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chapter five: revelations
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     IT'S PEACEFUL OUTSIDE of the Resistance base and Indira discovers that she likes D'Qar's atmosphere. With nothing but the stars and the trees and the balmy nighttime breeze, she can truly appreciate the beauty of the strange planet. A still silence stretches out between her and the general, but it isn't the awkward kind, so Indira doesn't mind it. The two of them had walked to the outer grounds of the base, not straying too far from the perimeter but far enough away to truly be alone. General Organa led them to a secluded area beneath a canopy of trees just beside the bank of a trickling stream before taking a seat on one of the large rocks near the water. Indira had taken a seat beside her, waiting for the older woman to finally break her silence.

     Clearing her throat slightly, General Organa begins to speak. "When I first met your mother, she was seventeen years old," she tells Indira, pausing slightly. "I was nineteen at the time. We weren't immediate friends, but she risked her life to help rescue me from the Death Star. For that alone, I was forever indebted to her."

     Indira blinks at that, feeling absolutely stunned as her mouth drops into an 'o' shape. "I thought you met each other in the senate," she says once she's recovered from the surprise.

     General Organa scoffs. "No," she says with a shake of her head. "We knew each other long before that."

      "Wait. She really rescued you from the Death Star?" Indira repeats dumbly.

       Her mother had been a vehement pacifist. At least, that's how Indira had known her. Words and diplomacy had always been her mother's strength; not weapons. She tries to envision her mother as some sort of gunslinging rebellion hero, but the thought is too absurd for her to even comprehend. It's near impossible for Indira to picture her mother even shooting a gun — let alone staging secret rescue missions aboard the Death Star. Evidently, Jana Beren had kept more secrets from Indira than she had ever known.

      The general nods as an amused smile covers her face. "Amongst other places," she says. "Some more unsavory than others. Eventually, we came to the conclusion that we made much better friends than rivals and stopped most of our quarreling. At the end of the rebellion, I considered Jana to be one of my dearest friends," her voice turns shaky, breaking halfway through her next sentence. "Though she was always closer with — sorry — with my brother, Luke. Gods only know that she could hardly stand Han! They used to argue with each other non-stop; the two of them could go on for hours."

     Indira listens in a state of complete and utter disbelief, not entirely sure how to process all of this new information. Her mother had lied to her. It feels like a punch to the gut to know that so much of her mother's past was cloaked in secrecy. She wonders, dismally, if she ever really knew her at all.

     Indira clears her throat. "She never told me," she admits hoarsely. "Any of it. She said that she was a bartender on Tatooine during the war and that she never joined the fight. I didn't think that — well, any of this."

     "Bartender?" General Organa asks, raising her eyebrows. "That's new. Try former assassin instead."

     Her eyes nearly bulge out of their sockets. "Assassin?!" Indira demands.

     "Amongst other things," General Organa finishes.

      "Unbelievable," she mutters under her breath. "She lied to me."

     General Organa touches her shoulder lightly and for the first time, Indira doesn't pull away. "She only did it to protect you and — to some extent — to protect herself. War is hell. Sometimes it's easier to pretend that none of it ever happened — that it was all a bad dream and will disappear if we pretend it never existed."

     Indira shakes her head. "I don't understand —"

     General Organa sighs. "And I hope you never do," she admits. "Your mother never wanted this life for you. She wanted a better one, free of the hardships of war. Once you were born, she decided to set her weapons down for good."

     "And did she?" Indira asks, too curious to stop herself.

     A wry smile crosses the general's face. "As far as I know, yes," she says. "When I asked her to join me in forming the Resistance, she turned me down for that very reason."

     Her brow furrows. "You asked her to what?"

     "To join me," General Organa repeats, rubbing her temples. "It was right around the time I resigned from the senate. You had just gone off to school at the academy, if I remember correctly."

     "Why did she turn you down?" Indira asks, slightly suspicious. "If you were such close friends, what made her say no?"

     "She did it for you," the general says, meeting Indira's gaze with an unflinching stare of her own. "She never wanted you to play a part in this. I'm the one who mucked that up by asking you to come here."

      Her lips curl downwards into a frown as Indira fiddles with her necklace, attempting to process everything she'd heard. "There's so much I never knew," she murmurs, shaking her head in a daze. "So much I never asked and now I'll never get the chance."

     General Organa is silent for a few moments before she speaks once more. This time, her voice is much softer than before. "I feel guilty, sometimes," she struggles to admit. "I can't help but feel that I was the one who painted a target on the back of her head; that if I hadn't gone to her and asked her to join me she wouldn't be —"

     Dead.

     The word hangs in the silence between them before Indira shakes her head, albeit somewhat reluctantly. "No," she finally tells the older woman despite the familiar ache spreading its way across the back of her throat. "It wasn't your fault. The First Order wanted to make a statement and her ship was an easy target. You can't blame yourself for that."

     A forced smile makes its way onto the general's face before it fades. "I suppose you're right," she says. "But guilt has a funny way of making us blame ourselves for circumstances beyond our control."

     Indira laughs without humor. "Don't I know it."

     The general sighs once more before placing a hand on Indira's shoulder. "I made a promise to your mother once," she says, "to look after you if anything ever happened to her."

     Indira feels a bitter sting of disappointment as she thinks of all the years she spent alone, struggling to keep herself from sinking under the tides of grief after her mother's death. "So why didn't you?"

     General Organa looks at her intently. "Obviously, I was remiss in that promise and for that, I apologize," she admits. "But, I intend to do better."

     "Why now?" Indira asks, raising a skeptical brow. "It's been four years since she died."

     A look of regret crosses the general's face. "I know," she says quietly. "There's no good excuse. War is war, but I should have done a better job checking up on you."

Something like anger burns hot in Indira's stomach and she can't help but let four years worth of bitterness spill from her lips. "Yes, you should have. I was alone — I had nothing, no one. Do you have any idea what that's like?"

"More than you know," Organa replies firmly before her face softens into a mask of gentle compassion. "Believe me, I know the feeling. And I regret leaving you to endure it all on your own. You were really lost, weren't you, kiddo?"

     Indira feels tears well up in her eyes and forces herself to look away, clenching her jaw tightly as she nods and swipes angrily at her cheeks. The tears feel like a betrayal, but she's starting to believe what Kali had said — that Organa might actually be genuine in all of this, unlike the others Indira had known.

     The genera sighs in response. "That's what I thought," she murmurs, sounding disappointed in herself before she opens her arms slightly. "Come here, kid."

     Indira doesn't even bother fighting the embrace and allows the older woman to sweep her into a hug. Organa embraces her in that way that all mothers seem to instinctively know how to do and it's the closest thing to comfort that Indira has experienced since the loss of her mother. The walls of resentment and bitterness that she'd built up against the older woman seem to be tumbling down, leaving her more vulnerable than she's felt in years.

     "I guess what I really dragged you all the way out to the middle of the woods to tell you," General Organa tells her, "is that your mother would be proud of you, kid." She pulls back to meet Indira's wide-eyed stare with her wizened gaze. "And that you made the right choice. I know it probably feels overwhelming — lonely, too, perhaps — but you have a whole base of people around here to support you. You're never alone in any of this; not anymore."

     A quivering smile crosses Indira's face before she ducks her head, wiping at her eyes quickly before any tears can fall. When she looks up again, her vision is clear and her smile is steadier. "Thank you," she answers and it's genuine. "Somehow, I think that was exactly what I needed to hear."

     General Organa gives her a bemused smile. "Then I've done my job correctly."

     She stands from the rock she'd been sitting on and Indira follows her example, stretching slightly. D'Qar's two moons shine brightly overhead, casting a silvery glow over the forest and bathing them in moonlight. As the general turns back towards the complex, Indira finds the nerve to ask one last question.

     "General," she says quickly before her courage can leave her. She grasps the pendant around her neck tightly. "Did you... did my mother ever mention anything about my father to you?"

     General Organa looks at her with a disconcerted expression. "No," the older woman admits. "She never told me who your father was. Just that he... left."

      Fighting back her disappointment, Indira nods and looks down at her feet. "That's what I thought," she murmurs, squaring her shoulders and lifting her head once more. "But I needed to be sure."

     The general gives her a sympathetic smile before nodding her head back towards the complex. Indira falls into step beside her, contemplating everything she'd learned from their conversation in silence. Her head reels as she attempts to reconcile the fierce assassin turned rebel warrior that General Organa had described with the woman that used to tuck Indira in every night and sing her to sleep.

     When they re-enter the doors of the base, a few people are milling about. Some of them stare at the unlikely duo, but General Organa seems unbothered by it, so Indira does her best to mimic the older woman's calm confidence. However, before they walk much further, the general pauses and puts a hand on Indira's arm to slow her down.

     "Now," she says sternly. "I want you to try and get some decent sleep tonight, kid. And, please, don't get lost on your way back to your room this time."

     Indira's cheeks flush slightly. "That definitely won't be happening again," she mutters.

      General Organa chuckles lightly before squeezing her shoulder affectionately. "Then I'll see you tomorrow, Beren," she says. "Bright and early. There's lots of work to do."

     "Understood," Indira replies, giving the general a casual salute before turning in the opposite direction and heading towards her quarters.

     "Beren," General Organa calls after her, making her freeze in place.

      "Yes?" She asks cautiously, turning to look at the older woman.

      She points to the leftward corridor. "Shouldn't you be headed that way?"

      "Right," Indira sighs under her breath before spinning on her heel and heading in the correct direction. "Goodnight, General!"

      As she makes her way back to her quarters, Indira's heart feels lighter and her head is more clear. She knows that things aren't perfect right now — that they will likely never be perfect — but time will allow her to adjust to everything else along the way. An old chapter of her life had come to a close; a new one was beginning.

     SHE SLEEPS LIKE the dead once her head hits the pillow. Indira barely manages to slip off her shoes before crawling under the covers of her bed and passing out face-down, drooling unceremoniously all over her pillowcase. Though normally a light sleeper, she hardly stirs when Kali comes creeping in later, accidentally tripping over her boots in the dark and falling to the floor with a very audible thump before making her way to her own bed.

      EV-1 wakes them at the ungodly hour of o'five-hundred the next morning, blaring a loud alarm through her speakers. Indira nearly throws her pillow at the droid before forcing herself to be calm. Kali's groan is an audible noise from her part of the bedroom and it sums up Indira's mood perfectly without uttering a single word.

       They dress in silence; Kali in her standard orange pilot jumpsuit and Indira in a sturdy pair of faded green pants and a t-shirt. After that, they make a quick stop at the fresher. A few people crowd the joint space, chatting through mirrors as they brush their teeth or shave in the communal lavatory. Indira finds an empty sink to splash her face with cold water before attempting to tame the curly, bedraggled mess atop her head.

      The mess hall is buzzing with people when they arrive. Kali makes a beeline for the caf, pouring herself a cup of the steaming liquid and drinking it immediately without any added sweetener or milk and Indira shudders. Still, the caffeinated beverage seems to do its job, waking the pilot from her zombie-like state.

     She shoots Indira a wry smile over the brim of her cup. "Ready to eat more mush food?"

      Indira resists the urge to groan. "Only if we must."

      They make their way through the breakfast line quickly. Today, it consists of some sort of sausage — though Indira knows better than to ask what, exactly, it's made of — as well as steaming, watery looking oats and eggs so runny that they could be soup. The girls take a seat at an empty table after filling their plates and are quickly joined by an array of other Resistance fighters that chatter around them noisily.

     "Where's Jessika?" Indira asks Kali when she realizes that the other girl isn't present.

      Kali rolls her eyes. "Training, probably," she says. "Jess is very much a morning person. She gets up at o'four-hundred every day to practice her combat skills."

      "She gets up that early every day just to train?" Indira gasps in horror. "Do we have to do that, too?"

     Kali nearly spits out her coffee. "Hell no! Do you think I'd still be here if we did?"

      Indira shakes her head and laughs. "No, I guess not."

      Kali takes the time to point out some of the other resistance members around the mess hall, starting with a woman with brown skin and platinum blonde hair. "That's Karé Kun. She's a captain in Black Squadron," she explains in a hushed voice. "Black Squadron is Commander Dameron's squadron. Truth be told, they're hardly on base lately. The general's been sending them on very top secret missions. Nobody but them knows what for."

       Curiosity piqued, Indira sits up a little straighter. "Who else is in Black Squadron?"

      "Jessika," Kali says before scanning the room. "Temmin Wexley, who helped General Organa form the Resistance, but everyone calls him Snap," she points to a portly looking man with a scruffy beard. "L'ulo L'ampar, who is a veteran from the Galactic Civil War," she whispers, singling out the green-skinned Duros male. "And Oddy Muva, their technician," she finishes, gesturing to a tan Abednedo male sitting at the end of the table.

      "Very impressive," Indira notes.

      Kali grins. "Right you are. They're kind of a big deal around here."

      "Anyone else I should know?" Indira asks, looking around the cafeteria.

      Kali pauses to think. "Hmm," she says lightly. "There's definitely more people worth knowing. Most of the higher ups don't eat in the mess, though. Higher ranking officers have their own kitchens in their quarters."

      "Damn," Indira mutters. "I'm jealous."

     A sigh leaves her friend's lips. "Yeah, me too. Jess has a mini-fridge in her room though, so she'll sometimes share her food with me."

     "How romantic," Indira teases, ducking when Kali flicks water at her face.

      "But," she continues, completely unbothered as she scans the room once more, "you might want to introduce yourself to Doc Cosimo. He's one of the heads of the medical wing, so you'll probably meet him eventually; one way or another."

     Indira frowns. "Got it," she says, gaze narrowing on the middle-aged man sitting by himself at one of the tables. He has dark skin and short black hair that is starting to fade to grey. A patchy beard covers his face, making his appearance even more haggard. Just looking at him makes Indira feel tired as she watches him sip his coffee stiffly and alone. "He seems a little ..."

     "Burned out?" Kali finishes. "Yeah, he is. Aside from the medical droids and Doctor Kalonia, he's our only real physician. The poor guy hasn't had an easy life, either. His son was taken by the First Order when he was just a boy."

     Indira's heart sinks to the bottom of her stomach, settling in like a pit of ice. "That's terrible," she murmurs.

     Kali's expression grows solemn. "You'll find out pretty quick that a lot of people here have very personal grudges against the First Order," she says. "Friends that were killed, family members that were taken — they fight because they know just how much it hurts to lose someone and they never want to let it happen again."

     It dawns on Indira then that she's not the only person present to have lost someone at the First Order's hands. She had been so consumed by her own grief and thoughts of vengeance that she hadn't stopped to think about how many countless others might have gone through circumstances similar to her own. General Organa was right, she realizes. I'm not alone.

     "I never thought of it that way," Indira confesses, glancing over at Kali with wide eyes.

     Kali gives her a sad smile. "It's something to keep in mind," she says. "If you ever start to doubt that you made the right choice, remember that it's those people we're fighting for."

      Indira nods before swallowing thickly, absentmindedly touching the crystal around her neck as it flares with sudden warmth.

EDITED ON:
08.08.19