FLYING SOLO ➳ luke skywalker

TWENTY-FIVE! TRIX

DONIO claimed it wasn't acting as a holding cell, but Analia was still being treated as a prisoner in the Den. It was her old quarters she had been thrown into, since stripped bare of all her possessions. The door was locked shut from the outside, leaving Analia with no escape. Days turned into weeks and she passed the hours by counting up the seconds in her head, humming different tunes, and eventually resorting to conversing aloud with herself when the boredom became too much to bear. The longer she stayed there, she convinced herself, the more peril Han was in, and the harder Luke would be to find.

At the thought of seeking out Luke, Analia's skin grew hot. She had not been tracking the time but, by now, months had surely passed since they had parted ways on Cloud City. The rendevous point of the Alliance was the obvious place to look, but Analia never would have been granted clearance to land after her X-wing starfighter had been infused with an Imperial tracking code. If Donio were to return the Revenant to her, she might be in luck. It had been so many years since the freighter terrorised the skies of the galaxy, any rebels who might previously have recognised it would surely have forgotten it by now.

If by some stroke of tremendous fortune she was granted clearance to land in the Revenant, the next problem would be getting Luke on board. She could concoct a false tale to explain away her lengthy absence with ease, but could she look him in his gentle eyes and lie to his face to convince him to walk right into an Imperial trap? She wasn't sure she had it in her

Analia started when, without warning, the door to her quarters opened with a groan. Wordlessly, a scowling black-haired woman with a large dent in her chin placed a tray of food at the foot of Analia's cot and tossed a spare pair of clothes beside it. She came once a day with food and every third day with clothing, and it was the only time that Analia saw anyone. She had just opened her mouth to speak, demand to see Donio, when the woman turned on her heel and stalked from the room, slamming the door shut as she went. Analia heard the lock click.

"Well, she really is lovely," she grumbled to herself.

The last time Analia had been free of those four walls was right after her conversation with Donio in his office, when he took her to the Den's medical centre to sterilise and stitch up the cut on her cheek, as well as tend to the stab wound in her shoulder. As she had expected, the scar tissue aided Analia in a quick recovery and also protected her from infection.

Ignoring the meal of colo claw fish, Analia stripped off her soiled clothing and tossed the items in a dirty heap on the floor. She stepped into the refresher, moaning with relief as the sonic shower rid her skin of grime, softened her hair, eradicated the pungent stench of sweat that clung to her body. Analia reached over her shoulder and gently prodded the area where she had been stabbed back at the Grid. By now, it had completely healed.

When she stepped out of the sonic shower, Analia examined her neck in the mirror mounted on the wall in her quarters. The blotches of angry blue and purple that had exploded like supernovas on her skin had begun to fade, but they were still visible upon close inspection. She lightly grazed the bruises with her fingers, swallowing hard, then she dressed in her fresh outfit. As she slipped her arms into the sleeves of the durable black bodysuit, her blood ran cold. It was almost identical to that which she had once worn beneath her Trix armour. Analia had just slid her feet back into her own sturdy boots when the rapping of knuckles on the door came. She stared, perplexed, with furrowed eyes at the door until it swung open to reveal Donio. He eyed her from head to toe.

"Ah, there she is," he said, holding his hands together. "Don't you clean up well?"

Analia ignored Donio's feeble attempt at a compliment and shot him the fiercest glare she could muster. He had kept her locked up for weeks with no company or entertainment, no information as to when, if ever, she was going to be freed, and now he had the audacity to saunter into her quarters and patronise her?