High Heavens (Star Wars - Luke Skywalker)

I - Mara Nevaeh

Mara Nevaeh sat with her head in her hands, her knee bouncing uncontrollably. Her body and clothes were still caked with ash and blood - a lot of it her own. The smell of smoke had embedded itself into her hair. Flecks of black dusted the white bed sheets beneath her.

Scarif felt like lifetimes ago. Had it really only been a few hours?

The room she sat in was Princess Leia's. Under other circumstances, Mara should have been reeling. She was aboard the Tantive IV, sitting in the private quarters of her home planet's royalty. Any other Alderaanian would be much more careful not to leave tracks of dirt across the ground and bed as Mara had. Then again, most Alderaanians weren't in the Rebellion. They hadn't brushed arms with royalty and senators alike as Mara had throughout her years.

They also hadn't just fought a battle, like Mara had.

This one had been a close one. Mara had barely escaped with her life. Many others weren't as lucky as she. Her mind was flooded with emotions. Misery, victory, confusion, loss, anger. All swam through her head, uncontrollable. She should be feeling triumphant. This had been their first real victory against the Empire. The first truly crippling blow.

But it had cost Mara so much.

Mara shook her head, shaking the thoughts away. Stop thinking about it. Stop thinking about it.

At the sound of faint voices, she lifted her head. There was a lot of chattering going on outside. Other rebels - pilots, engineers, a few miscellaneous workers - mulled about the Blockade Runner. The ship was probably nearing full capacity. A handful of the passengers had also been a part of the battle on Scarif, driven into the Princess' starship in a panicked retreat.

Her mind spiraled into memory once more. Explosions still echoed through her mind. Voices. Screams. Fall back, retreat! Images: a forest speckled with flames, a beach dotted with bodies. A blinding wave of light rushing over the planet, engulfing everything. Crackling static where she should have heard her friends', "All clear!" Fire. Destruction. Chaos. Navi, Strata, Jyn, K-2...

Cassian.

Stop thinking about it, she told herself. You have to pull it together, Mara.

She had to refocus. She couldn't lose herself, now. After all, she was Mara Nevaeh: twenty-years-old, skilled pilot and better rebel. Second-in-command of her squadron. Trained by one of the Rebellion's best intelligence officers. She was a fighter, and right now, she had a mission.

She had her reason to fight.

Pull it together.

With a grunt, Mara forced herself from the bed. Her head spun as she stood, but the sensation passed. She pushed her hair from her tear-stained face, re-tying it in a quick braid. The quarters had a small sink in the corner. Mara used it to wash the grime from her face. She scrubbed the dirt from her hands. She wiped off her orange flight-suit as best she could, but there was little she could do for the rips and the bloodstains. Well, it would have to do, for now,

Not long after she finished, the door to the room opened with a whoosh. Mara turned, half-expecting the princess. Instead, she was met with the sharp brown eyes and hardened features of the ship's captain.

Mara gave him a quick salute. "Captain Antilles."

"Captain Nevaeh," he greeted. "The Princess has requested you for your debriefing."

Finally. Senator Bail Organa had approached her for this mission just minutes before she was abruptly redirected to Scarif. Between all of the battle's chaos, she hadn't had the opportunity to learn anything other than the fact that they were headed to Tatooine, in the Outer Rim.