A/N: Hello from Ruhnuk! It's been quite an interesting place, visually as well as story-wise. At the moment of writing I've only spent a couple of hours there, but mostly enjoyed myself so far. There was a single moment though, which made me go all livid and loud and "hell no, you're not gonna do this to me again". Until then had no plans to write anything related to 7.2 content, but echo of that one scene decided to be too persistent. It just doesn't want to go away - so here I am, posting another unsent letter from my paranoid smuggler to the love of her life.
An unsent message by The Alliance Commander, addressed to Theron Shan.
Theron,
I'm scared.
Not sure I'm gonna tell you about the whole of Ruhnuk - about the details - anytime soon. There's more to it than what you already know. Our Mando friends cherish honor of allies as much as their own, so they will stay silent on that incident.
What had happened there was like the road to carbonite prison all over again. Suddenly I was weak and helpless, not quite conscious, being dragged somewhere against my will. Unable to fight back, to break free. Unable to come back home. All alone. It didn't last long, soon I was back on my feet and with an ally by my side, but the experience still burns in memory.
Because I was so very, very afraid.
You know, I thought I'd be ready. After all these satisfying but dangerous years we've had together, I thought I'd handle such circumstances better prepared, easier able to let it all go. But no, I absolutely wasn't ready to leave our life just yet, not even for a moment and definitely not forever. If I weren't already paralyzed with the sonic weapon, the fear of not seeing you ever again could do that to me just as well.
And, would you? Knowing how the world looks like now; knowing how little we can do to make it better; knowing what you know about the two of us together; would you scourge the galaxy to find me again?
Of course you would. I don't even need to ask. And I don't want to ask, because it'd make you think I don't trust you anymore; while actually I trust you more than I trust myself. Doing what we do, we should be fearless. But I'm not ready to die, nor I'm ready to live without you. Such thoughts terrify me to no end, disturb my dreams and make focusing on anything so much harder.
Don't want my fears to become a self-fulfilling prophecy.
What I'd like to ask you one of these days, is how can you deal with threats so grave with a smile on your face and with hands so steady. You can hide the worries somewhere deep inside, away from the surface, even though I know they're still there. I've never been any good at hiding anything. Living on the edge for so long somehow didn't manage to teach me that skill. It feels like it might be already too late for that, and lack of composure or restraint in face of danger might kill me one day. I'm scared of dying due to own weakness.
But while I'm still alive and kicking, I'm coming back home. I know you'll be waiting for me, with that warm smile and soothing embrace of yours; and my stupid fears will be gone for a while. So, I'm still holding on. And even terrified beyond reason, I still am yours and yours only, until my dying breath -
(message appears to be unfinished, lacking the signature)