “I’ll make him answer.”

As her fists clench, Eva steps forward. Her footsteps shiver the floor with danger as she cracks her fingers, ready to make him answer no matter what. He seems to feel her footsteps through the floor as his body tenses up slightly. His head slowly tilts up, his eyes still shut.

You’re gonna answer me, scum .

But before a word can escape her mouth. She feels a hand softly landing on her shoulder. Pulling her out of her thoughts, Eva glances over her shoulder. It’s Ashara. Her Pantoran eyes flicker with concern like a mother in distress. Her lips are tightly pressed as she tilts her head slightly towards the side. Her gaze flicks towards the back of the room - a silent request for Eva to back away. Ashara’s meaning is clear: they need to talk out of the Rebel’s earshot.

Eva hesitates following Ashara’s urge to step back. They cannot endlessly discuss their next step if they want to do something, and she is certain that the Rebel’s answers will help them. Why is Ashara stopping her?

The honest concern in Ashara’s eyes convinces Eva to follow. Slowly, she turns around and walks with Ashara back to the squad in silence. Ashara still holds her hand tightly on her shoulder. Eva makes eye contact with Roslin. She shrugs silently, seemingly uncertain about Ashara’s intention, too.

Ashara glances over at the Rebel for a brief moment until she looks back at Roslin and Eva. “He doesn’t have long to live…” she whispers, her voice strained, and makes eye contact with Eva. “If you push too hard, you’ll lose him before we get anything useful.”

Eva shrugs, silently. “So what, we won’t need him anymore.”

Ashara’s lips press even tighter, almost with a hint of silent anger twisting in her eyes. “You’ll break him before he’s even hearing you. He’s at knife’s edge. He’s probably already hearing the angels waiting for him and the golden gates clanging open. And I’m saying this as the medical officer. I mean it.”

Eva gazes at the floor. Ashara might be right. She has already pushed the Rebel far too close to death with her previous interrogation. She beat him up, shot his hand off, strangled him, and broke his ribs and possibly his lungs - for a good cause, still. But had she continued, she might not have gotten the answers she needs.

“We have to do it differently,” Ashara whispers. “I think I know how, but… it requires some of my stuff, which I won’t be able to use when any of you go down,” and she makes eye contact with Eva. “May I?”

Eva’s fists still clench before finally letting go. Slowly, she drops her head. “Go ahead.”

Ashara remains quiet, wanting to be sure Eva won’t add anything else, until she gives her a nod, recognising she has all the freedom. “Thanks. I hope you don’t mind switching strategies.”

Swiftly, Ashara turns around. Eva follows her footsteps with her eyes as Ashara gently lowers herself to the floor and bows over the Rebel, inspecting him with two, keen eyes. He seems to notice her as he lets out a faint groan, his legs slowly moving.

“Keep still,” says Ashara, softly. “You don’t have much longer to live, considering your blood loss. I can patch you up, but only in exchange for everything that’s inside your brain.” She taps lightly on his sweaty forehead with her finger. “You got me?”

The Rebel’s lips twitch slightly, but no word comes from his mouth. Then, a weak groan - an agonising plea for help - follows. The Rebel gives a silent, shivering nod, devoid of any life residing within him.

As Ashara puts her medpack on the floor and starts patching him up, Eva watches her. She feels a wave of discomfort washing over her. Has there ever been an Imperial wanting to save a Rebel? Most would leave them for dead and beat them up anyway regardless of how close they are to meet death. Even Eva would, and she still wants to. Even if he’d die before he’d answer, it is simply much more satisfying to just see him die . He tried to kill her when they were racing a hundred plus kilometers an hour over the highway. Some humans - or monsters - are just too inhumane to be saved.

Even now, a part of her wants to see him die. Yet, Ashara, kneeling before him with unwavering focus, is challenging an instinct Eva struggles to understand. It feels wrong in Eva’s stomach as she tilts her head slightly downwards. Her eyes drift to her feet. Is this the right way? Should they help the enemy? Should they use their medical resources for this?

Eva is not sure.

As they give Ashara some space, the squad disperses: Ecklund and Roslin take the roof, on the lookout, Daxan is… somewhere - probably smoking. Eva and Peyton remain in the motel room, waiting for Ashara to finish patching up the Rebel. Sitting sideways at a chair at the dining table, her arm resting on the backrest, she stares at the bleak, shut door of the bathroom, hearing the faint murmurs and the clink of tools.

Even if it is socially accepted, will Ashara’s plan help? Will a man so far down in his hole suddenly come out and reveal all of his precious secrets? Surely not? It’s an indoctrinated, fierce man who put everything of his life into the Rebel cause. He’d rather take the blade and slice his own throat in two without second thoughts. No way would he sway his door open so easily, right?

A cold tap hits her hand resting on the metal table. Eva glances over at Peyton. They make eye contact.

“Hey, maybe you should make yourself useful,” Peyton murmurs. The screen of her datapad enclaved in her hands reflects off her eyes. “Considering it’s all your plan.”

Eva nods, slowly. “Right… Do you need me for anything?”

Peyton hums, softly. “Do a com-check. Just call everyone in, one by one. We’ll see whose comms is bugging.”

“Will do,” Eva responds. She straightens up and swings her legs around, sliding into a proper seating position. “What are you doing?”

Peyton presses her lips, glancing briefly at her screen. “You know that weapon of hers, that burning sword or something?”

Burning sword? She remembers Mr Dane calling it a lightsaber of some sorts. Hopefully, his recovery after the Rebel shoot-out and the consequent explosion is going swiftly. Her lips freeze for a moment, thinking about him. She should see him at the hospital, at one point, check in on how he’s doing. 

Eva hums, his thoughts about Mr Dane still reminiscent. “Lightsaber, you mean.”

“Is that how it’s called? Well anyway, I’ve been searching for a weakness in that thing - trying to… theorise about possibilities.”

“You’ve got anything?” Eva asks.

“Well,” and Peyton inhales sharply through her nose, “I think it’s some sort of plasma weapon. I’ve seen it deflecting blaster bolts like a laser against a mirror. Only plasma can do such thing - deflecting highly-concentrated beams of energy. Usually, those kind of weapons are shit at holding off particles. So, assuming this… lightsaber thing, is a plasma weapon, then fire might be its weak point, I think.”

Fire, huh? So we’re going back to the old times, killing beasts with fire and spears. Neat.

Eva’s eyebrows rise with surprise. “Fire. I shouldn’t be surprised that you’re the one to find that out. Great work.”

A short smile forms on Peyton’s face. “Thanks. But it’s still quite a gamble. I’m still working on it,” and she quickly focuses her attention on her screen, going back to work.

If Peyton’s research is true, then Eva recognises the fight might be easier to win. 

Going back to work too, Eva moves her wristlink to her chin and checks-in with everyone of the squad. It ensures that their comms are working as they should and that they won’t face any surprises in the future. Everyone responds in a timely manner without issue. However, she does notice a low-frequency static noise on the channel. It probably isn’t much of an issue; it is mostly frequency interference caused by household appliances or background activity, or simply Imperial technology bugging a little. 

Aside from a negligible static, everything seems to be fine. It might be a good thing to check her ammo. She may need to replenish a powercell or two. 

As Eva puts her blaster gently on the table and starts counting her operable powercells, her blank, working mind is slowly drawn to Peyton. They have been through so much together. They worked through the pre-recruitment program of the Academy, helped each other from day one of the Junior program and fought through so many Rebel barricades. Yet, lately, things seem to have changed. She has changed. Eva wonders why.

As the movements of her fingers freeze, Eva’s eyes slowly drift to Peyton. Her eyes are fixed at her datapad, tapping away. Though they sit almost right next to each other in the room, a breeze of cold air rushes in to fill the distance that has formed between them - a subtle tension that she cannot ignore. 

“Peyton,” Eva begins, her voice quiet.

She doesn’t look up. Her focus remains on the datapad as she responds with a hum. “Hmm?”

Eva hesitates. Don’t be too direct. Just… I don’t know… swim into it. “I was wondering… you think we’re doing okay?”

Peyton’s fingers freeze on her screen, and she finally glances up at Eva. Her eyes are unreadable at first as her brows furrow slightly. “Yeah, we are, aside from the future stand-off with Kishtung. Roslin’s back. Ashara’s fine. Ecklund’s fine,” her eyes shimmer with enthusiasm for a second. “She stunned three boys at the training with one shot, by the way. The stun bolt bounced off of their chests three times before dispersing. It was astral-,”

“No, I don’t mean that,” Eva snaps, stammering. “I mean, us. Us two.”

The short-living enthusiasm vanishes from her eyes as Peyton slowly leans back in her chair with uncertainty. Her gaze remains unreadable. She crosses her arms. “What do you mean?”

“Well… I don’t know,” Eva murmurs. “I feel like things are different between us.”

Peyton’s head tilts a little. “Different how?” she asks, cautiously.

Eva’s fingers brush the edge of the table. “We’ve been close friends ever since the Academy, you know? But you seem… dissatisfied with me? Mad, maybe?”

Peyton’s eyes drift away, staring elsewhere as if searching for the right words. “I’m not… mad at you, or dissatisfied. Just… frustrations. I’ve just got a lot going on, okay?”

“Like what?” Eva stammers.

“Like being second-in-command officer now,” Peyton responds, lifting her shoulders a little. “It’s not easy. And sometimes, you make it harder.”

Eva blinks, clenching her jaws as she’s caught off guard by Peyton’s bluntness. “Me?”

“Yeah,” Peyton responds, soft. “I get it. You run off, do your thing and save everything and everyone. I get it. You’re trying to help or you think it’s the right move. But now, I’m responsible for a lot. When Roslin was gone, I had to report to the higher-ups for any word or letter - any mistake or action. Now that she’s back, we have to account for all the shit we go through. And that’s a lot of shit.”

Eva glances down. Her fingers curl into loose fists. She didn’t know Peyton had to join Roslin in accounting for the squad’s actions at the top of command. How must it feel, standing there while some pairs of burning eyes looked at you, able to demote you for any stutter?

Wrong decisions probably have much more consequences now.

Eva leans back. “I thought… I didn’t know you felt like that. I thought it was okay. I mean, you gave me clearance to wing it on my own.”

“I know I did,” Peyton responds, her voice softening. “Maybe it's a mistake from me. But I’ve been erasing your breadcrumbs at Malstrom Base to convince them you were sick. It’s quite the weight that’s on my shoulders. Guess how pissed they’ll be once they find out.”

Eva lets out a soft, uncomfortable smirk. They don’t need to guess; last time they fuddled a sickness report, they had the ISB slamming their fists on the tables because they thought Eva was responsible for assault, home invasion, and the murder of an Imperial citizen they didn’t know was a Rebel infiltrant. Ashara and Peyton got smacked quite hard when the ISB found out they had played around with the Academy’s files.

But those hectic moments paid off: thanks to their fraudulent efforts, Eva unmasked one of the most wanted Rebel spies. Sometimes, the rules have to be broken to do the right thing. Why does Peyton not seem to understand that?

“I know…” Eva trails off. “I didn’t mean to make things harder for you. But sometimes the rules aren’t enough. Protocols would’ve wanted us to sleep through the crisis. Don’t you think the right thing is sometimes achieved by breaking the protocols?”

“Everything’s gonna turn into shit when everyone does it,” Peyton responds. “Protocols exist to keep everything in place, to ensure everything is orderly.” She smirks a little. “Although, no one at the Academy seems to have the balls you do, but… still. They don’t want anyone playing around as their own boss.”

“Sometimes, you have to, though,” Eva murmurs, her eyes drifting away to the floor. “I mean, when shit hits the shields, I’m not sure if I can rely on superiors sitting at their desks, drinking booze, getting laid or something, half a city away, while I’m digging my own grave here. They don’t know the true danger. Only we do. Sometimes, we have to make our own orders.”

“Then you’re giving yourself a bigger shovel to dig your grave while you’re at it,” Peyton shrugs. 

Eva drops her head, almost hitting the surface of the table with full force, only to be stopped by her arms. A frustrated sigh escapes her. She clenches her fists, trying to keep her tone down. “If the odds of destroying our enemy are in our favor, I’d take that risk, even if they’d throw us down a rank. Do you really want to be stuck to protocols all the time?”

“I do,” Peyton responds. “It keeps everything orderly and tidy. It would be chaos if everyone thought the same as you.” 

“But what if they’re wrong and you’re right?” Eva asks.

Peyton’s eyes drift to her datapad, unsure of how to respond. “I don’t know. But we also don’t know jackshit about what the Army or the ISB are doing. They could already be onto this. If we’d draw our own line, we’d possibly hinder their operations and make everything go worse. They might already be working on this.”

“I’m not sure if I could live with that, letting them try fixing it while I hold the secrets,” Eva sighs.

Peyton leans forward slightly, resting her arms on the table. “Okay. But… let me reconnect to what you said earlier. Us two. You think we don’t like each other anymore?”

Eva goes silent and swallows hard. Should she tell her she doesn’t feel like they’re friends anymore? What if Peyton rejects it? Will she get mad? Eva shifts uncomfortably in her seat. Her fingers toy with the edge of a powercell in her hand. 

“I don’t know,” Eva murmurs. “It doesn’t feel like how it used to be…”

Peyton’s expression softens. She rushes for Eva’s hand, fiddles the powercell out of her fingers, and holds her hand tightly. A wave of warmth pushes through the cold of her veins as her eyes dart to Peyton. 

“Peyt,” Eva gasps. “What are you-,”

“Eva,” Peyton interrupts softly, her thumb brushing against her cold knuckles. “You think we’re not friends anymore? No! We’re still friends as much as when we first met each other.”

“Then why does it feel like we’re headbutting each other ever since?” Eva murmurs.

“Because it’s what friends do,” Peyton responds. “You do things that I don’t always agree with. It’s driving me crazy, but you’ve never turned your back to me. It’s just soldier’s life. And maybe I should headbut you. I mean, you’re reckless, and yes, you draw your own line. Sometimes I have to pull you back. It’s not so bad.”

Eva lets out a trembling sigh as her fingers tighten around Peyton’s. Her chest expands with relief pushing out all the cold in her blood. “You want me to stop running away?”

To her surprise, Peyton shakes her head. “Nah. Just keep doing it. You force me to take risks that I wouldn’t dare, while I pull you back to keep you to the rules.” She leans back against the backrest. “I guess we balance each other out, perfectly.”

Eva smirks. A flicker of warmth settles in her chest, destined to stay there permanently. “It means a lot.”

Peyton nods with a smile on her face. Her eyes shimmer with joy. “Don’t forget that you mean a lot to me, too.”

Eva chuckles as her grip on Peyton’s hand tightens. Her shoulders relax with relief, and as her eyes meet Peyton’s gaze, there is no sign of the coldness and hostility that once burned in her eyes. Their heads clashed when they both unexpectedly had to compete for second-in command. Peyton no longer agreed with Eva’s ‘let’s wing it’ missions, but what Eva realises now is that, even with disagreements and clashes, they are still friends. 

Friendship is the strength to value each other despite the conflict. It is not the absence of disagreements but the willingness to work through them.

***

After what seems to have been an eternity, the squad rushes back to the bathroom. The space is cramped as the dim light flickering above casts uneven shadows over the floor. This time, they are joined by an imprisoned Rebel who’s well and alive and hasn’t been for days in lonely confinement - in a motel, of all places. Despite his pale, sweaty skin, his wounds are sewn and his eyes are wide awake. 

Eva’s eyes sharpen in an instant as she tightens her fists. What she needs to know from him is one, simple thing: the step the Rebels will take next. Where they will attack is where Kishtung will be. Where Kishtung will be, so will the Artefact. If the Rebels are smart, they have spent months - maybe years - preparing for such an attack. That timespan should be enough for this Rebel man to have heard at least whispers about what they are possibly targeting next. And now that Kishtung seems to be their strongest soldier, Eva imagines her as the leader of the troops, standing at the forefront with her lightsaber aimed at wherever they shall march to. Eva feels it in her very core: she is close to stopping them. She is in reach, but all that remains to block her way is a single variable. 

Ashara swings her medpack from the floor and walks back to the squad. She taps Eva on the shoulder. “Work’s done.” She shuffles closer to her ear. “Be gentle,” she whispers.

Or she might break him as easily as before. Though she wants to shove it off, Eva takes it to herself to remain calm and keep her fists where they belong: not in his jaw. She gives Ashara a curt nod.

“Eva, do you need space?” Roslin asks.

“That would be appreciated,” Eva responds, her eyes fixed to the Rebel.

The rest rush out of the room, leaving her alone with a Rebel whose fate lies in her hands. Her eyes grow sharper. If he doesn’t give her what she needs, it might come down to her fists. However, she cannot let herself go freely on him. Besides, she’ll need to spare her energy for whatever is next. She shouldn’t waste it on this petty interrogation. As Ashara’s words echo through her mind, she takes some deep gasps of cold, stale air and steps forward. Her boots echo faintly on the cold floor as her eyes burn into the Rebel.

“You owe us answers,” Eva growls.

The Rebel huffs. Her eyes meet his. Defiance shimmers in his eyes, trying to keep himself together. Her hands clench. “I said, you owe us answers,” Eva barks, her voice echoing through the room.

The Rebel’s gasps are barely audible as his lips press into a thin line. At last, he seems to give way as he drops his head slowly with the regret already reflecting strongly in his pupils. “Yes, I do,” he sighs. “What exactly do you demand?”

Eva inhales sharply. “Your Rebels have the Artefact now. I want to know where they’ll strike next.”

The Rebel lets out a shivering sigh. “I’m warning you, I don’t know it all.” His voice is hard, trying to remain strong, but the cracks are clear as day to her ears.

Eva shrugs. “That is not a problem. You surely must’ve heard rumors though. Ya’ll would’ve been preparing for months for such an attack - years maybe. Tell me, have you heard anything about some upcoming operation?”

The Rebel shifts uncomfortably as his back is pressed against the tiles. “I’ve heard things. Nothing concrete, though.”

“I’ll take what you’ve got,” Eva responds, crossing her arms tightly. “I don’t have much to lose anyway.”

His pupils grow as he swallows heavily. “They have your sister, don’t they?”

Eva’s heart sinks in her chest. He knows about Eline? How? And how does he know they took her? She closed him up in this bathroom a day before they took her. If he knows they took her, then were they planning Eline’s abduction all along? Was Eline already part of the grand scheme before she got taken? She thought it was merely a desperate attempt at gaining grip. Seemingly not.  Eva’s jaws clench as the blood within her starts boiling.

“You know?” Eva snarls. 

“It was an assumption - a well-considered one, sadly,” he sighs. “With this Jedi suddenly at the wheel, she murmured about a lot. She spoke about anything that could take her precious Artefact back. Your sister’s abduction was one I heard spreading the quickest.”

Eva almost stumbles away. She knew the Jedi abducted Eline herself, but now that she’s hearing the confirmation, it feels like a bomb. Her vision turns narrow for a moment as Eva’s eyes drift away with the rage burning within her. “Piece of shit,” she murmurs.

The Rebel raises his chin, slightly, looking at her with studying eyes. “I’m sorry. It’s not my way of fighting the Empire.”

“Shut up,” Eva snaps, whispering. Her eyes dart back to the Rebel as she stabilises herself. “Your information will be your ‘sorry’. Now, talk. What else have you heard?”

“Freedom fighters are dreamers,” the Rebel continues, inhaling sharply through his nose. “We’ve been fantasizing a lot about attacking your precious installations. None were realistic though, but I can’t be sure what command found realistic or not.”

Eva tilts her head a little. It seems like he is talking around the things that matter, rather than giving concise and clear answers. A lot of ideas went around but all were impossible, or so it seems. However, whether they were realistic or not, did Rebel Command not give a shit? Did they actually plan attacks that were actually not possible? That can mean a lot. The Rebels could very well be planning for the attack on the Imperial Center; impossible and unrealistic, but perhaps not to the Rebels themselves.

A lot of targets are open now. Anything Imperial can be wiped out tomorrow. Eva feels like she’s making some distance, but not enough. She knows she will have to narrow it down.

“Be more specific,” Eva barks. “Is there anything that seems plausible to happen this week?”

The Rebel closes his eyes and drops his head, seemingly thinking. “Well, there may be one. It’s strategic, a hub… Much traffic, lots of movement… It’s something about securing information. They said it’s the key for something bigger down the line.”

Securing information and being the key to the bigger picture seems to line up with the Artefact. Kishtung has been trying to secure it for a long time, after all - even going as far as abducting her sister. It being the key to something larger makes sense. But the location is blurry. Strategic, hub, traffic, movement… It is all mumbo jumbo that can’t click together.

“You’re vague,” Eva leans closer, her dark shadow looming over him. “I need something better.”

The Rebel raises his eyes to meet hers. “Look, that’s all I know. I’m a driver, I run arrowheads, not conferences,” he stammers, and he lets out a heavy, trembling sigh. “They called it a chokepoint, whatever.”

Eva’s eyes sharpen as her thoughts churn. She can feel her mind cracking as each detail echoes through her mind. Chokepoint. Strategic. High traffic. Suddenly, a memory clicks into place - the empty warehouse below the hovertrain bridge. There was a datapad she recovered there, and it had something on it, though Eva cannot remember as crystal clear as she had hoped. Unfortunately, she cannot look back; she lost the datapad to the Artefact as the ceiling collapsed onto it, crushing it. However, she knows the memory is somewhere deep in the abyss of her mind. She will have to discuss this with her squad now that her ideas are fresh. 

Besides, if he’s not lying, then this is all the Rebel knows. It isn’t worth it to keep hammering on something that he doesn’t know. Time to head back.

“If that’s all you know,” Eva growls, stepping back. “Then you better be accurate.” She turns around and heads to the door. 

“I am,” the Rebel mutters, his voice cracking. “For what it’s worth, I hope you stop her. I didn’t sign up for this. I’ve been dreaming of fighting alongside a Jedi for a long time. With a Jedi comes dawn, they said. This Jedi… ain’t it.”

For a moment, Eva’s movement falters and she stops in her tracks. The words of Mr Dane flash back as she remembers standing in his personal museum with the old relics shimmering around her in a sea of twinkles. They were the guardians, the knights of the light, he told her. They were supposedly the defenders of the dawn, or so she interprets it. This Jedi… ain’t it? 

Eva’s lips press into a thin line as she remains quiet. “The Jedi. I heard they are the guardians of the light. What’s true of it?”

The Rebel’s eyes sharpen as he lets out a scoff, spitting on the floor. “Next to nothing,” he growls. “She’s more like the guardian of peace turned into the harbinger of darkness.”

“What do the others think?” Eva asks.

“Most are too captivated by the magic,” he snarls. “Now… Just get out of my sight, will you. I’ve given you all I have.”

His defiance towards her, as if he’s commanding her, rubs the wrong string in Eva’s chest. Her jaws clench a little as she tries to stop herself from regaining dominance. He should remember that he’s not in charge of whatever Eva does, but for now, she lets it go, because it is a crucial part of the information. Not everyone in the Rebel Alliance seems to align with Kishtung’s methods. Perhaps it’s of use to her.

As she strides to the door, she glances one last time at the Rebel, and even as the direct threat passes him, the certainty of his own claims remain in his eyes, shimmering strongly. He seems to be sure of whatever he has told her. Now, let’s see what she can make of it with the squad.

“Anything useful?” Ashara is the first to speak as Eva steps out of the bathroom. The rest has been waiting in the bedroom, scrambled around, sitting in chairs and on the chaotically wrinkled bedsheets.

“Definitely something,” Eva responds. Slowly, she wanders towards the dining table. Peyton and Ashara sit there as their eyes track her intensively, all curious.

“What did he tell you?” Peyton asks without hesitation.

“Gonk, for now…” Eva trails off. As her movement grows slower, her mind spirals deep into her thoughts.

So… he said something about traffic and… movement? Yeah.

It feels like something is clicking, but why? Why does traffic and movement feel familiar? After she interrogated the same Rebel a few days ago, he led her to that warehouse the Rebels had abandoned. They found a datapad there. It had something about movement and traffic. It is unfortunate that the data got destroyed during the Artefact’s furious demonstrations. 

But.. Daxan saw the information too. Does he remember it?

Slowly, her eyes drift to Daxan with sharp eyes. “Daxan, you remember what we found on that datapad a while back, when we were in that warehouse?”

Daxan’s lips press tightly into a thin line. His back leans against the barren, weathered wall in the back of the bedroom as his eyes trail off. “I can’t remember exactly… but,” and then, his eyes light up. “Wasn’t it a timetable of some sorts?”

Eva’s pupils grow in an instant. Now she remembers all the timestamps that were recorded in the logs of the datapad. Rows and rows of them. “Yeah, it was that. So, the Rebel told me they are targeting some place with a lot of traffic and movement, and it’s strategic and a chokepoint.”

Peyton leans in. “What kind of timetable was it?”

“I don’t know,” Eva shrugs.

“Did they have any frequency, or something, like gaps between the timestamps?” Peyton asks.

Eva doesn’t remember that. Her glance shifts to Daxan. He leans forward from the wall, looking at Peyton. “If I remember correctly, there were gaps of 30 minutes between each timestamp.”

Peyton nods, pondering as her eyes slowly drift away. “That’s quite organised. Sounds like Vaulent ATC.”

“Vaulent ATC?” Eva wonders, raising her eyebrows.

“Air Traffic Control,” Peyton responds. “They schedule landings and hyperspace departures every 30 minutes like clockwork.”

So it seems like the Rebels are targeting something that has to do with air traffic. Eva’s shoulders sink a little. That still doesn’t pinpoint the exact target. There are many facilities across the moon that handle air and space traffic. Air Traffic Control itself, Capital Stargate, Vaulent Air Command, some of the regional spaceports, Steergard Naval Yard, or the dozens of scanning installations scattered across the moon. There is no clear direction. They have to dig further.

“Then… what could they attack then?” Eva asks. She starts looping around a little. “There are too many targets.”

Ashara tilts her head. “Maybe they’re gonna attack some military installation? I mean, it’s what the Alliance usually does.”

Eva scoffs. “Usually…”

It’s not what the Alliance did when they laid dozens of homes including hers in ashes, accidental or not. Scum.

“It’s always possible,” Ashara shrugs.

Eva hums. Even then, the options are nearly limitless. However, she links back to what she said earlier: high traffic, much movement. Scanning installations don’t fit that description. All they do is spin and scan. That eliminates most, and her thoughts immediately go to Steergard Naval Yard. It is a naval installation outside the Capital the Imperial armed forces use to relocate and move their troops and equipment. The military calls Vaulent 6 the gateway to the Outer Rim; because of Steergard, it is the perfect place for moving troops into the rest of the galaxy. That might be the Rebel’s target, and strategically, it is excellent. And it excellently fills the requirements: lots of movement, lots of traffic. 

“What about Steergard?” Eva asks. “It has it all, movement and traffic.”

Peyton shrugs. “Maybe.”

Roslin leans in, her arms tightly crossed behind her back. “I’m not sure, though. Steergard doesn’t work with a 30 minute time schedule.”

“You sure?” Eva asks.

Roslin nods. “Dad used to walk guard there. He began counting the cargoships taking off to kill some time.” For a moment, she takes a deep gasp, as if trying to hold in the tears from the memories. “He said he counted 20 in an hour. Every day.”

Roslin swallows heavily. Briefly, worry flickers through her mind and Eva wonders whether she should ask her commander if she’s okay. But it might be better to hit Mynocks.

Eva inhales sharply through her nose. “So, like… one every three minutes.”

Peyton’s eyes drift away. “So Steergard ain’t it, I guess.”

Eva shakes her head. Bummer. If it did have a 30 minute time schedule, they would’ve been done right away. Of course it wouldn’t be that easy, but it does feel like a heavy fog in her mind, hard to move through and see what is right.

Ashara and Peyton erupt in murmurs as they discuss some other targets. Eva is too deep in her thoughts however as her gaze lingers to the telescreen. It displays the quiet adventures of Lola’s Academy . She can barely hear the voice of Lola and the squeaks of her Bogling pet. The overnight HoloVision schedule seems to like the programme a lot. For a moment, it draws in her all of her focus. 

Lola’s bright freckles burst with energy amidst the monotone colour as her white jacket, adorned with colourful mission badges, waves in a stormy wind. With her head over the handlebars, the little girl races through the streets of the Capital on her bright pink speeder bike. Her racing helmet covers most of her head as some strands of her red hair wave behind her like flags.

It unlocks a distant memory. In this episode, Lola is embroiled in a race against her rival, Eva remembers. Lola made a bet in the Academy’s canteen with some boy that she’s always the fastest. Her rival, who has a knack for evasion and elegant turns, challenges Lola to a race: from the Capital all the way to Northbound, a distant city at the north pole of Vaulent 6. Cold is meaningless there. With conviction, Lola accepted the challenge and now, she’s going faster than she’s ever gone before - especially since she’s rarely driven any vehicle. 

Lola’s inexperience shoots her in the back; her rival speeds through a maze of city blocks and quickly, she loses him, leaving her behind in a cloud of grey dust. The girl pulls herself out of the race and stops at the side of the drawn road. Her speeder hums quietly under her as she wipes some of her bright red strands of hair away from her eyes. 

Through the murmurs of her squad, Eva barely hears the bird-like voice of Lola. “Why is he pulling ahead?”

Her voice echoes through the street that’s drawn with monotone, grey brushes. Lola leans with her arms on the handlebars, dropping her head as her gasps cut through the vidscreen’s hum. 

“How will I ever win from him if he’s so fast?” Lola murmurs with a shiver in her voice. “I can’t win… I don’t even know how to drive!”

Eva lets out a faint smirk. “Tell me all about it,” she whispers. 

She can’t win if she doesn’t know where Kishtung will strike next. It is impossible if she doesn’t have all of the puzzle pieces. Eva’s shoulders slump with hopelessness.

Lola’s shoulders slump too as the girl lets out a sigh, clasping her forehead. “Maybe I should try to think which route he is going to take?” she murmurs to herself.

We’ve been trying that. No results, yet.

Lola reaches for her pocket and grasps a small holoprojector. She turns it on and a circular map of Vaulent 6 is shown, hovering above the projector. 

It won’t work. Trust me. Eva remembers the end of this episode quite clearly: Lola calls off her race and returns back to the Academy. The next day, and Lola walks past her rival with four officers of Capital Police, arresting him for reckless driving. Two Academy officers watch the scene unfold with disappointed eyes. The message to the young boys and girls: be a good, well-behaved cadet. Be perfect. Follow orders. Don’t race and abide by the laws. Lola, just go home. 

Then, Lola raises her head. A realisation shines brightly in her sparkling, blue pupils as the map is reflected in her eyes. “Wait… that is weird. He is not taking the fastest route to Northbound.”

Eva tilts her head with surprise. That’s not the outcome she expected. She thought Lola would go home and sleep through the night. Is she remembering this episode incorrectly? Either way, her interest suddenly peaks and her pupils grow. The murmurs of her squad go silent.

An animated, white line draws through the map. It is the route she and her rival have taken so far and it is twisting through the city blocks. Lola seems to realise something. “He is zigzagging through the maze… as if he is not going to Northbound at all, but somewhere else.”

Then, the echoing voice of an Academy instructor erupts from the vidscreen as Lola recalls what he has said to her during strategy drills: “A rival’s movements are not random. There is always a reason behind them. Do not just chase the ‘where’. Understand the ‘why’,” she murmurs.

Understand the ‘why’. 

Lola zooms out the holographic map and studies it. Then, a dot blinks on the edge of the map, and a bright spark erupts from her eyes. “He is zigzagging towards the communication tower.”

His intentions are not to reach Northbound at all. Instead, he is racing to the communication tower, far on the outskirts of the Capital. That tower can message anyone in the galaxy. The Alliance too.

Lola turns off her holoprojector and her face is left to be illuminated by the faint streetlights around her. Eva’s chest tightens as Lola’s words echo in her mind. Do not just chase the ‘where’. Understand the ‘why’. It raises a question. What are that boy’s intentions? Why is he not heading for Northbound as agreed? Because of something… shady? Something rebellious?

On the screen, Lola revs her speeder’s engine. The determination flashes across her freckled face. “Northbound no more. Comms tower, it is,” and she speeds away.

Eva watches as Lola takes a shortcut and as her arrowhead draws a sharp, pink line through the monochrome cityscape. The girl arrives at the comms tower, and there, she intercepts her rival. Panting as he falls off his arrowhead, Lola walks towards him with a grin etched on her face and her hands on her hips. She snatches the boy’s arm and there, enclaved in his hand, lies a datacard.

The grin on her face grows. “Gotcha.”

And then, it all clicks together. Lola did not defeat her rival by just chasing his heels, even after he shot out of distance. No, not at all. Instead, the little girl choose to pull out of the race and contemplate about why he’s driving; why he’s driving through a maze while the most efficient path is straight ahead. The boy needed an excuse to get out of the Academy, and he did so by using Lola’s lost bet. Well, that was quite a stupid mistake. He underestimated her quite a lot, because by finding out his motive, Lola found where he was heading and stopped him. That’s how she turned defeat into victory.

Do not just chase the ‘where’. Understand the ‘why’. What is driving Kishtung? What are her motives? Eva realises she has been thinking this the wrong way all the time. If Lola, a small, little girl, three years younger than her, can do it, Eva can too, and she starts thinking.

Kishtung, Kishtung… What’s driving her? All the time, she’s been after the Artefact. It’s like… her birthday gift. I stole it so she wanted it back with a fight. The Artefact is of course very important to her, that’s obvious. Almost as if she has an obsession with it. But… why? What does she want to do with it? 

Eva digs deeper into her memories as she starts looping around, her eyes drifting away, from Lola’s triumphant face to the monochrome floor.

When she activated the Artefact, she called it a test. She didn’t know what it was. Did Kishtung want it because she wanted to investigate the Artefact? But… she also said she didn’t want it in the enemy’s hand. She wants to secure it, too. So… she wants to escape, to flee, to run away, because Vaulent 6 isn’t a good place to secure it. Vaulent 6 is like… what? Top 5 most Imperial place in the galaxy?

And then, the realisation hits her as hard as a hovertruck. Thinking back to what Mr Dane told her about the Jedi as a whole, Eva remembers Kishtung is not alone. She has a whole organisation of knights like her, or at least had one. Securing the Artefact is of high importance. She wants it where it’s safe, where no hand of the Empire or any other entity can reach. The place where that can be achieved is when Kishtung is with her people. And they are not on Vaulent 6, but elsewhere in the Galaxy. Where exactly, Eva does not know. But what she does know is that there is only one place on Vaulent 6 that can bring one off world: Capital Stargate. It is the largest and most important spaceport on Vaulent 6. It has transfer lines to all over the galaxy. Almost no world is inaccessible through Capital Stargate. And, not only does it work with a 30 minute time schedule, it is the only road out of Vaulent 6 and the greater Gorathion System.

If Kishtung wants to escape, to secure the Artefact and reach her own Jedi-kind, she will have to go through Capital Stargate. It is the most logical target for her and the Rebels to attack, and perhaps, Kishtung’s only way of escape. 

Capital Stargate… Eva almost stumbles back as the name echoes infinitely through her mind. 

“That’s it,” Eva whispers. The shock ripples through her bones as she’s filled with disbelief. 

Her eyes draw to the vidscreen. Lola looks straight at her, as if she knows Eva is on the other side, watching her. Her bright freckles explode out of the screen amidst the monochrome background, and the little girl gives her a nod with a small smile forming on her face. If it wasn’t for Lola’s resourcefulness, Eva would have never possibly found out Kishtung’s next step. Thanks to the girl, Eva might now be one step ahead of her rival, exactly as how this episode of Lola’s Academy concluded.

A smile forms on Eva’s face, maintaining deep eye contact with Lola on the screen.

“Thanks, Lola,” Eva whispers.

Lola gives her a short nod and a wink, and Eva fills with warm bliss.

Then, Roslin leans into Eva’s narrow view, blocking the vidscreen with her face as the credits of the episode roll in. “Did you say something, Eva?” she murmurs.

Eva smirks. “I think I found out where Kishtung will attack.”

The murmurs of the squad cease as all heads turn to her in silence.

Roslin shakes her head with confusion. “What? Where?”

“I think she will attack Capital Stargate,” Eva responds.

Peyton leans in from her seat. “Capital Stargate? How?”

“Because she wants to flee,” Eva responds, her voice growing louder with conviction. She walks to the center of the room, towards the rest of the squad. “Look, she did everything to get the Artefact back. It’s clear she’s obsessed with it because she doesn’t want us to have it. She wants it somewhere safe where the Empire can’t get it. So that means she's trying to flee.”

“To where?” Ashara asks. 

“Don’t know. Probably some forgotten, backwater world,” Eva responds, “but if she wants to get anywhere off-world, then she will have to go through Stargate. That’s her only way out of Vaulent 6.”

Peyton tilts her head. In her eyes, Eva can see she isn’t fully convinced yet. 

“I… I’m not sure,” Peyton stammers and makes eye contact. “Stargate… kind of makes sense. Like, it’s the easiest way to steal a shuttle there than at Vaulent Air Command or Steergard, I suppose, but it’s not strategic at all. Like, I’d expect them to attack the VAC or Vaulent ATC… at least something military, you know? Something that gives them a shuttle and stabs a dagger deep in the Empire’s spine. Attacking a civilian target won’t make the Alliance gain anything. It won’t get them to win the war.”

Eva presses her lips, gazing down. It is indeed an odd thing that the Rebels are targeting Capital Stargate. 

“Odd indeed…” Eva murmurs.

Even if it is the gateway to the galaxy, it is not a target worth enough to waste Rebel resources on. The Alliance is unlike the Empire. While they have troopers en ressources en masse, the Alliance does not. Every trooper is worth more than a million Creds. Would they really attack Capital Stargate with the risk of suffering immense losses, simply to get a single Twi’lek and her Artefact off-world? Even if it is not a military instance, it is still highly guarded by the Spaceport Security Authority and the Capital Police Department. They may not be directly affiliated to the Imperial military, but they are still highly equipped to deal with threats such as Kishtung and her Rebels.

An attack there would still cost the Rebels a lot of men. Capturing it or destroying it would have no consequences for the Empire. Perhaps it will for Vaulent 6, but not for the greater Empire. The Emperor wouldn’t break a sweat, not even when the stinking smoke of Stargate reaches his nostrils. He wouldn’t give a damn about a civilian installation.

But what will matter to the Alliance the most? The Rebel cause or Kishtung’s cause? How much power does her rival hold over her allies? Now that she’s thinking more thoroughly about it, there are some things that do not align, but with the lack of any other option, Eva is willing to bet that Capital Stargate will be the next to lay under fire. And from deep down, Eva feels like it is the best option.

Kishtung has acted obsessively, so far. Hell, she kidnapped her sister to get the Artefact back. It is hard to believe that now, out of nowhere, Kishtung will change her mind and suddenly give no shit about the Artefact. She wants the Artefact safe, after all. Capital Stargate gives Kishtung the certainty she needs.

Eva’s shoulders rise with conviction. “Peyt, I’m sure she’ll go for Stargate. She’s obsessed with the Artefact. She wants it out of here.”

Roslin crosses her arms firmly. “Are you sure?”

Eva makes eye contact with her. “I am. 100 percent. Her obsession is driving her forward, so will it be her downfall.”

However, Roslin’s eyes drift away. The uncertainty shimmers strongly in her eyes.

“Besides,” says Eva.

Roslin makes eye contact.

“She has my sister,” Eva snarls, her voice turning into a growl. “I will get her back.”

Roslin closes her eyes, letting out a faint sigh. “You sure again… it’s not the feelings that speak?” she whispers.

“Maybe,” Eva snarls. “But it’s giving me the energy I need. I’d save you too if you were my sister.”

A short smile forms on Roslin’s face, and for the first time this night, her uncertainty and doubt about the upcoming operation is no longer shimmering strongly in her eyes. For a moment, her commander stands unwavering and indestructible before her, even when they are about to face an equally indestructible enemy.

Chapter Text

Capital Stargate. The name echoes through her mind constantly, taking up every space possible.

Now that they know for certain where Kishtung and the Rebels will strike next, the squad starts planning out their strategy as the night grows late. As Eva throws in ideas and complaints, arguing about possible gaps and oversights, they slowly put together a plan.

Capital Stargate is Kishtung’s only way out of Vaulent 6, out of the claws of the Empire. This night already, they will head to the spaceport and positions themselves on the roof of a nearby building. From there, they will see everything unfolding, including Kishtung’s arrival. And with Ecklund’s eyes better than that of the ISB, Kishtung’s attack will have no chance of happening deep in the night without noticing. 

When Kishtung announces her attack, probably with a lot of force since that’s the only way to get through spaceport security, Eva and her squad will be there in no time. In the main terminal and the departures hall, there is room to overwhelm Kishtung from above; a lightsaber’s weakness might be fire, Peyton assumes. With incendiary bombs crudely made from booze and cloth, they can set Kishtung alight. It might leave her defenseless, and in that short window of time, Eva will retrieve the Artefact and run as far away as she can. 

An attack on Capital Stargate won’t go unnoticed by authorities. Not only will the Capital Police Department and Spaceport Security respond, the ISB and the Army Police will too. They can only use one road that leads to Capital Stargate. As long as Eva runs away from Kishtung and towards the ISB, the Artefact will be saved and the enemy won’t be able to get it back. The ISB will handle Kishtung themselves, while Eva has brought the Artefact back to safety.

That’s the plan. Overwhelm, retrieve, run. Don’t look back.

A cold breeze rushes through the air as the night sky is darker than ever. Thick clouds have swept over the city like a rug. Shivering as the cold feels biting, Eva’s eyes linger to a burning light spot in the middle of the dark city as she’s sitting on the roof of a warehouse. That light spot is Capital Stargate. While most of the surrounding warehouses and offices have gone asleep, the spaceport is wide awake as its fierce lights shine into the night sky, forming a beacon for oncoming starships landing and departing. Ahead of her, there’s a wide avenue heading for the large, main terminal. 

Overwhelm, retrieve, run.

Eva’s eyes dart to a starship lifting off. With fierce lights, it rises to the night sky as its sublight thrusters roar like a wild animal, pushing the craft higher and higher. She follows it until it is swallowed by the thick clouds. In the corner of her eye, she notices the faint lights of security gunships flying around the perimeter. 

Overwhelm, retrieve, run.

The plan echoes through her mind. Though they came up with the plan together, Eva can’t shove aside the doubts that linger in her mind, even when this whole operation is her idea. It can’t be that simple, can it? What if Kishtung knows they’re on the lookout? What if Peyton is wrong, and overwhelming Kishtung with fire will fuel her rage rather than stop it? What if it all goes wrong?

Will she see Eline again if it does - if all goes to shit?

Eva is not certain. The doubt in her own plan and experience gnaws on her. Not only will she have to rely on herself, she has to rely on third parties. What if the ISB arrives too late? What if they see her and her squad as hostile? They’re all here without anyone knowing, after all. They might very well see Eva as a Rebel. 

But among all the questions, one screams the loudest: what if Kishtung has already prepared? The opening attack - overthrowing her with overwhelming firepower - relies on the element of surprise. If she already knows about their opening strategy or somebody totally different somehow messes with the plan, everything will go wrong right at the start. 

A lot might go wrong. If it does, Eva will have to claim responsibility for everything. A slight shiver runs through her spine as she already knows how her conversation with her superiors will go. Though they were slightly appreciative of the last time she went AWOL, she cannot tell whether it will go this way again.

Eva might not be even there to claim responsibility at all, if the plan goes even more wrong.

Suddenly, Eva feels a light stomp in her shoulder. As it pulls her out of her thoughts, Eva glances away from the spaceport and her eyes land on Daxan. His fingers are curled around the glass bottle of booze as he prepares the firebombs. His eyes are soft, his lips pressed into a thin line.

“You good?” he asks, cramming the crumpled cloth into the bottle.

Eva gives him a faint nod. “Yeah.”

Daxan raises an eyebrow. “You sure?”

He can tell she’s uncertain about everything. She drops her head and lets out a faint sigh. “No, I’m not.”

Daxan pauses as he puts the bottle down beside him. The alcohol inside gushes against the glass. “What’s bothering you? The mission?”

Eva hesitates as her fingers tighten around the edge of her jacket. She nods, slightly. “The plan. I can’t help but hear doubts.” Her voice shivers. A cold gust of wind crashes into her face. “The plan feels like it’s held in the air by strings. Too much can easily go wrong. What if Kishtung is smarter than we think? What if Peyton is wrong about fire being the lightsaber’s weakness?” She lets out a faint sigh as her eyes drift away. “This plan can break so easily. There are too many ‘what ifs’ in my mind and I can’t take them away.”

For a brief moment, Daxan studies her with keen eyes, then leans back and rests his weight on one hand. He tilts his head. “There’s no need to doubt yourself. I mean, look at where we are now. You’ve gotten us and yourself this far.” He snorts lightly. “You were quite confident back there. You even convinced your own, hard commander to follow you. What happened with that confidence?”

Eva chuckles a little, though there’s nothing to laugh about. “I guess it’s just late,” and she yawns, stretching her arms. For a moment, the world around her spins until she takes a big gasp of cold air. “Maybe it was just a rush of over-confidence, a way to cope with bad odds.”

“And yet, even when we’re all so exhausted, we still put together a formidable plan,” Daxan remarks. 

“I know,” Eva responds, glancing away. Her eyes land on the silhouette of Roslin and Ecklund, staring at Capital Stargate. “I was confident when I realised there was a way to stop the Twi’lek. But the way we’ll have to do it… just… doesn’t sit right with me. I’ve made it sound too easy when I said we could stop her.”

Daxan’s eyes draw to the silhouettes of the two girls too as they stand on the edge of the roof. “You do realise who you have in your squad, do you?”

Eva glances back at him. “Of course, I do, they’re my squadme-,”

“-the best, most skilled soldiers of the Academy,” Daxan snaps.

Eva presses her lips as her eyes drift to her feet, curled up beneath her.

“I’m not saying this to play with your feelings, but you truly are one, if not, the best soldier of the Academy,” Daxan continues. “At age thirteen, you brought down a Rebel agent and punched a gap in the Alliance’s effort. And not alone, but with a whole squad. This squad has already done so much with unfavourable odds, yet, has persevered everytime. This crisis won’t be the downfall. If it would, it would’ve happened already.”

Eva listens closely, but the spark of reassurance is extinguished quickly by the cold gust. The wind picks up again, howling through the clouds as she tightens her jacket around her shoulders. Her eyes drift down and she snorts, lightly.

“I’m not sure,” Eva murmurs. “Reality is often disappointing.” 

Daxan watches her for a moment, until he glances away too, staring into oblivion, over his shoulder. 

Eva knows she has a squad she can rely on. There has not been a single time where any of her friends have let her down. Eva knows she can always trust them, but even then, how far can she go with a powerful enemy and a vulnerable plan? Friendship and teamwork is not the cure for everything. It is not the secret ingredient to guaranteed success. It’s also personal skill, and sometimes, luck. And both might not be on Eva’s side, knowing who she has to fight against. It leaves her cold as she curls her arms around herself. 

In the corner of her eye, Daxan forms a dark silhouette against the sparkling lights of the Capital’s skyline. His eyes gaze at the illuminated towers reaching for the night sky. In his shoulders, Eva notices a slight shiver. It’s not a shiver from the cold, but from the simmering nervousness. He might be anxious about the oncoming fight too. Daxan has only been with her for a couple of days and is already thrown into a heated battle of such a high calibre he has never experienced before. It’s probably a lot of pressure hiding inside of him, and she can tell by his shivering shoulders. 

However, Daxan swivels with his head, seemingly contemplating or hesitating about something. She can hear his silent and cold gasps echoing into the sky. Is there something else on his mind? 

“Daxan, is there something bugging you?” Eva asks, her curiosity sparked.

Daxan’s eyes dart to her. He mumbles some faint words, seemingly hesitating as if he is fighting against himself.

“There is… there is something I want to show you, before we give our lives tomorrow,” Daxan murmurs, his voice uncertain. “Never had the chance to do so.”

Briefly, Daxan glances over his shoulder, looking at Roslin and Ecklund as if ensuring they are not watching. Quietly, he shifts closer to Eva. Confused, her arms uncurl from her body while her eyes study Daxan’s swift movements. What’s on his mind? What does he want to show her?

Daxan tilts his head down. “Please,” he whispers. “Don’t freak out.”

Eva recoils slightly. For half a second, she panics. Her eyes flicker to Daxan’s belt. If he’s about to confess something completely unrelated - well, she knows where her blaster lies - just for the awkwardness alone. She shakes off her thoughts vehemently, forcing them away. It can’t be that.

Eva squares her shoulders. “Why should I?”

Daxan nods slightly, still unsure, until his hands reach for his cap. His fingers grasp it firmly and slowly takes it off, revealing the rest of his head which he has never done before to her.

Suddenly, she can’t breathe. It catches in her throat as Eva’s pupils grow. In the dim light, she can see them: small horns. They crown Daxan’s head as their edges catch the faint, yellow glow of the distant spaceport.

“Eva,” Daxan gasps, trembling. “I’m not human, I’m-”

“Zabrak,” Eva finishes, staring at the horns on his head. The lingering doubts about the mission fade into the background noise. 

Zabrak… Eva’s eyes can’t let go of the small horns that crown Daxan’s head. She’s never seen those around here, especially not in the Academy, let alone on the darkest streets of the Capital. When Zabraks are spoken about, it is rarely positive. The horns on a head where people expect a flock of hair attracts eyes, not of intrigue, but of disgust. She heard the murmurs in class, even though there were no Zabraks attending. Now, with Daxan being of an alien species she’s never seen, Eva is frozen in place, shocked, but not with disgust, but with soft intrigue.

Eva tilts her head, slightly. “I didn’t know you were,” she whispers.

Daxan hesitates, nodding slowly. His shoulders remain tense, as though he is bracing himself for an unappreciative response. His eyes drift downward. “I’ve never told anyone,” he murmurs. “We’re not particularly liked.”

“Not many of you serve the Empire,” Eva responds.

“Those who do… well, we don’t advertise it.” Daxan inhales sharply through his nose. “We just act as if we’re humans.”

Eva nods, slowly. Almost instinctively, she lifts her hand, leans forward, almost into Daxan, and reaches for the horns on his head. Eva stops just short and glances at Daxan’s frantic eyes.

“May I?”

Daxan swallows as his eyes widen at Eva’s sudden movement. “Uh… yeah, sure,” he mumbles.

Her fingers brush against one of the horns as Eva tracks its sharp edges until the tip. It feels smooth and elegant on her fingertips, but hard and resilient, too. The horns are smaller than her fingers, but despite the size, they are dominant and feel undeniably alive as if they are a crucial part of him. They feel like the horns found on big animals on backwater worlds. She remembers the mudhorn from some of the biology books. The horn above its snout protrudes far with the same shimmer on its tip like the one Eva tracks with her finger on Daxan’s head.

As Eva slowly pulls her hand back, she gives him a faint, assuring smile. “Fascinating, actually.”

Daxan presses his lips tightly. “Fascinating?” His eyes draw to the bottle of alcohol past Eva’s feet. “You sure you didn’t empty one of those?”

Eva chuckles softly. She puts her assuring hand on his lap as she leans forward. “I’m genuine.”

Daxan’s head drops slowly as the words sink in. “Fascinating…” he recites.

Eva clenches her jaws. Fascinating… did that sound wrong?  

For a moment, guilt flushes in as Eva’s cheeks swell.  “I’m sorry if it sounded condescending or something,” she stammers, her face flushing. “I didn’t mean to.”

Daxan glances at her and shakes his head. Suddenly, a short smile forms on his face. His shoulders slump as if the tension eases out of him. “No. It didn’t feel like that at all. I never heard someone speak like that about me.”

A faint smile forms on her face with joy but sharing pain as well.  “I suppose you’ve never heard something similar, too.”

Daxan nods. His eyes then drift to the sky as the clouds cascade over them. His breath is visible in the cold air as the wind carries it away and into the city. 

“I feared that my horns would upset people,” Daxan murmurs. “I feared people would deny me if I showed them I was different. They see something other - just some other lifeform, inferior to humans, as if we still dance around fires and sharpen our blades with rocks. They only treat me like them if I look like them. Hiding who I am is sometimes hard to live like.”

An uncomfortable sigh escapes from Eva as she reaches for her hands. Her fingers curl around each other. Daxan’s words feel as heavy as boulders as she tries to comprehend his struggles as a Zabrak in a human-centric galaxy. Life or even military service as anything different from humans is… different. She can feel the weight that has always been on Daxan’s shoulder, trying to hide his true identity from everyone. It must’ve been especially hard to hide it from the ISB.

 It shouldn’t be like that, should it?

Eva swallows and nods slowly. “Must’ve been hard indeed,” she murmurs. “So… why did you choose the Empire if it didn’t choose you, had you not been hiding yourself?”

Daxan’s gaze hardens as a sharp exhale escapes from his nostrils. His expressions grows distant as his hands clench into fists. “I fight for the Empire with the same reason as you. I lost my parents to Rebel bombs that day.”

His voice trembles as Eva’s eyes drift away, gazing aimlessly at the sky. While the clouds twist above her, she can see them: bombs, raining down as X-Wings soar over her, aiming for the air defenses of the Capital. She still remembers that day crystal clear. The roaring engines of Rebel fighters and whistling bombs falling to their targets echo through her ears. The howling air raid siren makes a shiver go through her spine, until all sounds stop at the sight of the two body bags of her parents. They stood on two trollies in an empty room in an overwhelmed hospital. 

Not all bombs hit their targets.

Daxan inhales deeply through his nose. His damp breath swirls in the sky as his fingers curl around his cap and put it back on his head. His little horns disappear. “My parents were construction workers. They wore helmets so they could hide who they were.”

Eva glances at him and tilts her head, slightly. “Where did they work?”

“At one of those big towers.” Daxan looks over his shoulder and gazes at the towering skyline. “TaggeCo Mid-Rim Headquarters, I think. Cladded with crystal glass, 100 floors tall.”

“TaggeCo?” Eva remarks. 

TaggeCo is one of the largest megacorporations in the galaxy, having their iron fists in shipyards, the mining industry, commerce, and even the restaurant business. Not everyone can say they build a headquarters for one of the largest corporate entities in the galaxy, let alone TaggeCo. Eva remembers seeing the TaggeCo Mid-Rim Headquarters when she took the bus to school each day. It stood under construction for some time. She may have made eye contact with one of Daxan’s parents, hiding their Zabrak horns from anyone of the world below them.

Daxan glances back at her. “Yeah. They worked there the day the Rebels attacked.” He lets out an uncomfortable, faint sigh. “And then, my parents lied 100 floors below. On the street.” He snorts lightly, monotonous. “I could barely recognise them.”

Eva lowers her head and her shoulders hunch. The feeling of dead skin, rock-hard and frigid - she can still feel it on her fingertips. How could Daxan’s parents even live in a world that would have never chosen them, had they not been hiding themselves? It must have been… terrible, right?

Eva leans slightly forward, slow and deliberate. “How could your parents actually live here? It must’ve been hard.”

Daxan nods, pressing his lips. 

Almost instinctively, Eva shuffles closer and puts her arms around Daxan’s shoulders, suddenly locking him in a comforting hug. Daxan stiffens at first, his arms unresponsive by Eva’s sudden move. She feels the tension in his shoulders like pulled strings ready to snap, but she holds steady. Slowly, his arms rise, hesitant and uncertain, until his hands settle lightly against her back and her side. Eva can feel Daxan’s heart pounding in her chest, beating fast and heavily. 

Eva feels Daxan’s chin resting on her shoulder as she presses harder. “I can’t imagine how hard it must’ve been, having to live in fear because you’re… different.”

Daxan’s grip on her steadies as his breath hitches. “I hate the Empire,” his voice breaks, the words spilling out like they’ve been trapped for years, fearful of the consequences if he lets them loose to someone else.

Eva tightens her fold, feeling the tremor in his chest. “Why didn’t you go the Rebel way?” she whispers. “I wouldn’t hesitate.”

“Because I hate the Rebels more,” Daxan responds. “I hate them for killing my parents. They had nothing to do with the war. Why did they kill them? Why did they bomb a construction site? They were 100 floors in the sky.” He scoffs with distaste. “I wasn’t given much of a choice.”

Eva’s head dips, resting on Daxan’s shoulder. Her eyes swell as if his agony leaks into her. Having to live under oppression because people think they’re better than the rest, and then having to choose between two villains - it’s a choice Eva cannot imagine having to take, if she’s even capable of doing so at all. While she’s proud of the Empire and worlds it has flourished, she now meets a side she’s heard of before, but never felt from so close. The worlds the Rebel Alliance wanted to shape must have been a heaven for people like Daxan who can be whoever they want to be, Human or Zabrak. But then having that world to take away the very people you love feels like a dagger stabbing her deep, even when she’s never had to experience it. Forcing yourself to fight for a cause you don’t like, to destroy the cause of another you hate, must be hard. How Daxan manages to stay sane, even during the little missions she’s been with him, is a question to her. 

Eva tilts her head, slightly. “How did you manage in a world like this?”

“We never give up - the Zabrak people. It’s in our genes. Even in the face of massive, unfavourable odds stacked against us.” Daxan inhales deeply. “My parents inherited a saying from their grandparents, which they passed onto me. Vash’ek tal kahr, zhan’tok vash rul’ek .”

“What does it mean?” Eva murmurs.

“Persevere despite fear and rule.” Daxan squeezes Eva tighter. “It’s how I’ve been surviving this world.”

Persevere despite the fear and rule. The words burn in her mind. Daxan has been managing in the Empire for years, but has always persevered to rule despite the fear of anyone close to him - fellow soldiers and friends. Perhaps Eva should put her fears aside. Even if the plan of tomorrow seems so vulnerable, she has to push on and persevere, even when the odds are stacked against her. She knows where Kishtung will attack, how to overthrow her and her allies. Her heart steadies and her eyes become firm as she gazes at the skyline ahead of her. Her grip on Daxan tightens.

She must persevere and fight despite the fear.

***

Two men load the battery into the crawler as a crane hovers above it. Others clean the blasters, check the medkits, lick the last wounds, and pray for success as the holographic map of Capital Stargate reflects from Kishtung’s eyes. With her hands leaning on the holotable, her eyes are narrow. Tomorrow is the day to attack. Tomorrow, the Artefact will be saved from the Empire and she can finally return home after ages of hibernation. It’s about time.

Commander Girkin joins her at the holotable. His face is stern and cold as his eyes lock onto her. “Kid, the preparations are almost done.”

Kishtung gives him a curt nod. “And the girl?”

Girkin lets out a faint sigh and clenches his jaws. “Meds are nearly futile. Her conditions are becoming worse.”

Kishtung drops her head. She has allowed herself to inflict collateral damage, but this is too much. All she needed Eline for was using her as a leverage to get it back. Now that she has it, Eline is no longer of use to her, and ever since, Kishtung got all the medical officers to see if they could make her feel better. But nothing seems to work. 

Her heart fills with regret. Perhaps… she should’ve chosen a different way. Taking Eva’s sister hostage is a burden. But how else should she have taken the Artefact back? Eva wouldn’t back down. The Dark Side is strong within her. She’d die to protect the Artefact, and that isn’t an outcome Kishtung wants either. Kidnapping Eline was, ironically, the safest approach, though she knows it won’t sit well. She’ll need to ask for forgiveness.

With a weight pulling down her heart, Kishtung straightens. “Tomorrow, when it’s done, we will release her. She doesn’t deserve the suffering I’ve brought onto her. Once we fly off, we will reunite her with her sister.”

Girkin’s face nods slightly as he releases a sharp exhale from his nostrils with relief. “Good-,”

“She will come with us, though,” Kishtung snaps. “We need all the medics on the field for this operation. We cannot leave her without medical attention. She will die without it.”

Girkin presses his lips. Amidst the sins, there is at least one bit of common sense still in whatever that’s floating in her Twi’lek head. Girkin lets out a heavy hum, mixed with disgrace and acceptance and he storms away from the holotable. He leaves her behind with heavy pounds as she tracks him with her eyes.

That went… smoother than I expected.

Knowing they rarely agree with each other, Girkin seems to willingly accept her plans with Eline. Is it because he thinks he cannot change what will happen tomorrow, or because he truly believes she’s making the right decisions? Whatever it is, Kishtung feels like he has something up his sleeve. Her eyes slowly draw back to the holotable with suspicion growing. 

What is up to Girkin’s mind?

She briefly shakes her head. That’s not what she should focus on now. Tonight, she needs all of her rest. Tomorrow will be the day she returns home, and it will not be without a fight.

As Girkin glances briefly over his shoulder, he lets out a scoff of disgust. 

“Are you out of your mind?” he mumbles to himself.

Sadly, he cannot deny that he needs her. More importantly, the future of the Rebel Alliance hangs on a tiny thread held up by the Twi’lek. And she doesn’t know it herself. She probably never will.

As Girkin leaves the most active place, he enters a quiet room. Four men and two women sit silently at discoloured chairs as they bend over their shining blasters and detonators. One of them notices Girkin’s heavy footsteps and raises his head. 

The man instantly raises from his chair. “Officer on deck!”

Almost instinctively, the rest put their weapons aside and stand up, turning around and facing commander Girkin. Their hands are tightly behind their backs. Girkin stops by, glancing shortly at them as he reads their eyes. They’re cold, stern and calculative. Their eyes do not flinch as they are as sharp and unyielding as their blasters. Their uniforms show no regiment sigil, not even a number. These are not ordinary soldiers. These are shadows made from flesh, trained to operate where others would fail.

Girkin regains eyecontact with the captain. “Captain Vasily. Are your men prepared for the operation?”

The man nods. “Yes, commander,” he barks, sternly. “Tonight, we shall secure the fall of Vaulent 6. We are ready to give our lives tonight.”

A crooked, proud smile forms on Girkin’s face as he slams his hand on the captain’s shoulder. He gives him a curt nod. “Make the Alliance proud.”

The officer smiles as well. “Absolutely, sir. Will do.”

Girkin pulls back his hand. “Now, before your departure - and keep this off the book - do not attempt to contact any Rebel officer here. I do not think she gives a crap ton about your operation tonight, but she might endanger it. Attempting to contact us here might raise her alarm bells. You’re going dark until you arrive at the rendezvous. Is that understood?”

“Yes sir,” the captain barks.

For a last moment, Girkin looks Captain Vasily deep in the eyes. He has chosen him to carry out this operation because only few have the balls and the experience to do so. 

Kishtung is not the only one to have plans. As his smile crookens, he knows Kishtung is not going to be the hero, but rather, the bait. He needs her to draw all of the Imperials out. Once they take the bait, this Rebel ghost regiment will strike from within the shadows.

If it all goes to plan, then the fall of Vaulent 6 will be guaranteed. And knowing what he’s willing to put at risk, Girkin knows for certain; this forsaken moon, the Empire’s bastion in the Mid-Rim, will fall in flames.

No doubt it will. 

And though he risks losing a valuable ally, it is a risk worth taking, regardless of her being a Jedi. Kishtung would never know how much of it would rest on her shoulders.

Chapter Text

Coming out of the blue-white tunnel of Hyperspace, a Lambda-class shuttle enters the Gorathion-system. With the large planet of Vaulent Prime looming over it, a smaller orb, Vaulent 6, barely skims its shadow.

The floor rattles slightly as General Veers gazes out of the viewport. He fiddles with a lighter in his fingers on the table. Two glasses of strong booze lie next to him. The layer of dark brown liquid trembles a little. The unyielding view of Vaulent 6 is cold as his focus shifts to the mission ahead. While Night Force director Kirbley has vowed to follow through with orders from the Imperial High Command, it is to be seen whether they have been effectively put into place. If not, then Kirbley’s leadership is no more and a replacement will soon be assigned to take over the project.

Across from him, Colonel Lubhaumer gently puts his computer into a cold, metal suitcase. The insignia of the Imperial Department of Military Research shines boldly on its front. Lubhaumer is a middle-aged man with stern eyes, a bald, wrinkled head, and a tight, white uniform with the shimmering crest of IDMR. This is the man who supervisioned Project Seraph Null. It researched into the complete brain rewiring of soldiers to turn them into unstoppable machines. Soldiers under his command knew no emotion, no empathy, no feeling, except for burning hatred for rebellion. Though its soldiers spiralled into chaos, its results would have been useful had High Command given it more funding.

At the time, General Veers was not the head of the Imperial Army. Had he been, he would have ensured all the funding the Army had in its pockets. Looking back at what his past superiors had done, his chest fills with disdain. His fists clench tightly. These Rebels would have been crushed in an instant, had Project Seraph Null and its attempts to create mindless soldiers been funded well enough.

This whole war may have never happened, had supersoldiers, teen or adult, been swarming the battlefields.

When Doctor Kirbley and his father came to meet him and the Supreme Commander at Coruscant, Project Seraph Null could be reborn but in a smaller, more controlled confinement. 

He remembers that, at first, he did not want to fund Night Force initially. It wasn’t a research department that was leading it. It was the Navy with the admiral of the Eagleclaw Fleet that stood at the front. After the Three Kashyyyk Campaigns when the Army was left to eat dust three times in a row, he had little trust in the Navy. Even if they had the capabilities to develop the Night Force project, Veers had his blood already sucked out by those naval leeches. 

Veers fingers slip to his datapad. The screen flashes and shows paragraph after paragraph, detailing the first status report of the Night Force project. The first results were promising, and Veers realised there was a chance. He could undo what his past superiors had done. The Empire could be saved. The Rebels could be crushed. He had high hopes, and now, Veers looks forward to seeing it be met. 

However, time is not on their side. If Kirbley fails to deliver the expected results in a tight time frame, Veers may be forced to replace him. The war effort doesn’t sit still. It needs better soldiers now harder than ever.

The lock of Lubhaumer’s suitcase clicks and he puts it on the chair next to him. His eyes draw to the viewport as well as the sun bathes his face in cold light. 

A faint sneer curls his lips. “I’ve seen his history,” Lubhaumer begins. “Doctor Kirbley was indeed the right man to study the foundation of his project. But he should have never been given leadership over the entire project. The Night Force initiative should have been in IDMR’s hands from the start.”

General Veers eyes draw sharp as he glances at him, pressing his lips into a thin line.

“Scientific experience or not,” Lubhaumer adds, his tone dripping with disdain, “he does not belong in the realm of military leadership and development.”

Veers raises an eyebrow. “The choice was deliberate, Colonel.” He grasps the glass and sips the booze, feeling it burn in the back of his throat, and puts it back on the table with a light thud. “It may be disdain, but the Night Force project had to be ruled by a man between two departments. Without it, the Army and the Navy would endlessly fight over it, demanding a greater portion of Night Force soldiers than the other, while the Emperor needs a new generation of troopers. A pragmatic - and perhaps resistant - civilian turned out to be critical for the project.”

Lubhaumer snorts silently. “In practice, it is a folly that delays progress, General. The IDMR does not waste time with politics or taste. Had the Night Force project been assigned to us, there would have already been teenage super soldiers fighting for the Imperial flag on Mon Cala. The Empire’s reign there is falling as we speak.” He shakes his head dismissively. “IDMR would’ve delivered results by now.

Veers tilts his head slightly, regarding Lubhaumer with a measured gaze. Though he acts highly critical, and perhaps, a little arrogant, Veers finds value in Lubhaumer’s view. Had Night Force not required the intensive cooperation between the Army and the Navy, IDMR would have surely delivered results by now indeed. IDMR has a history with military research and development. Kirbley does not. 

However, one with no history does not mean he cannot make history. Kirbley can prove himself he can do the task and act like a military officer under command while remaining a level-headed civilian.

“Results, Colonel, is why you are here,” Veers responds. “Project Seraph Null of yours was, on paper, a success. Had it been given more funding and foundation, it would have made the ultimate soldier. See Doctor Kirbley’s potential failures as your re-emergence, Colonel. If his results are lacking, all of Night Force will be yours. But do not assume that it will. Until I see the project’s progression with my own eyes, Night Force stays where it currently is.”

A smirk appears on Lubhaumer’s hard face, but there is hardly warmth behind it. “General, if the project is mine, I shall bring the best, most efficient killing machines.” He folds his arms with pride shimmering in his dark pupils. “Night Force will come to IDMR eventually. It is only a matter of time.”

Before Veers can respond his female aide approaches him from the corner of his eye. Her black hair is tied in a gentle bun, slightly off to the side. Her strands shimmer in the dim lighting of the cabin, sprayed with the soft scent of orchid gloss oil. Her eyes sparkle like two, blue stars in the void; the finest of the Empire’s aides. 

“Gentlemen, we have entered Vaulent airspace and are preparing for final descent.” With a smile on her face, the aide gently sweeps her hand towards the two, empty glasses of booze. “Should I take these away for you?”

Veers presses his lips with a steady gaze. “Yes, please, Annikae.”

With a playful nod, the aide sweeps the metal tablet from the table so gently and swift that the glasses on top do not even rattle. Her shimmering eyes lock onto Veers.

“Are you gentlemen in need of anything else?” Her gaze sweeps to the other side of the table.

Lubhaumer leans forward. “May I have today’s issue of the Corellian Times , please.”

The aide nods delightedly. “Of course, I will be with you in a minute.” She walks away with the tablet and quickly returns with a bleak datapad in her hands, as thin as a paper sheet. “Here is your paper, sir. Are you in need of suggestions?”

Lubhaumer gives her a curt nod as he takes the datapad from the aide’s hand. “That would be useful.”

The aide inhales deeply. “Well, on page fortytwo,” she starts, “you can find the heroic story of a Navy fighter pilot who saved a starliner from pirates, fighting a six hour enduring battle while being outnumbered ten to one. A thrilling story of a brave man, I would say”

Lubhaumer gives her a short smile and a nod. “Thank you.”

The aide smiles, too. “Have a nice read. I will be back with you when we land,” and she leaves the two behind.

Trailing her with his eyes, Veers shifts his gaze to Lubhaumer. The man holds the datapad before him in one hand as the blue screen lights up in his face. 

Lubhaumer’s eyes shift to him. “Making history in the books…,” he exhales, drawing out each word deliberately. “At the end of the day, someone is going to go down in history as either the fool or the competent. A civ or IDMR.”

Veers gives him a curt nod as his eyes drift to the viewport. Vaulent 6’s verdant landscapes are scarred by sprawling cities of concrete and light as the moon looms ahead. 

“We shall see,” he grunts. “We shall see…”

***

“Peyton, report.”

Roslin’s voice crackles from Peyton’s wristlink as she walks past the glass railing, looking down at the floor below. Her hand gently slides over the cold, metal edge of the railing as crowds of travelers hurry past, their footsteps echoing against the polished, marble floor tiles. The bustle of Capital Stargate hums around her as Peyton’s sharp gaze sweeps over the crowds of people walking criss-cross through the terminal. To the unprepared eye, today seems like any other busy day at Vaulent’s largest spaceport. But Peyton’s eyes scan intensively for anything out of place. Beside her, Ashara does the same. So far, nothing seems out of the ordinary.

Peyton moves her wristlink to her chin. “Nothing so far, commander.”

The incendiary bombs hidden in her backpack rattle a little. Peyton’s eyes dart from crowd to crowd on the floor below her. Aside from just being a lower floor, it is also the killzone. Once Kishtung commences her attack with force, the squad will draw her to this point. Once Kishtung is in the right position, Peyton and Ashara will bombard her with firebombs from above, overwhelming her in an instant. If Peyton’s assumptions are correct, if that lightsaber is vulnerable to fire, the tactic should work.

“Understood,” Roslin’s voice crackles. “Ecklund, report.”

Outside on the sidewalk of the main avenue leading to the spaceport, Ecklund patrols the roadside parking lots. It is the only way in and out of Capital Stargate, which makes it heavily guarded as well. Scattered around, there are security checkpoints with the eyes of Spaceport Security watching everything closely. Between every 20 parking lots, there is such a checkpoint. Heavily guarded and well manned, but still unprepared for the calibre of such a Rebel attack coming closer. As such, her eagle eyes snap from speeder to speeder, man to man, ensuring that nothing gets past her.

A gentle breeze blows over head as the faint hum of starships lifting off echo from behind the massive, main terminal. Speeder cabs drive past her as she squeezes herself through a crowd of travelers. Nothing too out of the ordinary as well.

The fiery sun prickles in her eyes and Ecklund feels a sneeze about to erupt from deep within her nose. And then, she lets out a sneeze for all to hear over the comm channel, thundering like a thermonuclear explosion.

“Sorry,” Ecklund wheezes, the prickle slowly subsiding.

From the other end, Roslin erupts into a soft chuckle. “Allergic to people?”

Ecklund smirks. “Probably. Anyway, nothing to see here.” Her voice remains steady as she stays alert.

Meanwhile, Eva and Daxan roam the arrivals terminal of Capital Stargate. Roslin is elsewhere in the terminal, asking from anyone for status updates through their wristlinks.

As Eva squeezes herself through a crowd of travelers, she steps into an open area. Suspended in the air are two gigantic holograms, displaying the departure and arrival times of starships. The flight digits of three starships are red, flickering as quickly as her heart is pounding in her chest. Nervously, she taps with her fingers on her hilt in which her old but reliable E-10 blaster lies. 

Maybe it wasn’t good thinking of her to bring a concealed blaster into one of the busiest spaceports on the moon. Yet, Spaceport Security does not seem to bother. Do their security droids see them as Imperial soldiers? Her eyes dart to a dark KX security droid, standing near the check-in area and the baggage handlers. Its white, glowing eyes sweep over the terminal. It does not seem to be bothered by Eva’s weapon.

However, her nerves remain to boil her alive, and Eva’s tapping on her holster grows louder. Her breath comes in shallow bursts.

If she has thought everything out well enough, then there is no doubt that Kishtung will attack Capital Stargate today. Everything in the plan has to go perfect. But… What if the incendiary bombs - the trap - won’t work? What if the KX security droids become a danger to her once the Rebels attack? They might see her as an unauthorised, armed person, like a Rebel insurgent. What would it do to her? Rip her apart? Punch a hole through her chest with its steel fist? Shoot her apart?

Eva glances at the KX droid again. Its eyes suddenly snap onto her, and Eva’s eyes dart away to the floor with shivering hands. Eva tries taking deep gasps, filling her lungs with cold air. She tries to shake off the burning thoughts, but they remain to keep her on edge. 

This plan has too many hinges to her likings, but she doesn’t have much of a choice now. She can’t retreat to think of something better. She can hear a distant clock faintly ticking. 

Daxan brushes her shoulder, standing silently beside her. His shadow looms over her as Eva’s eyes remain locked on the floor, seeing the silhouettes of travelers turning into vague shadows rushing past her. Then, she feels two, warm fingers prying open her clenched fist. She slowly opens them and sees they are Daxan’s fingers, locking her hand in a tight embrace.

For a moment, the weight lifts from her shoulders a little. The cold air races into her lungs.

“Everything will go fine,” Daxan speaks, softly.

Eva inhales deeply. She glances down and notices the tremble in Daxan’s hand as well. She lets out a smirk. “At least we go in high on nerves together.”

Daxan chuckles, lightly. “Can’t help myself either.” He looks up with conviction in his eyes. “But, we’ve got this. I mean, I’m here with VSRC kriffing 006, the best of the galaxy. Can’t go wrong.”

Eva snorts. “Don’t get yourself too confident, though. You might do something you’re gonna regret later.”

Daxan takes some deep gasps of air as he glances at her and nods. The nervousness shines strongly in his pupils. “Yeah, got it.”

With conviction, they give each other a comforting nod. Then, Ecklund’s voice crackles on the comm channel, erupting from her wristlink. 

“Wait… There’s something.” Ecklund’s voice is laced with suspicion. It’s slow, drawing out each word.

Eva’s eyes draw to her wristlink, a light flickering at the rhythm of Ecklund’s words. Her heart pulsates in her throat.

“What is it?” Roslin’s voice crackles.

Meanwhile, Ecklund’s eyes narrow on a white, weathered hovervan that just pulled up near the foremost security checkpoint. It is the first checkpoint speeders pass, and as such, the first line of defense. Slowly, Ecklund moves closer, cautiously. Her light footsteps barely echo against the concrete tiles. 

A cold breeze blows over the parking lot as Ecklund raises her wristlink. “A maintenance van just pulled up. Parked it near a security checkpoint. Driver got out, and walked off. Doesn’t feel right.”

“How?” Roslin’s voice crackles. “Any van can park at the front.”

“Yeah, but,” Ecklund stammers, “contractors check in at the utility checkpoint, not here at the front. Should I investigate?”

“Yeah,” Roslin responds. “Be careful.”

Ecklund switches off her wristlink as she slowly approaches the van. As her eyes scan it, she notices it’s an older model of the eons-old Metrocab. They were initially built as automated taxis, but some saw other values in them and retrofitted them into manned cargo vans and utility trucks. Ecklund has seen them before at Steergard Naval Yard when she was barely a child. Father took her to the site for the annual profit presentation. At the same time, he presented the future, and announced to outphase the Metrocabs in favour of a better model.

She was eight, days before everything went wrong. And everything that went wrong, was 5 years before the actual Rebel airstrike that got her a place at the Academy.

Stuck in the feelings, Ecklund shakes her head, brushing off the rising memories, and she inspects closer. The side of the sleek van bears the mark of a maintenance service. Anything broken? There is someone to call , the slogan reads. The logo bears a comic drawing of the Emperor with a screwdriver in his hand.

Nothing on the surface seems to be wrong about it, but something still sets her on edge, and Ecklund can’t place the feeling. She tilts her head with uncertainty, clenching her jaws. What’s so mysterious about you?

Then, a deafening explosion rips through the avenue behind her. Shaking, Ecklund spins around as a ball of fire erupts into the air. Flames spew out of a burning wreckage further down the avenue, consuming nearby speeders and a checkpoint. Screams fill the space as people run away in panic.

With her heart pounding in her chest, Ecklund watches as another explosion erupts from the avenue. A van, seemingly parked at random, bursts into fiery chaos. Shrapnel flies in all directions as security officers are thrown on the ground. 

“Ecklund, what are those explosions?” Roslin shouts through the comm, her shaking voice laced with panic.

Ecklund remains silent, freezing to the ground as her eyes dart to another van. It, too, erupts in flames as its wreckage flies into the air for a brief moment, and crashes onto the sidewalk, crushing a screaming person who got knocked to the ground by the initial explosion. His body vanishes behind the flames.

Slowly, as a chain reaction of explosions wave over the avenue, Ecklund realises the pattern: vans have been left all over the avenue to explode, each vehicle deliberately rigged. With fear shivering her bones, Ecklund jolts around to the van she’d been investigating moments before. A red light pulsates ominously from below, the intervals between each flash growing shorter and shorter. She’s merely meters away from it, and it’s about to explode.

Ecklund’s nerves explode. “No,” she gasps.

She spins on her heel, trying to leap clear, but almost instantly, the van behind her bursts into flames. The blastwave hurls her into a parked landspeeder and crashes into its windshield. The glass shatters on impact and her body slumps motionless, blood streaking down her face.

Eva’s eyes snap to Daxan. A monotone beep wails from her wristlink, followed by a screeching static noise, interrupted by Roslin’s voice, shouting Ecklund’s name. The glass of the terminal rattles as the floor shakes by the explosions outside. Through the windows, shadows of rising fireballs enshroud the terminal in darkness. A ripple of panic waves through the hall as crowds of travelers rush away from the outside, the panic etched on their faces as they bump into Eva’s shoulders. Children cry, adults scream in panic. The cries and the pounding footsteps of stampedes drown the overhead announcements out. Clouds of smoke rush into the terminal, causing everything to fade before Eva’s eyes, except for Daxan. 

The shock shimmers in his eyes as he struggles to open his mouth.

“Is it happening?” he mutters, at last.

With teary eyes, Eva slowly nods. The explosions outside did not ‘just’ happen. It’s the start of Kishtung’s attack. It’s the opening shot.

Eva taps on her wristlink with a heavy hand. “Commander, it’s starting.”

“Dank ferrik,” Roslin’s voice erupts. “Everyone, get into position!”

“Got it!” Eva shouts. She glances at Daxan as her hand reaches for her holster and takes out the blaster. “Let’s go.”

Eva and Daxan start running to their assigned position. It is exactly in the center of the main terminal where the large entrance hall lies. It’s the most strategic place in the facility, and thus, the place where Peyton and Ashara will lay the fiery trap.

Eva squeezes her way through crowds of people, rushing to safety as they carry their luggage and crying children. She tries to think about the plan, the trap, but her thoughts sway to Ecklund and the explosions. Did one get her? Is she, now, lying somewhere on the ground, unconscious, or even dead? Bleeding out? The panicking thoughts flicker through her mind as her hands grip on her blaster, squeezing it until her knuckles turn white.

Eva emerges onto an open plaza - the killzone - that directly leads to the large entrance gate of the terminal. She runs towards the center, spins around her heel, and gazes up at the floor above her. From the catwalk above her, she sees the horrified faces of Ashara and Peyton, their hands clenched onto the handrails and gazing back at her, almost unresponsive.

Eva looks at Peyton and gives her a nod. Ready?

Peyton swallows heavily and nods back. A shimmer of assurance reflects from her eyes.

Ready.

Roslin races into view, sprinting towards her and entering the plaza, gasping relentlessly. “Okay, okay,” she pants, her pupils wide. “Change of plan. We get Ecklund the kriff out of there, got it?” The words race out of her mouth.

“Yes sir,” Eva cries.

Roslin nods quickly and glances up at the catwalk above her. “Peyton, Ashara, remain in position,” she shouts. “Hold back any Rebel that tries to enter through.”

“Got it,” Peyton shouts back.

Roslin glances briefly at Daxan and then at Eva. They give each other a curt, assuring nod, and they start sprinting to the entrance door. They rush past people running away from the chaos combusting outside. Eva runs outdoors and crashes into a plume of smoke, fading out the sun. She can feel each particle prickling on her tongue and her throat clogs up. Eva runs onto the sidewalk of the avenue. Debris is scattered everywhere as the flames spew out of burning wreckages, jumping from speeder to speeder, swallowing everything whole. Suitcases, bags and trolleys have been left behind on the sidewalk, abandoned by their owners in a hurry. Frantically, Eva scans with her eyes, searching for Ecklund while her heart pounds in her chest.

She bounces frantically on her feet. Ecklund, Ecklund, Ecklund, where are you? 

Then, from the corner of her eye, a speeder speeds out of its parking lot. Its engine screeches as Eva spots a lifeless body lying on its hood with its head against the cracked windshield. She notices the braided hair, the round, shimmering glasses sliding over the metallic hood and clattering on the ground, the pale arms. It’s Ecklund. And the driver is about to take-off with Ecklund’s body still on the hood.

“There she is!” Eva cries.

She has to stop him before Ecklund falls off of the speeder and suffers horrible wounds - possibly several broken bones, if she doesn’t have broken bones already.

Eva rushes towards the landspeeder and waves with her hands, trying to get the driver’s attention. “Wait!” she cries.

But the driver pounds on the accelerator in sheer panic and shrieks past her, nearly hitting her with the mirror. Eva’s heart plummets as Ecklund’s body tumbles off the engine hood and hits the pavement with a sickening thud, rolling around lifelessly.

“Dank ferrik,” Eva mutters, and she rushes to Ecklund’s body. 

As the girl lies on her stomach, Eva rolls her onto her back. To her horror, she sees her face is covered in blood and wounds. Her eyes are shut and her glasses are nowhere to be seen. The plan has not even started yet, and already, they are one man down. The squad has already suffered from a near-casualty.

Eva drops to her knees, holding onto Ecklund’s shoulders. “Ecklund, wake up!” she mutters into her ears.

Daxan kneels behind Ecklund’s head, prepared to lift her and drag her away. His eyes move frantically from wound to wound on her face.

Roslin kneels beside her, gasping. “We have to get her inside,” she gives Daxan a nod. “Lift her-”

A thunder shakes the ground. Screams erupt from afar as Eva gets up. Security officers run away as at the end of the avenue, her eyes land on a heavily armoured truck crashing through the debris-laden road. It plows over the remains of burning wreckages as the flames spill over the tarmac. Blasterfire erupts as Eva notices Rebel insurgents hopping from vehicle to vehicle, shooting down fleeing officers. The Rebels have begun their siege.

Eva’s heart pounds quicker than it can keep up as she turns to Daxan. “Get her out of here,” she wheezes.

Daxan’s arms slide between Ecklund’s armpits and lifts her up from the ground. Her head lolls lifelessly around like a doll. “Got it, I’ll get her to safety.”

Roslin curses under her breath. “Just… bring her away from the action, got it?” 

“Got it,” and Daxan carries Ecklund away, her head lolling to the side, disappearing into the twisting smoke. 

The armoured truck grinds to a halt in the middle of the road, snapping lightpoles as if they are toothpicks. 

With a pounding heart, Eva crashes with her back into a stone planter with Roslin dropping to her feet next to her. Clenching her blaster, Eva takes one, big gasp of air and raises her weapon. She puts the barrel on the edge of the planter. Her crosshair lands on a Rebel rushing out of the armoured truck and fires, hitting him in the chest.

Roslin bumps her shoulder into her, forcing Eva to retreat into cover. 

“Eva, where’s that Twi’lek?” Roslin cries. Blasterfire screeches over her, making her voice barely audible.

Eva shrugs. “I don’t know!”

“Well, shit, we need her here if we want to use the trap!” Roslin shouts. 

For a moment, as the rain of blasterfire hurdles over her, hitting police officers fighting back further along the avenue, doubts rise in her mind. Eva thought Kishtung would lead the attack like a knight leading the battalion into battle. But she’s not. Is she wrong? Did Eva make an error when planning this out?

Almost as quickly as the doubts arise, Eva shakes her head. “She’ll be here,” she cries. 

“She better be!” Roslin barks as another shot ricochets off the planter. “Now, come on, we have to push ‘em back. Those cops are sitting Mynocks!”

“Yes sir,” Eva cries. 

Clenching her blaster until it hurts, Eva peeks over the edge of the planter. Her finger hovers above the trigger as her eyes land on a sea of blasterfire. Rebels flood the avenue, storming through defense after defense. Her crosshair lands on a Rebel firing at a CPD officer taking cover behind a landspeeder. The sparks swirl in the air, but her finger doesn’t pull the trigger. 

Does it matter if I shoot? One, two, three Rebels? Ten? It wouldn’t even matter.

Slowly, Eva recognises the Rebels hold supremacy. They’re outnumbered…

***

While the screeches of blasterfire echo through the sky, Daxan carries Ecklund into a desolate alley, far from the battlezone. With a worried heart, he glances at her, hoping she has woken up by now. However, her eyes are still shut and her head wobbles from side to side. Her ragged breath comes out in short, silent bursts. The crimson blood seeping out of her wounds streak down her chin. Concern flickers through his mind. What should he do with her? He doesn’t have any medpacks to cover her wounds.

His feet start burning and Daxan stops in his tracks. Gently, he drops Ecklund on the ground, laying her back against the metal wall of a storage building. Her head drops and her arms flop on the ground as if she’s gone. Daxan drops to his feet with a pounding heart and gazes at Ecklund, unsure of what to do. Should he leave her behind? The squad might need him now that they’re with one man less.

An explosion erupts from afar, shivering the ground. Daxan feels a tremble down his spine. That explosion may have gotten one of them the same way one got Ecklund. Should he leave Ecklund and join the fight?

Daxan shakes his head. No. He can’t leave her behind. She’s wounded and unconscious. Of course he can’t leave her behind.

Suddenly, Ashara’s voice erupts from his wristlink. “Hey, dude, how’s Ecklund?”

He moves his wristlink to his chin. “It’s Daxan. She’s not doing great. What should I do? I can’t leave her behind.”

An uncomfortable sigh erupts. “Is she awake?”

Daxan leans forward and rests his hand gently on her cheek. His fingers draw to her eyelids, rubbing her skin, but Ecklund gives no sign of being awake at all. 

“Nah, she’s at Corellia,” Daxan sighs. “No sign of her coming back, too.”

“ t’Seka ,” Ashara growls. “Stay th-,”

The com channel floods with the awful screeches of blasterfire vibrating through his wristlink until a monotone hum erupts. A shiver ripples through his leather skin as the horns on his head, covered by his cap, grow colder. 

It’s exploding over there. It’s obvious that the squad needs his help.

His eyes dart to Ecklund’s shut eyes. Her chest slowly weaves at each faint gasp of air while distant explosions ripple through the sky. The window of a nearby building rattles at each shockwave erupting from afar.

Should he leave Ecklund behind? Should he leave her alone in an empty alley to help the others? Daxan closes his eyes, trying to silence his thoughts, but the call to help screams louder. She’ll be fine right?

He shifts his weight onto his toes, but before he stands up, Daxan stops himself. This girl is wounded and unconscious. Once she wakes up, she’ll be totally alone here with no one to help her out. No, she can’t leave her alone. It just feels wrong.

Then, a cold hand grasps his wrist. Daxan shudders with a gasp and his eyes dart to Ecklund. A shallow breath of air escapes from her mouth as her eyes are barely open. Her chest races up and down. 

A faint smile forms on his face as he leans forward. “Ecklund, welcome back to the moon of Vaulent 6. Good to see you breathing.”

Ecklund clenches her jaws as crimson blood drips from her chin, splashing on her chest armour. Her hand pinches Daxan’s wrist tightly as her lips shiver, her eyes narrow.

“Go,” Ecklund gasps.

Daxan recoils and clenches his jaws. “What? No, I can’t.”

“Leave me.” A cough erupts from her chest. “You’re of no use staying with me.”

Daxan shakes his head defiantly. “I can’t leave you. You’re leaking a hell lot.”

Ecklund’s eyes narrow as an impatient exhale escapes her nostrils. “Just… kriffin’... go,” she growls. 

Daxan presses his lips tightly with uncertainty. She must’ve hit the windshield of that speeder pretty hard to be this disoriented. Does Ecklund even feel the glass shards that are stuck in her face? Does she even know she’s bleeding? 

Then, a glimmer on Ecklund’s throat catches his eyes. A metallic necklace reflects the faint sunlight that pierces through the pillars of smoke cascading over them. An intricate symbol is etched into the metal, refracting the sunlight into every colour of the galaxy imaginable. Daxan’s pupils wide with shock as he recognises the crest almost instantly.

His fingers crawl to the necklace before Ecklund snatches his hand and pushes it away, her breath coming out in short, erratic bursts.

Daxan’s lips press tightly. “You know that… it’s not just any necklace, huh?”

Ecklund remains quiet as she reaches for her necklace and covers it with her hand. The colour in her sharp eyes shifts like she knows he’s noticed something he shouldn’t have. The colourful refraction disappears and Daxan pulls back slightly, his brows furrowing.

“No metal bends light like that,” Daxan mutters. “If I have to guess, only Aurodium does.”

Ecklund exhales sharply with discomfort. “Just go already.”

Daxan tilts his head. “Aurodium is not something just anyone can wear. A few pounds of that shinies can buy you an entire ship.” And then, it clicks in his mind. Daxan suddenly realises he’s not just talking to any girl. “You’re part of them, are you not?”

Ecklund’s jaws clench with displeasure. “Part of who?” she spits out.

Daxan snorts. “You know who.”

Ecklund swallows hard as her hand squeezes the necklace, trying to hide it from the world. Slowly, she shakes her head. “You’re clueless.”

“I don’t think I’m wrong, though,” Daxan mutters. “A soldier isn’t born with an Aurodium necklace. Not even the wealthy are. Only the-,”

Then, Ecklund’s hand snaps to Daxan’s uniform, snatching his collar and pulling him to her. Her shallow breath blows into his face. “Watch what you’re saying. I’ll pull the trigger if I have to.”

Suddenly, a cold blade cuts through his chest. Gasping, Daxan stares at Ecklund with a shiver of fear running through his spine until he swallows a knot through his throat. He nods, slightly. “Okay, I’ll shut up about the necklace,” Daxan murmurs.

Ecklund releases him and Daxan stumbles back. His hands tremble as he stares at her until he forces himself to get to his feet. “You sure you can hold?” he asks with a tremor in his voice.

Ecklund gazes at him with sharp eyes. “I am,” she growls, her voice laced with venom. “Now, go!”

Daxan gives her a nod and storms away towards Eva and the squad who’s in dire need of his help. However, as he steels himself for the warzone ahead, he can’t think of anything but Ecklund’s sharp voice. That Aurodium necklace Ecklund was wearing around her throat - it’s not just any necklace. It’s a sign of power. Significant power. Daxan is unsure who Ecklund really is. At first, he thought she was just a quiet kid but with extraordinarily sharp eyes. Now, he isn’t sure. No normal being wears an Aurodium necklace, not even the wealthy. She must be  a very special kid then. 

Who is Ecklund, actually?

***

As Eva ducks from blaster fire, a metallic pound pierces through the air like six Scout Walkers collapsing at once. Her stomach twists as Eva glances to her right. Clouds of thick smoke swirls like tornadoes. Fiery flashes erupt through the smoke. Dark silhouettes dash past objects in the distance, but they are too vague for Eva to recognise them.

A clearing in the smoke forms, and there, a KX droid stumbles onto the ground and against the bumper of a landspeeder. Sparks fly from its groaning servos as the droid’s arm slowly rises with a blaster clenched in its metal hand.

Then, emerging from the smoke like a specter, Kishtung strides forward. Her dark robes sway in the storm as she clenches her yellow lightsaber with two hands. Her blade is more red than before as if her lightsaber bleeds. The ash of the fire covers her lekku’s as Eva’s breath catches. Kishtung’s face is calm and composed amidst the chaos, her eyes narrower than the blade she’s holding as she strides towards the damaged droid. Eva spots the Artefact as it is tied with a strip to her shoulders. Her heart skips a beat. That’s the target and it’s right in sight.

As the droid raises its blaster, Kishtung pivots to the side and raises her lightsaber in a tight arc, holding it in the air, ready to slash. And within a gasp of air exiting Eva’s throat, the blade cuts through the droid’s shoulder. Sparks burst from the socket as its arm crashes to the ground. Before the droid can let out a mechanical scream of burning circuits, Kishtung steps forward, twists her wrists, and brings the lightsaber down, slicing the entire droid in half. Its head explodes out of its socket and crashes on the road, just inches away from her feet.

“Kriffing hell,” Roslin cries, gasping, her eyes landing on her. “Eva, is that her?”

A clog forms in Eva’s throat as she’s unable to speak, frozen to the ground. Kishtung flicks her wrist, angling her lightsaber in a ready stance. Suddenly, their eyes connect. Her head tilts towards Eva like a vengeful predator spotting its weak prey. For a moment, the blasterfire and the screams fade away, except for her own heartbeat pounding like artillery fire. 

In the dark pupils of Kishtung’s glowing eyes, Eva spots shimmers of fear as if the apex predator is held back by its own prey. Eva’s blaster drops from her hands, clattering on the ground.

And then, Kishtung’s eyes turn from fear into sheer determination as they narrow at her. Her jaws clench as Eva can see her sharp teeth pressing against each other. The little sunlight that manages to come through the smoke fades away in an instant. Not only is Eva the enemy, but the threat to Kishtung’s plan, too. And Eva can tell that Kishtung is coming to get her, to silence her for once and for all. Her hands clench the burning lightsaber even tighter. 

“Dank Ferrik,” Eva whispers, her voice shivering. “It’s her. And… we’re bait to her.”

Gasping, Roslin slams her hand on Eva’s shoulder. “Then let’s make use of that,” her voice tenses with conviction.

Gasping, Eva’s gaze burns through the smoke as her eyes linger to the Twi’lek. Kishtung spins her lightsaber and points it backwards into an attack stance. Amidst the chaotic fires, brought from the deepest layers of hell, Kishtung stands as an unstoppable monster. The flames and the sparks spewing out of the speeder wreckages and the destroyed droid lick at her burning robes. Can she be stopped at all?

Then, Eva remembers Eline. Kishtung still has her. And as long as Kishtung is alive, Eline’s fate is sealed. She has come this far. She can’t let herself drop to her knees because of her doubts. And then, as Eline’s sparkling blue eyes flash before her eyes, Eva’s eyes narrow with determination. Her fingers curl into fists.

Kishtung, you scum. You’ll get what you deserve.

Eva hits Roslin’s hand on her shoulder with her own and grasps her blaster from the ground.

“Get to the kill zone,” Roslin cries. “I’ll cover you!”

In an instant, Roslin rises from her cover and unleashes a barrage of blasterfire at the Rebel insurgents. Eva launches herself from her feet and sprints over the avenue to the entrance of the terminal building. She stops at the massive doorway, raises her blaster, and fires at the Rebels. In the corner of her eye, Roslin sprints towards her, vanishing behind her back as Eva retracts her blaster. 

Her eyes land on Kishtung. Her heavy footsteps echo off of the tarmac. Her lightsaber draws a glowing trail of molten stone over the avenue. Eva spins around and follows Roslin inside the terminal. It’s empty as the fire alarms wail. As Eva dashes past the abandoned suitcases and bags from travelers, she stumbles onto the kill zone. Glancing up, she sees Ashara and Peyton on the catwalk. The trap is about to be set.

“Soldier!” Kishtung’s voice erupts from behind her.

Spinning around her heel, Eva glances at Kishtung, raising her blaster in an instant. The Jedi is standing menacingly in the middle of the hallway. The glow of her lightsaber draws sharp shadows over her face. 

Kishtung snorts. “You don’t know when to stop, do you?” Her voice cuts through the electrified air. “You always follow me around no matter where.”

Eva swallows hard as all she can hear is her own heartbeat, pounding erratically.

“When will you learn it is futile to fight back?” Kishtung growls, the yellow-crimson glow of her lightsaber reflecting off of her shining, sharp teeth. 

Eva scoffs as a hint of anger combusts in her chest. “As long as you have my sister, I won’t stop,” she hisses. “I won’t stop until I have her and ten bodies at my feet.” Her finger crawls closer to the trigger as her eyes sharpen. 

Kishtung tilts her head viciously. “You think a blaster is going to help you all the way?”

Eva clenches her jaws. “I can always try.”

From behind her back, Roslin’s voice whispers at her. “Eva, the trap.”

Eva doesn’t respond as her eyes are fixed on the Twi’lek before her, but she knows the trap is near. Kishtung isn’t in range yet, but if she can draw her out to instantly slay her, to slash her lightsaber into her throat, it’s all done. It’s a risky move, but Eva knows it’s one she will have to take.

As she hears Roslin retreating slowly, her footsteps echoing lightly off the floor, Eva clenches her blaster. 

Sparks swirl from Kishtung’s burning robes as they sway in an insensible storm. The Artefact hangs from her shoulder like it is a grocery bag. “The love for your sister is priceless. Your own life even more so.”

Eva shakes her head. “I’ve made it this far, and I won’t stop now.”

“If you even think you can stop me,” Kishtung growls, “let me remind you that all you are to me is what the Empire was to the Twi’lek race, to my people: vermin. Rubble.”

“If so, why haven’t you done it yet?” Eva snarls, stepping back.

Kishtung moves. Her steps are slow but deliberate, coming closer as Eva steps back, remaining her distance and drawing Kishtung deeper towards the trap.

“Come on,” Eva mutters under her breath. “Just a little bit closer.”

But then, just paces away from the kill zone, Kishtung stops. She exhales sharply through her nostrils. “There is one thing that I appreciate about you, Eva,” she growls. “All of your droid-like soldiers here collapse at the sight of me. I slash their heads and it’s done.” 

While Kishtung’s words escape out of her mind as quickly as they enter through her ears, Eva curses under her breath. She has to push Kishtung over the edge to come and launch herself at her.

“Eva,” Kishtung continues. “You, on the other hand, are different. You make slashing feel like it’s rewarding, like it’s no longer a chore to get to the next step, but rather a liberation.” She balances her toes and slowly leans forward like a predator that’s about to launch forward.

“So I’m your dopamine, huh?” Eva snarls. “I feed your addiction.” Her eyes land on Kishtung’s burning robes. “Y'all Twi’leks are all the same: hungry for war while your bodies burn away.”

Kishtung’s eyes flare with fury, and in a heartbeat, she explodes forwards. Her footsteps pound on the floor as Eva gasps and stumbles backwards. Dank ferrik, she’s coming.

Eva pulls the trigger, firing at Kishtung. She spins her blade, deflecting the blasterbolts as she dashes towards her. Kishtung raises her lightsaber, its tip burning a hole in the dark sky and brings it down. Eva stumbles onto the floor as Kishtung’s lightsaber hurdles towards her, but then, an incendiary bomb hits the Twi’lek and explodes. Flames erupt in a blinding supernova. Eva dives away, dodging the flames licking at the floor as the heat roars to life. 

Kishtung cries out in shock as her robes catch fire. She stumbles back as her body erupts in flames. As Eva lies on the floor and pushes herself up, her eyes widen with shock. Peyton was right. The fire is working. Kishtung tries to extinguish the flames as her movements are wild and erratic. 

Then, the strips holding the Artefact hanging around the Jedi’s shoulder snap. Sparks fly down as the stone drops to the floor, punching a hole through the tiles of marble with a loud bang. 

Everything before Eva’s eyes freezes, except for the sparks swirling from the Artefact. She doesn’t hesitate and dives forward through the heat. Her fingers brush the stone as her chest slams into the floor.

“Got it!” Eva cries, clutching the Artefact tightly against her body. Scrambling to her feet, Eva stumbles away.

“No!” Kishtung cries, crawling over the floor, her voice shivering as the flames die down.

Another incendiary bomb hits her. The alcohol splashes onto her and light afire, erupting in flames once again and forcing Kishtung further back.

A crooked smile forms on Eva’s face. Almost everything is going excellent, even with one man down.

A hand crashes on her shoulder and Eva is pulled back by Roslin. “Follow the plan, get going!” she cries.

Eva nods at her. She glances back at Kishtung as the flames spread. The heat of the flames warm up her heart. Her enemy is done for, and seeing her burning until all that will be left are her bones makes her smile grow.

As Roslin draws her blaster and aims at the Twi’lek, Eva turns on her heel and sprints away. Her heart pounds in her chest as she glances down at the Artefact, squeezed between her arms and her chest. This little stone is hiding a power that’s capable of destroying entire districts, and now, that amount of force, concentrated in something the size of a floor tile, is in her hands, squeezed against her chest. Now, all she has to do is bring it to safety. Escape Capital Spaceport and stumble into the hands of the ISB barreling down the avenue. Only then, Kishtung’s downfall is assured and victory in reach.

Meanwhile, the flames spreading over the floor below her burn through Peyton’s eyes as her fingers firmly grasp another bottle of booze with a lighter in her other hand. 

Peyton glances briefly at Ashara who has another firebomb in her hand. As they make eyecontact, Peyton smiles. All the crucial parts of the mission are going according to plan. All that rests now is to burn Kishtung alive. Gazing downward, Kishtung struggles to deflect Roslin’s blasterfire while her lavender-purple skin has blackened by the fire. She’s almost at her knees.

Luckily, the Empire has already quite some experience with burning aliens. Peyton’s smile crookens for a moment at her intrusive thoughts, which she quickly presses away. 

“Peyton,” Roslin’s voice erupts from her wristlink. “Light her up! It’s time for that alien to turn into ash.”

Peyton smirks. Roslin is definitely holding herself back at Twi'lek. “Yes sir.”

Her fingers clench the bottle as she lights up the piece of rag sticking out of the lid. The flame dances around the glass edges as she raises her hand. She can already see the Twi’lek letting out a final scream as the flames consume her whole, putting all of this to rest. They’ve gone AWOL for this fight, and she cannot go home without victory. What will her superiors do to her when this fails? She and the squad have already broken numerous protocols for which heavy reprimands stand. Would they demote her from Lieutenant Commander? Would they kick her out of the Academy?

No. She can’t fail the Empire. That Twi’lek, whoever she may really be, will burn until nothing is left of her body. 

Squeezing the bottle firmly, Peyton launches the firebomb at Kishtung. The bottle arcs through the air as its flames trail behind it like an asteroid coming to strike the planet. Just as it nears Kishtung, her hand snaps upward and, as if time freezes, the firebomb stops mid-air. Kishtung’s narrowing eyes snap to Peyton as the flames coming out of the bottle’s lid dances around the Twi’lek’s eyes. 

Her heart stops. Is it… still… gonna hit her? Did it just freeze mid-air?

A shiver runs through Peyton’s spine until Kishtung’s hand snaps forward. Instantly, the firebomb rockets towards her and before Peyton can respond, the bottle crashes into the guardrail, shattering into a thousand pieces. The explosion erupts in a blinding inferno of fire. Peyton screams and crashes into the floor. The flames devour her as they crawl up her arms and chest, blistering her skin mercilessly. Pain wracks her body as Peyton’s legs kick and thrash against the hard floor. Her hands claws at the flames, trying to put them out, but they bite deeper into her skin like hungry monsters.

Hearing the screams erupting from above, Roslin’s eyes snap to the shattered guardrail as shards of glass rain down like falling daggers. Her blaster trembles as everything turns blurry, her nerves igniting with fear.

Roslin’s heart thunders in her chest. Was that… Peyton? 

In the corner of her vision, Roslin catches the waving robe of Kishtung with trailing sparks, dying down before they touch the floor. The Twi’lek gazes at the screams above, until those sharp, glowing eyes snap to her. Roslin’s heart stops, paralysed as the fading cries of Peyton echo through her mind. 

In a heartbeat, Kishtung’s hand snaps forward and an invisible force slams into her chest like a hovertrain, ripping Roslin from her paralysis. Her blaster clatters on the floor as she’s hurled backwards. With a scream, Roslin crashes into the wall, forcing the air from her lungs. Her body clatters on the floor, leaving with pain spreading all across her limbs. Groaning with agony, Roslin tries to move her arms, trying to get up and fight back, but her limbs only move inches. 

Amidst her thundering heartbeats, Roslin registers the heavy steps of Kishtung moving past her. The floor trembles at each pound of her feet. As the footsteps fade away, Roslin then realises Kishtung is not just walking away. Her objective to escape the moon has no longer become primary but secondary goal. Instead, the footsteps fade in the direction of where Eva has run away with the Artefact. 

Her blood runs cold. She’s coming after her. With clenched teeth, Roslin opens her eyes to the blurry walls of the terminal, cursing under her breath. 

“Alien piece of shit,” Roslin murmurs. As she slowly scrambles up, she moves her wristlink to her chin. “Peyton.”

Instead, Ashara’s voice crackles. “Peyt’s fine. Where did she go?”

With burning nerves, Roslin’s eyes snap to where Kishtung went - the furthest exit of the terminal stretching towards the horizon before her. Flashes of blasterfire screech through the hallway, lighting up the floor like lightning.

Roslin’s limbs shiver as she realises that the plan has derailed catastrophically. Not only did she lose Ecklund and Peyton, but now, Kishtung is storming towards Eva, to her next victim, and possibly, the first casualty of the squad. Her breath shakes as Eva curls up on the floor with the Artefact in her hand while Kishtung’s lightsaber slashes her in her throat. Eva’s final scream echoes through Roslin’s mind. Her eyes dilute as all the life drains away until her last gasp escapes her lungs and her body crumples to the floor, hearing her last heartbeat echoing into the darkness.

“She’s going after her,” she murmurs.

Roslin’s eyes swell up at the thought, until her hands clench into tight fists. Eva, I won’t let that happen to you. I won’t let her take you away.

Blasted Jedi, you shall burn like all others of your cursed kind!

Chapter Text

Run. Run. Run . 

There is nothing else Eva can think of as her screaming thoughts echo through her mind. She slams the doors open and runs out of the spaceport terminal. The Artefact is tightly squeezed under her armpit as the sour ash prickles in her nose. The echoing screeches of blasterfire echo from far and beyond as Eva’s eyes land on a lonely avenue heading out of Capital Stargate. 

She’s almost there. A smile forms on her face. If she reaches that avenue and makes it to the other end, this battle will be over before the night has fallen. With a little bit of fortunate timing, Eva will run directly into the hands of the ISB and the Army, rushing in to decimate the Rebel insurgents. Once they have the Artefact, Kishtung will have no chance of ever getting it back. This weapon is capable of destroying city blocks. The quicker it is with the authorities, the sooner Kishtung is defeated. 

Eva squeezes the Artefact under her armpit further. This has to get there no matter what. 

Her footsteps pound on the pavement as Eva dashes past burning wreckages of speeder cabs, until she stops in her tracks with her heart plummeting in her chest. Her feet skid over the tarmac, almost slipping off the edge as Eva stands before a gaping hole in the avenue, splitting the road in two. With the sweat beading on her forehead, Eva peers down. The drop might be three storeys high, and the distance between her and the other side of the road is at least a dozen speeder cabs in length. She won’t make the jump. 

Dank Ferrik. They must’ve blown this up to hold the Army back.  

Eva’s eyes dart around, searching if there’s a way to traverse the hole. She spots a light pole. It is bent, leaning towards the other end of the avenue. She can use that to jump to-, no. Too dangerous. She wouldn’t make it.

Eva curses under her breath. Maybe that speeder cab. It barely balances on the edge with its hood dangling down. No. If she’d step on it, she would move its center of weight. It would plummet down and its engine would explode along with her.

Come on, this plan can’t collapse here, right now. There has to be a way of getting to the other side.

Then, a sharp screech erupts from behind her. Eva spins around, her heart beating like artillery fire. Kishtung’s burning blade cuts deep into the metal torso of a KX security droid. Sparks erupt from its head as the Twi’lek’s head snaps to her. A shiver runs down her spine as Eva realises that the squad’s attempt at holding her occupied has failed. Did Peyton’s fire strategy only work temporarily? Doesn’t matter. She’s here.

And there’s no chance she’ll make it to the other side of the split avenue by jumping. She has to get away from her and keep the Artefact as far away as possible. She has to find another way.

Eva forces herself to run as she feels the burning eyes of the Twi’lek chasing her. She sprints off the avenue and onto the sidewalk, her mind trying to calculate another escape route as she runs aimlessly into a direction. She bolts into the terminal where the floor tiles crack under her boots. Eva glances over her shoulder with fear gripping her heart. The hallway behind her is desolate, devoid of anything but smoke, but she notices something. The darkness grows darker, and then, she spots a silhouette jumping from shadow to shadow.

“Dank Ferrik,” Eva wheezes.

Gasping, Eva’s eyes dart around. She has to get out of this terminal or this killzone is where she’ll find her fate. Eva spots a door, leading to a restricted area. Whatever that area may be, it may offer her a getaway route.

Eva pounds the door open and runs into a corridor, leading to a metal staircase. She runs down as a wall of cold air crashes into her face. Jumping off the last step and landing on the metal floor, Eva stops in her tracks. She’s below the terminal. Everywhere she looks, massive conveyor belts once carrying the luggage of passengers sprawl through a hall that seems to have no end in sight. This must be the baggage direction bay. Conveyors everywhere, filling the burning silence with hums, distracting movement of luggage, a room so large it has no horizon - Eva’s heart leaps. This might be the place to lose Kishtung’s chasing heels and get the hell out of here. 

Squeezing the Artefact in her armpit, Eva sprints through the alleys between the conveyor belts. Her footsteps pound below her as she frantically looks around, searching for some form of emergency exit. There has to be one nearby.

Then, a shadow. Eva halts and jumps to a pillar. Her back crashes into the concrete as her lungs burn in agony. Her heart pounds against the Artefact, squeezed between her arms and her ribs. Amidst the pounds of her heart, faint footsteps echo through the darkness. On the wall across from her, Eva spots a blurry shadow, a waving robe and a head with two lekkus, moving slowly and deliberately. 

Eva buries her face in her hands. Shit, she’s here.

Her eyes dart to her blaster, hanging from her belt. Eva snickers. Will that ever do a thing against her?

Eva knows she can’t fight her alone. She must escape. There is no alternative.

As the faint fire alarm upstairs echoes through the baggage direction bay, the demon’s footsteps shiver through the floor.

“Eva…” A sigh erupts from somewhere behind her. “I thought you knew better.”

Eva remains still, breathing as quietly as possible.

“Hiding isn’t a lasting strategy,” Kishtung continues. Her voice drifts between the belts.

Slowly, Eva shifts to the corner of the pillar and peeks over the edge. Between moving crates, she spots a dark shadow, moving around. She’s hunting her. Eva’s eyes dart around, frantically searching for a way out of this building. The longer she waits, the quicker she’ll find the end of it. With fighting being no longer an option now, Eva has to escape, make distance, and lose Kishtung’s shadow. But she knows that isn’t easy. One wrong step and she’s dead. Dank Ferrik. I need the others.

The footsteps grow heavier, as if a vengeful shadow morphs into a hungry beast, longing for blood to drink.

“Someone’s seconds are ticking away,” Kishtung murmurs, her voice echoing through the hall.

She rolls her eyes. Keep on GONKing, scum. At least it buys me some time.

Her eyes land on a computer console further away, a good hiding spot away from her. With burning nerves, Eva shifts onto her toes and sneaks to the computer console. Eva hurdles around the corner and pushes her back into the back of the desk, curling up as her heart pounds against her ribs.

The faint footsteps echo off the metal floor. Kishtung’s footsteps seem further away as she can hear her nerves burning below her skin, radiating a tense hum ringing in her ears, throbbing with each artillery blast of her heart. Eva squeezes the Artefact. 

Her fingers slip to her wristlink as she slowly moves it to her chin. Roslin, Peyton, Ashara, anyone - she needs help. She can’t escape alone. She can’t take the risk alone. 

“ Sssshh , anyone there?” Eva whispers.

Like a breeze of warm air, Roslin’s soft voice erupts from her wristlink. “I read you, Eva.”

Eva’s hands rush to cover its speakers, muffling as much sound as possible. Her breath trembles. “I need help, I’m stuck.”

Then, Eva jolts to a sudden stomp, echoing through the hall. What’s she doing? Turning every box upside down?

“Where are you?” Roslin asks.

Eva slowly leans closer to her wristlink. A ghost-like void looms over her, pulling onto every hair on her skin. From afar, the electrifying presence of the hunter puts her nerves on constant alert.

“I don’t know where,” Eva whispers, trembling. “I think… I’m in the baggage direction bay, below the terminal.”

“Eva, time is on neither of our side,” Kishtung growls with a taunting tone. “I long for freedom. I want to escape this forsaken moon before the authorities close in - with the Artefact.”

Listening, Eva gasps heavily, trying to cool down her lungs. Escape? I’m sure you won’t.

“And you… It will be a matter of time before the Force senses you. The shivers, the cold sweat, the ragged gasps.” Her voice then turns slow, deliberate and calculative. “Your fear is your blood. Your feelings are your wounds. And for a wounded soldier in battle, twilight nears.”

The lights above her flicker. 

“The same goes for Eline.”

Eva’s heart stops. Her stomach wrenches at hearing her sister’s name coming out of the snake. Eline? What about her?

“She’s resilient, but she can barely stand,” Kishtung continues. Her voice turns sharp, almost enraged. “Eva, her time is running out. I can kill you quickly, but before I’ve done that, Eline is already on the first step to the heavens.”

Eva’s eyes narrow. Her nails dig deep in her palms as her blood runs to a boiling point. Scumbag. You’re the reason she’s dying. You’re the kriffin’ reason she’s in so much agony. Knight of the so-called Light? Yeah, my kriffin’ ass.

Her lips twist with vengeance. “You’re a dead man,” she whispers, forcing each word out of her clogged throat.

Eva shifts to the edge and glances over the corner. Kishtung isn’t in sight - probably further away behind some conveyors or machinery. But she knows she’s here. These are close quarters. She may have a better chance at slashing a knife through Kishtung’s throat than elsewhere. And after she missed her chance at the Rebel lair, her fingers twitch, longing to feel that blood spilling all over the place, at last. 

Blood. 

Twi’lek blood. 

That sticky, crimson, copper substance. A drop, a puddle; nothing will be enough to compensate the torture Eline has gone through. 

“We don’t need to fight over the fact that she needs medical attention,” Kishtung snarls. “And she needs it fast. I made sure she’ll get it, because she’s nearby. I took her here.”

The hums of the conveyor belts stop, and Eva stares at the floor, her feet trembling with a burning mix of fear and anger. You… took her here? Where is she?!

The scream bubbles up before she can stop it, until she slams a trembling hand over her mouth. 

“She IS here,” Kishtung continues. “My men make sure she’s alive, until her time runs out. She’ll be released, but only when I have the Artefact, off-world.”

Eva’s hands squeeze the Artefact in her lap until her knuckles go paler than snow.

The hums of the conveyor belts stop as the lights vanish into a black hole, leaving Eva in darkness. Her chest tightens with bubbling panic.

“You’re lucky, considering I still have some patience left in me,” Kishtung snarls. “So here’s the deal. Hand over the Artefact, and Eline walks away in one piece.”

Eline… Or the Artefact. A violent shudder racks through her body as she clasps her forehead with a trembling sigh. Eline or the Artefact. Her mind starts breaking at the uncertainty. The Artefact is too important. If she loses it to the Rebels, the war might tip in the enemy’s favor. She can’t let that happen. She can’t let the Empire down. But Eline…

The last time Eva saw her, she could barely breathe. Her lungs were barely holding up as they were about to cave in. Eline, fragile and barely gasping, and then, alone and fading.

From the dark before Eva, a hot ray of light leaks through the walls, burning a hole in the floor, smoking, as the ground starts shivering. Eva’s eyes dart to the wall across from her. Pieces of concrete crash on the floor as it crumbles, shattering in a thousand bits as, through the holes, a bright star shines in the void. 

Peyton’s voice faintly echoes from her wristlink. “Wait, Eva, your sister’s here?”

Eva’s pupils grow as she spots a slab of stone orbiting the star burning through the walls. A small cube hovers above, its sides blackening by the surrounding flames. The rays of light burn through her retina.

Roslin’s voice crackles.  “Can we believe her?”

“Maybe we should?” Peyton responds. Her voice stutters with hums of static. “What difference can that stone make in the war, really?”

The star flickers, dying and fading. Faint whispers erupt from all the corners of her mind as Eva curls up on the floor, the tears splashing on the floor as her eyes burn with agony.

“I don’t want to find that out,” Roslin urges.

“Should we give up her sister for a little, Rebel victory?” Peyton argues, her voice tense. “What will it do against a hundred Destroyers?”

The flickering star lets out a last whisper, a sign of life, until it releases one, final burst of light. The walls fall like paper, the ceiling is ripped off as the sky above her turns fiery crimson. The blood of Eline splatters over the clouds as buildings around her are ripped from their foundations. The heat soars through her uniform, burning her skin as a mushroom cloud rises into the dark sky like a new-born star, looming over the burning graveyard with thundering rage.

This plan - recovering the Artefact and hoping Kishtung doesn’t kill her while she flees - has now become a fight against time since both outcomes hit her heart like a burning knife. If she hands over the Artefact, Vaulent 6 may be finished. The City. Its people - not just Imperial, but Vaulutian people. The Alliance has always been in a tight corner, but this slab of stone gives them the finishing tool they need to turn the tide into their favour. No more are they a resistance group, but a galactic superpower.

She might see Eline again, but for how long will she have her in her arms? Until the Artefact is exploited one, final time? Until Vaulent 6 and the Empire fall in the flames of the demons?

But if she follows the plan - getting this thing out of here - the price will be as large as seeing the world erupt in flames. 

As the tears stream down her chin, Eva clasps her forehead, feeling dizzy as the floor seems to drop. If she loses Eline, the world can erupt in flames regardless. What will everything else matter to her if her sister is no longer there?

The sparkling, blue eyes on her pretty face. Her long, blond hair waving the soft breeze, while her smile remains unwavering, even in the face of adversaries. 

If Eva follows the plan she came up with, the only time she’ll see Eline’s pretty face is in a white body bag on a trolley - the same where her parents lied in. The deep silence that swallowed her whole in the coroner’s room still echoes through her mind.

Her heart falls apart at the two options that lay before her, and Eva can’t choose. Whatever she’ll do, she’ll lose either way. 

A faint ray of light coming from the sun pierces through the smoke as the mushroom cloud rises higher and higher. For a moment, the sky turns blue again, and then, Eva realises it.

It is this or that, nothing else. But has life ever been like that, having to choose between two absolutes? Can’t she pick the middle ground? Can’t she punch a hole in the wall and make her own path? War is never fought by the rules, nor does it follow any given options. 

Her hands clench into tight fists. The walls of the baggage direction bay rise from the floor, its pieces flying back and restoring as it once was, before the Artefact and its star destroyed the city. And then, she’s back. The cold breeze rushes over her skin as the conveyor belts continue to hum. The lights above her buzz like insects.

Like calmth amidst the storm, Roslin’s voice crackles faintly from her wristlink. “Eva, you read me? You still there?” 

Eva slowly shifts her wristlink to her chin as her eyes become steady, gazing at her feet with determination. “I read you.”

A sigh of relief erupts from the other end. “What do you think? It’s about your sister, in the end.”

Eva’s jaws clench with fury. “We’ve got two options. We pick none. We don’t have to play by the rules.”

“What do you propose?” Roslin’s voice turns soft. 

“Y’all find Eline,” Eva whispers. “If she’s close, we can find her. I’ll need to buy myself some time here in the meantime.”

Her heart pounds with anxiety, knowing that buying her squad time to find Eline is a hard task.

“Understood. I’m coming down for you, Eva. Hang on tight,” and Roslin’s voice vanishes.

Eva drops her head against the console desk, letting out a faint, shivering sigh. So, change of plans: no longer is securing the Artefact a top priority. She has to buy time, keeping Kishtung busy with searching for her, while her squad comes to pull Eline out of the arms of the Rebels. 

Eva closes her eyes. A void pulls over her and the sounds around her - the humming lights, the faint footsteps - vanish into the pounds of her pumping blood. Her mind goes black as she focuses on the steady rhythm of her heart. Eva may be facing a strong opponent, but she has the mind. If she uses her swift movements and her intelligence, she might have a crucial advantage over Kishtung. Though she knows she can’t be sure of it, it is worth the try.

And perhaps it is the only thing she can try that won’t get her killed in an instant…

***

More and more Rebels keep flooding the site, hammering the remaining Imperial forces with relentless fire. Peyton, Daxan, and Ashara rush outside, giving the security forces a helping hand as they face Rebel insurgents invading the spaceport.

Peyton crashes with her back into a concrete barrier, keeping her head low as the blasterfire screech over her, hitting a Capital Police officer who couldn’t take cover in time. His body drops lifelessly on the ground as the colour in his eyes vanish in an instant. Gasping, Peyton squeezes the grips of her blaster until a fiery, aching sensation spreads over her arms like flames. Clenching her jaws until her teeth hurt with pain, Peyton flips her hands. The ruptured blisters on her bright red skin pulsate with each little twitch of her fingers, sending waves of pain through her burning nerves, as if her skin is tearing a part.

She can still see it happening all over again. When Peyton stood on the upper floor, staring at the firebomb, twisting and turning in the sky, she could not react when it hurled straight back at her. And before she could twitch, the firebomb burst and swallowed her in flames. When she burned, it felt horrible. Everywhere across her body where her uniform was the thinnest, her skin tore itself apart. The nerves in her legs became numb, until Ashara saved her with a nearby fire extinguisher, flooding her in a cold blanket of mist. The burn wounds that have remained ache with agony, having spread over hands and arms like a burning flower of bright red swelling. 

Peyton gasps sharply as her fingers curl inward, but even the slightest movement sends electrifying shocks of agony lancing through her nerves. “Dank Ferrik, I can’t even hold my blaster.” She glances at Ashara firing her blaster next to her. The screeches pound in her ears. “Hey, Ashara, you’ve got a med-aid?”

Ashara drops to the ground, dodging the blaster fire shrieking over her. She gives Peyton a nod as she swings her backpack onto the ground, taking a small, metallic box out and sliding it over the tarmac. “Treat yourself.”

“Thanks.” Peyton slides the medpack towards her. Opening the lid, there lie two wraps of bacta-patches and a pair of med-spikes. Frantically, she takes out the patches and wraps them around her hands, one by one. They press against her aching blisters, piercing her skin with cold bacta like ice.

Grasping the med-spike tightly in one hand, Peyton aims for the veins just below her wrist. Thoughts flicker through her mind. She’s never had to experience the feeling of having a med-spike smash into her skin. They say it’s a warm, almost entrancing feeling, a fleeting moment of pleasure; the best feeling a wounded soldier can ever have, aside from getting back to base and a warm shower. Would it really feel like that? After all, it has one, huge needle. And it has go straight into her veins. Her heart pounds with anticipation, unable to wait for the supposed moment of pleasure, though she is uncertain as well, unsure about the truth. There’s only one way to find out.

Slowly, Peyton grips the med-spike tightly and smashes it into her veins. A shock of warmth hits her nerves, spreading through her arm like molten gold. Peyton gasps as her muscles pull together as if electricity runs through her nerves. Her eyes feel like they’re about to pop out of her skull, until all of her limbs go loose. Her muscles slack and the world tilts sideways as it hits her. The med-spike tumbles from her grasp, clattering against the tarmac, as her mind floats in a haze of weightless euphoria.