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4 BBY

The air on Yavin 4 was hot and humid, hitting Yuuri like a blast as he finally stumbled out of his ship. All around him people swarmed, human and non-human alike, darting through the hangar as they went about their business. Ships were clustered around him on every side, x-wing fighters, cargo ships, stolen Imperial vessels. Stacks of supplies were piled in every available space, groups of resistance fighters moving them to and fro as they chattered and laughed loudly with each other.

Yuuri stood still as he tried to take it all in, the awe of where he was finally hitting him full force. Yavin 4, the heart of the rebel alliance. The place he had strived to reach for so many years.

“Yuuri,” came a sharp call from across the hanger, the voice ringing clearly even above the din. Yuuri turned to see a tall figure approaching, a familiar face watching him with a hint of a smile on her lips.

“Commander Okukawa,” Yuuri replied, snapping to attention at the sight of his former mentor. It was thanks to Minako that he was there in the first place. Her training that had allowed him to be accepted into the heart of the Rebellion.

“I see you made it here safely then,” Minako replied, smile now clear on her face as she looked him up and down. “Welcome to Yavin 4, Yuuri.”

“I’m honoured to be here,” Yuuri told her but Minako just laughed, eyes twinkling as she looked at him.

“I wouldn’t say that too soon. I’ve already spoken to the higher ups about your assignment now that you’re here and they’ve decided to put you with Silver Squadron. They been down a pilot for a few weeks now and their wing commander thinks that you’ll fit right in. But I will warn you Yuuri, they train long and hard and there’s no room for mistakes. It won’t be an easy ride.”

“I came here to help win the war,” Yuuri insisted. “I don’t care what it takes.”

“Good,” Minako replied, and Yuuri could see the pride in her eyes. Then her gaze flickered to a point just over Yuuri’s shoulder and her face snapped into a mask of professionalism once again.

“Is this the new pilot you were telling me about?” came a voice from behind Yuuri, deep and rich and full of curiosity. Yuuri spun around, preparing to greet whoever the speaker was until…

Blue eyes stared back at him, as bright and piercing as he remembered from all those years ago. Silver hair was mussed from the helmet that was tucked under the man’s arm, the rank patch sewn onto his orange jumpsuit marking him out as a wing commander. Yuuri should have stood to attention in the presence of a higher ranking officer but all he could do was stare at the familiar face.

“Yuuri Katsuki,” Viktor Nikiforov grinned, extending a hand to take Yuuri’s own. “Welcome to the Resistance.”

13 BBY

Viktor had been the first member of the Resistance that Yuuri had ever met.

Before Viktor, nothing had ever seemed to happen on his sleepy little home planet, hovering just at the beginning of the outer rim. Hasetsu was a quiet place, rarely touched by the Empire and mainly unconcerned with the workings of the wider galaxy. There were no valuable minerals there for the Empire to strip, nor was it close enough to the core to be taken much notice of, as long as it continued to stay out of trouble. With most of the planet covered by huge swathes of shimmering blue ocean, the sparse population living on the few strips of land were mainly allowed to live out their lives in peace.

That had all changed when the Imperial shuttles arrived.

Yuuri was at the market the day they came, shopping for his parents as he did every few days. The faces of the people surrounding him were familiar and cheerful, vendors advertising their wears loudly above the hustle and bustle of the crowd.

All of that was drowned out by the roar of engines however, dust and sand kicking up all across the street as a shadow descended. Yuuri looked up to see a huge shape appearing out of the sky, a sleek metal monster of a spacecraft that loomed over the marketplace square as people scattered out of its way.

When the dust had finally settled and the ship had landed in the open clearing, the doors hissed open in a cloud of white steam. When the fog cleared, Yuuri was just able to see rows of white clad figures standing to attention inside the belly of the ship, faces covered and blasters held rigidly in their hands.

It was then that he ran, abandoning his task in favour of getting as far away from the ship as he possibly could. He knew the Imperial logo that was stamped on the side, recognised the blank masks of the stormtroopers that the ship contained. The Imperial propaganda that had filled the holonet ever since he had been a child was enough to ensure that. But the whispers of his parents in the dead of night about the truth of the Empire, treason to anyone who overhead, was enough to send fear spiking through his veins at the sight.

He hurried out of the marketplace as quickly as he could, darting unseen through the crowds. When he arrived home he locked the door, praying that the Imperial troops wouldn’t come knocking.

Hours later, his parents returned, faces drawn tight with worry.

‘It’s a rebel,’ they whispered to both him and Mari, eyes dark with concern. ‘The Imperials are saying they fled here after stealing something that belongs to the Empire. The stormtroopers are questioning everyone in town, trying to find them. They say it won’t be long now before they’re caught.”

Their voices were tinged with sadness as they spoke, heavy with the weight of their words. It was a familiar tone, the way his parents always sounded when they spoke about the Empire.

Yuuri knew that there had once been a time before, although it was almost too long ago for him to remember. A time before the Empire. His parents spoke about it in nothing but whispers, teaching him and Mari the history that their schools never dared speak of. The story of the Republic and just what had brought about its downfall. But the Empire ruled now, and nothing could change that.

Yuuri just hoped that the rebel, whoever they were, would be safe. Everyone knew what happened to people who crossed the Empire, although no-one ever spoke about it freely. Once someone disappeared into an Imperial shuttle, they were never seen again. Once the Empire had you in their clutches, they never let you go.

Hours later, when the sky was finally darkening, Yuuri went to bed still thinking about the mysterious rebel. And that night, he had a dream.

Yuuri had dreamed many times before in his life, but this one was different. Sharp and almost painful in its clarity, hooking itself into his mind and refusing to let go. The face of a boy flashed before his eyes. Older than him but still young, blue eyes filled with terror. Silver hair matted and face dusty as he darted into an empty alley, looking around wildly for a way to escape. The sounds of heavy boots hitting the earth echoed from all sides, the noise of a stormtrooper squadron approaching ringing out in the confined space. Shadows fell across the entrance to the alley as the patrol approached and the boy’s eyes widened in fear. The footsteps drew closer, louder, almost as loud as the pounding of Yuuri’s heart until suddenly…

He woke up, safe in his own bed and damp with sweat, trembling from the aftereffects of the dream.  

Yuuri considered the dream as he tried to force his shaky breathing to return to normal, with no idea what to make of it. He had never seen the boy before in his life, that much he was sure of. But the alleyway he had recognised, a place that he had passed hundreds of times before on his way to and from the market.

It was a strange dream, unlike anything that Yuuri had ever experienced before. He tried to dismiss it from his mind but it refused to let him go. As the suns rose the next day it was all that he could think about, no matter how many times he tried to tell himself that it was only a dream.

Eventually, he could contain his curiosity no longer. The strange clarity with which he’d dreamt meant that he needed to be sure, even if it was just to go to the alley and prove to himself that it had all been a figment of his imagination. Something was drawing him there, a pull from inside himself that wouldn’t be satisfied until he obeyed.

The streets were eerily quiet when Yuuri finally slipped outside, everyone hiding behind locked doors while the threat of the Imperial troops still lingered. The few people who were out hurried about their business quickly, eyes darting around the streets as they walked, shoulders tense and hunched.

Yuuri hurried quickly towards the marketplace, something tugging at his conscious and urging him on. When he finally got to the alleyway that had appeared in his dreams he stopped, looking at the empty street curiously. It was just as he remembered, dusty and completely empty. No sign of the strange silver haired boy in sight.

‘Of course not,’ he chided to himself, not sure why he had bothered to come looking in the first place. Dreams were just dreams after all.

Stepping into the alleyway, Yuuri wandered down it absentmindedly, trying to work out just what it was about the dream that had compelled him to come. Something about it had filled him with a sense of urgency but he couldn’t quite put his finger on what.

The alleyway was still silent and empty and Yuuri was just about to turn and leave when he heard it. The sound of hurried footsteps rapidly approaching, strangely loud in the abnormal quiet of the streets. Before Yuuri even had time to blink, a figure had rounded the mouth of the alley and darted down it, eyes wide and silver hair tangled around his face.

It was the boy from his dream.

Yuuri barely had time to register his shock before another sound reached his ears. The unmistakable stamp of stormtrooper boots, the noise a patrol approaching echoing down the street. The boy’s eyes were wild as they frantically searched the alleyway, looking for a way out. His face was exactly as Yuuri had dreamt it, down to the last detail.

The silver haired boy’s gaze finally locked on to where Yuuri stood. His piercing blue eyes widened in shock and his hand twitched by his side, a blaster clutched in his grip. When he saw Yuuri standing there however, he relaxed, clearly dismissing Yuuri as any kind of a threat.

The sound of the approaching footsteps grew louder and the boy threw Yuuri one last look, mounting fear clear in his eyes.

“If you want to stay safe, forget that you ever saw me,” he hissed, before darting off down the alley, stopping at a point where it branched off in several different directions. He paused for a few seconds, clearly lost, before beginning to start down the right-hand path.

“That’s a dead end,” Yuuri blurted out, before he could stop himself. The boy whipped around, surprise clear on his face. His expression was still panicked and his eyes darted to the entrance of the alleyway, clearly expecting the Imperial troops to appear at any moment.

“That road is a dead end,” Yuuri said again, more confident this time. If the silver haired boy was on the run from the stormtroopers, then there was only one person that he could be. And for a rebel, becoming trapped in the maze of Hasetsu’s back alleys was a sure-fire way of getting caught.

“If you want to leave here, you need to go left,” Yuuri continued, nodding to the correct path. Hasetsu city was a maze of interlocking streets that only the natives truly knew how to navigate. “Come on, I’ll show you.”

Without waiting for a response, he hurried to the right path, throwing a look over his shoulder to make sure that the boy was following him before darting down the new alley. Behind him, he could hear the sound of the stormtroopers growing louder and picked up his pace, cutting through the backstreets with practiced ease. The footsteps of the mysterious rebel followed him, staying close behind as Yuuri led the way.

It took several long minutes of navigating through the winding side streets and back alleys before Yuuri was confident that they were out of danger. It would take the stormtroopers hours to navigate the maze of interlocking pathways that they had just run through. When Yuuri was finally sure that they were safe, he turned around again, looking at the silvered haired boy with a curious eye.

He was dressed in study clothes, worn and a little shabby but practical all the same. His face wasn’t that much older than Yuuri’s, slightly round with the last traces of childhood still clinging on. But despite that, his eyes were hard and the blaster was still clutched tightly in his fingers, far from the weapon of a child.

“You’re the rebel, aren’t you?” Yuuri asked, knowing the truth of the statement before the question had even passed his lips. For some reason, the knowledge that he had just helped a wanted criminal didn’t fill him with fear, only a sense of strange relief. He still didn’t know quite how the silver haired boy had found his way into Yuuri’s dreams the night before but that was a question for another time.

“I am,” the boy replied, glancing over his shoulder, posture still tense. He relaxed slightly when no sign of the Imperial troops came, holstering his blaster and turning back to Yuuri again. “My name is Viktor. Thank you for helping me.”

“I’m Yuuri,” Yuuri replied, dipping his head in the traditional Hasetsu greeting. “What are you doing here?”

“I’m hiding,” Viktor replied, face falling as he spoke. “There was someone I needed to meet here, but the Empire got to them before I did. Now I just need to get back to my ship but there are stormtroopers everywhere and this city is a maze. If you hadn’t helped me lose them back then, they might have caught me.”

“I could help you get to your ship,” Yuuri offered but Viktor just shook his head.

“You’ve done enough,” he told Yuuri with a small smile. “I can’t ask you to put yourself in anymore danger.”

“But I want to help,” Yuuri insisted, not sure why it was so important for him to stay with the strange rebel boy but knowing in his heart that it was. Something had pulled them together and that same something was urging him to stay.

Viktor just shook his head, looking determined.

“You’re too young,” Viktor insisted. “If you want to help, go home and stay safe until the Imperials have left. I’ll be fine. I recognise this street, I can find my way from here.”

Yuuri opened his mouth to protest but Viktor just cut him off with a small smile.

“You have a good heart Yuuri,” he said, reaching out to lay his hand on Yuuri’s shoulder. “The Resistance needs good people like you. But for now, keep yourself safe. And maybe one day, we’ll meet again.”

With that Viktor turned away, silver hair glinting in the light as he darted down the nearest street. After a few steps he turned and looked back, flashing Yuuri one final look before turning the corner and disappearing. Yuuri stood there for a few more moments, feeling a strange emptiness as he watched him go.

It had been the strangest encounter, and a brief one too. But it was all Yuuri could think about as he made his way home, mind still firmly fixed on Viktor. A real rebel, the first he had ever met. There had been whispers for years that opposition to the Empire was growing. But now he had finally seen solid proof, in the form of a boy with silver hair and hardened eyes.  Only a few years older than Yuuri and already fighting the Empire that Yuuri’s parents so often talked about in fear.

When he arrived back home that night, Yuuri still couldn’t shake Viktor from his mind.

Hasetsu was peaceful, nothing had ever brought trouble before Viktor had arrived. But even then, a lingering sadness had always hung over the planet, a knowledge of what had been lost. In school, Yuuri had been taught nothing but the glory of the Empire and the peace it had brought to everyone who lived within its rule. But at home, his parents had whispered to him of the Republic, of a time before the crippling taxes and crushing rule of the Imperial forces had smothered the galaxy.

No-one dared fight it because the fear of the Empire was too great. The rebellion was only myth, whispered about in quiet corners where few could hear. But Yuuri had met a rebel, a real rebel. A rebel named Viktor. And Yuuri had helped him escape.

He still wasn’t sure what had compelled him to help Viktor, a stranger whose mere presence had put his own life in danger. All he knew was that he had looked into Viktor’s eyes and known that he had to do something. Yuuri had no love for the Empire and Viktor represented everything that stood against it. No matter how much danger it had put him in and how brief a time he had known Viktor for, deep in his heart, Yuuri knew for sure that helping him had been the right thing to do.

The next day, the news came in that the Imperial ships had left, chasing a small fighter leaving the planet and launching into hyperspace before they could be caught. When he heard the news, Yuuri couldn’t help but smile.

He had helped a rebel escape. He had fought back against the Empire. Viktor words still ran in his ears, filling him with a sense of pride. ‘The Resistance needs good people like you.’

‘One day,’ Yuuri thought to himself. ‘I’m going to join the Resistance. I’ll fight the Empire. I’m going to be a rebel, just like Viktor.’

4 BBY

“You too huh?” Phichit asked, sidling up silently behind Yuuri and making him drop his hydrospanner in surprise.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” Yuuri mumbled, bending down to picked up the dropped tool and trying desperately to hide the blush rapidly spreading across his face.

The other pilot nodded to where Viktor was sitting on his own x-wing, straddling the nose as he bent down to fiddle with some of the wires on a damaged section of panelling. The muggy heat of Yavin 4 had caused Viktor to strip down to the waist. His orange pilot overalls were tied loosely around his waist and the upper half of his body was covered with a mixture of dirt and engine grease. Completely bare except for the leather cord of a necklace at his throat, a single crystal gleaming on his chest.

“Don’t play innocent Katsuki, I could see who you were looking at,” Phichit said with a laugh, knocking his shoulder into Yuuri’s and causing his blush to deepen. It was true that he had been allowing himself the occasional surreptitious glance in Viktor’s direction as he tinkered with his own ship. But he hadn’t realised it had been quite so obvious that another member of the squadron could have noticed. 

“Don’t worry,” Phichit said with a casual shrug, patting Yuuri comfortingly on the shoulder. “Half of the base is in love with Commander Nikiforov.”

“Are you?” Yuuri asked in surprise, turning to look at the other man.

“Definitely not,” Phichit laughed, shaking his head and glancing over at Viktor with a fond smile. “But you wouldn’t be the first new pilot to fall for him.”

“I haven’t…” Yuuri began but the words trailed off as Phichit just looked at him with a raised eyebrow. The other pilot had been the first member of Silver Squadron that he had met, besides Viktor of course, and he had stuck by Yuuri’s side ever since. Showing him the ropes. Helping him navigate the hectic life of the Resistance base. Introducing him to the other members of the squadron that Yuuri would be flying alongside for the foreseeable future. With the amount of time that they had spent together, Phichit had already begun to recognise whenever Yuuri was lying.

“Don’t worry, I wont tell anyone,” Phichit reassured him. “But you might want to stop staring at him whenever he’s shirtless if you don’t want the rest of the base to know.”

The last part was said with a wink and Yuuri felt part of himself die a little inside with the flood of embarrassment that it brought.

“I admire him, that’s all,” Yuuri insisted. It was partly true at least.

After their first brief meeting, Yuuri had wanted nothing more than to see Viktor again. He had been everything that Yuuri admired and aspired to be. Bold and confident. Fighting against the Empire that had spread so much misery and suffering across the galaxy. Yuuri had always known deep down that he wanted to do something to fight the darkness that held the galaxy in its grip, but meeting Viktor had given him the push that he needed.

He had admired Viktor for all those years, as he trained and searched and fought his way into the heart of the rebellion. And now he was here, flying by Viktor’s side.

But he couldn’t deny that admiration wasn’t the only thing that he was feeling for Viktor now. The other man was strict and unrelenting, drilling his squadron mercilessly until they were perfect. But he was also kind and charming and whenever he smiled, it sent a little thrill of joy coursing through Yuuri. He spoke to Yuuri as an equal, dining with him in the mess hall, helping him navigate the layout of the unfamiliar x-wing. Joking with Yuuri with ease and discussing tactics together over hot cups of caf.

Yuuri might have only been on Yavin 4 for a few weeks, but he could already feel himself falling.

Apparently, just like everybody else.

“Well, I’ll let you get back to ‘admiring’ him then,” Phichit grinning, his gaze flickering over to where Viktor was still sitting shirtless on his x-wing, pushing his sweaty hair out of his face as he worked. “And don’t worry, he’d probably be flattered if he knew.”

With that, the other pilot sauntered away, leaving Yuuri spluttering in his wake.

Yuuri was dreaming again, the scene before him bright and sharp, almost painful in its clarity.

Fireworks exploded in the sky, red and gold sparks raining down on the spires of a city’s towering buildings. Below in the street, the stamp and scream of hundreds of thousands of beings celebrating in unison echoed, victory spilling from every set of lips.

Yuuri saw it all, filled with confusion as he took in the scene before him.

A victory. But for who?

4 BBY

Chris groaned as he hit the training mat, Viktor pinning his arms behind his back as he held him down. The other members of the squadron winced as Viktor pushed Chris further into the ground, only relenting when Chris finally tapped out with a put-upon sigh.

“Alright, who’s next?” Viktor asked the group at large. The entire squadron took a collective step back.

“As the newest pilot, it seems only fair that Katsuki is the next to partake in this training exercise,” Seung-gil pointed out, as Yuuri shot him a look of deepest betrayal.

“Sorry newbie,” Sara muttered, pushing Yuuri forward slightly as the rest of the squadron nodded in unison.  “But everyone has to get their ass kicked by Commander Nikiforov during hand-to-hand training at least once. It’s practically tradition.”

“Yuuri?” Viktor asked, gesturing to the mats. Yuuri took a deep breath and stepped forward, ignoring Phichit’s exaggerated wink as he went.

Most of the training and drills he had gone through with his new squadron since he had arrived on Yavin 4 a few standard weeks ago had been ship based, and Yuuri had assumed that it would stay that way. But the night before, Phichit had informed him that Commander Nikiforov scheduled regular hand-to-hand training with his team, insisting that they never knew when the skills could save their lives. Yuuri had hoped beyond hope that he would be allowed to simply partner up with Phichit and run a few exercises but it seemed the galaxy was not that kind.

“How much close quarters combat training do you have Yuuri?” Viktor asked, rolling his shoulders and beckoning Yuuri closer. Viktor’s hair was plastered to his face with sweat and the white training shirt he was wearing was almost see through. It did nothing to help Yuuri’s current predicament.

“Some,” Yuuri shrugged, trying desperately to ignore the wolf-whistle that he was sure came from Chris behind him. Instead, he focused on the crystal swinging on the end of the cord around Viktor’s neck, something that Viktor never seemed to take off. Trying not to look at Viktor’s face seemed like the only way that Yuuri was going to get through the exercise with minimum embarrassment. 

“I’ll go easy on you then,” Viktor grinned and Yuuri felt himself suddenly bristle at the statement, all previous embarrassment dropping away. Most pilots had very few hand to hand combat skills, relying on their x-wings or blasters during fights. But Yuuri had learned under Minako and she had made sure to kick him from one end of the training hall to the other until he could hold his own against the best of them.

‘You pilots might spend you lives with your heads in the clouds,’ she had warned him. ‘But if the Empire catches you, your flying skills aren’t going to save you. You learn how to fight, or you die Yuuri. Remember that.’

Yuuri wasn’t going to go down without a fight. And he was determined to make Viktor regret any thought of going easy.

He and Viktor circled each other for a few seconds, watching each other warily. Viktor still had the tiniest hint of a smile on his face, clearly expecting a quick fight.

After a few more step, Viktor darted forward, swiping at Yuuri’s side. Yuuri dodged the strike easily, dancing away before Viktor could get close.

“You have good reflexes,” Viktor commented, sounding slightly impressed. He darted forward again, looking to pull Yuuri into an easy takedown but Yuuri ducked quickly under his outstretched arm and spun away again.

There was an approving murmur from the other pilots watching and Viktor’s eyes narrowed. When he stepped forward for the third time, he had dropped the casual demeanour, now looking entirely focused. His next few blows were lighting fast, not designed to hurt but enough to put Yuuri on the ground. Yuuri blocked them as quickly as he could, feeling the impact reverberate up his arms and dodging the swipe to his legs that would have sent him sprawling.

Despite his earlier worries, he was beginning to enjoy himself, pushing back with a few more blows of his own. The gleeful light in Viktor’s eyes showed that the sentiment was returned wholeheartedly and he grinned at Yuuri as he dropped low, leg darting out and hooking Yuuri around the ankles, sending him tumbling to the mats with a crash.

Determined not to be taken out of the fight so easily, Yuuri flipped himself back up onto his feet before Viktor had the chance to press his advantage, backing away as he fell back into a fighting stance.

They continued to trade blows, ducking and weaving around each other as they fought. Viktor was good, his fighting style quick and efficient, pushing Yuuri back relentlessly. But the longer the fight continued, the more Yuuri could see him starting to tire. His strikes had less force behind them, Yuuri parrying them easily. Tiny gaps began to appear in his defence, Yuuri’s stamina wearing him down as the fight continued.

Finally, Yuuri struck. Ducking one of Viktor’s blows, he grabbed the other man by the waist and flipped him, slamming him into the mats. With Viktor distracted as the air was driven from his lungs, Yuuri moved to pin him down. His hands locked with Viktor’s own as he forced them into the mat, his legs tightening around Viktor’s hips as he kept him pinned there.

For a moment there was silence, both of them breathing heavily, the thrill of victory coursing through Yuuri’s veins. Viktor started up at Yuuri, pupils blown wide as Yuuri held him down. Then his face broke out into a smile as he tapped Yuuri’s hand twice, conceding the match.

“I’m impressed,” Viktor said, still gazing up at Yuuri as Yuuri’s brain finally registered just what was going on.

“Sorry Commander!” he yelped, jumping up and offering Viktor a hand, pulling him to his feet. Viktor just took it with a laugh, waving away Yuuri’s apology.

“Don’t be,” he told Yuuri, still looking impressed. “This training is supposed to help us all improve, me included. And I haven’t had a fight like that in a long time. Who taught you?”

“Commander Okukawa,” Yuuri replied, trying to fight down the rising heat in his cheeks as he heard the whispers and stifled laughter of the rest of the squadron behind him.

“She certainly trained you well,” Viktor commented, gaze still fixed on Yuuri. “You could teach me a thing or two.”

“I bet he could,” Yuuri heard Chris mutter from behind him, which did nothing to cure the blush still burning in his cheeks.

“Thank you, Commander,” Yuuri replied, hoping that his voice remained calmer than he felt.

“There’s no need to be so formal,” Viktor told him, offering Yuuri his hand to shake, signalling the end of a fight well done. “I’ve never liked titles anyway. Call me Viktor.” 

Bright flashes of fireworks in the sky. The cheering of a crowd, hundreds of thousands of bodies pressed together as they celebrated. The spires of the Imperial Palace stretched up into the sky, towering over it all.

Coruscant, the city at the heart of the Empire. Yuuri had never seen it in person before, only through fuzzy holos and yet here he was, in the midst of a celebration that lit up the night with colour and joy. A dream so clear it almost felt real.

‘But’, Yuuri wondered, confusion and trepidation coursing through his veins. ‘A celebration for what?’

4 BBY

“Silver Squadron, check in,” Viktor’s voice crackled over the commlink as other pilots fell into formation behind him, the planet falling away below them as the soared up into the blackness of space.

“Silver two, standing by,” Chris voice spoke into Yuuri’s headset, sounding bored.

“Silver three, standing by,” Georgi’s voice echoed, the rest of the squadron checking in behind him.

“Silver six, standing by,” Yuuri repeated into his own headset when his turn came, wincing slightly at the pause on the airwaves after he spoke, before Mila finally chipped in with ‘Silver seven, standing by.’

In the short time that he had been flying with them, Silver Squadron had already accepted him easily as one of their own. The cramped dorm room that he shared with Phichit already felt like home and mealtimes were always filled with friendly jokes and laughter as the team ate together. But there was still the obvious pause when Yuuri’s callsign came up, all of them keenly aware of what had been lost.

It was the nature of the Resistance, that a new pilot was always brought in to replace what had been lost. Yuuri had been no exception, only added onto Viktor’s team because there had been a place that needed filling. It had taken Yuuri several weeks to hear the name ‘Cao Bin’ but he had known immediately who he must have been, and why the rest of them team always sounded subdued when they heard the name ‘Silver six’ spoken in Yuuri’s voice.

‘We all lose people,’ Phichit had shrugged when Yuuri had asked him about it, although his stoic expression did little to hide his sadness. ‘But we keep going. There’s still a war to fight after all.’

“Let’s make this quick,” Viktor’s voice spoke again into his headset, jolting Yuuri out of his musings. “This is supposed to just be a basic cargo run. We’re not expecting trouble.”

“Copy that, Silver leader,” Chris replied, a confirmation that was echoed from all the rest.

When Yuuri glanced to the side, he could just about make out Phichit sitting in his own cockpit, staring intently at the controls while his astromech beeped intently behind him.

Yuuri’s own droid sent out a little hum, the hyperdrive calculations flashing up on Yuuri’s screen as it prepared for the jump to hyperspace. Effective as his new droid was, Yuuri still couldn’t help but miss his old droid desperately. V1-CN, who had served him faithfully ever since he had first joined the Resistance. But V1-CN had been destroyed mere days before Yuuri had been assigned to Silver Squadron and he had had to make do with a temporary astromech ever since. 

“Prepare to jump,” Viktor’s voice warned him and Yuuri punched the controls, watching the other ships vanish in flashes of light before the familiar blur took over his own viewscreen and the galaxy disappeared around him.

The familiar hum of hyperspace was comforting, the stars streaking past in a silvery-blue haze too fast for the eye to see. Yuuri almost relaxed as he flew towards his destination, hitting the buttons to bring himself out of hyperspace when it was time with practiced ease.

Yuuri had expected to exit hyperspace surrounded by his squadron. He hadn’t expected to fly straight into a warzone.

The shriek of a TIE fighter overhead had him grabbing for the controls, slamming his x-wing into a spin to avoid the bouts of laser fire flying at him from every direction. Panicked shouts assaulted his ears from every side through his commlink, the rest of his teammates frantically dodging and weaving to avoid the enemy fighters that had seemingly appeared from no-where.

“They knew we were coming,” Viktor shouted into his headset, voice calm but with a clear undercurrent of panic. “We need to protect the cargo freighters. Get these fighters out of the sky.”

Yuuri glanced at his targeting computer, dodging another blast of laser fire and sending a bout of his own at the nearest TIE fighter. The orange beams caught the other ship full on and Yuuri watched as it exploded in front of him, torn apart by the direct hit.

“Nice shot silver six,” Chris’ voice cracked over the comms and Yuuri saw his x-wing shoot past, hot on the tail of another TIE fighter.

The rest of the battle turned into a blur of hastily shouted commands and frantic dodging and spinning as Yuuri weaved his way through the battlefield. An endless stream of TIE fighters seemed to surround them, more pouring from the star destroyer looming ominously in the distance.

Yuuri flew almost on automatic, chasing down fighters and avoiding laserfire with barely a thought. The adrenaline burning in his veins wiped everything from his mind but the need to fight and defend and instinct took over, as it had numerous battles before. For a few minutes he flew side by side with Phichit, trapping TIE fighters between them and watching each other’s backs as the battle progressed.

Then it happened.

A sudden fear rushed through Yuuri, chilling him straight down to the core. It hit him out of no-where, a sickening feeling twisting in his gut until he could hardly breathe. Without understanding why, Yuuri turned, as if an invisible force was pulling him towards some unknown destination.

Viktor’s ship appeared on his viewscreen, manoeuvring swiftly through the battlefield as he took out fighter after fighter. But a flicker of movement from above him had Yuuri darting his gaze up, registering the two fighters descending unnoticed on Viktor’s ship in a fraction of a second.

“Viktor, LOOK OUT,” he yelled, forgetting to even use callsigns in the terror of the moment. Viktor hadn’t seen the two fighters and they had him in their line of fire, preparing to shoot.

Viktor’s ship dived at his warning, but it still wasn’t enough. Yuuri could almost sense the black gloved fingers curling on the triggers of the TIE fighters, preparing to shoot Viktor out of the sky. Jerking his own controls around he fired, not even bothering to look at his targeting computer. Something in him told him that his aim was true without its guidance and, sure enough, the two fighters exploded in front of him, caught in the fire from Yuuri’s ship.

Yuuri let out a shuddering breath of relief, watching as Viktor’s ship swooped away, its occupant unharmed.

The rest of the battle passed by quickly, the freighters they were protecting finally clearing the planet below and jumping to hyperspace under the protective fire of the x-wings. As soon as they were safe, Viktor ordered them away, fleeing from the hulking menace of the star destroyer by the skin of their teeth.

One of the cargo ships had been lost in the chaos but Yuuri could only be grateful that it wasn’t more. When it came to the Empire, just escaping alive was victory enough.

When they arrived back on Yavin 4, his legs shook under him when he stumbled out of his cockpit, the adrenaline crash that always followed every battle finally hitting him. The rest of his squadron were exiting their ships too, all looking shaken. While they had all seen battle before, none of them had been expecting one that day.

“Yuuri,” came a voice from behind him and Yuuri spun around, wobbling slightly as he did so. Viktor was standing behind him, looking at Yuuri with a strange light in his eyes.

“Commander,” Yuuri said automatically, attempting to straighten to attention.

“Yuuri, how many times have I told you to call me Viktor,” Viktor told him, expression softening as he looked at Yuuri fondly.

“Sorry, Viktor,” Yuuri tried again, trying to ignore the slight fluttering in his chest at the sight.

“You saved my life,” Viktor continued, eyes still fixed on Yuuri.

“You would do the same for any of us,” Yuuri pointed out. He still wasn’t quite sure what had happened back during the battle. The terror that had preceded him spotting Viktor in danger wasn’t something that he could explain, even to himself.

“Still,” Viktor replied, reaching out to clasp Yuuri’s shoulder, his hand warm on Yuuri’s skin. “Thank you, Yuuri.”

Yuuri could always tell that he was dreaming as the fireworks burst overhead, illuminating the Coruscanti sky. The dream had a strange sharpness to it, far more clarity that any normal dream. But it was still a dream, and a strangely familiar one at that.

Crowds of revellers swept past him, dancing and singing and cheering in the street as ships roared overhead, dipping in and out of the coloured sparks falling from the sky.

“WE WON” someone screamed in Basic from behind him, voice filled with glee.

Yuuri turned, looking for the speaker but the dream faded away before he had the chance to look, leaving only the cry of victory echoing in his ears.

“Who won,” he wondered as blackness overcame him again. “Who?”

4 BBY

“Viktor’s been awful friendly with you recently,” Phichit said with a smirk, nudging Yuuri as the two of them walked through the halls of the base together. They had just come back from another training exercise and both of them were covered in grim and dirt, wanting nothing more than to get back to their quarters and sleep.

“What?” Yuuri asked absentmindedly, most of his mind still focused on the sonic showers and clean sheets waiting for him.

“Viktor?” Phichit asked in exasperation. “Our wing commander? Tall? Silver hair? Dreamy eyes? The one you’ve been mooning after these past few months? Remember him?”

“Phichit,” Yuuri hissed, rounding on his friend and motioning for him to keep his voice down.

“Oh please Yuuri, you don’t need to keep this quiet,” Phichit told him with a roll of his eyes. “Neither of you are subtle. Viktor literally couldn’t take his eyes off you on our last mission and everyone’s noticed it.”

“He has been spending more time with me than usual,” Yuuri conceded, still trying to keep his voice hushed in the bustling halls of the base. Ever since he had saved Viktor’s life on that mission a couple of months ago, Viktor had seldom seemed to leave his side. Not that Yuuri was complaining in the slightest. “But…”

“Listen Yuuri,” Phichit cut him off, looking serious. “No-one is going to reprimand either of you for this if you decide to go for it. Love is a rare enough thing as it is, and we’re at war. You have to hold onto what you can while you still have it, because you never know when it’s going to be taken away.”

Yuuri fell silent at that, thinking. In the time that he had spent at the base, he and Viktor had only grown closer. From respect to easy camaraderie and friendship to something…more. Almost every waking minute he spent by Viktor’s side. Training together, fixing their x-wings together, sipping cups of caf in the mess hall together, talking late into the night. Even Viktor’s droid, MAK-C1N, had taken to rolling after Yuuri around the halls, beeping softly.

“The entire squadron has credits riding on when the two of you are finally going to get together you know,” Phichit added conversationally and Yuuri almost tripped over his own feet, shooting Phichit a startled look.

“Do you?” he asked, not sure whether to be offended or not at this new information.

“Nope,” Phichit grinned at him. “I’m running the betting pool.”

Phichit laughed as he dodged out of the way of Yuuri’s swipe, grinning all the while.

“You still love me really,” he snorted as Yuuri shot him a look of betrayal.

Yuuri had to agree. He still locked Phichit out of the showers in revenge regardless.

It was the same dream, over and over again. Fireworks exploding in the sky. A celebration stretching out as far as they eye could see, hundreds of thousands of beings cheering in the streets. Too sharp and clear to be just a normal dream but still unclear, like a single piece of a puzzle when the whole picture was still a mystery.

‘What does this mean?’ Yuuri almost wanted to scream but he knew that no-one would hear him. And so he waited in silence, watching the celebrating crowds and wondering.

The cheering continued.

3 BBY

Yuuri stumbled as his feet hit the ground, wincing as the movement tugged at the blaster wound on his thigh. Crowds of resistance fighters were crowded around his battered ship, all staring at him with wide eyes as he staggered out of the cockpit.

Yuuri’s legs almost gave out from beneath him at the sight. The sweet taste of the clean air of Yavin 4 felt like heaven and the feeling of safety almost brought him to his knees.

Something slammed into his side, knocking all of the air out of him as strong arms wrapped him into a crushing hug.

“Yuuri,” Phichit breathed, voice choked with emotion. “We all thought that you were dead.”

Yuuri brought his hands up to clutch at Phichit’s back, breath shuddering out of him at the feeling of being home. For days he had been running on nothing but fear and adrenaline, ever since he had been separated from his team and shot down over Nal Hutta.

“We searched for you everywhere,” Phichit continued, pulling back to look at Yuuri with eyes filled with relief. “Viktor never gave up, not once. But we couldn’t find any trace of you and…”

A commotion rippled through the crowds, people parting like water as a silver-haired figured pushed his way through. Viktor carved out a path for himself as he dashed towards Yuuri, a wild light in his eyes.

“Viktor…” Yuuri began but the rest of his sentence was cut off as Viktor crashed into him, hands grasping desperately at Yuuri’s skin.

Then Viktor was kissing him, the feeling all consuming as Yuuri’s melted into his arms.

Yuuri’s back hit the side of the ship that he had stolen, Viktor pressing him into the metal as they continued to kiss. Everything else melted away and Yuuri could focus on nothing but the feeling of Viktor’s lips against his and the desperation in his touch.

“I thought that I’d lost you,” Viktor murmured when they finally broke apart, pressing the words into Yuuri’s skin where his face was buried in Yuuri’s neck. “I thought…”

“I’m here,” Yuuri whispered, threading his fingers through Viktor’s hair and feeling his heart swell with emotion.

Viktor pulled away and Yuuri could see the tears welling in his eyes, relief and happiness clear on his face. He gazed at Yuuri with something close to awe in his expression, eyes fixed on Yuuri as if trying to memorize his face.

“Stay close to me,” Viktor breathed, still holding Yuuri close. “Please never leave again. When you were missing I…I…”

His voice choked up and Yuuri pulled him into another kiss, uncaring of the crowds still surrounding them. There had been times when he thought that he wouldn’t make it home, when the terror of his situation had almost overwhelmed him. And during those times, he had thought of Viktor.

“I won’t,” Yuuri promised, mouthing the words against Viktor’s lips. “I won’t.”

It wasn’t a promise that he could make. It wasn’t a promise that any of them could make, not while they were fighting a war with no end in sight. Not when they might very well be on the losing side. But with Viktor in his arms, Yuuri promised anyway.

He never wanted to leave Viktor’s side again.

It was the same dream as always, the fireworks, the crowds, the celebrating. Yuuri looked around, the incessant questions still burning in his mind. Everywhere around him he was surrounded by people, hundreds of different species all packed together on the Coruscanti streets. Every colour imaginable, blues and reds and purples and greens.

A flash of silver.

Yuuri spun around, following the silvered haired figure with his eyes, feeling elation rush through him at the sight.

It was Viktor. 

3 BBY

“Yuuri, I want you to have this,” Viktor murmured into the silence of the night, his legs tangled with Yuuri as they lay on the bed together.

As Yuuri watched, Viktor unhooked the leather cord he carried around his neck, the single crystal hanging at the end of the necklace gleaming even in the darkness.

“Viktor, I can’t…” Yuuri began to protest but Viktor cut him off with a quick kiss, pressing the necklace into his hand and curling Yuuri’s fingers shut around it.

“Remember how I told you that Yakov gave it to me to keep me safe, before he died?” Viktor asked him, voice still hushed and low as he gazed at Yuuri.

Yuuri could never forget. He had never seen Viktor without the necklace, a constant fixture strung loosely around his neck. Viktor had confessed to him that his mentor had been gifted the kyber crystal on a visit to Jedha, long before the Empire had begun to strip the planet for its resources. Yakov had told him that it would grant him luck, keep him protected from the evils of the galaxy.

Yuuri was a little dubious on that point. The last notable people to carry kyber crystals had been the Jedi, and the gems had done nothing to protect them from their fate. But Viktor was the luckiest pilot in the entire Resistance, his ship returning time and time again with barely a scratch, so Yuuri couldn’t help but hope that there might be some truth to the belief.

“I want you to have it,” Viktor continued, eyes pleading. “I want you to be safe. More than I care about my own life, more than I care about anything. Please Yuuri, take it. For me.”

There was a desperation in Viktor’s voice that Yuuri couldn’t bear to refuse. Uncurling his fingers from around the crystal, Yuuri slipped the leather cord over his head, feeling the weight of the stone come to rest in the centre of his chest. It was still warm, the last remnants of Viktor’s body heat still clinging to the gleaming surface.

Viktor smiled softly, leaning over to press a light kiss to the place where the crystal lay against his skin, then another over Yuuri’s heart.

“I’ve spent my whole life fighting,” Viktor whispered, eyes fixed on Yuuri’s face. “For peace, for the Rebellion. And I don’t regret any of it. But then I met you, and I finally understood what it was that I was fighting for.”

Viktor reached up, running a gentle finger down Yuuri’s cheek, leaving trails of heat wherever he touched.

“Love,” Viktor murmured softly. “Life. Freedom. You’re everything that’s good about this galaxy Yuuri. You’re everything that’s worth fighting for. I’ll give my life to this war if I have to, but my heart and soul will always belong to you.”

“And mine to you,” Yuuri replied, taking Viktor’s hand in his and bringing it up to his lips, pressing a gentle kiss to the knuckle there. “They always will.”

Viktor was surrounded by the heaving crowds, hemmed in from every side but he wasn’t moving. Instead, he was gazing up at the sky, the lights of the fireworks dancing in his eyes as he stared up at the stars.

Yuuri wanted to call to him but he found that he couldn’t speak, allowed only to watch as he dreamed on.

The crowd pushed and shoved, dancing and leaping in the streets as the celebrations continued. Viktor remained motionless, still staring at the sky.

3 BBY

“I don’t understand why you won’t let me join,” Yuri raged, glaring at Viktor angrily as they faced off against each other.

“You’re too young,” Viktor snapped back, arms crossed as he towered over the smaller cadet.

Yuri Plisetsky was famous on the base for his fiery attitude and his dogged determination to be allowed to fly with the other pilots. With the best simulation scores of anyone his age, and of many people beyond it, it was clear that one day he would make a fearsome pilot. But at only fifteen standard years, there wasn’t a squadron in the entire Resistance that would allow him to fly with them, even if the higher ups hadn’t vetoed it. They were fighting a war but they weren’t fighting it with children.

“I’m not too young,” Yuri growled back, frustration clear in his every word. “Some of the Jedi were sending their Padawans into battle at fourteen during the Clone Wars, and no-one was complaining then. So why wont you let me join?”  

“The Jedi are dead,” Viktor snapped, words sharp and cutting. “And their Padawans along with them.”

Yuri looked like he was about to protest but Viktor cut him off, tone final.

“I am not going to approve you joining my team and neither are the other commanders.” He said, voice hard. “And if you have any sense, you’ll hope that this war ends long before you’re old enough to fight.”

Yuri growled in frustration, kicking angrily at the ground beneath his feet before storming off, pushing through the crowds of people milling around them as he did so. Viktor just sighed, running a hand down his face before turning back to Yuuri, looking weary.

“He doesn’t understand,” Viktor said, and Yuuri could see the bone deep exhaustion in his eyes. Years of fighting with seemingly no end had weighed on them all, but Viktor most of all.

“He still thinks that all this is glorious,” Viktor continued, reaching out to thread his fingers through Yuuri’s. Yuuri squeezed his fingers lightly, reassuring Viktor with the touch.

“He’s young,” Yuuri pointed out as they began to walk away together, falling into step side by side. “We were both the same when we were his age, were we not?” 

“And now we’ve grown up,” Viktor sighed, stopping outside the door of their shared quarters. “It’s worth it, all of it. But we fight every day knowing that it might be our last. I watch you get into that cockpit and every single time I wonder if it’s going to be the last time I ever see your face. I send pilots into battle and know that some of them are never going to come home. I don’t wish that on anyone, especially not a child.”

“That’s why we fight,” Yuuri pointed out, leaning up to press a soft kiss to Viktor’s forehead. “So that people like him will never have to.”

Viktor’s eyes were fixed on the stars, irises lighting up as each new firework exploded overhead. A group of humanoids pushed past him, laughing joyously as they went. In the next burst of illumination from above them, Yuuri could see the uniform that they wore, lit up for all to see. The proud logo of the Alliance stood out on their jackets and the cries of victory were loud on their lips.

Rebels.

Rebels celebrating in the streets of Coruscant, under the shadow of the Imperial Palace itself. It could only mean one thing, something that made Yuuri’s heart leap in joy at the thought.

Viktor stood in the midst of it all, unmoving as he stared at the stars.

2 BBY

Yuuri glanced out of the transparisteel of his x-wing, watching as the other members of his squadron soared past. Their missions had become more and more frequent as the years had gone on and the danger had mounted with each one. The grasping claws of the Empire were stretching further and further out into the galaxy and the chokehold it had on the core and mid-rim was slowly getting tighter, squeezing the life out of all who lived there. Never had the Rebellion been more vital, or more dangerous.

Every time his squadron were sent out again, the unspoken fear always hung in the air between them, silent and oppressive. The fear that this time, it would be them who had finally been sent out on their last mission. Them who would be lost forever in the darkness of space as the Empire closed in around them. Their possessions that would be burned on pyres in the absence of a body, as the other Resistance members mourned and continued fighting.

It would never be Viktor though. Yuuri was sure of that.

For years, he had been dreaming the same dream, over and over again. Slight variations each time but the main focus always remained the same. The celebrations. The cries of victory. Viktor. Alive and safe at the end of the war.

For years he had dismissed it as just a dream. He was no Jedi, he knew nothing of the Force. He had no mystical powers, no great wisdom of the universe. He was just another dime-a-dozen resistance pilot with regular dreams, just like everyone else. The strange one he had had the night before he had met Viktor he had always just put down as a fluke. But the more the years had passed and the dream of victory had continued, the more Yuuri had begun to believe that maybe there was far more to it than just that.

It was as if the universe was trying to tell him something, to reassure him that Viktor would be safe. That the war would end with victory on their side. Yuuri still wasn’t quite sure if he believed it. After all, it could just be a fantasy, a creation conjured up by his own mind. Why else would he dream over and over again of the one thing he wished for most in the galaxy? But he wanted to believe, with a bone deep longing that was almost a physical ache.

Reaching up absentmindedly as he thought, Yuuri brushed his fingers lightly across the crystal still hanging around his neck, now a permanent fixture in his life. The crystal hummed back happily to him, a faint warmth emitting from it that never seemed to fade.

Viktor’s voice crackled over his commlink, calling for the squadron to fall into formation. Yuuri dropped his hand from his neck, flicking the controls and easing his x-wing into the spot next to Phichit. In front of him, Viktor’s x-wing soared, MAK-C1N’s head swivelling around behind the cockpit as the little droid relayed the squadron’s information to his owner. Viktor himself was blocked from view but Yuuri could almost feel him there, a comforting presence guiding them through even the darkest of nights.

Yuuri wasn’t sure if he believed in his dreams, or in the Force. But he knew one thing for sure. He would always believe in Viktor.

It was the same dream as always, fireworks lighting up the sky as hundreds of thousands of beings celebrated on the streets below. And in the midst of it all stood Viktor’s, eyes fixed on the stars.

Yuuri had seen the same scene hundreds of times before, every tiny detail familiar in his mind. But one thing stood out above all the rest, something that he couldn’t shake from his mind as he watched the scene play out before him all over again.

Viktor stood, in the midst of the victory celebrations. But Yuuri wasn’t standing by his side.

1 BBY

“There’s Hasetsu,” Yuuri murmured, pointing up at the sky and the tiny ball of light that signalled his home.

He and Viktor were lying on the roof of one of the crumbling ruins that surrounded the base, a place that Viktor had taken him to many times before. The moss covering the ancient structure was damp against their backs but neither of them paid it any mind, too busy staring up at the stars.

“I’d love to go there again someday,” Viktor replied, a contented smile on his lips as he turned to look at Yuuri. The night was cool and sharp but the heat radiating from Viktor’s body was enough that Yuuri almost felt warm. It was peaceful lying there with Viktor, peaceful and relaxing and perfect.

“I didn’t get to see much of it the last time I visited,” Viktor added with a laugh, expression fond at the memory.

“There’s not that much to see,” Yuuri admitted. “Hasetsu is small, not like some of the planets that you’ve visited. After the crystal towers of Christophsis or the jungles of Felucia, you’ll probably find it boring.”

“How could it be boring if you’re there with me?” Viktor said softly, a warm smile still clear on his face as he looked at Yuuri. “We can go there after the war, once all of this is finally over. Once we finally have the chance to live a normal life together.”

“I’d like that,” Yuuri replied, reaching out a hand to lace his fingers with Viktor’s own as they both turned their gazes back up to the stars.

Privately, Yuuri had no idea if there would even be an after the war for him. Every night when he closed his eyes, he dreamed of victory and Viktor standing amongst the cheering crowds. But Viktor was alone. There was no Yuuri standing by his side.

Yuuri didn’t know how the dreams worked, or if they were even true at all. If Viktor was truly alone or if Yuuri himself was standing just behind him, as he was every night in his dreams. If he was seeing through the eyes of his future self, alive and well as he watched their victory unfold. Or if he was nothing but a ghostly observer, watching as Viktor stood alone.

 It was one of the reasons that he had never told Viktor about his dreams. Viktor would only worry, wouldn’t be comforted by the news of his survival like Yuuri was. His only concern would be knowing if Yuuri shared that future with him and that was a question to which Yuuri had no answer.

The fear for Yuuri that knowledge of the dreams would bring would make Viktor reckless, determined to do whatever it took to keep Yuuri safe. Yuuri wasn’t willing to put Viktor’s life at risk, not for anything. Especially not for a dream.

He wasn’t even sure if the dreams were real, or just his own mind dealing with the war by tricking itself into believing that Viktor would be safe. That the Alliance would win. The two things Yuuri wanted above all others.

But if his dream ever did truly come to pass, Yuuri wanted to believe that he would be there to see it. That he was standing just behind Viktor, just out of sight in the scene that came to him every night. That Viktor’s gaze would turn from the stars at the sound of Yuuri’s approach, that his face would break into a smile at the sight. That he would grab Yuuri in his arms and spin him while they laughed. That he would kiss Yuuri like he never wanted to let go, as they celebrated their victory together.

The dream always ended before Yuuri could find out if it was the truth, or nothing more than fantasy. But that didn’t stop him hoping. He would happily give his life to the cause, the dream of peace that he and Viktor and all the other members of the Resistance fought for. But his heart had always belonged to Viktor, and Yuuri couldn’t stand the thought of leaving him alone.

“We should go travelling once the war is over,” Viktor added after a few more minutes of silence, hand raised and finger lazily tracing patterns in the stars. “Before we settle down in Hasetsu. We’ve seen so much of the galaxy together but we’ve always been fighting. All we see is rubble and ruin and children crying in the streets, or people terrified every day of the Empire watching over them all. They say the galaxy used to be beautiful and I want to see it like that again someday, with you.”

“I’ll follow you wherever you go,” Yuuri told him, the fingers of Viktor’s free hand still twined together with his. “I’ll always be happy as long as I’m with you.” 

“Then it’s settled then,” Viktor grinned. When Yuuri looked at him, the pinpricks of light of each of the thousands of stars were reflected in Viktor’s eyes as he gazed up at the vast expanse of the universe above them.

“When the war is over, let’s go and see the stars.”

Viktor was standing in the midst of the crowd as he always was, alone as people danced and cheered all around him. Yuuri wanted to reach out, to touch him, but in the dream he was frozen in place, forced only to observe.

‘Please turn around,’ he silently begged Viktor, hoping beyond hope that the fantasy he had imagined turned out to be true. That he was here, watching through the eyes of his future self. That he was more than just a ghost. That Viktor would turn around and see Yuuri standing behind him and they would celebrate their victory together.

‘Please let me be standing here behind you, just waiting for you to look’ Yuuri begged, although no words left his mouth. ‘Please let me be in this future with you. Please don’t let me have left you alone.’

Viktor was safe, that was what mattered most of all. Any future was bright if Viktor was in it and Yuuri would give everything to ensure that it happened, even his life. But he had promised Viktor that he would stay close to him. That he would never leave again.

If this truly was the future that he was seeing, knowing that Viktor survived filled Yuuri with a joy that he could scarcely describe. All he could wish for now was that he hadn’t broken his promise.

0 BBY

“We have another mission,” Viktor called to the assembled pilots, who all scrambled to attention at his words. “We’re being sent to the Anoat sector, to scout out potential planets to hold another rebel base. Get ready quickly because we’ll be leaving tomorrow.”

Viktor nodded and the rest of the squadron began to disperse at the informal dismissal. Yuuri stayed still, watching as Viktor made his way over where Yuuri was standing.

“Why are we being sent to look for locations for a new base?” Yuuri asked, keeping his voice hushed in the noise of the hanger. “Has something happened?”

“Yavin 4 hasn’t been compromised, if that’s what you’re worried about,” Viktor replied, although Yuuri could tell that something was still weighing on his mind. “But the generals are getting worried. Every day the Empire gets closer and we need somewhere to run if they somehow find us.”

Viktor sighed, running a hand down his face.

“The Empire just keeps getting stronger,” Viktor continued, and Yuuri could see the tension in his shoulders as he spoke. “I wont ever stop fighting, I know none of us will. But we lose more and more people every day and the Empire never stops. I just…”

Viktor trailed off and Yuuri reached up, taking Viktor’s face in his hands. In all the years that Yuuri had known him, Viktor had never faltered. Had never shown any sign of believing that they might not be on the winning side. It was what made him such a good leader. What made his entire squadron willing to follow him to the end. But the weight of the war got to everyone in the end.

Viktor tilted his face into Yuuri’s touch, a small smile flickering across his lips at the feeling of Yuuri’s palm caressing his skin.

“Do you think we’ll win?” he murmured, still gazing at Yuuri.

“I know we will,” Yuuri replied, hearing the certainty in his own voice. The weight of the war was too much for any one person to bear alone but Viktor had Yuuri by his side.

Yuuri might not know his own fate. But Viktor survived. The dream survived. That’s what his heart had been telling him for years now and that’s what he had chosen to believe.

Because no matter what happened to him, if Viktor was standing at the end of the war, surrounded by the celebrations of the Rebellion’s victory, then everything would have been worth it.

Viktor leaned in, pressing a light kiss to Yuuri’s lips. Yuuri thought about fireworks. Of celebrations and cheering in the streets. Of Viktor safe and alive at the end of the war, staring up at the stars.

4 ABY

Bright flashes of red and gold lit up the sky as fireworks exploded above the city, illuminating the celebrating masses below. Rebels and civilians alike cheered in the streets, celebrating the defeat of the Empire and the beginning of a brighter age. 

Viktor stood alone in the crowds, gaze fixed on the stars. Staring intently, almost as if he were searching for something. The celebrations continued on around him but he remained unmoving, the bright flashes of light from the sky reflected in his eyes.

A sudden noise came from behind him and Viktor’s gaze jerked away from the sky at the sound.

He turned around.

The End