0 ABY

"You know, I could swear I've seen this situation before, in a holofilm."

"This set-up does seem familiar, yes."

They sat on opposite ends of the rock, facing away from each other. The rock was the only spit of land in eyesight, a vast ocean completely surrounded them. Somewhere in the depths were their ships, they had shot each other down. On one end of the boulder sat a TIE fighter pilot, clad in the standard black flight suit. His helmet was atypical however, it appeared to be modelled after the helmets worn by stealth fighter pilots worn during the Clone Wars. On the other, a young woman wearing orange gear. Embossed on her helmet was the symbol of the Rebel Alliance, the firebird.

The Rebel turned to the TIE pilot "It's Chessa, by the way."

The Imperial didn't immediately reply, and when he did, he did not face her "D, dash three-two-seven, dash one."

Chessa snorted "Cute, but you know that's not what I meant."

Another pause "Uster."

"There, now was that so hard?"

That time, Uster didn't answer.

"You know, you can take your helmet off. I don't know if you've noticed, but I'm breathing fine, not choking on poisonous gasses or anything." She took several deep breaths to demonstrate "See? Totally fine."

"Can't take it off."

"Yeah? Why's that?"

"Because it's not just a flight suit, it's also a life-support suit." Uster replied "I was shot down on my first deployment."

Chessa winced "Ah, I'm sorry. One of ours?"

Uster shook his head "Friendly fire. Idiot wingman wasn't watching where he was shooting."

"I can see the Empire picks only its best to fly." Chessa said drily.

"At least we don't use children as pilots," Uster bit back.

"I'm eighteen, that's an adult on most worlds."

"Barely."

"Well, how old were you when you started flying?" Chessa asked.

Again, silence, although Chessa could practically feel the irritation radiating from Uster. She decided to try something else.

"So, not that I don't appreciate it or anything, but why didn't you shoot me when you landed?"

Uster shrugged "Seemed unsporting to shoot a downed pilot. Like shooting a sleeping enemy. I kill you, it's going to be from the cockpit."

"You lost your blaster when you crashed, didn't you?" She asked, smirking.

To that, Uster said nothing. Alright, probably not helping his mood, Chessa thought.

After a long pause, she said "For what it's worth, you're the best pilot I've ever seen."

"You have some skill, but your performance is very slipshod. You need more training."

Chessa sighed and shrugged "Fine, I'll take that."

"Don't mistake criticism for insult. It's how we improve."

"Sorry. I guess I could stand to put some more hours in the flight-sim when we get out of this."

"You ever start fighting for the right side, I'd be happy to train you."

Chessa laughed "Funny, I was going to say the same to you."

After that, they lapsed back into silence. It was noticeably less tense than before.