Chapter Text
The lukewarm water felt like heaven as it sputtered out of the opening overhead, raining down on Raelle’s tired body and soothing the aching muscles that protested every time she so much as thought about moving.
Or breathing.
Or existing.
It had been a rough mission.
She groaned as her shoulders seized, phantom straps digging into her chest and cutting into her burning body as they tried to pull her back, hold her in place.
She leaned forward, resting her head against the cool shower wall, water dripping down her face and cascading across her bruised back like the waterfalls she had heard of on distant planets. Tiny rivulets turned into streams trailing across her once tawny skin, outlining the chorded muscles down to the curve of her hips, sticking to the lines of her ribs and mingling with the exhaustion pooling in the small of her back.
Her squadron had been called out on a mission. What was meant to be an assist in scouting a trading route that had reported signs of activity possibly linked to First Order weapons orders had turned into a battle as First Order fighters appeared out of nowhere. No warning. No sign.
Nothing but the first shot that smashed into Byron’s hull, knocking him out of formation.
What happened next was a blur of cannon fire and BB going crazy when a direct hit took out her entire shield capabilities.
For the first time, Raelle had truly been without protection, needing to use every trick and ounce of luck she had to stay in the fight, to not turn into bits of debris floating around like so many others had.
God, she hoped she and BB could figure out how to get those shields back up and online. They’d been on the fritz a few times, wobbling in and out, but they’d never fully disappeared.
The generator had never taken a direct hit.
Her X-Wing barely made it back to base, smoldering and half on fire as she skidded into the landing bay. Technicians sprinted toward her as she rammed her shoulder into the canopy, the hydraulic hinges jammed shut.
She couldn’t get out, and acrid smoke was filling the cockpit.
It was Abigail, wrench in hand swinging widely, who jumped in first, shouting at the others to help her open the stuck lid so Raelle could scramble out of the flaming vessel.
Tally saved BB, helping wrench the droid out as Glory and a technician gathered around Abigail, prying the metal up far enough that Raelle could crawl out, coughing as smoke filled her lungs, black wisps scorching the back of her throat and causing her lungs to painfully contract as she desperately searched for air.
The blonde was drawn out of her thoughts when the door to the shower glided open, a quiet exhaled curse pricking her ears while the rush of cool air prickled her skin, causing tiny bumps to form along her naked flesh. She felt someone slide in behind her, the door closing with a muted click.
She slumped further against the wall as soft lips delicately kissed the back of her shoulder.
Lithe arms wrapped around her waist, a familiar chest pressing into her back.
“Your X-Wing looks like shit.” Scylla mumbled.
Raelle let out a choked laugh, “Yeah.” She sniffled, suddenly wanting to cry. To curl up in a strong secure embrace and let herself go.
She didn’t.
She couldn’t.
But, oh, did she want to.
She closed her eyes tightly at the tender touch, breath hitching as another kiss brushed like a whisper against her back.
She suddenly felt so tired.
Tired and frustrated and hopeless and angry and sad.
A storm blustered and billowed inside, twisting and turning until it tangled into an overwhelming monstrosity that choked her mind.
Her chin quivered, and she bit down hard, her entire face spasming with pain at the force ricocheting along her jaw and into her head. Teeth hurting enough to make her wonder if they would bleed or shatter.
Hands gentle as clouds, Scylla carefully spun Raelle around, touching her forehead to her girlfriend’s and brushing their noses together, “Hey.”
“Hey.” Raelle breathed out, a tiny hiccup of a sob escaping with the single word. She curved her hands around Scylla’s strong supple hips and held her close. Her fingers flexed against bare skin, wanting to dig in as deep as possible, have her entire body burrow in, hide from the world, not have to worry about broken ships or war. Let Scylla see the scared emotional soul who kept feeling like she was back in the pilot’s seat, swerving dangerously close to a cannon blast, the world spinning and tumbling as she fought for control, lights flashing and her droid blaring.
Scylla tutted softly, running her hands up her sides to cup the crook of her neck, lovingly tracing the strap shaped bruises mottling her skin.
“Thought you were on Coruscant.” Raelle said instead of the words that stuck to the roof of her mouth. Words like ‘love’ and ‘need’ and ‘let’s run away together.’
Words that would do neither of them any good.
Not now.
Maybe not ever.
“Got back early.” Scylla swiped a streak of water from her brow, “Missed my girlfriend.” She nudged her nose against her cheek, words washing over Raelle’s mouth, “I missed you.”
Raelle kissed her.
Kissed her like she was the balm to every ache, the answer to every doubt, the source of inspiration for every thought and action she’d ever mused.
Scylla tasted like home and freedom, like a cozy bed and unending skies.
She felt like everything Raelle would ever want or need.
Scylla kissed her back, eagerly accepting but not letting them spiral, not giving in completely to the want coming to life low in her belly. Instead, for the first time, she slowed the kiss, turned it soft, long, achingly gentle.She didn’t reach for a breast or hungrily guide Raelle to her knees. No, she ran her thumbs along the underside of Raelle’s jaw, caressing as her fingers massaged the nape of her neck, carefully breaking the kiss to whisper fervently, “Tell me you’re ok.”
A gulp, “I...” she stammered, the simple lie not coming forth, “I don’t know.”
Hearing the stuttered confession broke something inside of the spy that she didn't even know could break. Something close to a word she refused to utter. Had desperately sworn to herself ever since she met the pilot that she would never even entertain the ridiculous thought of.
Yet, hearing those cracked words had her own body feeling as if she were the one spinning through space, stomach dropping and paralyzing fear making her unable to do anything. With nothing to hold on to. Nothing but the younger woman standing before her.
If she would even still be there, waiting to catch her.
With a coldness seeping into her veins, another feeling, warm, blazing, insistent, threaded through her mind and into her body.
She wanted to take care of Raelle. Be there for her, with her. Make sure she was ok. Make the coldness reflected in both their souls disappear.
Just like Raelle had been doing since the moment their eyes first met. Chipping away and replacing all the emptiness inside of Scylla with something...else. Something...special. Something Scylla found herself cherishing every time she left for a mission or found herself alone, missing her lover's lopsided grin and honey sweet voice.
Without looking, Scylla reached out and snagged the small rag and soap Raelle had brought with her and set aside. She deftly lathered the soap into the rag, fingertips lightly cupping Raelle’s chin. Mouth tremulous, the brunette tilted Raelle’s head to the side, wiping the sudsy cloth down her jaw, cleaning away tiny specks of dirt and despair. After every pass, she reverently kissed each newly revealed patch of skin, washing away and replacing anew.
As she kissed along her collar bone, Scylla felt something shift inside, settle in place. A tiny movement in her chest that had her breath tremble and her hand shake ever so slightly. A realization that floated up to her mind, a part of herself revealed that she never thought could be there, that she could feel.
She swallowed the words that sparked on the tip of her tongue with a swipe across a shoulder, tasting the mixture of water droplets and care...affection...love.
Her instincts told her to run. To not allow it to happen. She wasn’t meant for this. She never experienced this, and how could she survive if she gave in to the unknown? Didn’t leave when staying was never an option? Except, for the first time, it was.
For the first time, a part of her, a part growing with every day she spent falling asleep and waking up next to this enchanting woman, believed in words she never before trusted.
Hope.
Love.
Belonging.
The memory of hearing that Raelle was in trouble, Blue Leader had landed with her ship on fire after an unexpected battle, produced a fear Scylla hadn’t felt since she was sixteen and curled in a cubbyhole beneath the floorboards, her parents refusing to cooperate with strangers holding pistols to their heads.
She hadn’t saved them. Hadn’t acted. Remained hidden even while they stood bravely. Even when they were murdered.
She hadn’t been there when Raelle landed, hurt and close to being consumed by smoke and fire, unable to escape.
She almost lost the most important person in the galaxy.
She almost lost the reason she felt this way. This way that was so terrifying yet not as scary as the very idea that it could go away. That Raelle could go away.
Raelle’s eyes never left her, softly closing at one point, letting the feel of the gentle ministrations take hold in her mind, allowing her body to relax in the safe comfort the spy offered.
As the cloth eased down a firm belly, Raelle caught Scylla’s hand, flattening her palm across the back of it and holding it still. Scylla blinked at her, her eyes slipping closed as Raelle leaned into her, letting her mouth melt against winsome lips. The hand atop Scylla’s tightened, fingers lacing and lifting it away.
The rag fell to the floor as Raelle brought the hand up, twisting her wrist and letting palms touch. Kissing Scylla harder, she pushed into her, the spray of the water making their skin slick and wily. Raelle urged her back until Scylla touched the wall, water crashing down on them as Scylla’s hand was pressed against the smooth tile, held firmly in place
Heat dripped down Scylla’s thighs, mixing with the fresh water pounding against Raelle’s back as the blonde draped her body against her, tasting every inch of her mouth before biting at her neck.
“Ok?” Raelle asked, teeth worrying a patch of pale skin.
Scylla gulped, nodding.
Even in the haze of want that descended on her mind, she could feel the way Raelle’s grip was unsteady on her hand. They way she shook in the warm water.
Scylla’s breath caressed her ear, “What do you need?”
“You. Always you.”
She kissed a tiny patch of skin, “Then, take me.”
Scylla cradled the hand in her own, delicate fingertips tracing the lines etched into the palm, broken and cracked knuckles safely nestled in her grasp. She hummed softly to herself as she reached the end of tired fingertips, lightly stroking the pads before restarting the journey once again. She looked up from where she was perched on a stool next to the utilitarian bed, sheets thin and crisp, a place not for comfort but recovery. Raelle was leaned back, head resting on a small pillow, faded smile tugging at her mouth as she looked back at Scylla. Bandages peeked out from beneath the loose white cotton top that she had been changed into once they arrived at the base, the flowing cotton trousers scrunched up at her feet, a bit too long for her short lanky frame.
Malnourished and dehydrated, her already small frame swam in the borrowed clothing.
“Hi.” Raelle mumbled hoarsely once she caught Scylla’s eyes. She cleared her throat, grimacing slightly at the scratchiness.
“Hi.” Scylla whispered back, not wanting to disturb the peacefulness that had enveloped the small medical room.
Raelle’s fingers curled up, intercepting Scylla’s and tangling with them, “You’re so beautiful.”
“Your charm won’t work this time.” Scylla smiled, pushing away the slight heat that threatened to paint her cheeks a dusty pink. “You’re on bedrest.”
“Can do a lot in bed.”
“Not that.”
“Got proof of that Intelligence, Ramshorn?”
“Besides Healer's orders?”
The blonde frowned grumpily
“You are a stubborn patient.” Scylla added.
Raelle rolled her eyes, “He didn’t know what he was talking about.”
“He’s a medical droid, Raelle. He is literally built and programmed specifically for this.”
“Ouch” Raelle growled, glaring through half lidded eyes at the droid as it poked her side.
“Third degree burns from close range rifle blast. Surgical grafting of supplemental organic matter is recommended.” the droid summarized, robotic voice droning on as it scuttled forward, prodding harder at the wound.
Raelle weakly batted it away, “It’s fine. I don’t need any surgery.”
“If surgery is not elected there is a 75% chance…”
“I don’t want to hear it.”
“I do.” Scylla stood in the doorframe for the medical room, stern look on her face making Raelle’s mouth snap shut, “75% chance of what?”
“75% chance of infection leading to 100% scarring. Factoring in a weakened immune system, malnutrition, previous environmental conditions, amount of time since the injury occurred, and lack of self-care, there is an 80% chance of eventual organ failure.”
“Those are not correct.” Raelle feebly gestured.
The droid almost looked affronted, “My calculations are correct.”
Raelle opened her mouth but was instantly cut off by Scylla, “She will have the skin grafts. And, she’s going to do whatever you think is best for her overall medical care.”
“I know this stuff.” Raelle groused. “It’s not that bad.”
She refused to look at Scylla.
They both knew it was that bad.
Raelle grumbled to herself with a tiny pout that Scylla couldn’t resist kissing. The brunette tenderly kissed her again, savoring the fact that she could do so.
“If you say - it’s just a scratch - again, I’ll have the droid come back and run through an entire diagnostic exam for a second time.” Scylla settled back in her seat.
“He’s annoying.”
“He knows medicine.”
“I know medicine.”
“You’re a pilot. He’s a medical droid.”
“I could be a medic.”
“Listen to the droid, Raelle.”
Raelle bit her lip, face turning dark, an invisible shadow passing over it.
“What is it?” Scylla asked, her smile evening out, immediately noticing the change in her lover. Was something hurting? Was she dizzy? Sick? Something else? She was prepared to call the medical droid and any other person or machine around who could help.
Raelle shrugged, gaze dropping to where she had started mindlessly picking at the sheet wrapped around her legs. The confession was quiet, mundane, an attempt to not let her voice fill with the emotions swirling in her heart, “I miss BB.”
Scylla’s shoulders dropped.
BB.
Raelle’s droid.
Her friend.
A constant companion for years.
“She could still be out there, Raelle.”
A scoff, “Yeah, reprogrammed as a First Order bot, if she even survived at all.”
“Raelle,”
Raelle shook her head, “It’s fine.”
Scylla scooted closer, holding her hand between both of hers, “It’s ok to miss BB.” Her voice dipped, “It’s ok to miss all of them.”
She knew this would be difficult for Raelle. Death could be a sensitive subject for her. Loss. She could remember Raelle’s face, the look in her eyes, the way the emotions coiled and crashed around her, so palpable that Scylla could feel them herself, when Raelle first told her about her mother. About how she died.
Raelle’s emotions could be wild. Passionate. Exhilarating.
They could also be devastating.
Raelle blinked, the sparkle in her eye tearful, “It’s just…” she trailed off, pursing her lips.
Holding in her thoughts. Her emotions.
Scylla knew, even though Raelle could explode in temperament, any outburst was better than this. Pushing it down. Away. Numbing herself to what was happening.
Raelle wasn’t meant to be cold. She burned hotter than the brightest sun.
The dead vacant air that could overtake her made Scylla shiver in fear. For both of them.
She refused to ever let Raelle turn into that.
Turn into someone who wasn’t alive.
“Hey,” Scylla lifted her hand to her mouth, pressing a gentle kiss to her knuckles, “You did what you could. More than you could. None of this is your fault. No one would want you to think that.”
Raelle’s lashes fluttered, the corner of her mouth twitching morosely, “I should’ve stuck by Byron. He was right there…”
“There was nothing you could do, Raelle.” Scylla silently beseeched her to listen, “You didn’t order the attack.” She exhaled, “You didn’t order your squadron to meet it.”
The First Order had.
Alder had.
Alder had ordered outgunned and outmanned pilots to fly out as sacrifices while she and those she deemed worthy, important enough, ran away.
Scylla had run away.
Without even saying goodbye.
The brunette pushed those thoughts away. She couldn’t focus on that. Not on herself. Not when Raelle was right there, on the brink of being shattered. Barely held together by stubbornness, heart, and Scylla’s hands holding her own.
Raelle’s head flickered to the side, brows and chin quivering.
Scylla held the cut up hand against her lips, mouthing the words into the healing skin, “You. Did. Everything. You. Could.”
Raelle pursed her lips, eyes distant, “I could hear him.” Her throat bobbed, “I could hear Abi. They just needed one...one shot from me, one fly by to distract, draw attention away, and they’d be fine.” The blue slowly seemed to drain from her eyes, foggy somber grey taking over, her voice sounding like nothing Scylla had ever heard from her before, “I almost got you hurt.”
Raelle’s head wobbled, “I can’t, Scyl.”
“Yes, you can.” she holstered her gun and crouched down, “Come on, Raelle. It’s only a little bit farther.”
Raelle shook her head ruefully, “Once you hit the hangar, you gotta run. I can’t run, Scyl.”
“You are coming with me.”
“I’m already slowing you down.” Raelle's brows dipped.
“Raelle,”
“You could’ve been killed. Hurt.” She blinked, “I don’t know how you didn’t.”
Except for a few minor bruises and scratches, little aches and pains, Scylla was fine.
Not like Raelle who had to be physically carried into the medical bay.
Who had all but passed out before she was carefully laid in the bed she currently occupied.
Scylla traced the circle of her wrist, “Don’t worry about me. Ok?”
“You could’ve been hurt because of me. Because I…”
“I wasn’t leaving you behind.” Scylla’s eyes flashed, “Would you have left me behind? If I was hurt?”
Raelle inhaled shakily, “Of course not.”
“Then, why would I ever leave you?” she fiddled with the end of Raelle’s sleeve, “I go where you go, remember?”
Words once spoken to Anacostia that had become a declaration for the entire base’s ears.
“Do you still mean it?” the words tasted bitter and harsh in Scylla’s mouth, but they came out, ghosts of a fearful need to know where Raelle truly stood in that moment. Where her head was. “Are you still with me?” Were they still by each other’s sides?
Raelle didn’t hesitate.
“Always.”
Scylla tenderly squeezed her hand. “We’ll figure it out.” She recited the words that lodged in her heart when Raelle quietly made vows neither of them were fully prepared for but which both of them had felt every day since they met, “I’m in this with you. I’m in. No matter what happens. No matter what anybody else thinks. I’m with you.”
The doors to the room slid open with a hiss.
Anacostia strode in, pausing at the sight of the two young women so close to each other.
“Collar, good to see you back.” she finally greeted, a twinge of affection twisting in her words.
Raelle subtly wiped at her eyes, drawing her hand out of Scylla’s grasp, “Anacostia.”
“Ramshorn,” Anacostia nodded at the brunette, “your information has proven invaluable as the General plans our assault on the First Order base.”
“That’s a first.” Scylla rested a hand on Raelle’s hip.
Anacostia didn’t respond to the sarcastic barb, instead turning her gaze back to Raelle, “We are all eager for your recovery, Collar, and look forward to you rejoining the ranks as soon as possible.”
Scylla’s hand tightened.
Rejoin the ranks.
Of course that’s what they worried about.
Another warm body to send out to the front lines.
Not caring the last time they sent her out, she didn’t come back.
She almost died.
Scylla silently inhaled deeply, taking comfort in the feel of Raelle so close to her. In the warmth she could feel through the thin sheet beneath her palm. Strengthening the calmness she needed to be for her girlfriend through simply knowing Raelle was right there next to her, safe and healing.
Anacostia stood tall, hands clasped behind her back, “While Scylla’s information on the First Order base is very helpful, the General would like to understand what information you may have, Collar.”
“No,” Scylla shook her head, “She’s still recovering.”
They were not doing this now.
Not when Raelle was still so vulnerable.
Physically and mentally.
“You know as well as I do that the sooner we talk about this, the less chance for her to forget something. Something that could prove vital.”
“What more could Alder possibly need? I told you the layout of the base. Their weaponry and combat capabilities. You even have one of their ships.”
“And we are grateful for that,” Anacostia didn’t back down, “But, there may be something you did not see or have the time to discover.”
“So she sent you to interrogate Raelle before she’s even had time to rest?” Time to process what had happened to her. To realize that she was safe and cared for and alive.
For both of them to fully comprehend she was alive.
“General Alder wanted to speak with her, herself, along with her council, before Raelle even arrived at medical.” Anacostia shot back, “I volunteered to conduct the interview considering my...closeness...with you both and participation in the original mission to the Cession.”
Her message was clear.
She’d bought Raelle time to at least be seen by the medical droid and not make Raelle have to speak with a roomful of strangers. With Alder. With people who didn’t care and more than likely didn’t even know her name beyond a brief glance at a file.
Scylla knew she should be grateful. A part of her was.
But, another part of her wanted to protect Raelle from anything, including having to relive the nightmare of her imprisonment.
Resistance be damned.
“Ramshorn, if you could give us a minute.” Anacostia tilted her chin up, signaling for Scylla to leave.
“I’m not going anywhere.”
She was not leaving Raelle’s side until she was back to full strength and smiling again.
She went where Raelle went.
“I’ll do it.” Raelle spoke up, exhausted red laced eyes focused on her hands that were rubbing together in her lap.
“Raelle,” Scylla turned to her, caressing her hip, the sheet wrinkling at her movements.
“What do you want to know?” Raelle asked passively, no fight left inside of her.
Anacostia seemed to sigh in resignation, understanding what she was about to do, “How did the First Order capture you?”
Raelle pressed the pad of her thumb into her palm, “I don’t know. I was flying. I saw one of the destroyers aiming at a transport vessel. Most likely one containing officers. I was able to intercept the shot, but it knocked out my shields. Before I could recover, a second took out my right wings. We lost power.” Her words came out mild, almost monotone, but the stress was visible in the crinkles around her eyes, in the way her thumb pressed harder and harder into her hand, “I thought I could take out a ship, one of their guns, maybe the whole thing, if I crashed into it. I...I blacked out before we could hit anything.”
Anacostia took this in, “Tractor beam. Many destroyers have them. You most likely got caught in it and pulled in.”
Raelle shrugged, not looking away from her hands, not caring about an answer.
Unable to ignore the anxiety rolling off her girlfriend in waves, each one slamming into her like she was the sands of a beach’s shoreline, Scylla gingerly placed her hand on top of Raelle’s, prying them apart and taking hold, thumb soothing along the back of her palm.
“I woke up in a cell.” Raelle continued, watching Scylla’s thumb move back and forth, “Spent a few days there. They tried to get me to talk. About the base. About our abilities. Plans. I...I didn’t say anything. I swear I didn’t.”
“We know.” Scylla assured her.
“Sometimes they’d send in someone I knew.”
“Someone you knew?” Anacostia questioned.
“Scylla. Abigail. Tally. You.” Raelle’s hand tightened around Scylla’s, “I didn’t tell them anything. They said it was ok to. I didn’t listen.”
Anacostia seemed to deflate as Raelle spoke, “Mind manipulation.”
“One day, we were transported to the Cession. Another cell. I didn’t even know till they dragged us outside one day.” She stopped, her breath becoming ragged.
“Raelle,” Scylla ducked her head, searching for her eyes, “you don’t have to talk about this right now.”
She’d fight the entire base if she had to.
Raelle gazed down at her hands, lost in her own mind, “They needed us to clean up debris. Get rid of junk that was in the way of construction.” She began to shake, “At first, I didn’t even know what it was. I just thought it was junk.” Her mouth trembled, “I saw his gloves. I’d know them anywhere. He wore them every day.”
“Whose gloves?” Anacostia asked.
Raelle didn't answer, holding on to Scylla’s hand so tightly the brunette was starting to lose feeling. Scylla didn’t flinch. Didn’t move. Gave Raelle whatever she needed.
“Whose gloves, Raelle?” Anacostia tried again.
“My dad’s.” she whispered.
Anacostia’s back straightened.
Raelle sniffed, “There were bones. Clothes. They were houses. We were removing houses. People.”
That was enough.
Scylla leaned over, cupping Raelle’s cheek, “It’s ok. You’re ok.” She peeked over her shoulder at Anacostia, “She’s done. You have everything you need.” She turned back to Raelle, kissing the crown of her head.
“When I wasn’t working, they kept trying to make me talk.” Raelle finally looked up, not seeming to hear Scylla. Not seeming to even be aware of anyone other than those in her mind. A tear rolled down her cheek, and Scylla carefully wiped it away. “Sometimes they’d hit me. Sometimes they’d use people I love to talk to me. Sometimes...sometimes they tried to tell me why the Republic was hurting us. Told me about how the Republic abandoned my planet. Left us for dead. Abandoned other planets. That...the First Order cared. Wanted better for the galaxies. Could finally bring peace and prosperity. Order.”
“They tried to recruit you?” Anacostia confirmed as Scylla caressed Raelle’s cheek.
Raelle gave a tiny noncommittal nod.
Scylla kissed her forehead, focusing on the feel of the woman in her arms and not the rage burning deep within her belly.
The First Order tried to break Raelle.
Hurt her. Manipulated her.
Took her family from her.
Scylla silently vowed to make them regret it. To get justice.
To protect and avenge her girl.
“I love you.” she whispered against Raelle’s skin, closing her eyes against her own tears. She didn’t care that they had an audience. That Anacostia was standing right there watching them. She didn’t pull away, instead, trying to put as much love as possible into her words, her touch.
Raelle needed her.
She was never going to let anything stop her from being there for her.
“You did well, Collar. You were brave. We are all very proud of you.” Anacostia spoke up kindly. She gave another sigh, “Do you know why they chose the Cession?”
“No,” Raelle shook her head.
“Anything? Anything you overheard or saw?” Anacostia encouraged. “Even if it seems insignificant.”
“No.”
“Wait,” Scylla frowned. Something tickled at the back of her mind. “They were about ready to start a new phase.” What had it been? What was it?
She needed to remember.
The boots stopped.
“Really?” a woman’s voice asked delightedly.
“Yes,” her partner replied. “Once the final preparations are complete, we have received orders to begin the extraction.”
“Finally,” a laugh, “has Intelligence discovered where the Tarim are?”
“They believe so. We are sending patrols to scout the area to confirm. Once done, the base should be complete and we can finally turn this backwards hellhole into something useful.”
“Finally.”
“The Tarim.”
Anacostia frowned.
“I overheard officers talking about the Tarim.” Scylla recalled. “They spoke about extraction and scouting out where the Tarim are.”
“Who or what are the Tarim?” Anacostia perked up slightly, serious but interested.
Scylla had no idea.
“Nomads.” Raelle mumbled.
Scylla curved her hand around, lightly scratching the back of her head, “What?”
Raelle cleared her throat, voice raspy with emotion, “The Tarim are a bunch of nomads. They live outside of the Valley. In the Tarim Basin. Keep to themselves. Mama...mama used to go out there, sometimes. Would help if they had a sickness or someone was badly injured. I went along a couple times. They don’t like outsiders. Worse than Cessions.”
“Why would the First Order care about them?” Anacostia asked.
“Maybe they think the Tarim could be a problem for the base?” Scylla tossed out. “An annoyance? Better to get rid of anything that could pose a threat?”
“They’re peaceful people. Don’t believe in fighting.” Raelle shook her head. “Keep to themselves, anyways. Never once came to our village.”
“What else do you know about them?” Anacostia stared at the blonde.
Raelle squinted in thought, and Scylla brushed a lock of hair behind her ear, letting her fingers trace the arch of her ear. “Some said they knew magic. Stupid rumors. Said they could do things that didn’t make sense. Weren’t natural.”
“Like what?” the officer prodded.
“I don’t know. Move things without touching them. That kind of stuff.” She scoffed, “Some people said they knew the Force, but everyone knows that’s a bunch of bullshit.”
“Them knowing the Force?” Anacostia clarified.
“The Force.” Raelle replied. “Kids’ stories. It’s all made up. Besides, that’s all about Jedi or whatever, right? They’re all dead. That’s what the stories say, anyway. The Tarim aren’t Jedi, and they aren’t dead.”
Anacostia stood still, not saying anything, eyes hazy with thought.
Scylla focused on Raelle, though her words tumbled around in her head.
“We need to speak to the General.” Anacostia finally said, words firm.
“Why?” Raelle frowned.
“Because, Collar,” Anacostia turned to leave, “It’s not bullshit.”
“What isn’t?”
“The Force.”