𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇'𝙎 𝘼𝘿𝙑𝙊𝘾𝘼𝙏𝙀 • 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙫𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

TWO

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CHAPTER TWO:

The Eye of the Storm

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FEAR.

It was a funny little thing.

It could drive a person insane, but also kept them alive.

Perhaps, then, I should have listened to my own fear as Noa and I made our way to Hoth. After all, the only reason I had any fear at all was because I knew we very well could have been flying to our death.

Noa stood behind me, holding a pair of blunt scissors to my hair. I had developed an annoyance towards my long tresses, and wanted to fill the time with something. "Wouldn't Sev do a better job than me?" He asked, reluctance in his voice as he referred to the engineering droid I had lived with my whole life. 

I looked over at 7-OP, who was currently staring out the window, and shook my head. "He isn't in good shape. I don't trust him not to slit my neck."

"And you think I'm any safer?" Noa asked, before hesistantly lifting up a lock of my hair. "Here goes."

With each snip, I imagined he was cutting away at the voice in my head, telling me that I'd regret agreeing to his plan. I let my fear and nerves fall to the ground with my dead hair, taking a few deep breaths as I readied myself.

"What do we do if they're hostile?" I asked Noa after a few minutes.

"Pretend to be on their side?" He offered with a shrug.

His words confused me, making me look over at him with a frown. "Aren't we?"

"Are we?" Noa asked, similarly confused.

"I was under the impression that the Rebels were the good guys," I told him, looking out to the snowy landscape.

He shrugged, "People tear themselves apart trying to be one or the other, as though they have to choose. It may be my galaxy, but it sure as all feke ain't my war. I have no stakes in either side; why should I care who wins?"

"But isn't there a clear hero and villain here?" I questioned him. "Have you not seen the way people cower in fear at the mere mention of Darth-"

"Things aren't always as black and white as they may seem," Noa began, putting the scissors down. "Both sides have their heroes and their villains. Both have their good and bad qualities. Our job is to equip them with the tools they need to have it out and see who the victors are."

"And the people whose lives our weapons will end?" I asked with a raised eyebrow.

As always, he remained optimistic, flashing me a smile. "They'll die as martyrs."
  

•

  
The Rebel base was a long trek away from where we landed. Wanting not to draw any attention to ourselves, we decided that seeing two people calmly walking up to the door would be less alarming than a ship landing two metres from it.

"Not very impressive," Noa commented as we emerged over a snowy hill and saw the base in all its glory. It was smaller than I expected- but then again, it wasn't exactly the Rebel headquarters.

"We just need to make an impression and hope they tell the rest about us," I said, scouring the perimeter.

Noa began walking, and I stumbled over the snow while trying to keep up. Before we were even in earshot of the building, the door slammed open and there stood a tall man holding a small blaster. "Who are you?" He asked with a booming voice, his eyes wide and untrusting. He had brown hair down to his ears, and it was matted as though he had just ran a mile. He was breathing heavily, confirming that he had just been engaged in an strenuous activity.