Reflections: A Star Wars Fan Fiction Novella

Chapter 5

Civilization is ultimately a struggle of competing priorities. Two individuals, who in the presence of others would have likely killed each other and not lived to regret it, find themselves isolated from everyone else. That other person, the faceless enemy, now has a face. A face which is the only face you can see and may ever see. To kill now, would be as to kill all of civilization.

My stumble to the water wasn't shocking. I knew it was coming the moment my foot went over the side. My only concern, of course, was for the pair of electrobinoculars Cryus had left near my survival pack. He might kill me if I ruined those.

I tossed them away from me as I fell, and they skidded across the sand. I ended up being in the water for only a second or two, but my clothing was completely soaked by the time I had pulled myself to my feet. I strode back on shore, the weight of the water now embedded in my clothes slowing me down.

Retrieving the electrobinoculars, I climbed back on-top of my interceptor. There he was, as if he was wondering where I disappeared to. I waved him on, and he got on his back and floated towards the edge of the horizon. Right when I was worried he'd disappear forever he stopped, his eyes looking straight at me. He dived beneath the surface.

He was gone a long time. I was thinking about diving in after him when I heard a small voice. I looked around but didn't see anyone. Obviously, it was him shouting from afar. He was swimming towards me. I kept an eye on him until I was certain he could see the fighter, then I climbed off and waited beside it.

Now he was wading onto shore. The sun had just begun to go down completely and I could see stars beginning to appear behind him. He halted his walk a couple of yards in front of me, staring in my direction. I smiled, but he didn't return it. Then his eyes met mine and the left side of his mouth was curved. Well, his right side, my left.

"Do you have a mirror?"

"Huh? You look fine to me."

"Hmm." He walked past me, not saying another word. He picked up one of his gloves off of the sand, twisted it onto his right wrist, and began to brush the sand off of my ship's bow.

"Come here, look at this."

I complied, not knowing what the brix was going on. He moved over and placed his left hand over my right shoulder.

I hadn't seen my face, since yesterday. I was relieved that I wasn't missing an eyebrow or something.

"Look lower."

"What are you talking-"

"I guess the New Republic doesn't have the same dress standards that I thought they would, they are even lower than my assumptions. So uncivilized." It sounded like he was joking, but that thick Imperial accent didn't help matters.

Indeed, my little splashdown earlier had rendered my clothing utterly translucent. I sincerely doubted that he had never seen anything remotely like me before, but it still was upsetting. It felt like someone had taken a hammer to the transparisteel around my soul, sending tiny fractures throughout me.

I wasn't going to let him have the satisfaction of seeing me embarrassed, but I wasn't going to stand around and let him see any more of me, either. I threw my head back and dragged my soaked self over to my jumpsuit which had been drying on the sand for the past hour or so.

Gathering it up I started to walk away, towards the dunes.

"Where are you going?"

"To get changed."

"If it's privacy you want, I'll turn away. Yet, it isn't as if the majority of it isn't already ingrained into my mind."

Did I want to walk several dozen yards in wet clothes? No.