…meanwhile at the Resistance Base…

"She's been in there for a really long time. I think we should go in to check on her," I heard Freya's voice from the other side of the door. And knowing that tone I was suddenly regretting I didn't take the time to lock myself in here – because it was only a matter of seconds before she came barging in.

So I guess I better make this quick.

I turned my attention back to Hux and smiled at his perpetual death glare. I was not impressed. "I hate you," I said.

"I know."

He broke the connection just as Freya walked in. "Tell grandma she was right," I said looking at her over my shoulder. "Oh what? You look ready to tell me you're in so much trouble young lady. Which would be hilarious, considering I'm six years older than you."

"What… what just… What did you do?"

"I'm not entirely sure. But it was therapeutic," I smiled. I felt very calm which was… new. I intended to enjoy it while it lasted. Which wasn't going to be long, obviously.

"Did you just let the First Order know where we are just so you can yell at some psychopath…?"

"Alright, first of all - he's not just some psychopath," I said, still in that calm voice I had trouble identifying as my own. "And no, of course I didn't let the First Order know where we are. Trust me a little. I made sure to confuse the hell out of their tracking algorithms. And when that happens parts overheat. Some become very flammable. Pretty sure people are starting to ask if anyone else can smell smoke right about now. That's what I did. Just by making one call. Would you stop glaring at me? I'm being awesome here. Where's your happy face?"

"Hiding behind my incredulous face."

I got out of the chair, walked up to her and gave her a short hug that only made her what's-happening-right-now expression more confused. It did me a world of good to see her like that. For years she's been the most if-we-weren't-related-I-would-have-killed-you-long-ago person in our whole clan and the fact that I still had the capacity to surprise her made my already wonderful mood better.

"Let's go outside. I think I want to look at the stars for a while."

"Aren't you looking… happy," said grandma as she saw me walk out with confused Freya in tow.

"Happy," I repeated. "Oh yeah. That's the what you call this."

They only exchanged disbelieving looks at the new, unnaturally calm me and followed me outside. I slowed down, giving them a chance to catch up. The stars looked magical tonight - I wanted to share them with someone. I wanted to know they brought joy to someone simply because I knew that someone, somewhere was probably glaring at the whole galaxy, completely missing the point.

"Isn't it beautiful?" I asked.

"The most beautiful thing I've seen in a long while," agreed grandma, putting a hand on my shoulder. I wasn't entirely sure she meant the sky as I smiled at her familiar, wrinkled face.

"Thanks, gran. You were right. I really needed this."

We sat down into the grass and just looked up for a long, peaceful moment. One I knew wasn't going to last forever, judging by the sideways glances Freya was giving me.

"So what was it really like?" asked Freya after waiting what she considered appropriate length of time. "Working for the First Order?"

"What…?" I turned to her, confused.

"You never really told me. Or anyone else for that matter," she shrugged as she sat down next to me, finally giving up her I'm-the-only-adult-here expression. "And right now I think I need to know. I mean... I'd really appreciate any help with understanding what's going on with you..."

"She's right. Outside of assuring us no one tortured or coerced you, you never actually talked about it," confirmed grandma. Leaving and you need to talk about it, thorny wisely unspoken.

I thought about the time I spent on the rebel base and realized they weren't wrong. I was either fixing things or asking people for more things to fix, mainly in attempts to hide myself behind walls of faulty machinery every time any of my relatives tried to lure me into this very conversation. But things changed now. Suddenly I felt I could talk about. True, I could have talked about it at any given time because nothing about those memories was particularly painful… It just didn't feel right somehow. I wasn't in the right frame of mind. I was bound to give them a series of outbursts rather than any kind of real information. Now, though…

"It was like this…"

… long, long time before…

"Don't even think about it, whitey" I said as I saw an ominous shadow slide closer. "I need two more minutes here. Then we can exchange insurance information."

The Stormtrooper – at least I presumed it was a Stormtrooper, because the whole neighborhood seemed to be full of them – responded by just awkwardly standing over me as I turned off my soldering iron and put away the rest of my tools. Perhaps I shocked him by my tone and general lack of interest in his First Order bullshit. It wouldn't be the first time my attitude caused people forget what they were about to say. Still... I kind of impressed myself. These people were supposedly the scariest thing in our corner of the universe.

Oh well – wouldn't be the first time I encountered false advertisement. The first time it had to do with armed invaders, though.

"Right. Now, what can I possibly help you with?" I said, getting up while letting my droid know it was time to scatter by a hand gesture I made behind my back. I didn't dare look to make sure it understood, just fervently hoped it knew to keep itself out of harm's way.

It would make me feel a whole lot better to know at least one of us did.

"You will follow me to our ship," said the Stormtrooper.

"I will follow you to… What is this? A Jedi mind trick? At least point a gun at me when you're going to say stuff like that."

He did.

I sighed, took one last look at my house that managed to catch on fire somehow while I was busy fixing the damage the unhinged guy with the lightsaber inflicted on my favorite beeping household appliance. Of course it did. Because watching my place burn down would be a perfect ending for a perfect day.

"You should take these," said the Stormtrooper pointing at the bag overflowing with tools that was still on the ground at my feet. "You might need them."

"What…?"

... few minutes later...

So normally I would comment on whoever was responsible for this minimalist, monochromatic design everything in my line of sight including the people seemed to have. But I was simply… done.

So… fucking… done…

I dropped my tools at my feet and sat down among the Stormtroopers, too exhausted to even consider how hilarious this sight must seem to an onlooker, what with me wearing a pair of electric-blue shorts and a shirt with a rude message on it, here, in the midst of all this unnatural whiteness. I hoped there was someone in here to appreciate it, anyway. Usually I'd be the one, but right now I just couldn't find it in myself.

There was this person I turned into in situations like this one, but I didn't seem to be able to locate her. It might have been because there simply was no precedent – nothing that could really be described as a situation like this one. Being apprehended by a bunch of warmongering fanatics and given no explanation whatsoever was a new territory for me. If I wasn't so exhausted, so damn numb, I might be actually getting worried. But as it was I simply sat there, for all intents and purposes just another personality-devoid soldier that just happened to forget to put on the uniform.

These shell-shocked thoughts weighed me down like something that might be here to stay. Maybe they were. Maybe I was to be this confused sleepwalker for the few short hours I had left and I didn't even have the energy to ask myself why they didn't shoot me already. That felt like something I should have some emotional response to, but… nope. There just wasn't anything here.

Of course that changed pretty quickly the moment something shiny walked into my field of vision. All my worry and exhaustion was gone and before I knew I was going to do that I covered my eyes against the glare of the reflective surfaces in a ridiculously exaggerated way.

That was one thing I did. The other – the far more important one – was that I remembered. That's how I used to react to situations like this. I turned all thorny…

"Well, that's clearly not your standard armor. Let me guess. You're in charge here?"