The Last of A Thousand Chances
In those final moments, he found himself thinking of all the chances he had been given. From the moment he spied her across that dark and humming room, spiting everyone regardless of rank with all the will that indifference could afford. From that first moment, to the very last, he had tried his best to ignore it.
Life had taught him not to get attached.
So chance after chance came and he watched them all go by. And it was easy at first.
He had a chance in the marketplace on arid Jedha, when they kept their heads down, when they were just two shadows in the alley. He thought he would lose her when she broke from hiding and ran through fire and blasts to the wailing child that stood in the street. She showed him her heart that day.
He had the chance when they escaped the doomed planet, when she saw her beloved guardian swallowed by fire and dust and the fury of an unspeakable weapon. He had waited for the tears to trace rivers through the dirt on her face, but those bright and riveting eyes had remained dry as the crumbling planet they left behind. She showed him her strength that day.
He had the chance in the rain, when he dragged her away from the corpse of her father, when for all he knew, her tears mingled hidden in the falling rain. That day when he missed all his chances to carry out his orders. When she found him out, when she accosted him for the things he had kept secret, when all he could do was fight her fire with his own. She showed him her fury that day.
He had the chance in the hanger, when he had gathered her a rebel army, when the gratitude was plain on her face. She showed him a chink in her armor that day.
He had the chance in the stolen ship, when they had agreed to seize every chance given to them. When they donned their disguises and stepped into the maw of the beast, knowing very well they might not step back out. She showed him her courage that day.
He had the chance in the white room, in the heart of evil, when they listened to their sensible and cynical droid die on the other side of the door and understood that the rest of their friends would have the same end. When they saw there was only one way to go. When they climbed and he fell, heard her scream his name before he hit the bottom. But she kept climbing. She showed him her loyalty to the cause that day. She took all of her chances and he took none. And as he lay there, he thought that was the end of it.
But fate afforded him one last chance. He had it when he followed her to the top, when he watched her give hope to the Rebellion and walk away from taking a life. That day she showed him something that surprised him most of all. She showed him a deep and unshakable peace that not even the end of their world could move.
In those final moments, he was done ignoring, and he found himself regretting those missed chances. He could only think of all the things he had left unsaid.
But such things were not meant for them.
And it was not in the things they had missed that he found peace during those final moments, but rather in the things unexpected and unasked. The looks exchanged in the lift as it soared back down the tower. The staggered journey to the shore, a final effort to be away from the carnage of war. The knowing silence shared as the wall of water and fire and stone on the horizon hurtled ever closer. It was dazzlingly bright, like a sun wandered too close. Like an old and dying star.
Peace was in the embrace, as they held each other and welcomed the blinding death that crept silently to the edge of the sand.
He realized suddenly that he never needed to take those chances. In those final moments, they were all understood. And they were put away.
What better chance was this, to breathe his last in her arms and she in his. Their future and past together in the present, in that final and most glorious moment
enfolded in brilliant stardust.
