ミ☆ - 𝙶𝚞𝚎𝚜𝚜 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝙸'𝚖 𝚊 𝚏𝚘𝚘𝚕 𝚏𝚘𝚛 𝚝𝚑𝚎 𝚠𝚊𝚢 𝚝𝚑𝚊𝚝 𝚢𝚘𝚞 𝚌𝚊𝚞𝚐𝚑𝚝 𝚖𝚎
In which their loyalties lie with the first order, but they're both torn, undecided, broken. In each other, they find themselves.
｡･:*:･ﾟ★,｡...
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fade: chapter thirty-three
─── ･ ｡ﾟ☆: *.☽ .* :☆ﾟ. ───
FLORENCE IS HESITANT TOSTEP OFF the Millennium Falcon. They shot their way out of the ship, taking down a handful of troopers who came to see what the hell a ship like this intends to do on this star destroyer and how they got clearance. The group warily makes their way down the ramp, Poe shooting down a few stormtroopers standing at the end of the room before they even get a chance to react.
All of it feels too familiar, every step reminding her of all the horrible things she used to do — the voices and cries of people she has killed, most in their own homes, echoes through her head. As she closes her eyes, she can see their faces, all of them bled together into one crying person, begging for mercy. She shows him no mercy at all. She never did.
The group has stopped in their tracks a few feet ahead of her. Finn is the one to approach her. "You coming?"
"Yeah just... I'm coming," she joins them, wary and shaken but pretends as if not.
Quickly but wary of the threats around them, the group makes their way into the ship. The first turn goes smoothly, a left turn to reveal and empty hallway. But by the next, they're stood face to face with two troopers on duty. "Drop your weapons!"
Rey takes care of it. "It's okay that we're here," she calmly waves two fingers in front of them.
"It's okay that you're here," they repeat.
Poe leans over to Finn. "Do you think she does that to us?"
"Doubt it. Only works on the weak minded," Florence comments. It's a compliment that seems to go over both of their heads as they say nothing.
Rey gets the troopers to go in an opposite direction before turning to her friends. "Florence! You must know the way."
"Cell blocks are this way, follow me," she leads them further into the ship. Hearing a squad of approaching stormtroopers, they hide in little crevices on either side of the wall. They're awfully convenient for hiding, those parts of certain hallways — and the trooper's helmets help as well, the view inside of them is truly terrible. They easily slip out of sight and step out when it's clear.
Light on their, feet they run down the hallways with their guns held high in case they run into trouble. Coming into a closed off junction of corridors, they shoot down the cameras. Florence looks around her just to make sure she recalls which way to go. Being here seems so distant yet so close — so familiar but so foreign, in a sense. "He must be this way," she begins tapping away at a small pad on the wall by the door.
