A/N: Solo Spoilers! This is one way that I see the SOLO endgame playing out. It is brief and short on larger details, but I think the message is clear. Enjoy!
Pulling the Trigger
My blaster, the one Beckett gave me, quivers in my outstretched hand.
I never thought it would come to this. I could not conceive that even three years of separation, three years in the hells for each of us could sever our connection so fully. Hadn't we loved in the pit of despair. Hadn't we stolen and beaten our way to the possibility of freedom? Had we not promised ourselves to each other against every challenge?
I can feel the ooze of sweat in my palm and on my brow.
What could she have done that she thinks I would not forgive. Drayden hammered...HAMMERED that she had done things. What had she done? Had killed men, even savagely? Had she become a flesh slave to Voss, but not just to him, but to whom ever he directed her? Was it both? Was it more? Had she come to like it more than she hated it? He could not believe it. But he could still forgive.
My knees want to give way, to pull me to the floor.
What happened when she was caught by the Imperials? Had Proxima's agents stepped forward to claim her? If that were true then, he knew what she had suffered. The Lady's scourge deadly, a whipping that left her victim on the verge of death. Her utter cruelty lay in the medical attention supplied to revive the pour soul. And that was just it. The beating was meant to eradicate the soul, to create a machine. But even machine's break down or outlive their usefulness. Or, in certain cases, machines become valuable enough to sell.
It is my will alone that keeps me on my feet. If I falter, I am a dead man.
She had been sold. Out of one festering hole into another, albeit much more finely furnished. But the cost of her new station...The loss of her freedom, such as it was. The loss of her will, to live as more than a puppet on a string. The loss of the ability to love and, most tragically, to be loved. I had not seen that she was dead when met, again, on Voss' yacht. I was too excited and she faked it so well. So well. Even with everything I had been through, I was still a lovesick Nexu pup in her presence. So much has happened since then.
A loud crash pulls her attention to the door and her blaster with it. My opening is here. But, I freeze. There is rustling outside the door. My blaster is still pointed at her, buts hers is pointed at the sound. This time a thunderous collision with the door almost breaks it in. She fires. I do not. She is spooked. The machine is cornered. The door bursts open and Lando stands tall holding an E-15 blaster rifle.
She fires at Lando.
I fire on her.
Lando is hit, but not mortally.
Qi'ra staggers back a step and crumples into the corner apex of the small office. The same smoking hole rises from her chest as the one I had put into Beckett. I rush to her as I did for Beckett. I hate tears. They are a fools response. I had been a fool. I am a fool. But never again. Wetness fills my eyes despite my will.
She is now propped in the corner, her legs splayed in front of her and her arms lifeless at her sides. Her beautiful eyes lock on me and for a moment, I think she is alive again.
"He...won't stop," she croaks, blood masking her lips. "You can't...run...forever."
Idiot! She died in Proxima's lair!
"Let him come," I say, my false bravado fooling no one.
Her eyelids flutter and close for the final time.
I fall to my knees. Lando is there, a firm hand on my shoulder.
"Qi'ra, I...love you."
I never thought it would come to this. That she would force my hand. That she would choose power, wealth, and complete and utter misery over me. That she would put me, the man who loves her, has never stopped loving her, in a position to put her down. Maybe that was her kriffed up intent all along. She wanted it to be me. You got your wish, Sister. Perhaps, I sound selfish. Good. Because that is how it will be from now on. I can't afford the luxury of caring for anyone but myself. Love is a liability. It is a mistake I will never make again.