Star Crossed

Alive

I walked like a ghost in the corridors. The strain of having to watch my ever thought – for a brain like mine – had exhausted me. Adding two hours in Orson's office, dealing with his dire moods, had finished the task. My mind was wandering to and fro without purpose, free of its shackles while the future plan already took form in my head on a second thread of thoughts.

Ten months from now, we were supposed to meet the emperor. It couldn't happen; I hoped we would both be gone ... free. Then, Elya would do whatever pleased her, and I would get Jyn and flee to the senators of Aldeeran with my knowledge. Would my colleague be amenable to stay with us and work for the Rebellion?

As I passed by her door, I wondered if I should knock or let her rest. My legs refused to leave, but I was exhausted, and so was she. We could debrief later on, right? A fond smile lifted the corner of my mouth; little did she know I had used her to keep Vader from sensing my moods. Whenever he fixed his attention upon me, I replaced my current thoughts with the longing to detach Elya's long hair from the constrictive braid, and run my hands in her loose strands. They looked like silk...

It had been close, so close... I didn't know if Darth Vader suspected our defection; I had been ready to die today. But not ready to lose her. And that despicable Sith had made really clear that he would hold her responsible just as well; my failure would bring her to death. His cold presence had seeped into my bones, and I couldn't get rid of it. My body still shook.

That terror taught me much; Elya meant much more to me than I dared admitting. She had become indispensable, like the air I breathed. And it didn't matter that this crippling terror had been for naught; a figment of our imagination, the result of a Sith's malevolent presence in the lab that had spread to the Kybers themselves. No, it didn't matter. For it had exposed, at last, the threads that linked us now.

Yet, I wasn't about to burden her with such feelings. I was already so proud of myself for acknowledging them; my brain usually kept deep attachment hidden behind figures, equations and behaviour analysis. Lyra would be so proud of me for understanding my predicament. Lyra... With a sigh, I dropped my head, and let my exhausted body rest upon the cold wall of the corridor. Wherever she was, I hoped she was with the Force. Happy, and looking after Jyn in her own way.

The burden we shared, the stress we were under had tied a knot between Elya and myself. Some link, much stronger than might have developed under normal circumstances. And that bond had grown with ease, trust replacing wariness as we worked towards a common goal, the fear of being discovered always there, always twisting our guts. Duress had caused time to constrict, feeligs to take root too fast for my comprehension. I was well aware of it; my guilt towards Lyra held no boundaries.

Yet... I couldn't ignore it. My affection for Elya crushed the walls of professional care with too much ease to feel comfortable with. I could only hope that Lyra would forgive me ... for she had shown me what it meant to be supported, loved and cared for. And I didn't want to be alone. Not again, not now when the future of the universe took shape beneath my hands. If my lovely wife had been here ... but she wasn't there. She was but a memory, and the strength that infused me.

Perhaps I could pass that door, we would share a drink; Elya's company kept the nightmares at bay. And given the sheer amount of fear I had been submitted to, I had no doubt they would come and plague my rest. Decision taken, I passed my hand beside her door's detector. It whooshed open, and I stepped in warily. Was she sleeping already?

"Galen!"

The door had barely closed in my back that a body crashed into me. Elya's hug was fierce, and desperate. The feeling of her body against mine was so foreign, but very welcome. It took the coldness away. I wrapped my arms around her slender silhouette, crushing her to my chest in an attempt to calm my racing heart. Her small frame shook against me, and I couldn't let go.