The captain had not been expecting company -- not this late, anyway. Darkness had fallen on Yavin 4 and a velvet shade engulfed the sky -- and yet, the planet did not seem to sleep. He could hear rebels running under his feet, from beneath the top of the tower he stood upon ; callused hands curled against the banister. He could feel their anger, their rage, in his veins as if it was his own. And it was -- he had been awake long enough to know that Aldeeran had fallen to the destruction of the Death Star ; a whole planet. And it bit into his heart like a vice until it threatened to tear him apart from the inside out. His only solace was that the weapon was blown out of the skies, even if this did nothing to quell his anger. Had Jedha -- had Scarif -- not been enough? The craters the tool had created against the planets’ soil -- it had to take the whole of a world with its destruction ; and it made him angry. ( It reminded him why he fought ; even if his body was sore and tired -- still relearning itself after weeks sought under after meeting Death by its greedy fingers on the beaches of Scraif and escaping -- scathed, bruised, but alive. ) He had not been expecting company, albeit -- if he was surprised, he seldom showed it as he turned over his shoulder ; something akin to relief in his features ; “Jyn, it is good to see you whole.”
@stcrveined // ♡ ‘d
