War Child--Rogue One

XL

The autopilot beeps, alerting us that we're approaching the Yavin moons and disturbing our rest.

We both stand up and go to our respective places, preparing to fly down to the green, green planet.  We only spend an hour on the surface, long enough to confirm that there aren't any Imperial troops on the moon, before we're on our way home.

That's the way of the Rebel honeymoon, you get a day, and then it's back to work. Our allegiances lie with the Rebellion over all else, even our own spouses.

"Do you want to report?" Linami asks as we unload the few supplies we had brought with us.

I shake my head. "You're the one who knew what we were there for in the first place."

"Alright." She stands on tiptoe and kisses me on the lips briefly. "I'll see you in a bit."

I carry the things to my — our — barrack (she moved her things in yesterday, before the wedding) and unpack the clothes and weapons. I have a new blaster, an A280-CFE. It's like a normal blaster, but has sniper, long range, and infantry configurations. Much nicer than my old sniper rifle. I still carry a smaller model with me. It's easier to conceal.

While we were gone, the bed was expanded to fit two instead of one, a request I put in as soon as Linami said yes to my proposal. I asked that they do it while we were away, so it would be ready for our return. That's a thing I like about the Rebellion. They fulfill scheduled requests faithfully.

My slightly tattered blue blanket barely stretches over the blanket, but we were issued a new set of sheets. I put them on and am just finishing plumping the pillows when Linami arrives.

She puts down her holopad. "Thank you for making the bed."

"You're welcome," I say, turning to hug her, but she jumps past me and lands on the bed.

"I want the wall side," she says taking off her jacket and scurrying under the covers. She's lucky. Her flight pants are soft enough to sleep in. Mine are canvas, stiff and tactical. I have to change before I can climb in bed also.

I turn out the lights. "Good night."

"Good night. I love you."

"I love you, too."

The next day, we are assigned a mission.  It's simple enough, even simpler than the last one.  We need to drop supplies down to a group of marooned spies without the imperial lookouts noticing.

Fortunately, the drop point is about a quarter of the way around the planet, so if we approach at the right angle and don't encounter any scouts we should be fine.  The spies don't need picking up, even though that seems like the smartest idea.  They're staking out to find out what the Empire wants with Scarif.  Tinred and I load the crates of supplies onto the ship and position them so that we can just let down the gangplank and let them fly.  They've got parachutes, of course, which will automatically release at a certain altitude.

See?  Easy.

If we leave now, an hour after breakfast, we can return an hour before dinner.

Linami climbs on board and puts some bread and meat next to the stash of bland rations.  "We might as well have some good food," she explains.

"Good thinking," I say, wrapping my arms around her.

"You're burning daylight," Tinred says irritably, sitting down on a bench near the crates.

Linami and I head for the cockpit.  Since she's still the official pilot of our mission team, she takes her pilot's seat, and I take copilot. Switches are flipped and we are ready for takeoff.

"Mission 510, requesting permission for takeoff," I say into the radio.

There is a bit of static, then, "Permission granted. May the Force be with you, 510."

The flight only takes an hour or so, then we fly straight down to the rendezvous point. We're about to lower the gangplank and send the supplies out when we receive a transmission telling us to land.

"Confirm squadron number," Linami says into the radio.

"Rebel squadron 72," the speaker replies.

It checks out.

"Alright. We are landing."

As soon as we touch down, Tinred and I grab our blasters and run down the gangplank. Linami comes down a second later.

A group of men in camouflage gear run up. "We've captured a droid to return to the base. We think that it will be useful. The call number is K-2SO."

Two of the men carry a pile of scraps on board. "He may need to be reassembled."

"Tinred, help them with the crates," I order over my shoulder.

"Do you have any injured who need to return?" Linami asks.

The man, I haven't seen him before around the base but I assume he's the leader, nods. "Yusuf Pinch." He turns to one of the other men and whispers something to him.

He and one other run off to retrieve a stretcher with a poor soldier draped on it.

I almost vomit.  He's missing an entire leg.  A leg!  His face and hair are bloody.   I don't think they even tried to clean him up after he was injured.

"Did you administer first aid?" Linami asks, keeping herself under control much better than I am.

"No.  We don't have any of that stuff."

"We've got to get Yusuf back as quickly as possible," she says, stepping out of the way and waving the two men past to carry him up.

"Thank you.  May the Force be with you."

"And with you," I say with a curt nod.  My stomach is slightly settling now.  "Tinred!"

We all load up.

"You fly," Linami says, "I need to help Yusuf.  Get some of the bread from the cupboard, will you?"

I do so, and take my place at the controls.

We're almost out of the atmosphere when there's an explosion behind us.  I circle back briefly just to check it out.  The stakeout is now a black crater.

"What was that?" Tinred asks, leaning over the copilot's seat.

I don't say anything, just turn around and steer us home.