Work Text:
They didn’t like to look at the sky anymore. Most of the time, all they would see was another battle, hundreds of ships skirmishing, occasionally punctuated by ugly blooms of flame and smoke.
But not tonight.
Tonight, the blockade above was finally gone, ribbons of light striping the heavens in its place. And the soldiers of the Republic looked up.
Captain Crow gazed at the light show, for once not making the slightest effort to hide his delight as he spoke to his Jedi General. “I’ve seen skies across the galaxy, but none stranger than this. What do you think causes it?”
Alisti Kamchatka obliged, always happy to draw from the myths her master told her as a padawan. “The natives believe that it’s the work of their death god, who honors the heroes of their people in the afterlife. He creates a pathway across the sky to guide fallen soldiers home.” She smiled up at the atmosphere as bands of green joined the dancing blue and purple. “Of course, there’s a scientific explanation, but I prefer the stories.”
They lapsed back into silence, all attention focused on the heavens. But Alisti could sense that they felt more than just awe.
“Ma’am?” Crow’s voice tentatively broke the spell of quiet. “Do you think that the lights guide soldiers like us too?”
Alisti drew her gaze from the stars back to her friend’s earnest expression, her heart sinking. Clone casualties weren’t viewed the same as those of conscriptioned soldiers. If a natural-born died fighting, it was a sacrifice. If a clone died, it was collateral damage. But she knew better; she owed her life to her men.
“Yes,” she told him with conviction.
And then she looked up, imagining her fallen friends walking the bridge across the stars.
“Godspeed,” she whispered.