War Child--Rogue One

XLII

Yusuf doesn't make it.  He was comatose for three days and then had sudden heart failure.  Linami was there.

I told her to not go.  I didn't want her to witness more death.  She's already witnessed so much on the battlefield, we both have.  But she is independent.

She still went.

As it turns out, he was only seventeen years old and has no family at all. His life story is painfully like mine. Father died when he was very young, mother died a few years ago. He ran here to get revenge.

All of the pilots stand vigil the night he dies, out of respect, but Linami is the only one crying. I am numb. This poor kid is exactly who I might have been, had I made any different decisions.

I finally sleep that night.  Not good sleep, but rest.

It takes a few months to actually return to my normal sleep schedule. This is strange. I've never reacted to death this way, for people I hardly knew. Perhaps seeing Linami this way is making me react stronger.

We're given a week of rest and relaxation, and we decide to pack some bags and go across the planet to stay in an inn in another village.

The village, Spek, is about four hundred strong, with a beautiful outlook over a large lake. Crops grow in rings away from the lake, and the village breaks up those rings to sit right at the shore.

We can't take The Corellian Ghost with us, since it's too easy for some jealous trader make off with it (and with it, valuable Rebel information) so we take a day-long journey along narrow roads on a speeder.

The speeder isn't very new.  It was built back when ion engines were too big and too expensive to put on speeders, so it runs on burnable liquid fuel.  The black smoke probably does some serious damage on the ecosystem, and we end up smelling like someone spilled the Ghost's fuel, then had the idiotic idea to set the whole thing on fire.  Ship and all.

The first thing I do when I get to the inn is shower.  It feels good to get the dust off my skin, and to clean it out of my hair, which has gotten pretty long.

When I get out of the shower, Linami's sitting outside, watching the suns set over the lake.  I squeeze the water out of my hair with the towel and come up behind her.

"You know, views like this almost make me want to retire and just live here," Linami muses.

"We can't leave the Rebellion.  We have to finish our job."

She laughs and hits my side.  "We're on a rest.  For a little bit, we can not worry about defeating the Empire."

I put my hand on her head.  "I'll try."

"Thank you.  Come on, sit down."  She pats the other chair.

Instead, I pull her up so I can sit on her chair, then pull her back down so she's on my lap.  She giggles, a sound so rare to come out of such a strong woman.

I nestle my nose in her hair.  "I love you."

She laughs again.  "I love you too, Cass." Linami pushes my head away. "Your hair is wet."

"I just got out of the shower."

"You should cut it."

"That won't make it dry."

"I know. But I don't like it this long."

I flick my head, sending droplets everywhere. "I do."

We sit and watch the end of the sunset, then go back inside and sleep.

The next morning, we get an emergency message on my datapad.

I tap it and Mon Mothma is projected in the air.

"I am sorry for cutting your rest time short, Captains. However, we have received word that the Empire is building a walking tank of sorts, and spies say that we can stop them by sneaking in and destroying the plans themselves. If the plans are destroyed, they will be unable to build the tank, or it will at least set them back a few months or so. Please return to the base, where you will join three other Mission teams to conduct the mission. We acknowledge that it will take at least a day for you to return, but if you do not return in two days, you will be counted as deserters. May the Force be with you. As usual, this message will automatically delete from all platforms and may not be recalled." The hologram disappears.

I turn to Linami, who's just waking up. "Well?"

"Well we aren't deserting."  She sits up and reaches up to undo her bun.  Her hair drifts around her shoulders.  It's so pretty.

"Such is the life of a Rebel," I lament, standing.

We pack our things and travel all of the way back home.

I tell Mothma that, before we leave, I have to have a shower.

She lets me.  I feel victorious until I realize that we aren't scheduled to leave until tomorrow anyway.