𝙏𝙃𝙀 𝘿𝙀𝙑𝙄𝙇'𝙎 𝘼𝘿𝙑𝙊𝘾𝘼𝙏𝙀 • 𝙙𝙖𝙧𝙩𝙝 𝙫𝙖𝙙𝙚𝙧

THREE

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CHAPTER THREE:

The Discarded Starbirds

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WE WEREN'T SPEAKING.

Whenever Noa and I had an argument, we'd typically ignore each other until one of us forgot we had argued, and things would go back to normal. But after the events on Hoth, I wasn't sure why it was that we weren't speaking.

There was no argument, and neither of us had hurt the other, but there was a silence too loud to ignore over the days that followed. This time, it wasn't anger that had drifted us apart. The lack of conversation and avoidance of eye contact was the consequence of residual shock. What happened on Hoth wasn't what we had planned for, and it wasn't what we were prepared for.

"They could be here any day."

That was the first sentence Noa had spoken to me after a week of nothing. His words weren't anything I didn't already know, but I couldn't bring myself to admit the inevitable.

"What makes you so sure of that?" I asked him while busying myself with taking inventory. There was no reason for me to update our numbers; the only thing that had changed was the one less X-A1 Destroyer which I had given to the Stormtrooper, but the mundane task helped me ground myself in normalcy during a time of uncertainty.

"Pretending not to know the truth doesn't make it any less true," He said curtly, leaning his hand on the wall. "What in the name of the stars do we do when an Imperial shows up on our doorstep?"

I closed the box of ticker-gun bullets and came out of the warehouse, hugging the tablet to my chest as though it was keeping me from drowning. "Are you angry at me, Noa?"

"I don't know what I am, Kyda," He replied, the lines on his forehead more pronounced than usual. "All I know is that you gave a Stormtrooper one of our weapons, and asked him to come back for more."

"We needed a big client," I said with a frown. "And if I recall correctly, it was your idea to get involved in the war."

"Yes, to sell to Rebels," Noa emphasized with his hands on his hips.

"You said it yourself: we aren't a wholesome business. There is no wholly good or wholly bad side. How can you be angry with me?" I asked him incredulously, frustrated that he seemed to have forgotten his own stance.

"I'm not angry," He whispered, pinching the bridge of his nose.

I sighed before taking his hand and leading him away from the cold warehouse and through to the office where I sat him down at his desk. Leaning back on the desk behind me, I rested my hands on his shoulders before speaking. "You're scared. I understand, because I am too. But we need to see this as an opportunity. If anything, working for the Imps gives us immunity. Why would they kill the best weapons dealers they've ever hired?"

"They haven't hired us yet," He grumbled, his lips in a slight frown.

"Exactly," I quipped with a shrug, taking my hands off of his shoulders. "They might not even come."

"They're coming," He stated gravely with an unamused look on his face. "That Stormtrooper single-handedly destroyed the Rebel base with the A1. Well, with some help from you.

I let out a groan, rubbing my face. "I don't know what came over me. I just wanted him to trust me."

"Whatever. That Rebel base was doomed the second they ignored that Tiffi woman's warning," He said, clearly attempting to alleviate my guilt. I nodded at his words, but couldn't bring myself to shake off the remorse just yet.