❛ Does it ever drive you crazy just how fast the night changes? ❜
In which a Rebel intelligence officer's life changes in an instant when a blonde boy in a Stormtrooper disguise rescues her from the hands of the Empire.
cover by the amazing @shangch...
Ουπς! Αυτή η εικόνα δεν ακολουθεί τους κανόνες περιεχομένου. Για να συνεχίσεις με την δημοσίευση, παρακαλώ αφαίρεσε την ή ανέβασε διαφορετική εικόνα.
" the last time you saw me
is still burned in the
back of your mind "
•••
"I'm so sorry, Ellie." Leia's father delivered the dreaded news in a solemn tone, "Oliver's dead."
The memory echoes from every dark corner of her mind. She couldn't outrun it, no matter how much she suppressed it, shoved it back, it kept coming back.
She stares off at the icy ceiling. Every time she closed her eyes, she was taunted by the memory, begging for attention on its four year anniversary. Attention she refused to give it.
She climbed off the bed at its end, so she does not wake Luke, peacefully sleeping on the other side of her. She wanders over to a makeshift desk, where her holo pad laid. She quietly turns it on, shifting the brightness all the way down.
"Huh," She whispered to herself, as the tablet's screen immediately freezes up, refusing to even acknowledge being turned back off, "this piece of junk –"
1 new message. An odd pop up flashes on the screen, drawing her to open it.
There didn't appear to be a sender, like it was just intercepted from an Imperial satellite.
She studied it for a moment. This has to be some kind of code or little known language. It looks like gibberish. Wait –
Something familiar within the message caught her eye as she reached the end. Written in Galactic basic were three initials she knew all too well. Oliver. "Oh, Force, this can't–"
"This can't what?" A drowsy Luke inquires, awoken by her slightly too loud exclamation.
"Oh, just a weird piece of intercepted intelligence," she sighed, "it's some language I don't recognize."
"Threepio probably could recognize it," he suggests, "but you can ask him in the morning. Go back to bed, Ellie, it's late."
•••
Elara woke up late the next morning to an empty bed. Luke must've had an early morning patrol, and somehow didn't wake her. Nor did her alarm.
Force! Leia's not gonna be happy. She was supposed to be at her post in the control room right now, which Leia likely had to cover.
She shot out of the bed, quickly brushing her teeth, and combing her hair, then threw on some clothes. She grabbed Luke's spare jacket, her reading glasses, the holo pad, and sped out the door.
"What precisely am I supposed to know?"
Oh no. Not again.
She slowed down upon overhearing Han and Leia doing what they did best – arguing. This was a common occurrence ever since Han chose to stay with the Rebellion after the Battle of Yavin. Usually, Han, being his cocky self, aggravated Leia, and an argument ensued, followed by Han turning off his comm link to cool down, because he 'didn't want to talk to her', making himself unable to be contacted. The amount of times Elara, Luke, or another Rebel had to hunt down the smuggler happened more frequently than it should.
