𝘾𝙃𝘼𝙋𝙏𝙀𝙍 𝙎𝙄𝙓
—𝘧𝘰𝘳 𝘵𝘩𝘦 𝘳𝘦𝘤𝘰𝘳𝘥—

DAWN SAT WITH Bexley in the training room. Later on that night, after Poe had left Bexley, the two girls had unexpectedly met. Dawn was studying a map when Bexley entered the quiet room, hoping to make up for skipping training earlier that day. Dawn had noticed her presence, gesturing for the blonde to sit down next to her with a smile.

"What are you doing here?" Dawn questions her. "I thought you would be with Poe before he leaves."

"He needs to rest," Bexley shrugs. "What about you- why are you here so late?"

"I was scheduled to come in here to train with Spencer, but he ditched," she explains. "So I decided to study instead of wasting my time."

"Did you get the chance to speak with General Organa?" Bexley asks.

"Yes, actually," her eyes light up as she places the map aside. "She's going to talk with Poe and the other pilots to change the mission. Instead of investigating the sights and asking the survivors further questions on the ship they saw, we'll be looking for the ship before it attacks again."

"But you can't get to the First Order to track and follow it," the blonde says hesitantly.

"That doesn't mean we can't figure out where they're going to be next," Dawn insists, pulling the map out again. "The general gave me a map and told me to track every one of their recent attacks. If there's any specific order or route they're aiming for, I'll be able to figure it out soon."

Red dots were scarcely placed over the map of Takodana, each dot in a place where the First Order had already attacked. But Bexley couldn't see any kind of pattern, which confused her even further.

"Wait, why isn't there a pattern?" she asks.

"That's the problem," the brunette sighs, showing her a packet of papers that were laying at her side. "I've plotted everything with the information that General Organa gave to me, but there is no pattern. It's just random attacks."

"How far back are these attacks?" Bexley takes the papers, flipping through the dates.

"They started with the first attack— two weeks ago," she replies.

"You need more records from the general, there has to be more attacks from before these," Bexley says. "Then bring the map and the other records to the cafeteria tomorrow."

"Do you think . . . do you think that there were intentional bombings from the first order before their weapons were stolen?"

"I don't think weapons were stolen, Dawn. I think this has been going on for a lot longer than what we anticipated."

---

Sleep didn't come too soon for Bexley, even after she had finally made it to her bedroom. The girl had managed to finish the book without stressing over anything else, before taking a calming shower and laying down on her comfortable bed. She had the urge to see Poe, but knew he needed as much sleep as he could get. And besides, it was too late to leave her room anyway.

Bexley looked to her alarm clock, groaning as her eyes found the time. There was no doubt in her that she would get no sleep that night. The blonde was only a few hours away from breakfast, and she hadn't even attempted to sleep. Her room was pitch dark, except for the white numbers that glowed from her clock and a flashing light on the monitor of her projector.

"I'm going to regret this," she says to herself, shaking her head in disappointment.

For some reason, she couldn't sleep. Bexley's mind wouldn't fully function, and it was obvious she was tired. But that didn't mean she would fall asleep when she closed her eyes.

Bexley closes her eyes, easing her tensed muscles into the soft mattress and pillows. She completely relaxes, filling her thoughts with nothing but memories of her mother and father. She remembered the morning of her tenth birthday, finding herself immediately happy, and is dragged into the memory as if it were unfolding in front of her.

Nova and Brentley Terris had bought the girl everything she asked for that year, despite the cost. Their daughter begged for a book collection all year long; one that focused on the techniques of previous assasins. It wasn't too much, the couple decided, as they understood their daughter's urge to carry on the family line. And in those times, all seemed perfect.

Bexley had been so joyed when she woke up to her parents, a breakfast in bed, and the book set she had dreamed about for months. That was when she began her obsession for martial arts and hand-to-hand combat. Her father had practiced with her, and taught Bexley many ways of defense. The many weeks after her tenth birthday made her feel strong, and tough-willed.

She and Brentley had trained almost every day after her schooling, up until the incident in which her mother had passed. And for everyday after that, their schedule no longer remained as it always had been.

But Bexley was far too asleep in real time to remember the agonizing weeks after her mother's death.

---

"You look like shit," Heath tells the girl the next morning as she sits down next to him in the cafeteria. "Did you get any sleep?"

"Some," Bexley shrugs, letting out an exasperated yawn. "Not as much as I'd prefer, though. I couldn't get to sleep for some reason."

"Worrying like usual?" Dawn frowns, her eyebrows creasing in concern. "Bex . . . you know worrying so much isn't good for you."

"It wasn't like that," the girl assures them, her eyes falling to the floor. "I wasn't worrying at all. I'm not sure what it is, but we all have nights where we can't sleep, so it's normal."

"Did Poe tell you goodbye this morning?" Spencer asks, speaking up to change the subject.

"We said our goodbyes last night," she says, thankful for his ability to understand she didn't want to talk about her worrying. "And later on I finished my first book out of the many we assigned."

"Nerd," Heath snorts, rolling his eyes at her determination to get through the many books. "I haven't even started on those things. I think I'll procrastinate until the last moment, and skim over them the night before our exams."

"And that's why you'll have to take the course again," Bexley points out, punching him on the shoulder as she places her cheek against the cold table. "And I will be going on missions and leaving your ass in the dust."

"I'd have to see it to believe it. You have a ton of training to do until you can be an assasin, Bexley. And from what I've seen, you'll need to try a lot harder. Your ability to read and study won't be the only thing to help you pass."

"No need to be a grouch," the girl mumbles lowly, turning her face away from him. "How are you doing on the books, Spencer?"

"I've read three of them," he says nonchalantly. "But I'm gonna wait to read the rest, and focus on training for the next little bit."

"Have you been to training yet?"

"Once," the boy runs his fingers through his hair as he stretches in his spot. "I'm pretty good at sparring, so it won't take much more work. I can help you if you'd like."

"Really?" Bexley sits up, her eyes widening as she smiles. "You'd do that for me?"

Spencer nods, a warm smile making its way onto his face. Bexley refrains from getting overly excited, but still shows her gratitude through the expression on her face and the sparkle in her eyes.

"Thank you so much!" she breathes with relief, clasping her hands together. "I'll let you know the times this afternoon, and-"

"Hold up," Heath interjects, leaning forward in confusion. "Bexley, are you ditching me? We're training partners, I can help you with your spar if you need it."

"That doesn't mean you can't come," Spencer shrugs. "I can watch and give her pointers."

Heath begins muttering incoherent words under his breath, Bexley only ignoring his sour mood. She turns to Dawn, analyzing the the stack of papers in her hands.

"Are those new records?" Bexley points to them, reminded of their conversation the night before.

"Yes," Dawn says, excitement lacing her voice. "I woke up early this morning to speak with General Organa. She was surprised I asked for such early records, but didn't really question it. I get the day off of studies today, so I'll bring the map to lunch."

"I didn't think there would be bombing records that far back," Bexley says, shaking her head. "Some of them have to be accidents though, right?"

"Of course," Dawn nods. "These are just the 'non-natural disaster' records, going back to nearly seven years ago. The plotting is definitely gonna take some time, but I think I'm prepared to figure this thing out."

"Well you should be," Bexley chuckles, glancing down to the stack of papers again. "Now you've got me invested."

But oh how she didn't know those records would prove her life- for six years- had been a lie.

_______