Archive of Our Own ^beta

Chapter Text

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Aradia woke up to the sound of her alarm blaring on her datapad. As she rolled over to hit snooze, she squinted at the bright light that was being emitted from the screen.

06:00.

Groaning, she shut it off and rolled onto her back, staring at the ceiling. She watched as sunlight drifted into her room through the blinds, illuminating stripes onto the ceiling. Raising her toned arm, she traced them with her finger before letting it fall to her side. It bounced off the cot with an embarrassing amount of force, but it made her smile a little at its ridiculousness.

For such a pristine establishment, you would think the First Order could afford better living arrangements for its employees, she thought.

Aradia has worked for the Command Shuttle for about a year now, but Mondays never seem to get any easier. They were the worst day of the week for her. Not because of the early hours — but because she had to spend another day being told what to do by people she could out-fly in her sleep. She rolled over and checked her datapad again for any messages. Sure enough, she had one message blinking at the top, begging to be read.

MESSAGE 0436
SENDER: OCTAVIAN PIERCE
TIME: 05:45
MESSAGE: Rise and shine, Star! Another fun-filled day of patrolling the planet of Chandrila to report back with the agricultural status of their crops and livestock. See you soon.

Star. Her callsign. It was simple, but being one of two women in the fleet, she was happy to be called her callsign at all. It gave her a sense of purpose, a sense of belonging. Like she was just as important as anyone else there. Aradia reread Octavian's name a few times, her heart skipping a beat. A small smile crept onto her face as she thought about his piercing green eyes and the way he slicked back his strawberry blonde hair, but she could still tell it was fluffy when it was freshly washed.

The other woman, Zahara, is her best friend. Zahara was around her age and was recruited to the First Order in the same group as Aradia. The two of them were always underestimated during training camp as the only women, but Aradia proved them wrong with her impeccable performances and maturity. She always admired Zahara’s deep complexion and how she kept her skin clear of blemishes, as well as her flawless appearance without any makeup. Her eyelashes were naturally long enough to fly away, and her braided hair was always sleek with no flyaways, and she kept her baby hairs glued to her forehead in perfect little waves.

Sighing, she stretched and rolled out of bed, not bothering to hit the light switch as she walked straight towards the coffee machine.

Priorities.

The pot of coffee finished brewing, and she grabbed a mug out of the cabinet to pour herself a cup. She left a little room on top to stir in her milk and sugar so that it wouldn't spill over, and sat back down on her cot. Suddenly, her datapad started blowing up with messages.

GROUP MESSAGE 0437
SENDER: DIMITRI VANOPOLOUS
TIME: 06:05
MESSAGE: Fucking Chandrila?? AGAIN???

GROUP MESSAGE 0438
SENDER: MORDECAI HOPKINS
TIME: 06:05
MESSAGE: They can't get enough of me, what can I say?

GROUP MESSAGE 0439
SENDER: DIMITRI VANOPOLOUS
TIME: 06:06
MESSAGE: You're right, Phoenix, the livestock is just dying to see your face again.

GROUP MESSAGE 0440
SENDER: ROMAN WEATHERMAY
TIME: 06:07
MESSAGE: How dare you nitwits blow up my inbox this early in the morning? You lot exhaust me.

Giggling at her friends' messages, Aradia heard a knock at her door. She sighed and looked down at her mug, un-sipped and still steaming hot. Sitting in silence, she debated whether or not she wanted to talk to anyone yet as she stirred the liquid mindlessly.

She placed the mug on the counter, wiping her face aggressively with her hands to wake herself up a little more before reaching for the handle. Before she could open it all the way, Zahara burst in.

"OMG, Star! You'll never guess the night I had," she exclaimed, her peppy voice shocking her a little. Zahara was never really in a good mood, per se, so she smiled a little at her demeanor.

"Tell me about it then," Aradia said, leaning against the counter as she closed the door behind her and turned on the light switch. She winced at the sudden intrusion of light as her eyes adjusted.

"So, I was at the pub, right? And guess who was there," she started. Aradia shrugged. "Guess!"

"I don't know. General Hux?" she joked. There's no way Hux would be caught dead in a dive bar like Captain's Quarters. She giggled and gave Aradia’s arm a playful slap.

"No, silly! Emmit was there! And guess what he told me," she went on when she didn't
respond. "So he told me, and you're not going to believe this, that Chandrila is where Commander Ren grew up. And we're going there!"

"I wouldn't believe everything you hear, Ace. I don't even think Ren is human," deadpanned Aradia, only half-joking. "And besides. How would Emmit know anyway? He's just an electrician."

"A sexy electrician, put good on his name," she stated. Aradia rolled her eyes and gave her a genuine smile, reaching behind herself for her coffee mug and blowing on the steam.

"Okay, so your sexy electrician boyfriend said that Commander Ren was a baby on the same planet that we frequent missions to. Why is this groundbreaking?" she inquired, taking a sip of her drink. It was cooled off to the perfect temperature, and she sighed into it, feeling the caffeine course through her.

"Why are you being so mean? I’m just telling you a rumor I heard. You’re the one always complaining how you don’t know anything about the guy," she said, her mood instantly shifting to one that was more like her usual self. Aradia shrugged.

"I don’t actually care to learn his lore, Ace. I just work here."

"Well, whatever. We're going to be late. I'll meet you in the hangar," she said sharply, leaving the room before she could respond.

Aradia rechecked her datapad. She had a few more messages.

GROUP MESSAGE 0441
SENDER: MORDECAI HOPKINS
TIME: 06:07
MESSAGE: Oh, come on, Valentine. It's not that early. Didn't you get enough beauty sleep?

GROUP MESSAGE 0442
SENDER: ROMAN WEATHERMAY
TIME: 06:08
MESSAGE: I will strangle you with my bare hands.

GROUP MESSAGE 0443
SENDER: MORDECAI HOPKINS
TIME: 06:08
MESSAGE: Kinky. See you soon ;)

She checked the current time. 06:15. Work started in fifteen minutes. After chugging the rest of her coffee, she quickly changed into her flight suit and checked her appearance in the mirror. She braided her hair into two braids and looked at her makeup bag.

No time, she thought. She didn’t need makeup today anyway. She wasn’t trying to look pretty. She was trying to survive the day. Aradia grabbed her badge and flight bag and headed out the door.

Chapter Text

Aradia noticed Zahara instantly as she walked into the crowded hangar. Her hair had tufts of purple woven into it. She couldn’t help but wonder if she did it herself, and thought about how long it would take to do it all. Aradia hadn’t heard of any professional hair braiders at the First Order. She walked up to Zarhara and nudged her shoulder. She gave her a sad smile.

"Star, I am so sorry for how I acted back there. I shouldn't have gotten so defensive. Are you still my friend?" she asked. There was genuine concern in her voice as she spoke.

"Best friend, Ace. Don't worry about it," Aradia comforted her, giving her a small side hug.

Dimitri, Roman, and Mordecai also filed up to the two, exchanging pleasantries and yawns. Dimitri was tall, slender, and very pale. He was also very young – the youngest in the fleet. Aradia felt almost a maternal instinct towards him, although she was not much older. He had dark brown hair and hazel eyes, and a large, hooked nose. Roman, who was next to him, was very polished. There were never any wrinkles in his flight suit, and he held his ginger-topped head high, walking with his hands behind his back and certain pep to his step. Roman radiated maturity and discipline, and the wealth his family came from drips from his lips with every word.  Mordecai, on the other hand, did not come from wealth. Back on his home planet, he was a scavenger who happened to get a lucky break as a pilot after his mentor saw his land racing skills and decided to take a chance on him. Mordecai had olive skin and brown eyes, and many female employees giggled and whispered about his shoulder-length black hair and toned muscles that he was not shy to show off every chance he got. He was confident, almost to a point of arrogance, but his humble beginnings kept him in his place. Mordecai jokes around, but deep down, he would die for this fleet.

Captain Pierce walked up to the group, and Zahara nudged Aradia slightly, smirking at her, making her blush. She thought back to her thoughts from the morning and sighed. The fleet gathered into a line as the Captain addressed them.

"Good morning, officers. Today, you will be traveling to the planet of Chandrila to assess the culmination of crops. Their supply towards the First Order did not meet its monthly quota, and they claim it is due to poor crop quality as a result of lowered humidity levels. Your mission is to spread out amongst the fields and provide me with what you see as far as growth and prosperity are concerned. I will be in the Command Center if you need to reach me before you return."

"Yes, Captain," they all said in unison. He nodded in their direction and dismissed them all to go to their ships. Zahara stopped Aradia before she could go.

"You have to talk to him, girl," she said, motioning towards the captain. She grimaced.

"I can't, he's our boss. I can't date a higher-up," she said. Zahara rolled her eyes.

"At least try to casually message him. Start with ‘Hi, how are you?’ and see where it goes."

"Maybe. I'll consider it," she said, just to save face. She would never actually consider it. If he found her message even the slightest bit inappropriate, she’d be sent straight to the General's office, and General Hux creeped her out big-time.

Aradia boarded her ship and put on the helmet, accessing coms and hearing her team already talking.

"They don't call me Big D for nothing."

"No one calls you that, Dimitri."

"I thought your callsign was Nosebleed?"

"You guys only gave me that because of my ethnic nose. Racist, might I add. I need to change it."

"Too late."

"Ace signing on."

"Valentine present."

"Star signing on."

"Phoenix on air."

"CAWWWWW."

"Shut the fuck up, Dee."

"Nosebleed signing on."

"Alright, see you losers in Chandrila," Mordecai was the last to speak as Aradia finished her pre-flight inspection and ignited her engine, taking off into the blackness of space.

***

Chandrila was a pretty boring planet, she thought. It was nothing like her home planet of Coruscant. Where this planet had trees and sweeping landscapes, Whitehaven had glittering skyscrapers and speeding air traffic. Aradia’s father was a businessman in the upper parts of the system, so his speeder was one of the nicer ones. He would often take her on rides in it, and she’d hang her head over the side, much to his dismay, and feel the breeze flowing through her hair. It was then that she realized that being in the air was just something she was born to do.

As she looked over the agricultural status of Chandrila, there was nothing to report other than empty crop fields and a gloomy atmosphere.

Chandrila was beautiful. It was a green planet rich with plant life and trees, and probably a great place to raise children since the crime rate is so low and the education standards are kept high. She thought about what Zahara said about Commander Ren growing up here. Could it be true? Is Kylo Ren human? Regardless, she turned on comms.

"Star checking in. No findings. Crops and livestock undetected," she reported.

"Same here," Zahara said.

"Affirmative."

"Same."

"This planet sucks dick."

"So do you, Big D."

"I told you it would catch on eventually!"

"Back to home base. Over and out," she signed off, turning off comms and rolling her eyes. Sometimes working with men was exhausting.

As Aradia returned to the Command Shuttle, she unloaded from her ship and met up with the group in the middle of the hangar. Looking around, she noticed the usual hustle and bustle of the base, but one thing, in particular, caught her eye.

Octavian Pierce was talking to General Hux.

Or rather, General Hux was reprimanding Octavian Pierce. She could tell by his body language how he tried to stand up tall and orderly while continuing to look extremely uncomfortable at the same time. He amazed her at how he kept his composure. She walked a little closer to them, trying not to make it obvious she was trying to eavesdrop.

"I'd be careful who you form relationships with, Captain Pierce," she heard Hux say. "You wouldn't want to have to speak with the Commander, now would you?"

"No, General. I will make sure that she knows."

She? Who is she? Is Octavian already in a relationship? Aradia’s mind started to race as anger and jealousy bubbled inside of her. She balled her tense hands in and out of fists as she glared at Octavian, unmoving. Suddenly, the General looked over and saw her staring and glared.

“You are dismissed, Captain. I’ve got my eye on you,” he said, waving him off and sauntering his way over to where Aradia was seething. “Something wrong, Officer Cashmere? You seem angry,” he asked without a hint of sincere empathy in his voice.

Aradia snapped out of her trance and looked up at him, her eyes suddenly going wide. “No, um, General. Everything is fine. All good,” she stuttered out. When he didn’t respond, she forced a half-smile on her face and jutted out her hand to give him a thumbs-up. He rolled his eyes.

“If I catch you blatantly eavesdropping again, it’s a write-up. If you are meant to know information, you will be told directly. Am I understood?” she stared blankly. “Am I understood , Officer Cashmere? Do not make me ask again.”

She nodded furiously. “Yes, General. Understood,” she said. Hux took a step closer, and Aradia’s breath hitched in her throat.

His voice dropped to something quiet. Controlled. “One mistake, Officer Cashmere. That’s all it takes to end your flight career.” He smiled like it wasn’t a threat. But it was. Aradia closed her eyes and held her breath as he sauntered away.

Chapter Text

"Oh my Gods, Star! Are you okay?" Zahara asked.

"Yeah, I'm okay," she responded. She couldn’t stop thinking about what she had heard.

"Welp, you're fucked," Dimitri said. "What did you even say to piss him off like that?"

"I didn't say anything," she said, her head spinning. "I’m going back to my quarters. Don’t follow me."

Aradia sat on the edge of her cot, studying her badge in her hands. As she moved it around, she took note of how the light reflected off the metal. It was almost entrancing, but not enough to distract her. Her mind was racing. This is all your fault. If you hadn’t been such a coward, he would have been with you. But now, it’s too late. There’s someone else. He doesn’t want you. You’re nothing. She couldn't hold back the tears anymore as she let them burn trails into her soft skin. Suddenly, she heard her datapad ding with a message.

GROUP MESSAGE 0444

SENDER: MORDECAI HOPKINS

TIME: 14:04

MESSAGE: Hey, we down for group lunch today?

Aradia smiled slightly and wiped away her tears, replying to the group.

GROUP MESSAGE 0445

SENDER: ARADIA CASHMERE

TIME: 14:04

MESSAGE: Fuck yes.

GROUP MESSAGE 0446

SENDER: ROMAN WEATHERMAY

TIME: 14:05

MESSAGE: I could eat. Phasma's?

GROUP MESSAGE 0447

SENDER: DIMITRI VANOPOLOUS

TIME: 14:05

MESSAGE: I'll be there as long as Star is ;)

GROUP MESSAGE 0448

SENDER: ZAHARA ALSHAFEI

TIME: 14:05

MESSAGE: I'll be there!

Aradia collected herself. She pulled on a black crop top with the First Order emblem across the chest, leggings, and her flight jacket. Her hair was frizzy — good. Let it be. She dabbed on a little makeup, just enough to look alive. She wasn’t going out for him. She was going out for her . Taking a deep breath, she started walking towards Phasma's, a grill named after Captain Phasma. Aradia doesn’t think Captain Phasma has ever actually been there, but she doesn’t know what she looks like under her armor, so who knows? She giggled to herself at the thought of Captain Phasma, the badass, doing something as simple and normal as going out to lunch. It didn't sit right with her.

She went inside and saw that Dimitri and Roman were already waiting for her at a table. They waved her over, and she sat down. Her eyes were still bloodshot from crying, and she had a killer headache. Their smiles immediately turned to looks of concern.

"Woah, what the fuck happened to you?" Dimitri asked.

"Octavian Pierce happened," she spat.

Zahara and Mordecai entered together, already laughing about something. They found the table instantly and walked over. The flight crew all exchanged pleasantries and sat down, getting ready to order.

"So, what's everyone ordering? I'm starved,” Aradia asked, trying to mask how sad she was. She knew her friends could see right through her facade, but she really didn’t want to talk about it further.

She looked around the restaurant and saw a few familiar faces from around base, but one face in particular caught her eye. The one face she really did not want to see.

Octavian. With a girl. 

Her heart sank as she watched him whisper something into her ear, making her laugh. She was beautiful, her teeth perfectly straight and white, and her blonde hair falling in perfect waves down her back. Aradia tried to ignore them the entirety of lunch, focusing instead on her friends. It didn’t come easily. She tried not to look. Tried not to care. But the sound of her laughter hit like a sucker punch — soft, beautiful, and not hers. When it was time to pay, they all presented their IDs to use their credits on their account, but Aradia noticed hers was missing. She must have forgotten it on her cot when she was trying to distract herself with it.

"Hey, can one of you spot me? I forgot my badge," she asked.

"I will not be inconvenienced by your incompetence," said Roman, not looking up from his glass.

"Sorry, Star. Spent all my credits at the casino. This was my last dime," Mordecai said, shrugging.

"No."

Assholes.

“I can, Star. But you owe me,” Zahara said, handing the server her badge for the second time. Aradia hugged her.

“You’re the best. Say the word, I’ll pay you back. I promise,” she responded.

As they all stood up to disperse, Aradia glanced one last time at Octavian and the woman, but he was gone. She remained at the table, typing vigorously on her datapad and sipping her glass of wine. Aradia glared at her one last time before returning to her quarters for the rest of the night.

Chapter Text

BEEP BEEP BEEP

Aradia groaned as she shut off her alarm clock. Another day, another dollar. She got up and checked herself in the mirror. She looked awful, and probably should have taken a shower last night. She put a black turtleneck on under her flight suit and started her coffee pot. She then tapped on her datapad, checking for messages.

GROUP MESSAGE 0485
SENDER: OCTAVIAN PIERCE
TIME: 05:45
MESSAGE: Good morning, Officers! Today is a big day with a bigger announcement. See you soon!

Aradia rolled her eyes and shut it off, ignoring the incoming messages from her friends. She drank her coffee and headed down towards the hangar.

Everyone was there except Zahara. She guessed she was just running late.

Captain Pierce walked up to the group, and as always, they stood in a line at attention.

As she looked at him, she felt rage. But more than that, she felt heartbreak, jealousy, and a hint of betrayal. A woman was standing next to him – the same blonde-haired woman from Phasma’s. She wore a captain’s uniform, and her hair was tied tightly in a slicked-back bun.

"Officers, I'd like you to meet the woman on my right. This is Captain Lina Morosi, your new commanding officer. I have been promoted to the Command Shuttle under Commander Ren as my main duty. From now on, all of your missions will be run by her. As your first mission, as a test, you will be flying out to Tatooine to search for spice runners."

Aradia heard Dimitri sigh next to her, and she held back a laugh.

"Captain Morosi and I will be in the Command Center if you need to reach us. Dismissed."

"Yes, Captain."

In her ship, Aradia started her pre-flight inspection as she put her helmet over her head and turned on comms. She couldn’t believe her lover’s lover was now in charge of her. It was the kind of irony that makes people do self-sabotaging things.

"Star checking in."

"Sugar runners? For real? This is so below us," she heard Mordecai's voice say.

"Valentine checking in."

"It's a new captain, they have to make sure she's capable," Dimitri said.

"No, yeah, I get that, but still, it's so boring."

"Nosebleed checking in."

"I bet she's not. She doesn't look like she's ever even been in the cockpit of a ship," Aradia scoffed. Maybe it was her jealousy talking, but she didn't care. Then she thought that maybe working under someone who wasn't Octavian was a good thing. She immediately felt guilty for her accusation.

"Phoenix on air."

"We're missing Ace," Roman said.

"Maybe she's sick?"

"It’s fine, this isn’t a difficult mission. We can afford to be down someone. Let's head out," said Aradia as she started her engine.

As she took off into space towards Tatooine, Aradia could only think about Octavian. Part of her wanted to be happy for him that he was promoted. To be working under the Commander directly was a huge honor. But she couldn’t get past her disdain for him. She had to do something to get back at him. She didn’t want to be scared anymore. Her mind raced with different possibilities – she could “accidentally” break his datapad. No, he’ll just get a new one. He’s in power; he wouldn’t even be charged for the damages. She could sneak into Lina’s room at night and cut off all of her hair while she was asleep. Can’t do that either, the captain’s quarters are located in a gated area. I’d need her badge to access it. As she thought harder, all of her ideas had impossible consequences. Then, her mind wandered into uncharted territory. 

I could fuck Commander Ren.  

She blinked, the thought lingering like smoke. It was insane. Impossible. Dangerous. And yet — It made her heart race. Her thoughts were interrupted by the sound of Mordecai's voice coming through comms.

"There better be a spice runner convention today. I hope there are so many spice runners, we become spice runners ourselves just to fit in. I'm sick of these throw-away missions."

"Chill out, Phoenix. We'll be in and out," Aradia sighed.

She touched down in Tatooine and hopped out of her ship, meeting up with the others.

"I'll meet up with you guys in a bit, go ahead into the cantina. I have to do some work on my ship," she said, waving them off. They agreed and left her as she went back to her seat in her ship. Her mind was racing. There’s no way she could pull this off, but if she somehow did, there would be no better revenge than sleeping with Octavian’s boss. There were multiple problems with her plan, a big one being how terrified she was of him. Commander Ren was a large man, very tall with broad shoulders. His footsteps would echo throughout the base, and his presence was all around intimidating. He wore all black armor, draped in black robes and a cape that flowed menacingly behind him. And the scariest part – Aradia had no idea what he looked like. He wore an expressionless helmet at all times that covered his face, and black leather gloves hid his massive hands. As she thought more about it, though, the unknown was exciting to her, and his threatening aura was almost… erotic. She left her ship once again and headed into the cantina to meet up with her friends.

 They were in Mos Eisley, a port town full of criminals. It was perfect for their objective. She went into the cantina and found it booming with life and some species she had never seen before. The First Order logo on her flight suit caused some commotion as people stared at her; some with fear, others with disgust. A man spat on the floor when she walked by. Someone else stared too long and didn’t blink when she met their eyes. She ignored them and waltzed right up to the barkeep.

"What can I get for you, Officer? On the house," he said while cleaning a glass. She ordered for her group. He nodded and began making the drinks, which she took back to the table they were sitting at.

"So what's with the turtleneck?" Dimitri asked her before downing his shot. 

"Nothing, I was just cold," Aradia dismissed.

"Uh-huh. Cold. With the base staying at a steady million degrees," he said with a laugh. She rolled her eyes at him.

Aradia looked around the cantina to look for spice trades going on to report back to base. Sure enough, she spotted a table in a dimly lit corner of people gambling for it instead of credits. She got her group's attention and nodded in the direction of the trade. They nodded as they acknowledged it and started to look around for more. It wasn't their job to stop it; it was simply their mission to report it. They could easily lie and say they saw some when they didn't, and it would be believed from Mos Eisley. Aradia listened to the band playing jazz music on a stage in another corner as she looked for more spice trades, getting quickly bored. She noticed a human man and woman sitting together, giggling over drinks, and she rolled her eyes. It reminded her of Octavian and Lina, even though that probably wasn't a date now that she knows Lina’s position.

"Anyone notice anything of use?" she asked.

"Nothing that you wouldn't expect to see here," said Dimitri. Everyone nodded in agreement.

After about an hour at the cantina, they had all decided they’d seen enough. As Aradia got back in her ship, she turned on comms and spoke to her captains in the Command Center about the findings. 

"Star checking in. Spice trades as normal in Mos Eisley. A group was gambling for large portions of it in the corner of the cantina, as well as various other interactions were reported. Heading back to base."

All she could think about was how she was going to get to Ren's office. The excitement grew with every inch she grew closer to the Command Shuttle. When she touched down in the hangar, she wasted no time hopping out and starting her walk toward her quarters to plan it out; however, she was stopped mid-stride by Roman.

"Where are you going in such a hurry?" he asked. His voice was casual. but his eyes weren’t. Watching. Calculating. She paused, not really sure of what to say. She decided to tell the truth. Well, a half-truth at least.

"My room. I'm so tired, I think I'm going to go take a nap," she lied. It was believable en ough, she figured. He shrugged and waved her off, going back to talk to Dimitri and Mordecai. She turned back around and continued her walk towards corporate, making her way to her room.

She sat on her cot and grabbed her datapad out of her flight bag, opening a blank note sheet to map out her plan. Her mind went blank. As she stared at the blinking cursor, she couldn’t think of anything worth jotting down. She decided to message Zahara.

MESSAGE 0259
SENDER: ARADIA CASHMERE
TIME: 17:42
MESSAGE: Hey, you feeling okay? You didn't show up for today's mission. Just checking in.

She waited for a response, but one never came. Her datapad never dinged with a new message from her, and it concerned Aradia enough to go knock on her door. Nothing. No response.

"Hey, Ace? You in there?" she called through the door. She tried to listen in, to hear some rustling or anything else, but was met with silence. Weird. I hope she's okay, she thought as she went back to her room.

***

Waking up without a message from Octavian was nice. No "rise and shine" bullshit. Although she figured she'd be getting messages from Lina Morosi from now on, which was fine with her. It was still 06:00 when she woke up, even without an alarm. She guessed her body was just used to it. Aradia put on a pot of coffee and turned on some music on her datapad. As she danced around her room, she could only think about Zahara and how she wished she were there with her. In training camp, the two of them always danced with each other in each other's rooms to hype themselves up for the day. She still didn't have a response from her. 

Since Aradia had nothing to do, she decided to curl her hair and put some proper makeup on. She couldn’t remember the last time she wore this much makeup. It felt wrong — or maybe just new. She put on a short, black, long-sleeved dress and admired her reflection. She looked hot. She can't even recall the last time she was so dolled up. She didn't feel like wearing heels, so she put on a pair of black combat boots and messaged the group, starting a new chat thread.

GROUP MESSAGE 0001
SENDER: ARADIA CASHMERE
TIME: 06:30
MESSAGE: Good morning! Who's up and down for breakfast at Phasma's?

Aradia waited but received no response. She figured they were all still asleep. I wonder what time Commander Ren wakes up, she thought. It was too early for the secretary to be there, so she wondered if she could just walk up and see if he was in his office. I'm sure he wouldn't completely mind me giving him a progress report on an off-day. She waltzed up to her door to go, but as soon as her hand lay on the knob, she froze. She still didn’t really have a plan. Sighing, she went back to her cot and lay down. She stared again at the light filtering through the blinds onto the ceiling. After a while of doing absolutely nothing, she rolled over and checked her datapad, seeing that her friends were finally awake.

GROUP MESSAGE 0002
SENDER: MORDECAI HOPKINS
TIME: 07:45
MESSAGE: Yes! Breakfast sounds great.

GROUP MESSAGE 0003
SENDER: DIMITRI VANOPOLOUS
TIME: 07:46
MESSAGE: Sure.

GROUP MESSAGE 0004
SENDER: ROMAN WEATHERMAY
TIME: 07:46
MESSAGE: Most important meal of the day. I'll be there.

Still no message from Zahara. She checked the current time. 08:12. She had been up wasting time for two whole hours. She hoped they were still down to get food. As she went to type a group message, her datapad dinged.

Chapter Text

GROUP MESSAGE 0001
SENDER: LINA MOROSI
TIME: 08:12
MESSAGE: Good morning, officers! Your new captain here! I am so excited to be working with you all. Your first mission will be tomorrow at the normal time. More info to come, but I know you're going to be excited!

Aradia sighed. She did seem nice, and it was refreshing to have a captain whom she didn't have a crush on. She got up and headed toward Phasma's. Maybe they were already waiting for her there.

Luckily, they were, and they waved her over.

"What a surprise, the woman is late," Dimitri said. Aradia rolled her eyes.

"Misogyny is so funny, Dee. That one must've taken you all day to think of," she said sarcastically, sitting down. "Does anyone know what happened to Zahara?"

"Isn't she your best friend? You would know over any of us," Mordecai shrugged.

"Well, I don't, and it's worrying me," she said.

"I'm sure she's fine, Star. She'll be back and as chipper as ever before we know it," Roman said, rubbing her shoulder.  “Why are you all dressed up? You look…dapper. Of course, as nice as you can be.”

“Oh, yeah. Thanks, Valentine. I think. I don’t know, just got bored, I guess,” she said, suddenly feeling a bit insecure. She didn’t look like herself, and for a few days now, she hasn’t felt like herself either.

Aradia ordered breakfast and began to eat, forgetting for a second about Kylo Ren and Octavian Pierce completely. Her friends were the greatest distractions.

"So, what do we think Captain Morosi has planned for us tomorrow?" she asked.

"Hopefully something worth my time," said Mordecai. "That spice runner shit was painful."

"All you do is complain, Phoenix," Dimitri said, nudging him. "I thought that it was nice to have a simple mission. Like a brain break."

"It isn't a break if your brain is never working," Roman said, earning him a punch on the arm from Dimitri. Aradia laughed, then immediately became sad. She wished Zahara were there. She wished she knew where she was and if she was okay. Her anxiety about the situation was enough for her to dismiss herself and go back to Zahara’s room again to check on her, which her friends acknowledged and let her go.

"Zahara, let me in," she called, but was once again met with silence. Aradia sighed. Wherever you are, you better be okay.

Suddenly, her datapad dinged with a message. Her heart raced as she pulled it out of her bag and read it:

MESSAGE 0260
SENDER: ZAHARA ALSHAFEI
TIME: 11:42
MESSAGE: Hey, Star. I’m so sorry. I’ve been going through a pretty bad depressive episode. Catch up over some caffeine?

Depression wasn’t something that Aradia was entirely sure of what it meant. She just figured it was intense sadness. She thought everyone had it once in a while. Curious about what it meant to have an episode, and worried about her friend, Aradia quickly responded.

MESSAGE 0261
SENDER: ARADIA CASHMERE
TIME: 11:44
MESSAGE: Absolutely. Come over.

She rushed back to her own room and started her coffee pot. Soon enough, Aradia heard a knock at her door.

Chapter Text

A heavy silence filled Aradia’s room as she waited for Zahara to speak first. She looked up at her as she was sitting on the other side of her cot with nothing but concern in her eyes. The dim light filled the room as Aradia waited. Silence. Then–

“You should’ve told me,” she said. Zahara shrugged slowly.

“I didn’t want to make it your problem.”

“It’s not a problem. It’s you.”

More silence. Zahara looked down, and Aradia fidgeted with the edge of her sleeve, wondering if there was something she could do. She looked over at the coffee pot on the counter, still full and steaming faintly. She considered getting up and pouring them both a cup, but decided to stay right where she was.

“So…” Aradia trailed, starting to feel a bit awkward. “What does it mean? Depression. Like, you’re sad all of the time?”

Zahara shook her head. “Sort of,” she began. “But not really,” She took a beat. “It’s not crying all of the time, it’s… how do I explain it? It’s like I don’t feel anything . Like I’m on a ship, but the engines are all shut off. Just floating. Stagnant. I know I should care, but I don’t. I know I should get up, but I can’t. And then I get angry with myself because I should be stronger.”

There’s another pause. Aradia doesn’t know what to say. She opens her mouth slightly to speak, but words don’t come out. Zahara continues. 

“Okay, imagine like you’re watching your own life from outside your body. Like you are the main character in a movie, but you’re also a background character, just there to react to what the main character does. You see the people who love you. You know deep down they do, and you know you’re supposed to love them back. But it’s almost like your heart is on delay. Like you aren’t plugged in or something.”

It still didn’t make much sense to her, but she still wanted to sympathize with her. Not in a pitiful way, but in a way that she’s upset that anyone has to live like that, let alone her best friend. She placed a hand on Zahara’s knee wordlessly, and they both just sigh.

“I didn’t realize it felt like that. I’m sorry,” she said softly.

“I know,” Zahara looks up at her. She wiped her palms on her thighs and cleared her throat. “But when I see it, it cuts through it. Even when you’re a mess. Even when you’re spiraling. Even when you’re kind of a bitch,” Aradia giggled. “You make me feel like I’m here. Like I matter. Like I exist outside of the static.”

“You are here, Ace,” she said gently.

“I love you, Star.”

She smiled. “Yeah, I love you too.”

Zahara shook her head. “I love you.”

Again, Aradia sat confused, looking at her. She was waiting for her to continue, to add onto it, to say something . But she sat there looking back, her face more serious than she’s ever seen it be. Then, Aradia’s smile drops. Slightly, but noticeably.

“Oh…” she says, not wanting to sit in silence, but also having no idea how to respond. Zahara recoils, bringing her knees to her chest.

“It’s fine. You don’t have to say anything. I didn’t say it to get anything out of it. I just couldn’t keep holding it in. I had to say it at least once. Out loud.”

Aradia stood up off the cot and extended a hand. Reluctantly, Zahara took it and stood up with her. Then, Aradia pulled her in for a deep hug.

“I don’t know how to love like that, Ace. Not right now. Maybe not ever.”

“Yeah, I figured,” Zahara said, nestling into the crook of Aradia’s neck as she held her tighter. Aradia let go, keeping her hands on Zahara’s shoulders and looking her in the eye.

“However, you are the only person who makes me feel sane. Even when I’m halfway to detonating. Even when I’m kind of a bitch.”

Zahara let out a small laugh, her eyes starting to tear up. Aradia reached up and wiped a tear away from her eye.

“I love you, Zahara. Just not the way you deserve. And I’m sorry.”

She nodded. “You’re not a bad person for not feeling the same,” she said. Then, with her voice softened a bit, “Just don’t shut me out. That’s all I ask.”

“Never.”

Chapter Text

I love you.

The words spoken by her best friend echoed in her ears and rattled around in her brain, banging off the sidewalls and causing her eyes to shoot open in frustration. Aradia had been trying to sleep for hours now, but she had too many thoughts keeping her awake. She tapped on her datapad to turn it on, squinting at the blinding light.

03:42.

She had to start work in less than four hours, and here she was, wide awake. She groaned in frustration and ripped the covers off of her, sitting up onto the edge of her bed.

“Well, if I can’t sleep, I might as well get a head start,” she muttered to herself. She got up and changed into her flight suit. She had a few things she’s been meaning to fix on CRN-A1, her Tie Fighter, which she lovingly calls “Carinae” after a star destined to explode. She recalls a time when Dimitri made fun of her for naming her ship after a dying star, saying it was a bit too on the nose. She dismissed him, though, because he calls his ship “The Cocket.”

The hangar was near silent, save for the soft flicker of lights and the occasional hiss of cooling steam. Aradia lay flat on the grated floor, her flight suit crumpled up in a ball next to her, and her hair pulled back off her neck. Her bare arms were smudged with grease and carbon soot as she worked elbows-deep and gloveless in the guts of her ship – peneling removed, circuits exposed, conduits unlaced. She liked the feel of the tools in her hands and the heat of the plasma coils as they radiated faintly from the engine core. The junction coupler was corroded again, and she’d been meaning to rewire the nav-line anyway. She was focused, totally in tune with the tech. On facts. On tangible things that made sense.

Her wrist flicked, triggering the micro-solder. The filament hissed blue as she repaired the scorched trace line along the guidance board. It wasn’t even her job – maintenance crews were sure to handle all of it in the morning – but she couldn’t stand the idea of sitting still. Not with her mind spinning like a destabilized thruster.

He doesn’t even know what he did . That’s what burned the most. Octavian had stood there earlier, arms behind his body, voice calm, as if he were a toy soldier. As if he hadn’t shattered her with that damn briefing. As if he hadn’t chosen Lina’s authority over hers. Over her .

Not that she’d ever even told him how she felt. How could she? He was the golden boy. The quiet, unreadable captain who always did things by the book. Who complimented her flying once and made her heart jump, then never brought it up again. She’d spun castles out of nothing, and he burnt them all to the ground.

Aradia slid out from beneath the ship, blinking against the harsh hangar lights. Her ship loomed above her, matte black and streaked with coolant. To anyone else, it was hideous. Unsightly. Boring. But Carinae was her life, and she was hers . She earned her. She ran her hand along the fuselage, feeling the gentle hum of the stabilized energy grid still cycling down.

No one could take this from her. Not Lina Morosi. Not General Hux. Not Octavian fucking Pierce. Not even her own bruised pride.

She climbed into the cockpit and flicked the primary systems online just to hear them hum to life. The console bathed her in cool light. Gyro calibration: 99.7%. Weapons lock: cold. Comms: silent.

Her reflection ghosted across the canopy, and she finally got a glimpse of herself. Her jaw was tight, eyes unreadable. She was a fraction of who she thought she was. She needed to level up, be bigger, be better, be more. And there was one decision that would make her all of that. As she looked at herself, she realized she looked like someone who had already decided.

And she had.

Chapter Text

Aradia sat on the ramp of Carinae, her jacket half-unzipped with the sleeves tied around her waist, and her datapad glowing in her lap. She kept rereading the message she had sent. She didn’t think twice about it — she was never more sure of anything in her life.

MESSAGE 0001

SENDER: ARADIA CASHMERE

TIME: 05:12

MESSAGE: I’ve uncovered movement within Nova Squadron that doesn’t match any approved directives—quiet shifts, off-manifest, but deliberate. I don’t trust the comms, and I don’t trust the chain. If you want the truth, you’ll need to hear it from me directly. I won’t waste your time with reports. I think you’ll find I’m more useful than you’ve been led to believe.

It was a complete lie, of course. But she had to think of something . Anything that sounded important enough to get his attention, but still believable enough that it wouldn’t instantly backfire. Messaging the Commander directly was extremely risky, and she knew the cost if it didn’t go as planned. She didn’t even know if he would see it.

“I read your message,” she heard. It startled her, and she jerked, then turned slowly. Octavian stood at the base of the ramp, arms crossed, uniform as sharp as ever. But his eyes — his emerald green eyes that she had grown to love so much—were on her. They had lost the sparkle she had once seen in them. Now his green eyes were just that. Green.

“You must be honored. I don’t send those to just anyone,” she said, sarcasm dripping from every word.

“Ren forwarded it to me. Said it ‘reeked of desperation’. Asked me to look into it,” he explained calmly. Ouch. “So, here I am.”

She clicked off her datapad, slowly and deliberately.

“And what exactly are you investigating, Captain?” she asked.

“You. Apparently.”

A beat passed. She stared at him, seething, choosing her next words carefully.

“Of course, he sent you. What a perfect little soldier,” she spat.

His jaw clenched. She couldn’t tell if he was angry or not. She hoped he was.

“Is that what you think of me?”

“I think you’re a coward, ” she said, emphasizing the term. He was silent for a moment, the cutting word hanging in the air, waiting to suffocate them both.

“Excuse me?” He asked, uncrossing his arms and taking a step towards her. She stood up briskly.

“You saw what I could do. You know I’m better than half the pilots on your roster. You said it once, then never said anything again. I didn’t want praise, Octavian. I wanted you,” she felt herself getting choked up, but swallowed it. It felt like razors going down. “And you didn’t even notice.”

“That’s not fair.”

She laughed. Bitter. Hollow. “Fair? Since when has any of this shit been fair , Octavian?”

He took another step forward slowly as if he was afraid she might disappear. 

“You think I haven’t been watching you? That I didn’t notice the way you fly—like every risk is just a challenge to be seen?” he asked. She stood taller, mustering up any fake confidence she could. She couldn’t appear weak. Not now. Not anymore. “I saw you, Aradia. I just didn’t know how to reach you.”

“Then maybe Ren will,” she said. The name cut through him. He felt ice in his veins as he grew even closer to her. This was a dangerous conversation they were having, and he knew it. If anyone heard them, his position would be compromised.

“You’re burning up for attention.”

Her breath caught in her throat. “And you’re finally giving it.”

“I’ve always given it. You just wanted someone cruel enough to hurt you for it,” he said, then quieter: “You think Ren will see you? He will break you.”

Aradia took a step closer to him, her eyes never leaving his. He seemed desperate, almost pleading. She didn’t care. She hated him. “You’re only used to being right because no one ever challenges you.”

“And you’re only chasing him because I didn’t choose you.”

She froze. The razors she swallowed made their way to her chest cavity, and with the permission of those words, started ripping canals into her heart. There was a long pause, the two of them just staring. Breathing.  Her hand moved fast, fisting the front if his uniform and yanking him in closer to her.

Their mouths hovered, breaths mingled. She was still looking into his eyes, then glanced down at his lips. Before any thoughts could progress, he spoke.

“You think this makes you powerful? Sending him that message? Lying to your unit? Lying to me? ” he asked, still quiet, still careful.

“Don’t flatter yourself. You’re not that important,” she responded, still staring at his lips. She thought about how she used to dream of this — being this close, seeing him at this angle. Her breath hitched, and she brushed her bottom lip against his.

“Bullshit.”

“Maybe you’re right. Maybe I do think this makes me powerful,” she whispered.

“You’re being reckless, Aradia. Ren would kill you and throw your body into the void without a second thought. You don’t matter to him. You won’t matter to him. But you matter to me, and to your fleet. Don’t do this. You want to be seen? Fine. I see you now. But what you’re doing—this path you’re choosing—it won’t end the way you think it will.”

She pulled back slightly and looked back up into his eyes. Is he begging me? She thought about it for a second more. But as she looked at him, a razor cut a bit too deep, and it made her gasp slightly. Her pain was agonizing. Nothing Ren could do to her would hurt as much as this.

“Too late.”

And she let him go. She pushed him off aggressively, causing him to stumble a bit, and turned around, walking back up the ramp into her ship. Her safety. Her home. 

He stood there in the dark, stunned. He couldn’t get out another word, but nothing he could say would change her mind. The door closed behind her and sealed with a hiss.

She never looked back.

Chapter Text

Aradia slinked down into the pilot’s seat of Carinae with her eyes closed. Taking a deep breath, she opened them and looked around at the control panel in front of her. She caressed the buttons with her hand, feeling a surge rush through her. This is where she’s meant to be, the place she feels safe.

“Guess it’s just you and me now, huh?” she asked her ship. Work was supposed to start soon, the first mission led by Captain Morosi. She said it was going to be exciting. Aradia tried distracting herself by thinking of different things it could possibly be, but she then heard her datapad ding with a notification. She assumed her friends were starting to wake up, or maybe it was Morosi giving the fleet a good morning pep talk. She checked it out.

MESSAGE 0001

SENDER: [ENCRYPTED]

TIME: 05:48

MESSAGE: Officer Cashmere. Report to Subdeck Theta at 06:00. Come alone.

Her breath caught. She coughed – not from surprise, but from how fast her heart had leapt. This is it , she thought. Subdeck Theta needed authorized approval for entry, so someone in her position would typically never be down there. She didn’t have a lot of time, and she was covered in grease, sweat, and all other kinds of things that one would not want to make a first impression on someone with Commander Ren’s power. Maybe it looks like I’m hardworking, maybe it’s okay , she thought. She exited her ship and started down the long journey to Subdeck Theta, grease and all.

The corridors in the lower levels of the Command Shuttle were nothing like the parts she was used to. No lights overhead, just low, flickering strips near the floor. The air was colder. Sterile. She felt as if the walls were watching her, and her boots echoed sharply as she walked. There was no hiding; she was undeniably there.

She shoved her trembling hands inside her jacket pockets as she approached a sealed door at the end of the hallway. No guard. No badge scanner. No welcoming prompt. As she stood there, she started to feel a bit awkward. Should I knock? Suddenly, a voice was heard:

“Clearance accepted. Entry granted.”

The doors hissed open on their own. The room before her was unlike any other part of the ship she had ever been in. It was vast and empty, only supplying one long steel table and a single chair. There were no windows, dim lights, dead air, and a feeling that she wasn’t alone. She stepped through slowly, and the doors slammed shut behind her, finalizing her fate. 

Thirty seconds pass. She debates whether she should sit down or not. She chooses not to. Then, abruptly, she felt a presence behind her. She turns swiftly.

Commander Ren wasn’t a man. Not in this moment. He was a presence – vast, cold, and calculating. She’s only seen him from afar, but to be this close to him, she had never felt smaller. So insignificant. So…powerless. His uniform was pristine, every layer with a purpose in mind. There was no visible rank, no badge, nothing. His helmet covered his face, yet she could still sense that his expression was unreadable, cold, and a bit too calm.

The two of them stood there a moment in silence, just staring. He didn’t offer his name, and didn’t ask hers. He was just staring , like she was a tool somebody left on the wrong shelf.

“You wanted to be useful,” his booming, modulated voice said.

Aradia steadied herself. “I did. I assumed you valued efficiency.”

“I value results. Not desperation wrapped in flattery,” he spat. She didn’t flinch, but she felt her heartbeat quicken. He knows.

“Was it flattery, Commander? Or was it initiative?” she asked. He took a step forward, slowly, like a predator unsure if it’s worth the strike.

“You don’t trust your Captain. You don’t trust your fleet. And now you’ve come to me without data, without proof, and without an idea of what to say. Explain yourself.”

She stood a bit taller. “I came because I thought you were the only one who might understand what I’m capable of,” she explained. He paused. He tilted his head a bit as he looked at her – admiring? Angry? Debating how to kill her without anyone noticing? She wasn’t sure.

“And what exactly, Officer, do you believe you are capable of?” he asked. Aradia caught almost a glimmer of amusement in his voice. Or maybe it was irritation. She continued.

“I’m capable of what anyone would expect from me and more. I’m underutilized by my squadron, and I believe with the right words, I can be a much more valuable asset not only to you, but to the First Order,” she said. She folded her hands behind her back and raised her head slightly. She wanted to appear confident, although her brain was screaming. He took a few more steps, circling her, trying to see right through her lie. She stood still.

“The right words. Do you believe this is about rhetoric?” he asked. He was close now – not close enough to touch, but she could still feel him all over her. His voice lowered as though he were telling a secret no one should hear. “You messaged me at 05:12 with falsified concerns. You bypassed your chain of command. You gambled your rank. And now, you want to stand here and waste my time by selling me a speech?” Although quiet, his words were cutting. Spite and anger melted off of each word. 

“I’m not selling anything, Commander. I’m offering myself. Strategically,” she said. Aradia knew that there was little point in keeping up the lie; he clearly didn’t believe a word of it. But if that’s true, why did he call me here? Why didn’t he just punish me and move on?

“No. You’re testing me. You want to see how far you can go before I decide you’re more trouble than you’re worth,” he concluded, stepping even closer. She could see her reflection faintly in his visor now, and if she focused, she could almost feel his breath on her cheek as he spoke. “You think I don’t recognize hunger when I see it?”

She inhaled sharply through her nose as she thought quickly of what to say next. Remember why you’re here, Star. She mustered up a small smirk. Not kind, not bashful, not weak . “Would it be so wrong to want to impress the most powerful man in the galaxy?” she asked in a soft voice.

Ren stopped circling her, and she felt the temperature in the room drop. “Impress me?” he started. The chill ran through her. “You came here to be seen .”

A heavy silence hung between them, her heartbeat loud in her ears. Was he eavesdropping on her conversation with Octavian? How else would he–

“Everyone wants to be seen, Officer. But most are too weak to survive it,” He leaned down, his voice just above a whisper as he spoke directly into her ear. “Be careful what you ask for, Officer Cashmere. I’m not here to play your game. I’m here to push you. To break you into who you can become. You believe you’re strong enough. I’m here to test that.”

Aradia doesn’t step back, doesn’t flinch. Instead, she turns and faces him, their faces just barely an inch apart.

“Watch me. I’ll show you how bright I can burn.”

He straightens. She wishes she could see his face, read his expression, something . He turned his back on her without a word and walked towards the door. Just before exiting, he stops.

“You want fire, Officer? Don’t scream when you’re engulfed in it.”

He exited the room before she could respond, the door hissing shut, leaving her alone with her thoughts, adrenaline still rattling through her. She doesn’t exhale in relief, but something electric in her chest ignites.

He took the bait. Now she has to survive the game.

Chapter Text

It was at this point that Aradia realized that the time was nearly 06:30, and she had to report to the hangar for work. It was going to be the first mission not led by Octavian, and her new Captain Morosi promised excitement. She was too tired to even brainstorm what the mission could be.

She stepped into the hangar like she hadn’t just sold a piece of her soul half an hour ago. Her boots were scuffed, her shirt stuck to her back, and her hair clung to her face in limp strands that smelled faintly of coolant.

Zahara noticed her first, her face instantly dropping. “You look like hell,” she muttered to her as she walked up to the line.

“Thanks,” Aradia said, “it’s my new look. I call it ‘overworked and underpaid-chic’.”

Zahara didn’t laugh. Instead, she decided not to push further, and went back to talking to the others. They hadn’t noticed the state Aradia was in yet. She didn’t care. Her mind was reeling.

The room seemed to fall silent as the sound of heels clacking against the porcelain floor grew louder. Each step sounded sharp and deliberate as Captain Morosi entered with a smile as warm as polished chrome.

“Good morning, officers!” she exclaimed brightly. Her tone didn’t match her perfectly polished appearance at all. It was a bit jarring. “Hope you’re all feeling rested. We have a very exciting day ahead of us,” she started. Aradia fought the urge to laugh. She was suddenly very aware of her posture – she didn’t look professional at all. Great first impression, Star.

“Today, you will be travelling on a reconnaissance flight near Kessel,” Morosi continued, her smile unwavering. “It’s a dormant mining planet, supposedly. We’re just there to check in, gather data, and return. Standard protocol.”

The fleet subtly exchanged glances, uncomfortable and confused.

“Excuse me, Captain, but that area is outside the bounds of our flight path,” Roman spoke up. She turned her attention to him.

“Thank you for that information, Officer Weathermay. However, as your Captain, you should assume I am aware of your usual perimeter. I do not assign this mission lightly and, rest assured, the other Captains and higher authority have all been made aware of these arrangements,” she explained. Roman lowered his head wordlessly, and she directed her focus once more to the group as a whole.

“Coordinates as well as a bulleted list of the plan can be found on your datapads. Oh, and one last thing,” she continued. They looked at her expectantly. “Officer Cashmere will be flying solo on this mission. You will find alternate plans in your files.”

This stirred the group. Aradia just stared. She didn’t know if she was in shock, honored, or just confused. Perhaps all of the above.

“She works better in a group setting, Captain,” Zahara spoke up. Aradia shot her a quick look of annoyance, then retracted and looked back at Captain Morosi.

“Yes, Officer Alshafei, that’s correct,” she began. “which is precisely why she is working alone. She should show me what she is capable of on her own.”

Aradia didn’t flinch. Didn’t blink. If anything, her lips curled — just slightly — like she’d been waiting for this exact moment to arrive.

A few heads turned toward her. She didn’t return their stares. 

Zahara leaned in, voice low. “You want me to swap with you? I’ll tell her you’re not fit to fly. I mean, look at you, Star. No offense.”

Aradia didn’t even glance at her.

“Why would I do that?” she said coolly. “She just handed me center stage.”

Zahara blinked. “You’re serious?”

“Of course I’m serious, Ace. She just gave me what Octavian never had the balls to.”

Morosi had already dismissed them, but Aradia could still feel her gaze like the glint of a knife reflecting light from across the room.

She sat in the pilot’s seat and searched her datapad for her mission information. Aradia located the file, tapping it open and reading the pop-up message:

MESSAGE: NEW DIRECTIVE RECEIVED.

LET’S SEE HOW FIRE-RESISTANT YOU REALLY ARE. DO NOT DISAPPOINT ME.

She smirked. The message didn’t need a signature for her to know who had sent it. So this isn’t Lina’s idea at all, is it? She won’t be watching me.

You are.

Chapter Text

The rest of the fleet watched as Aradia departed, flying off into the unknown on vague terms. They dispersed, awaiting instruction. Their mission didn’t require them to leave yet, so they waited.

Dimitri paced in slow loops around his helmet like it had personally offended him. Mordecai sat on a supply crate, chewing on a protein bar and scowling at the floor. Zahara leaned against a bulkhead with her arms crossed and jaw clenched tight. Zahara kept looking at the empty bay where Carinae usually sits, expecting it to creak open and for Aradia to return. To change her mind. Yet they remained shut and sealed, her choice unwavering.

“She didn’t even hesitate,” Mordecai said eventually. “You all saw that, right?”

Dimitri stopped pacing. “Because she’s insane.”

“She’s prepared,” Roman corrected, not looking up from his datapad.

“Prepared?” Dimitri echoed. “She looked like she hadn’t slept. She was swimming in ship shit.”

Zahara didn’t move. “She wanted it.”

Mordecai snorted. “That’s what scares me.”

A moment passed. Then two. Zahara finally spoke. “Do you think Lina did it to test her?”

“No,” Roman said immediately. Then, quieter: “I think she wanted her out of the way.” That earned him a few looks. He shrugged, still tapping through mission data. “You don’t pull your strongest pilot unless you’re proving a point.”

“She isn’t our strongest,” Lina’s voice cut in. The group turned. The new Captain stood just a few feet away — uniform crisp, braid coiled high, smile serene and knife-sharp. “Each of you has a different strength,” she continued. “And I’m not in the business of playing favorites.”

“Why her then? Specifically?” asked Dimitri. For once, there wasn’t a single hint of sarcasm or comedy in his voice. He was stern. Angry. Captain Morosi’s smile didn’t move. She looked at Dimitri like she was deciding whether to bother responding.

“Suit up, Officers. Your mission begins in twenty minutes.” As she left, the fleet grew closer. They didn’t want any more interruptions.

“My theory? Star is on thin ice. I think this is a final test to see if she’s worth keeping on as a pilot or demoting her. Or worse,” Mordecai told them, his voice just above a whisper. Zahara scoffed.

“That’s ridiculous, she’s practically been our leader on these past few missions. And every one has been successful,” she said.

Mordecai shrugged. “Maybe this has something to do with her crush on Daddy Pierce,” Dimitri theorized.

“That’s inappropriate and completely illogical, even coming from you,” Roman scolded. “The only reason we know about her obsession with our former Captain is because she told us personally. He doesn’t know, and Morosi surely doesn’t know.”

“Just kinda crazy she didn’t explain Star’s mission. Like, at all. It just feels like we aren’t allowed to ask questions anymore,” Mordecai sighed. He shrugged and stood up, shoving the balled up wrapper of his snack into his jacket pocket.

“And what about our mission? This isn’t protocol,” Zahara said, frowning. “We shouldn’t even be flying near this sector.”

Roman knelt down to place his datapad back into his bag. “There’s no protocol in space. Just expectation and punishment.”

“That’s bleak, even for you,” Mordecai muttered. Roman stood up and looked directly at Mordecai, eyes cool. “My father used to say that to me before every training exam. I assumed it applied here, too.”

Silence.

Zahara tilted her head. “Your father’s not flying this ship.”

A pause. “No,” Roman said quietly. “But I am.”

They disperse, all loading onto their respective ships and completing their pre-flight inspections.

“Ace signing on.”

“Valentine present.”

“Phoenix on air.”

There was a pause. The silence filled their comms with a slight static. They waited.

“Nosebleed signing on.”

And they were gone.

Chapter Text

The ride was silent. Too silent. The instructions were clear – infiltrate the enemy supply outpost, rig the device, and start the detonator. In the details section of the mission, it read: “Unmanned. Abandoned. A test of infiltration and obedience.”

Seemed simple enough, she thought. It was just her and Carinae, and a blinking red dot on the map that was well out of the fleet’s jurisdiction.

Aradia landed in darkness. The outpost was buried into the rock face like a scar, and it sent a small chill down her spine. She wasn’t nervous, but that didn’t stop it from being so damn eerie .

As Carinae powered down behind her, she pulled the detonator from her belt. Sleek. Cold. Simple. For the first time since arriving at the academy, Aradia walked into the mission unleashed. She had no expectations, only permission.

The facility door hissed open without resistance. Dying yellow lights flickered overhead. She felt like she was walking into a crime scene. She crept past rusted crates, scorched panels, and the occasional streak of dried blood long ago oxidized. There was no movement. No hum of machines.

Just more silence.

At the end of the long hallway, there was a room with a very high ceiling. It was made of glass, and most of the panels had been shattered. Her boots crunched carefully on the broken shards below her as she made her way to what looked to be the power core chamber.

Kneeling, she set the explosive against the central conduit with a soft click of magnetic contact. Her nimble fingers moved quickly, and the procedure felt almost familiar to her.

Ten minutes. That should be enough time for me to get the hell out of here.

Aradia stood up, ready to detonate and leave. Mission accomplished. She did what she came here to do. Taking one final glance up at the ceiling, she heard it.

A young voice. It was faint as it echoed down the hall.

“Hello?”

She froze.

Her heartbeat didn’t spike. Her hand didn’t tremble. But something in her chest shifted.

She knew she should leave, but her boots turned on their own, down the hall from which she heard the voice. She raced down one corridor. Then another, past a broken camera. Then, she saw them.

Four young men, not children, but not flying age. They were donned in filthy uniforms, huddled around a broken heater. One had bandages around his leg, and another was muttering to himself as he sat alone in a corner.

They hadn’t seen her. She held her breath.

“Is it time yet?”

“I told you–they left us here. No one is coming.”

“I think I heard something. Maybe a rescue?”

“Don’t be stupid, Oliver. We’re going to die here.”

Aradia stood in the shadows and watched, then stepped back. She took off running towards the power core, the stagnant blinking light on her detonator still reading at ten minutes. She activated her comms.

“Target is compromised. Civilian presence confirmed.”

There was a pause. A long one. 

Where the hell is Morosi? She should be in the Command Center.

“Proceed.”

The voice that came through her comms wasn’t Lina’s – it was smooth. Cold. Masculine. 

Ren.

“Collateral is part of command, Officer Cashmere. I thought you understood that.”

Aradia stared at the trigger in her hand. Closing her eyes, she pressed the button.

The voices down the corridor had quieted. Someone laughed, but it lacked any glee that a laugh should have when you’re with friends. One boy was telling a story about a dog they used to have. Or maybe they were hallucinating.

She crouched beside the detonator, checked the seal, and adjusted the delay by sixty seconds, enough time to walk, not run, back to Carinae. Her breath stayed even. On her way out, she didn’t look back. She didn’t rush. She walked through the flickering halls, past the rusted signs and ancient bloodstains. Just before she stepped outside–

“Hey.”

A boy who was no older than sixteen stood halfway down the corridor. He was thin and pale. At first glance, Aradia thought it was Dimitri. She felt a twinge of pain in her chest as she stared at him.

“Are you here to save us?” he asked.

She didn’t say a word.  The timer on the bomb ticked away mercilessly. She just looked at him, long enough for the glint of hope in his expression to sour into one of misery.

“Run,” she said.

Then she was gone.

Carinae’s engines ignited before the blast hit, but she still felt it through the air and through her ribs. It was imminent in the silence that followed. There was a ripple of light on the horizon, and a bloom of dust where the mountain used to be. She didn’t hear the detonation; her ears were ringing louder than ever before as she stared blankly ahead of her. The sky stretched out, colorless and cruel. Ash peeled off Carinae’s wings like plaster.

In the cockpit, her hands hovered over the controls. Then curled into fists. Nothing had changed, but she felt it. Not regret, exactly. Just…weight. The kind you carry in your lungs long after, and it settles in slowly like gravity.

She could still see the boy’s face. So innocent, so familiar. He’d looked at her like he didn’t know what she was. And maybe she didn’t really have a clue either. She exhaled slowly as she watched the stars blur in the path of the ship climbing out of the atmosphere. A notification pinged on her console.

MESSAGE RECEIVED: MISSION ACCOMPLISHED

AS EXPECTED.

No praise. No congratulations. Just two words etching themselves into her eyes, into her memory. Then, she tapped the message once and deleted it.

She didn’t need to respond. The message was clear. She wasn’t waiting for anyone’s permission anymore. She was exactly who she thought she was.

Chapter Text

The landing pad hissed under Carinae’s weight.

Aradia stepped out of the cockpit still in her flight suit, streaked with ash and grime. Her grimy hair was half-matted, curls falling into her face. She didn’t wipe them away.

The hangar was full.

Her squad was already back—ships parked, helmets off, scattered in tight circles around gear cr ates and debrief screens. Their posture was stiff. No one laughed. No one even noticed her at first.

She walked in like nothing had happened.

Like she hadn’t just killed four boys and buried a mountain.

Aradia was halfway through unzipping her flight suit when Dimitri stepped in front of her.

He didn’t speak right away. Just looked at her. Really looked.

She expected a joke, some snarky little line about her being late or showing up dirty. But he didn’t say anything like that. Instead:

“Are you okay?”

It was quiet. Too quiet.

The others paused, waiting for her to roll her eyes, wave him off, say of course I’m okay—but she didn’t. Not right away. Something flickered in her eyes. A breath caught just behind her teeth.

Because he looked like him .

The boy in the corridor. The one who asked if she’d come to save them. Same pale skin. Same wide eyes. And the same youthfulness that he hadn’t burned out yet.

She blinked—too slow.

“What kind of mission were you even on?” Dimitri asked, his voice lower now. “That wasn’t a drill, was it?”

“Drop it,” she said. Too fast. Too sharp.

He stepped closer. “Seriously. What happened?”

Her jaw locked. She could feel her fingernails pressing into her palms. Too hard.

“I followed orders.”

“That’s not an answer.”

Her breath hitched. Just for a second.

“You want details?” she said, eyes flashing. “You want to know what kind of things they ask you to do when they think you’re strong enough to handle them? You want to know how far it goes?”

He froze. The room was silent. She was shaking—but only barely. Just enough that Dimitri noticed. Just enough that she noticed. Aradia took a step back, suddenly too aware of how quiet the hangar was.

“Don’t ask questions you’re not ready to hear the answers to.”

Dimitri didn’t move. Didn’t push. He just looked at her again. Not with judgment.

With fear.

Not of what she did, but of what it meant. He realized then that he had no idea what she was capable of, or who she even was anymore.

Zahara approached her with her arms crossed, slowly. Methodically. “We tried to comm you. Lina said you were running a systems check. That was five hours ago.”

They were angry. Suspicious. Confused.

“Sorry I missed the field trip,” she said, unbothered. “Mine was… a little more advanced.”

Zahara stepped forward. “What does that mean?”

“It means,” Aradia said, peeling off her gloves, “that while you were scouting empty tunnels, I was proving I can handle more than what’s been handed to me,” She looked at each of them in turn. Not apologetic. Not defensive. Just honest. “I had orders.”

“From who? Because it definitely wasn’t Captain Morosi,” Mordecai asked. His voice was angry, but quiet. Careful.

She looked at him. “Don’t be ridiculous. I—”

Zahara stepped in, jaw tight. “You know what’s funny?” she interrupted, voice low but hot. “You’ve been here two minutes and haven’t asked a single thing about our mission.”

Aradia turned, brows pinching. “Should I?”

Zahara’s eyes flashed. “I don’t know. Maybe if you gave a shit .”

Dimitri shifted beside her, still watching. Mordecai muttered something under his breath—too quiet to catch. Roman didn’t speak at all.

Zahara pushed forward. “You disappear all day, ghost all comms, and now you walk in like you’re too good to be briefed with the rest of us?”

Aradia’s face twitched.

“I didn’t get pinged,” she snapped. “Nothing came through. I wasn’t connected to the fleet.”

The room stilled. 

“What do you mean you weren’t connected?” Mordecai asked, straightening up now. “Your comms were blacked out? That’s–”

“Not standard protocol,” stated Roman.

“ Above your clearance ,” he finished.

“It wasn’t a choice,” Aradia said, sharper this time. “I was off the net. My orders came through a closed channel.”

A beat.

Zahara took a breath. Then scoffed. “You expect us to believe that?”

Aradia’s eyes flicked between them all. Her pulse was spiking, but she kept her voice level. “Believe whatever you want. I had orders.”

“From who?” Roman asked again, quieter this time. “Lina didn’t send you. We all know that.”

Silence. Aradia didn’t answer. Because saying his name would change everything.

Zahara looked her over—really looked now. The grime on her flight suit. The sweat and grease emulsified in her braid. “You didn’t just miss a mission, Star,” Zahara said, her voice flat. “You were somewhere else . You were gone. Vanished! You left us here to die. And now you stand there, and it’s like you’re still on your fucking mission. You don’t care! You weren’t there ! You left!”

Aradia held her ground. “I followed orders,” she said again.

“Yeah,” Zahara muttered. “I bet you did.”

That’s when Lina’s voice rang out from above.

“Officers.”

They all turned. Captain Morosi’s usual smile — although seemingly plastered — was gone. She was serious, her lips pursed tightly and her stare could shoot daggers. The fleet stood at attention.

“Briefing in ten minutes. I expect you all there, lined up, and ready to go in nine. All of you,” she spat, directing the last line at Aradia. She stood up straighter. Zahara scoffed and brushed past her, intentionally hitting her with her shoulder as she did.

“See you in nine, Commander Cashmere. ”

Chapter Text

The restroom lights buzzed overhead—too bright, too sterile.

Aradia stood alone at the sink, gripping the counter, her head bowed low. Her reflection looked back at her like a stranger. The faucet of the sink was turned onto the hottest setting, flowing viciously down the drain, steaming the mirror.

Ash smeared across her cheekbone. Grease dried and cracked on her hands. Her hair had particles in it she couldn’t even make out to be what they were. Her eyes were so bloodshot it almost looked deliberate.

She hadn’t slept.

Not since before Zahara’s confession.

Not since before Ren’s message.

It felt like a week ago. It hadn’t even been a day.

Her hands trembled as she turned on the water. She scrubbed without thinking. Fingernails. Knuckles. Palms. Over and over, like it would change anything. The grease was gone, but her skin still felt dirty.

She leaned forward, bracing herself, eyes locked on her reflection.

“You got what you wanted,” she whispered.

No one answered.

The door creaked open behind her, but sh e didn’t look.

Zahara stepped in quietly, then paused—hesitating just inside the frame. She watched Aradia for a moment. Saw the way her shoulders sagged, how she kept her weight pressed forward like standing upright required too much effort. She didn’t say anything. Aradia didn’t even notice she was there.

Or maybe she did—and just didn’t care.

She rinsed her face, dragging the water down her neck, letting it drip onto her flight suit. It didn’t matter anymore. She was soaked in it. In grime. In silence. In the knowledge that she had finally, finally, done something no one could take away from her.

Zahara shifted like she wanted to say something. Maybe soften. Maybe ask again. But Aradia turned her back before she could.

She peeled the top half of her flight suit down and shoved it into her flight bag, along with her boots. Then, without another word, she walked out, too exhausted to even towel off. The door hissed closed behind her.

And Zahara was left standing alone.

Back in the hangar, Aradia stood on the line – wet, barefoot, and about to fall over if it hadn’t been for her stubbornness to look alive. She looked unhinged, and it was immediately noticed by her crew. None of them chose to comment on it.

Captain Morosi strided in front, stopping suddenly and turning to face them. She glanced over Aradia’s stature and glared. Aradia held eye contact, not breaking it for a second. She didn’t care what Lina had to say about it, or what she was thinking. She did what she was set out to do.

“Officers, I am sure you are aware of what this briefing is about. The mission near the Ordo Cleft was a failure,” she started. Aradia let out a small gasp as she glanced to Zahara next to her. She was stone-faced, austere, and did not return her look. 

“There were faults and mistakes on each of your parts. Officer Hopkins,” she started, turning toward Mordecai. “You were late on comms relay and misidentified two heat signatures as mining equipment. They were not. It cost us valuable time, and could have cost us the mission.”

Mordecai tensed, but gave a sharp nod. He didn’t protest, it would only make things worse.

She turned towards Dimitri next. “Officer Vanopolous. You disobeyed direct instruction and veered thirty meters off-course to investigate a false ping. We don’t need heroes, we need cohesion.”

He was looking down at his feet, not strong enough to meet her burning gaze. Dimitri’s usual smirk was gone, replaced by shame and fear. He nodded as well. She moved on.

“Officer Alshafei,” Lina said, her tone colder now, more precise. “Your emotional volatility compromised your unit’s ability to regroup efficiently. That delay allowed the outpost to dispatch a distress signal before full sweep was completed.”

She didn’t react. It was like she was shut-off, bracing herself for impact. She didn’t want to look weak in front of Aradia.

“Officer Weathermay, you failed to flag the terrain instability. Your scans were incomplete and outdated, and when the east platform collapsed, we lost access to the data cache entirely. Weeks of intel are now gone.”

Roman’s jaw locked tight as he closed his eyes, taking a deep breath through his nose. Lina started to pace.

“Individually, your mistakes were costly. Together, they were catastrophic . The purpose self-destructed three minutes after dispatching backup coordinates. Our window for intel is gone, and we have a potential retaliatory strike to prepare – all because four of you could not function as a unit.”

No one moved. No one spoke. Captain Morosi’s words hung in the air like pollen. After a moment of silence, she turned toward Aradia. Her voice shifted as she spoke to her. It was softer, smoother. More forgiving.

“Now, Officer Cashmere on the other hand,” she started. Aradia didn’t react, at least not on the surface. But everyone saw the shift in the room.

“I was informed by Commander Ren himself that you had been hand-selected for a classified solo operation, hence the secrecy of your mission. He explained that he would be reaching out through my command vessel to dispatch your route, and I passed along your coordinates without delay, as instructed.”

Aradia’s lips pressed together. She wasn’t ready to tell her friends about Ren, or her involvement with him. Not yet, at least. She was waiting for the right moment, and Lina just took that away from her. Just like she took Octavian away from me, too . Zahara’s head snapped toward her, and she stared at Lina, seeing red. She wondered if she focused hard enough, she could telepathically set her on fire.

“While the rest of you were fumbling a basic sweep,” she continued. “Officer Cashmere was tasked with a high-stakes infiltration and target elimination across enemy lines. She completed her mission without fail, without backup, and without error. I see now that Officer Cashmere was the only competent pilot in your fleet, which by default makes her your commanding officer. Which brings me to my next point.”

Everyone froze. The room was silent, and the air was heavy. Thick. It felt almost like a dream sequence, like if she started running away, it would be in slow motion against her will. Lina fully turned toward Aradia now.

“Every commanding officer must be able to make choices of judgement for the betterment of the fleet as a whole. To identify weakness. To make hard decisions.”

There was a beat. Aradia held her breath. Everyone was turned now to look at her, and everyone was seething.

“Your teammates all failed significantly during this mission. It is up to you who stood out so they can be demoted until further notice. You have 48 hours to make your choice.”

Aradia didn’t move. Zahara’s lips parted slightly, but she held back any words. Roman’s eyes darkened, and Dimitri looked like he was going to throw up. Or cry. Or both. Mordecai stiffened, gripping the sides of his thighs so hard it was sure to leave bruised. Lina stepped closer to Aradia.

“This isn’t punishment, it’s responsibility. I’m sure you understand.”

She didn’t. This wasn’t her job. This wasn’t what she asked for.

But she had no other choice.

Chapter Text

The door to her quarters slid open with a soft hiss. Aradia didn’t even bother turning on the lights. She stepped inside, and let the door seal shut behind her. She just stood there for a second, letting the dark wrap around her.

Her bag thudded to the floor. Then her undershirt. She stripped down to nothing and stepped into the sonic shower just long enough for the grime to lift, not long enough for the ache to go away.

She wanted to cry. But she didn’t have the energy for that either. Everything inside her felt hollow. Overused. Scraped clean.

When she finally dropped onto her cot, she didn’t pull the blanket over her. Didn’t sync her datapad. Didn’t care that she was still damp, or that her hair was soaking the pillow. She just lay there, curled on her side, arms wrapped around herself like she was trying to keep something in.

She wasn’t thinking about her new task.

She wasn’t thinking about Ren.

She was thinking about the boy. The one who looked like Dimitri. The one who asked if she’d come to save them.

“ Run ,” she’d said. Like it was kindness.

Her stomach twisted. Not with guilt—she didn’t regret it. Not really. But she felt… marked. Like she’d been branded by what she’d done. Like her body knew something her mind hadn’t caught up with yet.

She closed her eyes and tried to breathe through the pounding in her skull. It had all happened so fast, but now… everything was still.

And she was so, so tired.

***

She didn’t know when she fell asleep. Only when she woke up, her jaw was clenched, and her fists were still closed around nothing. She didn’t know what time it was — she never took her datapad out of her bag to plug it in next to her. At this point, it was the least of her concerns.

She sat up on the edge of the cot, her head spinning. The fabric of her bed peeled off of her skin as she moved. It felt like the most intense hangover she’d ever had, even stronger than the night they went out to celebrate Mordecai’s birthday the past summer. Roman told her to slow down, but she didn’t listen. She knew herself better than anyone.

She still stood on that belief.

She stabilized herself on her feet, the floor beneath her feeling much harder than ever before. Her ankles nearly buckled beneath her, and each step felt as though she was carrying five tons on each leg. Eventually, she dragged herself to her coffee machine and started brewing a pot. 

She didn’t wait for it to cool off, and didn’t leave any room at the top to stir in her cream and sugar. Aradia drank it as is — scalding hot, bitter, and dimensionless, yet somehow in a strange way, she found it comforting.

She grabbed her datapad out of her bag and saw it still had some battery life left. Enough for her to see that it was 08:32. She had missed work completely. There was something strange, though. Something was missing .

She had zero messages. From anyone. Not her friends, not her Captain. It was almost as if she was still blacked out, isolated from anyone’s contact. Like she never returned at all.

Aradia felt agitated. Why didn’t anyone check up on me? I was just following orders, they can’t hate me for doing my job. If they were in my position, they would do the same thing.

She sighed and turned it off, returning to her sonic shower for a proper bathing. She scrubbed her scalp until it felt like her nails were going to break off, and scraped her body like she had something to hide. She stood under the running water, letting it cascade down every inch of her. She felt peace as it dripped off of her fingertips, then her mind started to wander.

Ren popped into her mind. His tall frame, his broad, strong shoulders. She imagined what he would look like under his helmet, and under his armor. She imagined him standing here in the shower with her. She imagined running her delicate hands over his chest, and breathing in his musk.

Her eyes shot open.

That was her plan in the beginning, after all. She did this for him, to please him, to satisfy him. And to get back at that bastard Octavian. And yet, she could already feel herself hollowing out, cracking under the pressure. Maybe not in front of others, but it was clear to her during this cleanse.

She had to talk to him.

Aradia shut off the water and stepped out, drying off. She got dressed in what she would’ve worn to work — a clean version, not the soiled garments from yesterday — and looked at herself in the mirror. She looked put together. Polished. Not like she spent all night trying not to cry. She glanced at her makeup bag and hesitated. Fuck it, she thought, grabbing the bag and applying a generous amount.

She grabbed her badge and left, heading straight towards the corporate offices. He was going to talk to her.

She was going to make sure of it.

Chapter Text

Aradia didn’t knock.

The doors to Commander Ren’s office opened with a whisper of air, and she stepped through like a storm. Ren was waiting. Helmet on. Cape off. Jacket half-unzipped.

He always knew when she’d come.

“You’re late,” he said, looking down at his black granite desk.

“Fuck you.”

He looked up at that.

She crossed the room in tight, furious strides, datapad clenched in her hand like a blade. When she reached the edge of his desk, she slammed it down hard enough to crack the screen.

“You want to talk about efficiency?” she snapped. “I completed your little ghost op, could’ve died , and you would’ve left me to rot .”

“You were never in danger.”

“You don’t know that.”

“I knew what you were capable of.”

“That’s not the same as giving a shit about me.”

Now he stood. Slowly. Casually. His jacket fell open just enough to show the armored undershirt beneath — matte black, molded to his chest.

“You came here to scream at me?” he asked, stepping around the desk. “Or to see if I’d stop you?”

“I came here,” she said, “because you left me with nothing. Not a message. Not a debrief. Not even a warning.”

“About what comes next?” he snapped coldly, but still calculated.

She stilled.

He stopped in front of her, only a foot of air between them. No weapons. No raised voices. Just heat. Just each other’s breath.

Ren tilted his head slightly. “You’re ready for more. I made sure of it.”

“And what is that, exactly?” she spat. “More death? More secrets? More games ?”

He reached past her, brushing his fingers against the edge of her datapad.

“Your next task,” he said quietly, “is personnel review.”

She blinked. “What?”

“There’s a restructuring happening in Nova Squadron. One pilot will be demoted for reassignment. I’ve left the choice to you.”

Her pulse slammed through her veins. “I’ve been made aware. That’s not my call to make.”

“It is now.”

She stared at him. Disgusted. Furious. Thrumming .

“You want me to pick one of my own?”

“I want you to stop pretending you haven’t already thought about it.”

He didn’t move, but the tension between them shifted — magnetic, intimate, dangerous. His fingers brushed hers when he handed her the new file. She didn’t flinch.

“You want to prove your loyalty?” he asked. “Show me who you’d cut.”

Her throat tightened. “And if I don’t?”

“You will.”

He said it so softly it made her stomach twist. Not a threat. A certainty. His hand grazed her wrist as he pulled back. She didn’t know if it was an accident, but she didn’t care.

“You’ve already made sacrifices,” he said. “One more shouldn’t hurt.”

She laughed once, sharp and humorless. “Is that what you tell yourself?”

“I don’t have to,” he murmured, stepping closer. His voice dropped lower. “I know what I am. Do you?”

Their bodies nearly touched now.

She could feel the heat of him through their uniforms, could see the slow rise of his chest, the exact place his gaze lingered on her lips before he met her eyes again.

Her hands trembled, but not from fear.

“You’re trying to break me,” she whispered.

“You asked to be broken.”

“You’re wrong. I didn’t ask for this. For any of this. You just assumed this is what I wanted because it’s what you would want,” she raised her voice, and it cracked slightly. Not now, Star. You can’t get emotional right now. Not here.

He turned, brushing past her like she was just another wall to lean on — but his voice followed her as she stared at the file in her hands.

“You asked for power. This is what power is. If it’s too much for you, it can be over. And you can go back to the life you had, pining for a Captain’s love that would never be reciprocated, and completing meaningless missions to observe spice runners. Your call.”

She didn’t move. She didn’t speak. Aradia looked down at the floor, defeated.

“Choose carefully, Officer Cashmere.”

A pause.

“Oh, and the replacement datapad is coming out of your credits.”

Chapter Text

The door hissed shut behind her.

She didn’t look back.

The file was still clutched in her hands — the paper-thin datapad digging into her palm like a blade. She couldn’t feel it. Her fingers were numb. Her feet carried her down the corridor without thinking.

Not to her quarters. Not to the hangar.

To the Command Center.

She stared at the console for a long, unblinking second. The keys swam in her vision. Her pulse throbbed behind her eyes. She was supposed to have 48 hours. But she couldn’t sit with it. Couldn’t let it fester. The longer she waited, the more it would rot.

So she did what she’d always done; she moved. Her fingers danced over the interface. Fast. Mechanical. Secure transmission. All fleet units. Immediate summons. Captain oversight authorized. Meeting in fifteen minutes.

She didn’t read it over.

She hit send.

They came. Of course they did.

Even after everything, even after the rumors, they still showed up.

Zahara. Mordecai. Dimitri. Roman.

All lined up in perfect symmetry, just like old times. Except they weren’t standing next to her anymore.

 They were waiting. Watching. No one asked why she called the meeting.  No one said a word.

Captain Morosi stood at the edge of the room like a statue — arms crossed, expression unreadable. She was letting Aradia lead. Watching how she’d do it.

Aradia stepped forward. She didn’t clear her throat. She didn’t rehearse a speech.

“I’ve made my decision,” she said.

The silence felt like static.

“I’ll spare you the flowery bullshit — how it was hard, how you’re all valuable, how I lost sleep over this,” She scanned the room. Dimitri’s jaw was tight. Zahara’s eyes were locked on a spot just beside her face. Mordecai wasn’t even pretending to mask his glare. “You know all that already.”

She took one final breath.

“I choose Officer Weathermay.”

It hit the room like a slap. Zahara sucked in a breath. Dimitri blinked. Mordecai’s mouth twitched — not surprise, but… something colder. Disappointment, maybe.

But Roman?

Roman smiled.

It wasn’t big. It wasn’t cruel. Just a slow, quiet upturn of the mouth — like a secret had just been confirmed.

She had never seen him smile before.

He stepped forward. Calm. No resistance. Roman unclipped his badge and handed it over with mechanical precision. He leaned in, just enough for her to hear.

“I didn’t think this would happen this early. But I suppose Kylo Ren likes initiative.”

And then he walked away.

She stood there, staring down at the badge in her hand like it had turned to ice. Her stomach twisted. Stay calm, Star. Don’t make it weird.

Her pulse was screaming. Her ears were ringing.

She hadn’t expected it to feel good, but she didn’t think it would feel like this . Like loss. Like she’d just gutted something vital and called it leadership.

She turned back to the squad.

Zahara was already walking away.

“Ace—” Aradia stepped forward. “Zahara, wait.”

No response.

“Can you just—can we talk?”

But Zahara didn’t even flinch. She kept walking, her jaw locked so tight it looked painful.

Dimitri moved next, slower. He didn’t look at her either.

“Dimi—please. It wasn’t personal. You know that, right?”

He stopped for a second.

Not long.

Just enough to glance back. She saw that his eyes were glassy, and part of her heart shattered like the ceiling at that outpost.

“You should’ve picked me,” he said.

Then he left.

Aradia’s heart pounded in her chest. She turned, desperate now.

“Mordecai?”

He was still there. Still watching.

“I need you to believe me,” she said, voice quieter now. “I didn’t do this for me. I didn’t—this wasn’t—”

“You didn’t have to explain, Star,” he said, tone flat. “but you did anyway. That’s the worst part.”

And then he walked out, too.

She didn’t realize she was still holding the badge until her fingers ached from gripping it too hard.

The room was empty. Her voice caught in her throat.

“Roman,” she whispered, like maybe he hadn’t gone far.

But he had.

And no one answered.

Chapter Text

Aradia marched right back to Ren’s office, seething with rage. She couldn’t remember the last time she was so angry she cried, yet here she was, wiping her tears away aggressively with her sleeve and barging right in.

“Ren, we need to—”

“Do you think you have the authority or the clearance to be in here?” He stood up.

“I don’t fucking care,” she yelled.

“Language, Officer.”

“No. If I want to cuss, I will. I have every right to. Fuck, fuck, fuckity fuck!”

Ren strided up to her quickly, his large gloved hand immediately making contact with her throat and squeezing. Too quick for her to respond.

“Just because I gave you a special mission, doesn’t make you special. You are still just an officer. You are replaceable. You are nothing ,” he seethed, his masked face uncomfortably close to her as she choked.

Aradia’s hands clawed at him, trying desperately to get him to release tension. Her chest heaved against his gloved hand. His face hovered close enough that the metallic tang of his breath filled her nose. She hated that her pulse wasn’t just from fear.

 She started seeing dark spots in her vision, and he let go. She dropped to the floor, gasping for air. She gasped in the air like it burned. His shadow loomed over her. She should’ve stayed down, but something inside her refused to. The fire behind her eyes burned with malice and pain as she looked up at him, mustering up enough energy to spit at his feet. Ren paused. A slow, almost dangerous chuckle rumbled behind his mask, like he was more intrigued than angry.

“You don’t mean that,” she managed to get out. He crouched down next to her, reaching out his hand to grab her chin. She flinched at first, but let him.

“ You’re trembling,” he murmured, tilting her chin up. “Not because of fear. You hate me so much you can’t breathe. Do you know how easy that is to read?” he said, tilting his head as he looked at her. He abruptly pulled his hand away and straightened out. “Stand up.”

She shook her head. “Fuck you.”

“I won’t ask you again.”

Aradia didn’t move.

He kicked her in the side, knocking her fully over. The impact was sudden and sharp, and she hit the floor with a strangled sound, pain blooming in her ribs.

“What did I tell you? If you’re going to have a dirty mouth, I’ll make it filthy . Stand. Up.”

There was a twinge in her as he said this, not in her head (although that was pounding, too), but between her legs. She smirked and slowly pulled herself to her feet, never breaking eye contact.

“It’s not fair, you know,” she said, stepping closer to him.

“What are you referring to?”

“I don’t even know what you look like. I mean, I get it, the helmet is super intimidating. That’s what you want, right? You want to be scary?” she asked. Her voice was light, breathy. She was trying something. Come on, bastard. Take the bait.

He stood there, silent. She pushed on. Aradia took another step towards him, close enough to touch. She rested her open palm right onto his chest. The breath between them shifted. For a split second, she swore she felt his chest rise faster under her palm, like he hadn’t expected her touch.

“ What’s under there, anyway? You’re not scared that I’d laugh, are you? Or is the mystery the only thing holding you together?” 

He chuckled, raising his hands to his helmet. On the outside, Aradia was calm and collected, but her mind was louder than ever. Her heart was beating so loudly she was afraid he could hear it. Before she could get too excited, though, he shoved her hand away like it burned him, like touching her had crossed some line even he couldn’t explain.

“You’re not ready for that. You never will be. Leave my office immediately. The next time you barge in here uninvited like this, you won’t be able to walk out. If you are, it won’t be good for you.”

She stumbled back, frustrated. She opened her mouth to argue, then—

“I won’t ask you again, Officer. Leave on your own, or I will have you escorted,” he said sharply, turning his back to her and walking back toward his desk.

Aradia stared at his back for a moment, then turned on her heel with a smile sharp enough to cut, the sting in her ribs nothing compared to the small victory she’d carved from him. She almost had him. He was weak .

As she went back towards her quarters, she walked past Mordecai’s room and stopped. Ren is just a man under all of that armor, and the best way to get a man’s attention is to take yours away. If Ren wants to pretend he didn’t care, fine. I’ll make sure he notices.

She knocked on Mordecai’s door.

Chapter Text

Mordecai answered the door shirtless, his dark hair damp and curling slightly at the ends. Her eyes met his as he stared at her expectantly. No smirk, no jokes, only a cool, sharp glare that made her heart race in an odd way.

“What do you want?” he asked simply. He leaned against the doorway and crossed his arms. She swallowed.

“I–”

“Because if you’re here to talk about Roman, or try to get me on your side about the choice, don’t even bother. You followed your orders; there’s no undoing it now.”

“I’m not here to talk about Roman,” she said quickly. Her tone was light and airy, but it sounded off, even to her own ears. She cringed a bit.

Mordecai raised an eyebrow, unmoving. “No? Then what?”

Aradia shrugged slightly. Any and all confidence or ideas she had when she knocked are out the door. She stood there awkwardly, like she wasn’t standing at his door because of the adrenaline still coursing through her blood from Commander Ren’s hand around her throat.

“I just wanted to talk.”

He didn’t move; his expression remained static. “Since when do you just talk , Star?”

There it was. The heat in his voice, the anger emphasized in each word. She smirked and crossed her arms to mirror him. “You always make it sound like I have ulterior motives. Come on, Phoenix, I’m not evil. I’m still just me. Maybe I just wanted to see you.”

He scoffed. “Right,” he muttered. “Because I’m so fun to be around when I’m pissed off.”

She tilted her head and pouted a bit. “You’re pissed? I couldn’t tell,” she said sarcastically. He rolled his eyes.

“You demoted Roman. Yeah, Aradia, I’m pissed.”

Her smirk slipped. She sighed and pushed past him into his room without waiting for permission. He didn’t move to stop her as she sat on the edge of his cot, her hands fidgeting in her lap. He stepped inside, the door hissing shut behind him.

“You’re mad at me because I made a call that I had every right to make?” she challenged. He walked further into his room towards her, but not too close.

“You made a call that gutted your own team. And for what?” he asked, finally sitting down next to her. “You didn’t even look us in the eye when you said his name, Star. You didn’t even ask what we thought beforehand. You act like you’re all alone when we’ve been here this whole time.”

Her throat tightened, but she forced herself to hold his gaze. “Do you really think I have no idea what I’m doing?”

“Yes.” The answer was quick and unflinching. “You’re trying so hard to hold everything together that you are ripping yourself to shreds to do it.”

His words hit harder than she expected. This was the first time her plan had been actualized, and to hear someone she cared about so deeply say it felt like a nightmare she couldn’t wake up from. She looked away, staring at the floor and clenching her fists so hard she was sure to leave nail indents in her palms.

“Aradia.” His voice softened, which is unlike him to ever do. “Hey, are you okay?”

She laughed, but not because anything was funny. It was brittle and broken as she held back tears to the best of her ability. “Do I look okay?”

He didn’t say anything at first; he just wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her against him. The warmth of his skin, still damp from his shower, seeped through her clothes. It felt safer than anything she had felt in a long time.

Aradia tried to speak, to make a joke or brush it off, but no words came out. Only a shaky breath.

“You don’t have to say anything, it’s okay,” Mordecai said to her, his voice low. The kind of low and gentle voice she’d never heard from him before. “Just breathe. I’m here.”

She gripped his forearm, her nails now digging into his skin instead of her own, and let herself lean into him fully. His chest rose and fell against her cheek steadily. For a moment, she hated how good he felt, and how badly she wished she could stay like this forever.

“I’m sorry, Mordecai,” she muttered, her voice finally cracking.

“I know.”

“I’m sorry. For everything. For Roman, for being like this right now. I don’t know.”

He tilted her chin up, forcing her to look at him. His hand felt soft and careful, and it matched his intense stare. Not intense like Ren, but something else. The juxtaposition of his knuckle under her chin compared to Ren’s harsh grip made her feel fragile. She couldn’t tell if she liked it or not. There was no threat in his eyes, but they radiated a certain kind of heat that made her hold her breath.

“You don’t have to apologize to me,” he said quietly. “Not for being you .”

Something twisted in her chest. Before she could stop herself, her hand slid to his sharp jaw, fingertips lightly grazing his stubble. He didn’t pull away. In fact, he leaned closer, his forehead almost brushing hers. She closed her eyes.

“This is a bad idea,” she whispered.

“Probably.”

He kissed her anyway. It was no longer gentle, it was hungry . All of the tension between them broke loose all at once. She kissed him back like she had been starved, her hands tangling in his hair, pulling him closer. He groaned against her lips, his hand sliding to the small of her back, anchoring her like she might float away. She broke apart for a second to straddle him, one knee on either side of his toned torso. Mordecai rocked his hips up into her, causing her to let out a small moan. She stopped, moving away slightly to catch her breath, shaking.

“Are you sure about this?” she asked. H e didn’t answer. He pulled her in again, harder this time. The sudden motion caused her to fall on top of him, making them both laugh. He flipped them over and hovered above her, staring once again.

As they lay there catching their breaths, his hands slowly moved up her forearms, locking his fingers with hers. She smiled, and he leaned down slowly, kissing her again. More passionate, more focused. A tear ran down her cheek as her emotions soared. Never pulling away from her, he unlocked their hands and trailed them down to her jacket, meticulously unzipping it. They stopped and sat up so she could take it fully off, then followed it with her shirt.

She suddenly felt very exposed and wrapped her arms around herself, looking away.

“Hey, we don’t have to do this if you’re not comfortable, Star. It’s okay. Whatever you want to do,” he said softly, once again moving her chin to look at him. As she looked deeper into his eyes, she melted. How have I never noticed how beautiful you are? She put her arms down and nodded, smiling slightly.

“I want to.”

***

The room was quiet except for the sound of their breathing, still uneven, slowly finding a rhythm again. The sheets were a mess, and honestly, so were they. Her hair was as tangled as her thoughts as she turned to look at him, watching him in the low light. Mordecai lay on his back, one arm draped over his forehead, chest rising and falling with every careful breath. His eyes were closed, but somehow, it made her feel worse.

She’d come here to distract herself. To get Kylo Ren out of her head. To make him jealous . She knew he was watching her, and she knew she probably just fucked up. So why didn’t it feel like it?

Her fingertips brushed the faint scar along his shoulder; she hadn’t even noticed it until now. Mordecai flinched slightly at the touch but didn’t pull away.

“Hey,” he said, his voice hoarse and groggy. She giggled. “You okay?”

Aradia hesitated. “Yeah. I just…” she trailed off. What was she supposed to say?

He opened his eyes and turned his head to look at her, a faint smile tugging at his lips. “You think too much, Star.”

“I don’t think enough ,” she muttered.

Mordecai shifted, rolling onto his side fully to face her. He looked at her in a way she wasn’t used to. He wasn’t sizing her up, or testing her, or waiting for her to break. Just seeing her. It was disarming. “Whatever’s going on in that little head of yours,” he said softly, poking her forehead with his finger, “you don’t have to carry all of it alone.”

She nodded, trying not to let the floodgates break loose. Despite her best efforts, however, she felt her eyes start to get hot. God, please, not now.

“I don’t even know what I’m doing anymore,” she said, her voice wavering.

“Yeah,” he shrugged, “Me neither. Does anyone? But…” He moved his finger off her forehead and brushed a thumb over her jaw. “You don’t have to know. Not tonight at least.”

He pulled her close again, pressing his forehead to hers. There was no more lust. Something deeper remained, something she didn’t want to name.

Shit , she thought as she closed her eyes, taking a deep breath. She allowed herself to rest against him.

This wasn’t the plan.

Chapter Text

The hangar felt wrong without Roman.

Not that anyone said anything. No one dared to, but his empty place in the lineup was impossible to ignore. It left an icy gap between Zahara and Dimitri, as if someone had cut out his existence with a dull blade.

Aradia adjusted her gloves, her throat tight. She wasn’t looking at anyone, least of all Mordecai. He hadn’t so much as glanced in her direction since she arrived. She hissed to herself, the feeling of regret coating her soul and clouding her mind. She snuck a peek at him and noticed his expression was sharp enough to cut glass, his helmet tucked under one arm with his shoulders squared. 

Zahara shifted uneasily. She was the one who usually smoothed the rough edges, but not even she seemed willing to bridge the silence that was deafening the fleet’s senses. Aradia really couldn’t blame her for not speaking up. Where would she even start?

“Officers,” Captain Morosi’s voice cracked like a whip as she strode into the hangar. The sound made Aradia’s spine straighten despite all of her muscles wanting to coil. “I expect this next mission to be seamless. As you have witnessed, failure and incompetence will no longer be tolerated. Understood?”

“Yes, Captain,” they responded in unison like they used to do for Octavian, back when everything was normal. Before Aradia decided to alter reality.

Aradia felt Mordecai’s eyes flicker toward her before he looked straight ahead again. She couldn’t read his tone, and the unknown made her pulse spike. Not because of what had happened the previous night (that was its own problem), but because of what hadn’t been said since. She ended up sleeping in his quarters that night, only to wake before him and let herself out to get ready for the day. The air between them was dense, like static right before a storm. The quick glance forced her to remember the weight of his hand on her jaw, the heat of his breath on her neck as he whispered into her ear. Now, nothing. Not a word, not even a connected gaze.

“You will find mission instructions on your datapad. Dismissed.”

They moved as one unit, dispersing to their respective ships. Aradia sank down into the seat of Carinae, sighing heavily as she lowered her helmet onto her head, accessing comms. Her heart beat out of sync as she closed her eyes to steady it. Every order from Captain Lina Morosi grated against her instincts. Something always felt off with her, but Aradia couldn’t put her finger on exactly what. She has dealt with her fair share of authoritarian management, so that’s not what was throwing her off. She shook her head and listened for her fleet, sinking deep into the brush of static coming through that reminded her of Mordecai’s silence towards her in the hangar.

She spoke first. “Star signing on.”

A pause. Then, “Ace signing on.”

“Phoenix on air.”

Another pause. “Nosebleed present.”

Aradia chuckled to herself. The nickname that they gave Dimitri so long ago, back when everything felt lightweight. Back when she felt as though she had the authority to make jokes, when she was allowed to have fun. The air was thick, and the engine of Carinae rattled slowly beneath her, aching for a gear switch. Her fleet was waiting for her to announce it was time to go, but her count was off. Where’s Valentine? The realization stunted her breathing even more, and a sharp pain tore through her chest. She clenched her teeth and swallowed the daggers.

“Lift off.”

The coordinates on Aradia’s datapad lead them to a dark patch in the void instead of a planet. She double, triple, quadruple checked. She was sure she was in the right spot. But why?

“Hey, Star?” she heard through her comms.

“What’s up?”

“Yeah, so, where the fuck are we?” Dimitri asked. She sighed. 

“I don’t know, Nosebleed. You guys have the same coordinates I do. Did any of you get a mission plan?” she asked. In return, she received a flurry of negatives.

“I’m shocked that you don’t have them, being the team leader and all,” Zahara spat. Great, she’s still mad at me.

“First of all, Ace, there is no assigned party leader. Second of all, and more importantly–”

An explosion. Aradia’s words were halted abruptly by a blast, Carinae flying out of line, the vertical stabilizer in flames. She gripped the wheel and got it to stop spinning, ignoring the rush of profanities and panic coming from her fleet. She had no time to revel in her shock. Looking outward, she watched as her fleet ignited their blasters, dodging skillfully around the incoming blows.

“We’re under attack!”

“This is a set-up!”

“Who are these guys?”

Aradia’s eyes filled with fire, her teeth ground to nubs. She tightened her grip on the wheel.

“Alright, Carinae. It’s you and me,” she said as she pushed forward, speeding past her fleet and directly towards the enemy.

“Star! Bitch, what the fuck?” she heard Dimtri.

She held down the button that ignited her blasters, rapidly firing them towards the enemy ships. They were unmarked and defenseless, and she shot a few of them out of commission.

“Don’t stop!” she commanded her fleet.

“You’re in the way! What if we hit you?” Zahara asked.

“Do. Not. Stop.”

With this, she saw blasts all around her, both in her direction and outward. Aradia dodged each blast, masterfully zipping around the enemy ships and dipping under her team’s attacks. Suddenly, Carinae jolted. The fire from her blast had spread toward her engine, and she lost control.

Chapter Text

When Aradia was young, she would oftentimes sit by the front door, waiting for her father to return home. Her mother, Lianna, would insist she move away from the entrance, telling her that her father wouldn’t be home for a few more hours. Aradia would sometimes ignore her, but ultimately, she would sigh and stand up, instead going to assist Lianna with housework.

“Don’t you ever get bored?” Aradia had asked her. Lianna hummed as she placed the garment she was folding on top of the pile.

“Bored? Of what?” she asked, avoiding eye contact as she grabbed another linen to fold.

“Of this. Of everything. You never leave the house. Don’t you want more? To see what the galaxy has to offer?” insisted Aradia, grabbing a linen to help fold. Lianna chuckled.

“One day, you’ll understand that there’s nothing out there in the galaxy that you don’t already have,” she said.

Baffled, Aradia threw the linen back into the basket. “What do you mean by that?” she asked. No response. “Mom, what do you mean?”

Her own question echoed in her head as the world became blurry around her. Then, nothing. Just darkness.

Lianna was gone.

Her house was gone.

Everything was just gone, as she floated in black nothingness. Silence surrounded her, wrapping around her throat. Aradia tried to scream, but she was met with more silence. Thicker. Heavier. It pushed on her stomach, causing her to curl up into a ball. She closed her eyes and saw stars. Little stars, twinkling all around her. So beautiful, so gentle. They cascaded all around her, engulfing her in sudden light as the sound of Carinae’s monitor started beeping in her ears. The sound was loud, erratic, and unsteady. Her eyes shot open once more to reveal she was still in darkness. The sound became closer.

I went ahead of them. I had to, Aradia thought to herself. Zahara said it herself; she was the team leader. It was the leader thing to do. It’s not like any of them would have volunteered their lives as she did. She was the best pilot on the fleet. It was a job made for her.

I wonder if Morosi saw. I wonder if Ren saw. Captain Morosi said right before they left that failure was not an option. There was no other way. If they had surrendered to the enemy, they would have come back as losers, and probably jobless. She did it for the fleet.

Did we even win? She sat with this thought for a while. Ice crystals started to form around her heart, a coldness she had never experienced before. Usually, she was fire, a light emanating from inside of her hot enough to burn through her insecurities and melt her empathy. But the fire was gone, the smoke rising to the surface as she exhaled to let it all out. She was freezing, the incessant beeping sound growing louder and louder. She felt a hand on her arm.

Mom? She thought, but she couldn’t speak. The abundance of smoke filled her lungs as she choked on the irony. Then, she was met with a light brighter than any she had ever seen before.

“Star!” she heard, then felt the weight of someone on top of her as they tried to hug her. “Nurse! Nurse, she’s awake!”

Nurse? She opened her eyes (for real this time) and looked around. Aradia was lying in a bed that wasn’t hers, in a paper gown that wasn’t hers, in a sterile-white room that also wasn’t hers. As her eyes adjusted, she heard the beeping from her void, only it wasn’t Carinae at all; it was a heart monitor. Her eyes followed the cords attached to the monitor to find them stuck to her chest. She wanted to reach up and rip them off her, but she found that her arms felt too weak to move. A nurse came rushing in from around a corner, followed by Dimitri.

“Can you tell me your name?” the nurse asked her, holding a clipboard. She seemed uninterested. Dimitri, on the other hand, could not have been more expressive. His eyes were filled with tears as he held onto Aradia’s hand, squeezing it so hard it made her wince a bit.

Aradia parted her dry, cracked lips as she tried to speak, clearing the remaining smoke from her throat as she coughed out: “Aradia Cashmere.”