SYZYGY
/ˈsizijē/
(n) an alignment of celestial bodies
Orona Erso was never ashamed of herself, until who she was shattered before her very own eyes.
Cassian Andor was ashamed of unspeakable things he had done, and spent most of his time convincing...
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"Schematics bank. Data tower two," said Kaytoo over the microphone.
"How do I find that?" His brows furrowed, Cassian surveyed the computer in front of him.
"Searching," answered Kaytoo, like it was clearer than day, "I can locate the tape, but you'll need the handles for extraction."
Cassian fiddled with the controls, and grabbed said handles. "What are we supposed to do with these?" He moved his hands, staring with boyish fascination when the machinery inside the vault moved with him. "Whoa."
"Well, finally."
Shuffling sounded over the comms, and Cassian exchanged a worried look with Jyn.
"Wait, stop!" A stormtrooper, they recognized.
Kaytoo quickly responded with such bad acting that Cassian sighed aloud. "The rebels! They went over there."
He decided to intervene, wondering what the hell his droid was doing. "Kay, what's going on out there?"
"There's one. Oh well."
They heard a thud, thud, and then a crash over the comm.
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Orona was on Krennic's heels now, falling just behind him, always around a corner. Her hate fueled her more than anything else, wanting nothing more than to shoot the Director right, then and there. Her muscles, sore from torture, ached to rip him apart. Open wounds still leaked with dark liquid, spilling from deep in her veins. For her mother, father, Saw Gerrera, and Jedha, she wanted blood. Orson Krennic's blood.
She had to wait. She knew that. Red blurred her sight anyways, and she tailed him, knowing he could lead her to the Death Star plans. There was a weakness monumental enough to turn the tide of the war, and she could be the one to find it. She had to be to save Cassian and her friends, even if it was the last thing she ever did.
Krennic quickly came to a halt, striding towards a high-ranking woman in a stiff grey uniform underneath a cloak of the same dull color.
Orona, inching around the corner of the doorway she stood in, couldn't see the woman's face, but made out stringy fire-red hair held back in a braid. Narrowing her eyes, she tried to make out the words they exchanged, but they were too far to distinguish properly.
The woman nodded and turned to walk away, taking some of Krennic's guard with her, but not before he grabbed her forearm.
Orona watched, furrowing her brows at the strange interaction. Krennic's face softened, yet his grip on her arm seemed to harsh for a loving relationship. Then, she jerked her arm away subtly and walked away, this time without interruption.