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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The light that flooded Orona's eyes made her squint, but room dimmed when her pupils dilated. The hum of conversation became a clearer, distinct set of voices. The owners of the voices had yet to notice Orona and Cassian, and sat around a table. Only one of them she didn't recognize: a man so old he looked like he could turn to dust any moment. She frowned. Where are we?
"It seems your companions have awoken," the stranger spoke.
Orona flinched in fright. He was turned away from her. How did he know they were there?
Iksene, whipping around, was the first to stand, followed by Jyn. He strode to Orona with great purpose. She wondered if he was going to hug her, but he awkwardly stopped himself halfway, taking her hands instead.
"I am happy you are well," he said, and Orona grinned at the sweet gesture. His green skin flushed to the color of pine trees in winter.
"Me too," said Jyn, smiling her typical half-smile when Orona looked to her. She held up a glass of water to the younger sister, insisting, "come on, drink something and sit down."
Orona did as told, sipping on the water that replenished her energy tenfold in mere moments. She hadn't even realized how dehydrated she was till then. The moisture softened her lips, which cracked from the dry desert air, and she gulped down more of the liquid.
"Thought you two might never come outta that room," said Kes, throwing a wink at Cassian while he led Orona to a chair.
Orona became conscious of Cassian's hand on her back, and her throat constricted. "Shut up, Kes." She scampered to a seat, out of the Captain's warm touch. Why was he so warm?
The lighthearted ambiance faded when Orona looked at the stranger, the old man with hair so snowy-white he looked like he belonged on Fest, not Tatooine.
Here he sat, however, staring her down with an intense gaze. It felt like a poker match, and he was reading Orona's every move to interpret her intent.
Only a moment had passed, but it felt like an eternity under the watchful man's eyes. She cleared her throat, feeling awkward in the silence which no one else was interested in breaking. "Uh, hello there. Sorry to, uh, drop in on you like this."
Cassian smirked beside her, stifling a laugh. Orona caught it, and elbowed him in the ribs.
The old man's mouth quirked upwards in the tiniest of smiles. His eyes twinkled; they were sad, and held the weight of the world, yet still carried the quick wit of youth. "That's quite alright, child." He stood, taking a kettle off the stove that had begun to whistle. "It's not often I host visitors."
Orona took the mug of liquid he poured, the pottery warming her hands in tingles, so much so she had to put it down to cool off. The tea bag had to steep, anyways.
He passed another mug to Cassian, before going to put away the kettle. "Especially rebels."
Iksene's green skin paled to a vomit-like color, his eyes the size of a moon. The air was sucked from the room. The rebels held their breath, hoping and praying this man wasn't an enemy.
