𝐒𝐄𝐂𝐔𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐘 - DIN DJARIN

Chapter 27: The Crash

chapter 27: the crash •••

It's a blaring alarm that jolts you out of your peaceful sleep.

Your husband remains almost completely asleep at your side, simply humming with his face pressed against the nape of your neck as he pulls your back even further into his chest. You furrow your brow as you turn your head over your shoulder, bringing a hand up to his hair as you give his curls a gentle tug. "Din," you call for him, causing him to stir just a bit more as he releases an unamused groan. "Din, my love, don't you hear that?"

"It'll turn off soon," Din insists, his voice even raspier than usual thanks to his exhaustion. "Just c'mere."

"I don't think this is just a little repair, Din," you insist, hearing the tone get more and more rapid. "I think there's a ship approaching us."

You can see Din's eyes widen at that, his face finally rising as his gaze meets yours. Concern washes over him as he further observes your severity, and instantly he switches from his tired mode to his protective mode. "You're right," he breathes, abandoning his place beside you quickly to reach for a shirt and pull it over his head. "Damn it."

"Here, you're gonna need some help," you insist, rising from the bed to hurry over to his pile of armor. Together, you both get Din's armor back on as quickly as possible, making sure it's securely in place as Din reaches for the helmet to finish it off. He slides it on, hearing it hiss and click in place before he nods.

"Okay, I'm gonna head to the cockpit," Din informs you.

"I'll join you in a second," you respond, returning his nod as you start to reach for your clothes. "I just have to make myself decent."

"You always look more than 'decent,' cyar'ika," Din remarks, sounding almost offended by your statement.

You try your hardest to keep the heat out of your cheeks, instead gesturing towards the closed compartment door. "The cockpit, Din!"

"Right," Din mutters, opening the panel and then letting it fall closed behind him. You shake your head to yourself, exchanging Din's shirt for your clothes. When you catch sight of your waist, you can see that some of the skin there has started to turn a faded black and blue, making you bite back a smile as you remember whose passionate grip had just done that. You hadn't missed your own artwork on Din's back either before he'd pulled his shirt on. These images somehow comfort you even in the midst of your anxiety about the current situation, helping you to take a deep breath before you finish dressing and join Din in the cockpit.

The alarms have been off for a while by the time you get there, sinking slowly into the co-pilot seat opposite from where the Frog Lady still sleeps. You brace your hands upon the back of Din's chair as you look through the transparisteel to realize you're being flanked by two x-wings. Your heart leaps into your throat, especially once you tune in to the voice that's speaking over Din's intercom.

"Just one more thing," the man says, making you raise an eyebrow at Din. He's evidently too focused to answer you right now, instead trying to think of how to respond to the New Republic pilot.

"Yes?" Din remarks, as if he's annoyed. You know he most likely is. Din doesn't like being woken early from his slumber—especially in the aftermath of the things you'd done.

"I'm gonna need you to send us a ping," the pilot informs him. You swallow hard, seeing Din tense up as the pilot continues. "We're out here sweeping for Imperial holdouts."

"I'll let you know if I see any," Din assures the pilot, his voice as dry as ever.

There's a pause. Then, the pilot speaks again. "I'm still gonna need you to send us that ping," he insists.