Photophobia

The Branch

He wasn't surprised that she barely said two words in the morning. She was clearly uncomfortable. Hux did his best to avoid her so that she didn't have to think about last night. It had been odd. She probably had been drowsy. Hadn't meant it.

The rain had finally stopped and after a couple of hours of braiding the cables together they had a rope. Hux tested its strength by wrapping it around the tree and by pulling with all his might. It held and he realised that the moment where he would probably break his neck had arrived.

They ate a few berries before giving it a try. Tico's overalls had dried and she had swapped the greatcoat for her clothes. She handed him the coat and he carefully folded it and put back into the backpack.

Then he looked down at his uniform jacket. It was dirty and crinkled. It made him uneasy. Perhaps he should take it off? The air was cool but he assumed that he would sweat soon enough ... he wasn't keen on putting his slender frame on display ... it didn't matter. She already knew.

He quickly unbuttoned the jacket and folded it carefully, then he grabbed his black leather gloves and put them on.

She pretended to pile up firewood, but he noticed the glances she shot him. He set his lips in a thin line. Perhaps he should've left the jacket on. He tried to slick back his hair – of course in vain – and it made him feel even more awkward.

It didn't matter. He focussed on the task at hand and approached the lowest branch. With a jump and an pathetic pull-up he sat on the first branch. He tried not to look at her and paused for a moment before he got up and climbed further up.

With the help of the cables and the make-shift hook he managed to climb up to the crown. The wing lay on a thick branch.

He slowly climbed closer, just when he was about to reach it he almost slipped – luckily he managed to grab on a branch and get a hold. His heart hammered against his chest and he needed a couple of moments before he could move again.

The chips looked fine when he pulled them out of the fuel injector. He allowed himself a smile – finally they made some headway.

The way down was much easier, but the climb had exhausted him – his arms and legs felt heavy when he handed her the fuel injectors. "They're a little scorched but they seem functional."

She took them from his hand and smiled at him. "Good."

The smile took him by surprise and only after that he discovered that he had returned it. She had already turned her attention away, obviously checking the chips.

He felt himself blushing a little and ran his hand through his hair. Then he realised that he was still quite exposed, his lips twitched a little when he glanced at his pale arms. He quickly walked over to the pile of clothes and put the jacket back on.

He felt more comfortable when he had closed the last button. "Your turn, specialist."

She nodded. "Alright, let's go-"

"It's only a matter of hours before the sun sets. I suggest we go first thing in the morning," he said. There was no point in stumbling around in the dark.

She sighed. "You're right, I just can't wait to get off this planet."

"Depending who is picking up the signal you won't be so glad to leave," he dryly said.

"I guess," she said, sounding dejected.

They built a fire and roasted their food. Hux couldn't stop himself picturing being back at the Order. First, he would check their progress in the war of course. Call Ren to inform him that the rumours of his death were exaggerated. Perhaps Ren would be angry that he wasn't already dead ... or perhaps he had realised that things ran smoother with Hux at the helm?