Work Text:
Captain Roy Mustang swore a silent oath that he would never let himself get used to the sight of a world dying. As he stood on the bridge of his Star Destroyer Firestarter and took in the image of city-sized debris flying up into the atmosphere from Jedha, he felt a shiver work its way down his skin. This new battle station represented a paradigm shift in warfare. He clasped his hands behind his back and stared directly at the results of the Death Star’s “test firing.” The superweapon disgusted him, but he would not look away.
He remembered the extermination of the Geonosians and how the Empire systematically wiped them out for the crime of constructing sections of the Emperor’s doomsday device. Mustang, fresh from the Imperial Academy and hungry for glory, directed a heavy cruiser during the conflict. How many Genosian ships did he burn out of the sky as they fled their poisoned world? How many millions did he condemn to an agonizing death in the toxic burroughs beneath the surface of that desert planet?
At first, he paid such things no mind. He had orders and Mustang believed that absolved him of any wrongdoing, no matter the pangs of guilt he felt in his heart. But a chance conversation with a TIE fighter pilot changed all that. He could still see her in his mind’s eye, her fair skin streaked with engine grease and her golden hair tied behind her in a bun. Her TIE pilot uniform hung loose and unzipped to her midsection, revealing a filthy white undershirt and her powerful, muscular arms. He approached her as nothing more than a beautiful distraction. Instead, she gave him a conscience.
The sound of heavy footsteps on the bridge interrupted his reviere. Mustang finally turned away from the shattering of Jedha and saluted the newcomer. Admiral Bradley quickly returned his salute, then stepped towards the windows of the bridge and looked out at the dying world.
“Magnificent beyond compare. I tell you captain, with this weapon at our fingertips I can’t imagine any more worlds throwing their lot in with the Rebellion.”
“Our, fingertips sir? I was under the impression that Governor Tarkin was in command of the Death Star.”
The admiral shot him a sideways glance with his one good eye. Bradley lost his left eye during the Clone Wars and declined an organic replacement, opting instead for a mechanical prosthetic that whirred slightly as it refocused.
“Don’t get fresh with me, Mustang. The Death Star will help enforce Imperial rule all over the galaxy. I’m willing to bet that every ship in the fleet will get a turn serving alongside this unparalleled weapon.”
Mustang grimaced at the thought.
“So that’s what we are now? Escort vessels?”
“Suddenly unhappy with your station? I remember how eager you were when I gave you command of the Firestarter! Don’t tell me that this new technological marvel has stunted your ambition?”
Before Mustang could reply, the comlink on his breast pocket sprang to life with a crackle of static. The voice emitting from it washed over him like a cool wave and instantly soothed his rising temper.
“Captain, you’re needed in the primary hangar. Disciplinary issue with one of the squadrons.”
The captain brought the comlink up to his mouth and let a smile show on his face as he replied, heedless of the glare Bradley shot at him.
“Something you can’t attend to yourself, Lieutenant Hawkeye?”
A few awkward seconds passed as he waited for her reply.
“That’s a negative, sir. Havoc and his squadron need a reminder that they serve at the Emperor’s pleasure, not their own.”
“Typical Havoc. I’ll be right down. If you’ll excuse me, Admiral Bradley.”
Without waiting for the admiral’s response, Mustang strode toward the turbolift at the rear of the bridge. He returned the comlink to his breast pocket and patted his uniform down as the doors closed. Despite the fact that he had known Riza for years now, Roy still felt a certain nervousness about his appearance around her. It made no sense. Riza certainly kept good enough hygiene, but the natural occurrences of her life as a pilot meant she always possessed a few burns, bruises, and oil stains about her. His compulsive grooming of himself in the hours and minutes before he saw her seemed unnecessary in that light.
The doors to the turbolift opened and revealed the massive main hangar of the Firestarter. A small mouse droid whistled at him over the industrial din and Roy began following it to an isolated corner of the hangar. A few of the pilots and maintenance workers noticed him and saluted, but Roy paid them no mind. Finally, the droid reached a massive stack of industrial crates. Roy stepped into the shadows and out of sight of anyone else in the hangar.
He felt her arms before he saw her. Her hands shot towards the front the jacket he only just smoothed down in the elevator. Her grip still terrified and excited him in equal measure. The muscles on this woman made his heart skip a beat. Before he could blurt out something embarrassing, Lieutenant Riza Hawkeye hefted him off his feet and pressed him against the wall of crates.
Not quite the welcome he hoped for or ever expected. He looked down at Lieutenant Hawkeye and saw fury contorting her features into a snarl.
“Did you know?”
It came out of her mouth as less of a question and more of an accusation.
“Did you know they were going to fire on Jedah?”
“No, I didn’t.”
Riza looked him in the eyes and saw the truth there. Her expression softened and she gently let the captain down. He picked his green cap up from off the deck and returned to his head.
“Bradley did though. No doubt in my mind. He’s quite enamored with the Emperor’s new toy, despite the fact that he’ll never control it. Only Governor Tarkin would have ordered something like this.”
Riza’s posture relaxed and she looked away. Though she could easily hoist Roy into the air, the captain still stood taller than her. Seeing her from his height and with such a weakened posture made her seem momentarily more frail and vulnerable.
“We swore to each other that we would never take part in something like this again. No more killing without reason. No more genocides. I almost fell out of squadron formation out there when I saw it fire on Jedha.”
“What stopped you?”
“I didn’t want to expose you. Expose us. What we’re planning.”
Closing the gap between himself and the lieutenant, Roy took a step forward and pressed his hands to the sides of Riza’s well-toned arms. While not a full embrace, even this level of contact excited the captain. Still, he kept his voice steady as he answered her implied question.
“Bradley doesn’t suspect a thing. He thinks I’m upset because the Death Star puts a halt to my career advancement. He has no idea we’re planning to defect.”
With a suddenness that surprised him, Riza’s head darted around as she searched their dark surroundings behind the crates.
“Could you be just a bit more discreet?”
The venom in her voice didn’t cow Roy. Instead, the young man saw an opportunity and took it when he spoke again.
“With you, Lieutenant, I’ll be as discreet as you want.”
A smile crept across his face as he leaned in even closer to Riza. At this distance he could feel her breath with each word that came from her lips. It felt like a caress.
“Stop it. Not here, not now.”
Her protests came without force. Riza’s eyes stared back at Roy and he could see them widen as he drifted closer.
“So, you were worried about me out there.”
“Yes. No. Shut up.”
“That’s no way to talk to your commanding officer.”
This was the dance. Seeing how close she would let him come before she drew the line. When she truly desired that he stop, she would give him a gentle shove or simply move herself away from him, ending that session. Sometimes, she would give him a wink as she walked away which only taunted him more.
“If you don’t stop right now, I’ll cover your desk in reassignment request from every squadron in this hangar. I’ll bury you in bureaucracy.”
Roy considered her for a moment. He put on an exaggerated pensive expression, as if deep in thought about Riza’s threat. Then he shrugged and placed his face near hers again.
“You kiss me and you won’t look up from your desk for a year. Do you hear me?”
She bit her lower lip in her excitement. Roy couldn’t keep from laughing. So cute. He could no longer contain himself and he crossed the final distance between their lips.
The kiss was everything to him. Warmth. Light. Hope. Mixed with the aftertaste of some terrible coffee she probably drank while staying up working on her TIE fighter. Only a few seconds passed before Riza pulled away, a wide smile across her face. Roy’s own expression matched.
“Well, now I have to defect. There’s no way I’m filling out that paperwork you promised.”
Riza’s smile remained, but her eyes shifted away from Roy’s. Then her expression slowly fell and she took a few steps away from him with her arms crossed.
“Riza.”
Her eyes locked with his again. He felt his heart flutter as he stared back at the woman he most assuredly loved.
“Yes, Roy?”
“We’re going to get out of here. We’re going to survive. And we’ll do it together.”
He hoped his words sounded convincing. At that moment, he wanted nothing more than for Riza to feel secure with him. He needed her belief, her confidence, and her trust the same way he needed oxygen. Just as he began worrying that she might not say anything in response, she smiled again and righted his world.
“Keep talking like that... And I might just believe you.”