Star Crossed

A real talk

Galen and Elya are back, tadam !

Her quarters resembled her cold mannerism more than her inner tumult. Not a piece of clothing out of place, only order. Given the small size of the room, I gathered that she probably didn't own much. Dedicated to science. Standing in front of the door, I had trouble understanding why she had dragged me here. Yet, as she sat on the bed and motioned me forward, I shifted uneasily. The bruise upon her neck showed in the harsh light; I couldn't believe he had attacked her so ruthlessly. But again, any thought of Jyn made my blood boil. Nothing, save for my little girl, could make me loose my marbles.

— "Galen ?"

She'd never called me by my rank – major – nor with my honorary title. To her, I had always been Galen. Just like Lyra. Was it a ploy, or a genuine interest of her part to speak to the human being rather than the scientist ? Deciding that I could give her a chance, I walked to her bed, and sat, back ramrod straight. My hand lifted, trailing the collar of her shirt to assess the extend of the damage. Guilt gnawed at my insides; in my rage, I had failed to consider her diminutive weight.

— "I'm sorry for..."

The young woman shrugged it off.

— "Don't worry, it won't show under the collar of the uniform."

Stubborn lady; I wondered how many bruises she had gathered from her training.

— "Still..."

She cut me there, refusing to understand what I meant.

— "You caught me off guard, that will be a good lesson. Now, how about the dessert I promised..."

— "I'm not hungry"

My stomach clenched, adrenalin dying down now that the confrontation was over. I wasn't new to this strange game; sitting with someone, sharing a drink or a delicacy, all the while wondering what danced in his mind and if his goals would align with mine. After Orson's skilful manipulation, I was wary of any gesture of friendship. But for the first time, I saw childish anticipation on her face and I couldn't help but think of my Jyn. For once, Elya seemed less guarded.

— "This, my friend, has nothing to do with hunger. Meiloorun fruits are all about sweetness."

Friend. Was this how she saw me ? Why she had set that blanket around my shoulders, the other night ? Could I trust her ?

— "How about you tell me why I'm here ?"

Elya seemed to ignore my stern tone as she fished a knife from the automatic drawer by her pillow, and retrieved a rounded, reddish fruit from a bag.

— "My quarters are not bugged, unlike yours"

My eyes widened; I suspected that Orson would keep an eye on me, but not so blatantly. How much else did she know ? And more importantly, what side would she chose ? Would she even pick one, or refuse to do so, like he had so many years ago ? The young woman started peeling the fruit, exposing a lovely, orange flesh that caught my attention. A token of piece, or another ruse ? With the cameras in the corridor, I was sure that Orson would be informed, soon enough, of my presence in Elya's quarters.

— "Rumours will spread. Orson won't be happy"

The young woman shrugged, her eyes still set upon the fruit.

— "Rumours are good, they keep people busy. More efficient than certitudes. At any rate it will only increase Krennic's satisfaction to think I managed to lure you in my bed"

Something lurched in my stomach; the idea of using Elya like a high-class whore didn't sit right by me. But it wouldn't be above Krennic to push her in my bed. Still... Would he really buy that I had forgotten Lyra so easily ? He'd seen me so absorbed in my research on Coruscant that I had pushed my family back to our flat while I stayed at the base... I guess Orson couldn't have guessed how attached to my wife I was, despite our very independent way of life.