Quinn
I still don't know what to say to Oh-two. I feel guilty that I pressed her for information that could get her killed. My curiosity got the better of me. But how was I supposed to know she'd react so poorly to my own confession?! I left that docking bay last night with nothing but complicated thoughts about the Knights of Ren, the commander, and the First Order.
Work offers no relief. My only task is to oversee lesser officers track the small ships that go back and forth between Starkiller base and the Finalizer. I wonder a dozen times if Oh-two is on any of the transports.
The only half-interesting thing that happens is at the end of my shift when my stomach starts growling louder than a bantha. Hux storms onto the command deck, sucking the atmosphere right out of the air. The sound of clanking metal follows him.
I discreetly watch out of the corner of my eye as Hux stops in front of the panorama of glass and stares at the frozen planet we hover above. Only the edge of the carved out center portion of the planet is visible from here.
Captain Phasma stops next to him, her height and posture more intimidating than any stormtrooper under her control. She holds her big silver gun down at her side, and her cape lays perfectly still as if waiting for her command to move. If Phasma had approached me that day instead of Commander Ren, I would have pissed myself and dropped to my knees. Her mere presence commands respect.
I pretend not to listen to Hux, but my eavesdropping is in vain anyway. They only discuss the amount of troopers that should be sent down to Starkiller and for how long. After about five minutes, the two part ways. Hux stands stiff-backed and stares down at the planet while captain Phasma takes her leave.
My stomach continues to rumble, and I gratefully leave the command deck during the shift change. As soon as I'm free and clear from the strict environment, a yawn stretches my mouth, and I rub my tired, burning eyes.
I try to think of something to say to Oh-two when I get to the meal hall, but I come up short. I can't tell her about my story last night, it'll look contrived. I'm not even confident that she'll be there today. Or that she will even sit with me.
With a sinking heart, but growling stomach, I get my tray of food and sit in my usual spot. The food tastes more bland than usual, but I scoop in large bites anyway.
Oh-two sits down with her food across from me, and my mouth goes dry.
The uncomfortable silence between us lasts long seconds until I can't take it anymore. "Oh-two-"
She shakes her head and keeps her gaze on her food. "It's not safe to talk about."
"But-" I force my lips shut. Because I have no excuse. I want to talk about it, but I don't really have a leg to stand on.
"I'm not mad," she says in a small voice, a perfect compliment to her petite frame and freckled face. "You're just not exactly who I thought you were."
Defensiveness burns like a flame in my chest. "I really didn't mean to put you on the spot like that yesterday."
Her bright gaze finally lifts to mine. In the short time when she searches my face, the air between us shifts again. "You're not better than me just because you work on the command deck."
My jaw drops. "What? Why would I ever think that?"
"Don't." Her angular jaw tightens. "It was selfish of you to put me in a position like that. I have to watch my back every second of every day, and now you've made it worse. Just own it. You either wanted to feel superior over me, or you're a lot more stupid than a chief officer should be."
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Contract With the Commander: Kylo x OC
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