… shortly after arrival to the Resistance Base…

"So about this list," said the rebel captain who seemed still very much exhausted after our little debriefing. I looked up from the defective healing tank I was in process of dismantling, just to make sure it was really me he was talking to.

"Yes…?" I said in the not-sure-what-you-mean-but-let's-pretend-I-do tone.

"The list of names you gave us," he explained.

"Oh yes. That," I smiled. "What about it…?"

"I just spoke to your grandmother and she seems to be under the impression they're all people you met since the destruction of the Starkiller Base."

"Yeah," I nodded, not seeing the problem. "It's like this. I gave them names so they're mine now. Alright, yeah, that sounded evil… heard it as soon as I said it. It's still true, though."

"You gave them names," he repeated. Not really confused – more amazed than anything else. "Just how did that happen…?"

I smiled, putting down the component I've been trying to glare back into some semblance of functionality. If I was going to do this, it deserved my full attention. "Sit down. This is going to take a lot of context," I said. And to my surprise he did – he sat down on the floor opposite me with a this-better-be-good expression.

I took a breath. "So first of all the time scale. You need that, just to appreciate how awesome I am. Because at this point I'm still convinced I'm in the First Order for life and I'll only get to leave that ship when we arrive to Snoke's super-secret hideout. And I spent the first hour of our escape from Starkiller by yelling at Hux and not getting murdered for it, having a profound change of heart over Kylo Ren, locating a drink dispenser that could do hot chocolate and having this bromance moment with Phasma. That was the first hour," I repeated for emphasis. He did look appropriately impressed – under all his shock that was.

"What did you do with the other fourteen hours…?" he said, clearly ready to be further shocked.

"I might have gone around the ship ordering random Stormtroopers to take their helmets off – and when they did, assigning them names. Mainly just to see the look on their faces. Have you ever...? No, you probably haven't. It's quite the heartbreaking sight. In a good way though. But, you know… three hours of that and my hate for the First Order was back. I felt like doing some serious damage to them."

"I'm almost scared to ask," said the rebel. He did look almost scared. Almost. The amusement he clearly felt kind of ruined the effect.

"I left Aurora and Hans and Beast…"

"Beast?" he asked, now openly laughing.

"Yeah. He was really hairy and I was running out of ideas. Anyway – I left them to have a moment to digest it all. Everyone deserves a moment of peace as they're having an identity crisis. And I went looking for the viewing lounge or whatever you call it. You know – that one room with a really lovely view of the galaxy. I knew the Finalizer had to have one, obviously."

"Obviously," nodded the rebel, smiling.

"You know – for Hux. So he can glare at the universe. And I thought I had weird coping mechanisms," I shook my head. "Anyway. Hour five, I guess. I found Tiana. She helped me find my way around – and then scattered out of sight because that girl had some solid survival instinct, let me tell you. One if-looks-could-kill glare from Hux and she was gone."

"But of course you stayed…"

"Of course. I was looking for him, after all."

"Why…?" asked the rebel captain, clearly ready for an answer he won't be able to make any sense of.

I was just about to answer him, when I realized I couldn't. I didn't have an answer. "I'm not entirely sure. I just felt like yelling at someone and he was clearly just about the worst possible someone aboard. And… I've told you about my suicidal tendencies, right? I thought I might have," I said in answer to his nod. "Well, that was all really. Don't you ever feel like spending some quality time with your worst enemies? You know, knowing you're making their already pretty bad day a whole lot worse simply by existing and breathing the same air and…"

"You have issues," he replied, shaking his head.

"Yeah – but they look good on me. Anyway, there I was…"

… aboard the Finalizer, not long ago…

"Are you seriously glaring at the galaxy? What the hell, general…? Not a rhetorical question, by the way. I'd love an answer. Were you not hugged as a child…? Is that it?"

"What do you want?"

"The stars," I said with a shrug. "I want them so much I'm willing to share."

He didn't look like he was willing to share, though. And here I was, once again not giving a damn about what he wanted. It was just about my favorite thing to do before I discovered I could actually trick Stormtroopers into showing me what they looked like if I gave an order confidently enough.

"Beautiful, isn't it…?" I said, ignoring everything from the murder in his eyes to the way he was clenching his fists. All of that seemed irrelevant next to the wonder that was this galaxy.

I took a few steps, stopping only after I got within an arm's reach. The last place I wanted to be, or so his glare seemed to suggest. I just smiled and turned my undivided attention to the starlit darkness we were traveling through.

This view was about the only thing that could make me to keep my constant inappropriate comments to myself. Even now, as I stood here with a mass murderer that showed no remorse whatsoever I found myself calmed by the sight. Reminded of all the other times, all the summer nights I spent looking up and just breathing, just... existing. Appreciating it all even as I wondered how the hell I was still alive to be taking in that wonderful sight when everything out of my mouth was an invitation to murder.

And just like that I remembered the explanation my grandma gave me once, when I breached the subject with her on a long ago summer night and part of me felt like crying.

"This might be the longest you've ever gone without talking," said Hux, making me realize I was just standing here in complete silence for minutes. I wasn't entirely sure he was wrong, so I just shrugged and kept my eyes on the stars.

"You know what might be the absolutely worst thing I've done since I began working for the wrong side in a galactic war…?" I said after I let a few more long, peaceful minutes pass in silence. "I never once tried to run. Oh, I know. It wouldn't have worked. Between the security on Starkiller and my absolute lack of stealth it would be just about the worst idea I ever had. Still, I should have tried."

"You should have," he agreed.

"You're only saying that because it would give you an excuse to have me killed."

He gave me a sideways look that made it clear that I guessed correctly. I just shook my head. "Doesn't excuse me in either case," I continued, speaking softly, more to the stars than to him. "I should have tried. I should be trying something right now. It's not like I have nothing to live for… there are people who love me..."

"Are there?" he said, sounding genuinely surprised. I rolled my eyes.

"Of course. I have a mother – loving me is her whole job. And grandma," I said, but quickly realized I needed to stop talking. Fast. Before the stars get any blurrier than they already were. "This probably makes you feel better, doesn't it…? That whatever you do doesn't just end with me. You made a whole bunch of people miserable for months now."

"I do enjoy seeing you suffer," he admitted.

Not really a new information – though I didn't expect he'll actually say it out loud. It was the kind of thing he usually only communicated in murderous glares.

"Right back at you, general," I smiled and turned my attention back to the stars.

… in the Ileenium system, not long after…

"So anyway, those were my next two hours. Then there was Alice and Sebastian and Timon. I grabbed some more chocolate. Had a moment with Megara. She seemed really nice. This close to breaking out of the conditioning…" I stopped, trying to figure out what exactly was wrong. The rebel captain was giving me a really weird look. "What?" I asked.

"Two hours?"

"About. How is that the part that impresses you?" I frowned.

"It's two hours longer than I ever spent hanging out with a war criminal."

"Oh. Good point. Also it wasn't like that. It was part of my evil plan, you know. People have harder time executing someone they spent some quality time trading exposition with. I'm pretty sure it's part of why I'm still alive," I said distractedly. "Not the whole of it, obviously. I think he might have had some evil plan of his own in letting me get away. Can't quite figure it out. But I will. It's just a matter of time."

"I have no idea why I always believe you when you say stuff like that," said the rebel, shaking his head.

"Yes you do. You know I'm the best expert on the First Order you have. I've been there. All those people you have psychological profiles for? I've met them. Called them something rude, probably."

He didn't answer, though that was an answer in itself. And just as he got up, ready to leave me to keep glaring at uncooperative machinery I realized there was something I was meaning to ask him. "So… I'm not exactly combat ready," I began. "But I need to be to join in all this fun we're having. So how do I go from here to whatever I need to be to be allowed to carry a weapon…?"

"Are you asking me for recommendation for combat training…?" he asked in disbelief. Clearly he did not see this coming.

"Yeah. That. That's what I need. Combat training," I said, nodding vigorously.

"I'll… see what I can do."