Star Crossed

Of secret meetings

Elya was slumped against the head board – her favourite spot whenever we met – but her usual sharp eyes were slightly unfocused. Hair unbound; I couldn't help but admire as ringlets of deep red clashed against the dark shirt, so different from Lyra's dark tresses. I frowned, letting the door close behind me in a whoosh. I had never seen the young woman so ... unkempt. The bottle of liquor that rested by her bedside might have something to do with that.

— "Hey, Galen ! Nice of you to swing by, make yourself at home"

Familiarity that bordered on rudeness. Ever since that lunch she had shared with Orson, Elya seemed rather tense. Angry, even. I couldn't blame her; she was probably reassessing every single interaction she had shared with her mentor. Realising how Krennic used her, led her in the direction that suited his needs with honeyed words and mock concern. The uncomfortable thought of him pushing Elya in my arms to keep me contented was as insulting as it was loathsome. Did he really think I could forget Lyra so easily ? So readily ?

For sure, Elya was a beautiful woman. Lovely, in any way, if I was true to myself. So young... too young for to even consider something as preposterous as intimacy. Our understanding came from the mind; we almost never touched. No. We were partners in crime, fellow scientists, communicating on a deeper level; that of the world. If my fondness and care had grown over the past months, it was only because I could find much of myself in her. And because she had found the courage to see things as they were. To turn her back on the man who had 'created' her. I admired her for it.

So I sat in my usual spot stretching my legs with my back to the wall. Elya was partly drunk, and I wanted to know why she seemed so wretched.

— "What is wrong ?", I asked gently.

Her outlined eyebrows shot to the sky.

— "Wrong ? Nothing is wrong. I'm a happy scientist, devising a weapon able to annihilate planets on the whim of a Sith Lord."

I gasped; how did she come by this information ? Could Lord Vader really be a Sith Lord ? It it was true, then the rumours... and the emperor. The information was drowned in a drunken chuckle, and I stored it for later assessment.

— "I'm trying to help this guy find his daughter again, and left his wife to die because I was afraid she would kill my beloved mentor. Nothing's wrong, Dr Erso. How was your day ?"

The mock giddiness didn't fool me, and I reached the bottle of liquor to take a whiff. It smelt of sugar and fruit. Comfort.

— "Elya. I didn't take you for the drinking type", I scolded.

The young woman didn't react at my patronizing tone, refusing to play the daughter-father relationship she had with Krennic. Thirteen years separated us, and, sometimes, I found her more suited to the world than I. Of course, I had grown, been a farmer, a prisoner of war, and had a child. Many events that had pushed me to consider true, down to earth considerations. Yet, Lyra had always been my anchor, and now that she was gone, I had trouble keeping on my feet again. Somehow, Elya managed to balance the two aspects of life more easily.

— "I'm not. It makes me sleepy. Want a swig ?"

I shrugged, chastising myself for trying to paternalise her. She needed a friend, I needed a friend... So I drank a good lump from the bottle, and found her poison much sweeter and less alcoholic than expected. It smelt of gardens and ripe fruits, of strong winds and sunshine. In the bowels of a stormy planet like Eadu, it warmed my insides.

Elya held out her hand and I let the bottle go. Instead of taking another mouthful, she set the bottle on the nightstand, and looked me in the eye. Her hazel eyes danced, her cheeks flushed so red that it echoed the intense hue of her lips.