Please note that this is a sequel to my story "Never the Same." If it's been a while, please read the epilogue of that story to get up to speed. This story is definitely more AU than most my fanfics, so the writing is a bit outside my comfort zone. I hope you enjoy, and please review! -Scarlet
S-2_C-1: The Runabout
The break from hyperspace, though unplanned and immensely dangerous, almost felt like a relief. The stars danced peacefully in the vastness of space rather than blur by in a chaotic kaleidoscope. I immersed myself in the digital novel on my datapad, picked up from a merchant on the last spaceport we had visited. Though he didn't have the hyperdrive repair piece we had been searching for, he did have a tasteful collection of historical space adventures. I glanced at the blinking autopilot light every few minutes.
The vessel that Vegas had haggled for on Takodana was more or less a runabout vessel. In other words, a space junker. It was capable of hyperspace travel and had the capacity for a crew of four. Vegas suspected that the runabout had been modified for the hyperdrive, so it wasn't entirely compatible with the vessel's computer systems. In other words, we had been scammed.
A glint in the near distance caught my eye, causing me to lower my datapad. The light of a nearby star flashed off a rotating bit of space debris directly ahead. My eyes narrowed as I tried to make out the insignia on the side of the ruined hull of a spaceship—a cargo ship perhaps? Suddenly, I realized we were getting much too close much too fast.
Grabbing the control sticks on instinct, I pulled up hard and fast. The runabout lurched upwards, triggering all sorts of alarm signals and flashing lights. "Vegas!" I shouted, hoping to wake him. I can't fly this thing!
Right on cue, Vegas pitched himself into the co-pilot seat, hair disheveled and eyes half-crusted with sleep. "What the hell!" he exclaimed, using the controls to even us out. He maneuvered around several more pieces of debris as I caught my breath, heart beating out of control.
"It just came out of nowhere!" I said, dazed. We were silent as Vegas finished maneuvering the debris field, and I sensed his nerves. Lack of sleep, stress, and constant running had been the theme of the last four weeks of our lives. I had never imagined that escaping the First Order would be so … slow.
"Was that First Order?" I asked once we were clear, stealing a glance at Vegas. He was resetting the autopilot with his usual tired mask in place.
"No—that design is Resistance. Couldn't make out the symbol though."
Another Resistance graveyard, I thought. To say that the First Order had stepped up their assault on the Resistance after the destruction of Starkiller was an understatement. The bits of intergalactic news we picked up from trading posts and merchant planets spelled doom for the Resistance—and soon. It was even rumored that one of the Resistance heroes credited for Starkiller, Rey, was dead. Even General Organa's fleet hadn't transmitted in weeks.
Vegas was biting his lip in thought. "I don't like the idea of Yavin now."
I clenched my jaw to keep it from dropping. "We're just two days away," I said in a skeptical tone. "And they will definitely have that part."
He shook his head, making eye contact for the first time. "They could be close. And since we're not in hyperspace, they could track us without us even knowing."
This wasn't the first time that we had changed course based on Vegas' worries. I felt my temper building. "They're going to be 'close' no matter where we go in the galaxy, Vegas."
"Not in the Cadavine Sector—no bases there," he argued.
I nodded with an incredulous smile. "Which is why we need our hyperdrive fixed."
His tired eyes sparked with annoyance. "We can't fix it from a First Order brig, now can we?" he snapped.
He sounds like a coward. I clenched my hands into fists to keep from voicing my thoughts. My eyes tracked back to the main viewport. "No, we can't," I ground out.
"I don't want to argue with you, Luce. We just can't take risks right now. We've come so far—"
"I know," I interrupted like a child. "I'm just tired, John. Really tired."
I felt his eyes on me like he was trying to read my mind, to see if I was hiding something. His next question had become familiar to me. "Do you wanna talk about it?"
"No," I said, rising from my seat. "Did you get enough sleep?" I asked, unfeeling and expressionless.
"Yeah," he sighed. "Go get some rest."
With a scowl on my face, I vanished into the crew cabin, a tiny, dark room with four bunks and a refresher. The small space offered barely any relief from the suffocating runabout. I sat on the edge of my bunk and planted my face in my hands, elbows on knees. My mood had gone from indifference to devastation in the blink of an eye. This isn't me. I massaged my fingers into my brow to smooth out the wrinkles.
Four weeks on the runabout had left me a ruined mess. I hated to admit it, but I missed the purpose and dignity that the First Order had given me. My time there had transformed me from a lost young woman searching for her place in the galaxy to a confident leader filled with passion and resolve. If it hadn't been for Vegas' idea of escape, I would still be there. If it hadn't been for the First Order's turn from military conquest to senseless murder, I would still be there. If it hadn't been for Kylo's abuse, I would still be there.
I shivered at the memories of my final days with Kylo Ren. Dark, irrational, and controlling—unrecognizable compared to the man that I fell in love with. Before those times on the Finalizer, I thought that he had felt the same way that I did. However, when I look back on everything, I doubt he ever loved me.
The thoughts drew my attention to the gnawing cramps in my abdomen. Sitting up, I pressed a hand there and let out a breath that I hadn't realized I was holding. I jumped when I heard a soft knock on the cabin door.
"Luce?" I chose not to respond, and the door cracked to reveal a sliver of Vegas' silhouette. "We'll go to Yavin," he muttered, resigned.
"Thank you," I said, eyes downcast.
After he shut the door, I laid in my bunk with the thin sheet tucked under my chin. The cabin felt cramped without a viewport—I hated it. The sooner we got to Tatooine, the farther my problems would be. My hand crept unconsciously back to my abdomen. I squeezed my eyes shut and once again pictured the warm, red sands of my future home in the stars.