Aedan Organa-Solo is a cocky, manipulative bitch.

Thanks, in no small part to her family, that is. The intertwining of Skywalkers and Solos – whoever conceived of such a fusion clearly underestimated the impact it would have on the galaxy. The amalgamation of Vader's lineage with that of the galaxy's most adept smuggler has given rise to two of the most formidable individuals humanity has ever witnessed.

Back when he first met Aedan, he'd spent months oscillating between harboring a juvenile crush on her and grappling with an abject fear that if she ever embraced the dark side, she might genuinely possess the capability to unravel the fabric of the universe. It's only through the benevolence of fate, that, unlike Ben, she finds herself on the side that doesn't bring about universal annihilation.

Her beauty is striking, a power undiminished by her awareness of it. She deploys it with a balance no more or less than how she wields her agility and strength.

She is experienced, a carefully honed set of skills amplifying her already formidable talents.

Yet, despite being the offspring of Generals Organa and Solo, he is certain that her two most potent attributes are at the very core of it all, she really is a cocky, manipulative bitch.

In his more profound moments (which have been scarce lately), he might even remove the 'bitch' part from the description. Aedan is many things, but being a 'bitch' is an occasional facet of her personality, not a defining trait; rather, it's more akin to a distinctive trait, a nuanced undertone that adds depth to the complex narrative of her guarded expressions and meticulously controlled body language. Beneath the surface lie intricate undulations of emotion, sometimes stark and striking.

However, she undeniably possesses manipulative prowess. It's a function of her innate, seemingly effortless talent for comprehending people – understanding their inner workings, motivations, fears, and vulnerabilities. She's never needed to be Force-sensitive to excel at reading people. It's honestly quite unsettling.

But it's also what initially drew him to her. Nobody possesses such a skill without genuinely caring about people.

And she cares about him.

He cares about her too.

In fact, he loves her.

Despite, or perhaps because of, her cocky, manipulative tendencies.

Or maybe it's all part of the allure?

here's a passage in one of his numerous psychological evaluations that mentions his remarkable level of awareness.

He wonders if the psychologist had been referring to his ability to calculate and predict maneuvers before the enemy even conceives them – the quality that makes him the Resistance's finest pilot.

Or perhaps, they were.

Because when it comes down to it, what's the actual distinction between a preemptive counterstrike and a nagging bout of self-doubt while under fire?

Nothing really.

For years, his sole focus had been on being the greatest pilot in Resistance history.

But everything changed when they literally stumbled into each other.

Suddenly, his world shifted, and being the best pilot was no longer the sole priority. The Resistance was no longer the only important thing in his life.

Because he broke his number one rule.

He let her in.

And he allowed her to see just how deeply she had affected him.

He stood by her side at the temple, vowing never to leave her, but she made the choice for him.

And for what?

Perhaps he'll never truly understand.

Maybe it's best if he never does.

Upon her mother's orders, he reached out to her once more, to bring her back to her family, to him, where she belongs.

Though he'd never admit it aloud, he held his breath while waiting for a reply he was almost certain would never come. But then, it did:

Coruscant. Entrance to the Underworld. 2100 hours.

After reading her message, he couldn't help but conclude that she was undeniably manipulative.

She knew him well enough to understand he had been eagerly awaiting her response.

And she was aware that, given it was her mother's directive, he would be unable to ignore it.

She knows him.

It would be infuriating if it didn't fill him with so much hope. Perhaps she isn't entirely out of his reach.

After all, he's nothing if not perceptive. Her message seemed impersonal enough to hint at a personal connection, brisk enough to imply urgency, and vague enough to suggest a common adversary. She sent it as a direct response to his own outreach, though he suspects it's not entirely direct.

She's trying to distance herself from him, from them. And, somehow, this impersonal approach might be better for now.

Easier, perhaps.

Descending the stairs two at a time, he adjusts the edges of his favorite leather jacket, where his sidearm is securely holstered, within easy reach if necessity calls for it.

She's waiting.

He may not fully understand her motivations, fears, insecurities, or even her pain anymore, but he does know how she operates.

She's waiting.