Air.

Talia needed air.

She rushed out into the lush forests of Dantooine, not knowing where she would go. She had to go somewhere. Anywhere. Away from her room. Away from Cassian.

Bile rose in her throat. She wanted to puke. But god, she hated the action. She swallowed and took a moment to stop and simply breathe. She let the tears in her eyes fall, nice and cool against her heated skin.

It was calm out there. Nothing but the birds singing in the trees as they lulled themselves to sleep. Night had already fallen, leaving the stars above twinkling. Talia wouldn't let her attention falter from steadying her own breathing. In. Out. In. Out.

Soon enough, she felt better. Still had to lean onto a tree to maintain her balance, but overall, she felt better. Less cooped up. Less emotional. Jeez, the emotions were strong enough. More than she could take. As if she were drowning in a dark ocean that tried to consume her from the inside out. There was no swimming away from that.

Nearby, she heard drinking and laughing. Melodic tunes that brushed against her skin and ears. It felt...nice. Nice to hear such joy.

That's right. The get together. Once a week, some of the rebels would start a campfire and sit around to drink and hang out. Took the edge off any mission they had come back from, or simply eased the time while waiting for a new one. Cassian said he would go to this one. Talia had to at least show up before he did.

Talia walked over slowly, making sure to take each step carefully. Her mind still spun a bit, but it wasn't anything she couldn't handle. For now. She couldn't drink anymore. Wouldn't. It didn't numb anything. Just made it easier not to think. She grabbed a water bottle and sat down in an empty seat next to Essja. All of their friends were there, listening intently to one of Ven's stories. He always told the best ones. He was usually quiet, but man, when people got him talking, he couldn't stop. In a good way, of course. Best storyteller in the circle.

Talia took a small sip of water and set the bottle on the ground. She wrapped her good arm around her torso as her brown eyes stared into the fire in front of her. None of the other rebels paid any attention to her yet, and she was thankful. Well, all except for Kay-Tuesso. He watched her intently, head cocked to the side as he tried to analyze her. She wouldn't let him. Not yet. Talia remained still, not making any expressions or fidgeting.

It almost worked. Until Halron finally looked over at her and his joyous expression fell into a frown. He nodded towards her and asked, "Hey Tal, are you okay?"

Essja cleared her throat, and when she got his attention, she shook her head.

Subtle gesture. Unfortunately for Talia, not subtle enough. The other rebels slowly quieted down as Halron looked at her. She couldn't meet his eyes. By now, the other rebels had heard about the mission. Word traveled quickly, especially when it dealt with something harsh. Rebels ate the gossip up. But no one had heard about the bombing. "The kid pulled off a false flag operation and suicide bombed a market." She wrapped her arm tighter around herself like a snake. It comforted her, even while under all of their gazes as if she were a species under a microscope. "Cassian and I got into a fight over it. Said some things I shouldn't have."

"I'm sorry to hear that." Talia nodded in response. Halron waited and took another drink. He always stuck up for his friends, and this situation was no exception. "Cassian chose to go against orders, you know. That counts for integrity."

Talia's voice deadpanned, "I wish it could have ended differently. For both situations."

"We always do." Halron stretched out on the log, and thought for a long moment. Storytime, storytime. Campfires were meant to be fun, but sometimes, most of the time, especially under drunk circumstances, they got dark. "When I first started out, I was so young. Reckless. I accidentally sabotaged the wrong ship and killed a man that was doing good for the galaxy. You know, the bleeding heart type to give food and supplies to the injured and homeless on war torn planets. To take someone like that away from the galaxy? I still regret being so careless. Not paying enough attention. That's why I try to do good here or there in his name."

"You wear your heart on your sleeve already, Halron." Talia finally looked at him.

A sad smile graced his lips and matched the intensity of the roaring sea of memories behind his black eyes. "The guilt helps."

A woman spoke up from the edge of the circle. She was older, wrinkles already formed around her eyes and mouth in a hard way. Deep. Tormented. Wrinkles one would only get by making the same face over and over. That's what Talia's mom told her, anyway, all those years ago. "I came in contact with a rogue Sith once during the clone war. She used the force on me to make me shoot and kill my crewmate. The only thing that saved me was the blaster fire from the rest of the crew. I was tossed aside as if I were nothing but a ragdoll. Woke up amongst the bodies." She stared at the ground, and didn't need to convey how horrible she felt about it. The regret and torment showed in her once bright green eyes. "To see all of them dead while I lived...the scene is ingrained into my eyelids, even now. It was enough to stop going out into the field and focus on repairing ships. It's the only way I can live with myself."

Talia didn't hear the condolences the other rebels gave. To be forced to kill one of their own against their will? God, Talia couldn't imagine. The mere thought of it regurgitated long locked away memories of what her ex husband said to her. That he'd make her kill her girlfriend. Then make Zara kill Talia. The things he'd whisper to her, wild threats that she didn't want to remember. She wanted to forget. Go.

Go.

Leave me alone. Talia thought as she shut her eyes tightly. By the time she managed to get the memories to stop flowing back into her mind, Sadako was already talking about her experience.

"I was in deep. I couldn't leave. Couldn't get word to the rebellion. Renard trusted me. Trusted me a little too much. Here I was, posing as a key to opening their business up to new opportunities, and we nearly reigned over these planets. That kind of power gets to your head. Until he started killing people. Started killing the slaves that were useful. I couldn't do anything. Couldn't do anything but play along and be with him in more than one way until he gave up the name of his boss. Got me a meeting. Something. Any concrete evidence of who to target next up the food chain. He found out who I was and started to run."

Sadako clenched her hands into tight fists. She closed her dark eyes, not wanting anyone to see the tears. "A year went by. Renard would leave me 'presents'. Dead bodies of people he'd killed, adorned with a lovely note to me. By the time I finally caught him, he stopped. Stopped running. Stopped trying to get me killed. I can still hear his voice in my head as he said he loved me. Then, he killed himself. Cyanide pill." She opened her eyes. No tears were left. Only raw fire, burning as brightly as the real one in front of them. "My only regret was that I couldn't kill him with my own hands."

Power took control over Sadako's life. Even for the briefest of moments. Talia couldn't imagine that kind of sick power. One obtained from illegal activities and on a high of adrenaline. Wasn't her style. Wasn't where her heart rested. But even then, undercover with no one else to turn to...maybe she would have done the same. The mere thought of it made a chill run a course through her entire body. And the part where the guy had fallen for her? In some sick and twisted way? Yikes. Then again, it probably wasn't any better than Talia's ex-husband after he went crazy.

Another rebel joined in. Reconnaissance, if Talia remembered correctly. He glanced around at the others, not exactly meeting their eyes. "Ever watch a village go hungry? Blocked in without any food or water? The Empire not giving up or giving them any resources?" He swallowed, his blue eyes wide with the memory, almost as if he were seeing it all again. "I did. Watched it happen. Recon mission. Nothing I could do but sit and watch. Only one opening existed, and that happened to be an incredibly small time window. Nothing major to where I could get in, or get supplies through. Nothing."

There was a silence. Long. Drawn out. One filled with chills, followed by goosebumps. The other rebels watched him carefully, not really knowing what to say. The recon rebel teared up as he took another drink. "Funerals were held every day. More and more just kept dying. Dropping in the streets, in homes, at work. Too much death. The Empire didn't care. Some of the villagers were helping hide a rebel. It didn't take too long after some funerals that the rebel gave herself up. Turned into an instant public execution. And the village died off anyway."

Kalla, their own resident badass rocketjock, joined in the conversation, "Villages are the worst place to live in these times. People were being held hostage, but there were too many enemies. Way too many. Wiped out the ground team. There was no way we were going to get wiped out too. Best option was to take 'em all out from the skies." She brushed back her purple hair, the color of it now fading back into her original black. Kalla's green eyes didn't dare to look at any of us. Just read the label on the bottle she held, even though it was in entirely different language. "Draven made the call. It was an extremist group. They all were there. We had to tie up a loose end."

She winced, more at the memory than saying the words out loud. "We didn't disagree."

Another silence reigned. Pain jabbed Talia in the heart, and what oozed out was hatred. Hatred enough to boil her blood in inky darkness. Who do the higher ups think they are? Subjecting these poor rebels to all of this? Making them do very, very hard and nasty work? But the longer she looked around at the group, the more she saw the agony in their eyes. Clear as day. That's when the hatred faded. War was nasty. Hard. Destructive. Scary. She had no one to blame but the Empire who put them in this situation. But she didn't want to hear any more. No more. No more stories. No more heartbreak. Her heart had enough. Yet she rooted to her spot.

Essja peered over at her, orange eyes worn with tears as if it were a sunset on a rainy day. She reached over and grabbed Talia's hand in her own gently. She started to speak, a slight tremble in her voice, "I sat on top of a hill waiting to assassinate this councilman. Something went wrong and he grabbed a child. Placed the kid right in front of his chest and tried to back away. I couldn't see the guns. I couldn't see who was staring him down. They were blocked by a building." Tears fell, dancing down her cheeks like skaters on ice. "I only had one shot. The window was closing and I absolutely could not let him get away. So I took it."

Warmth. Despite the cold words coming out of Essja's mouth, all Talia felt was warmth. And pain. Hot, white agony that emanated off of Essja. She suffered with what she did every day. Yet here she was, still standing. Still going on. Talia's heart sank as tears filled her vision. She wrapped an arm around Essja and brought her closer, holding her as both of them cried. Talia understood. Realized what all of these rebels had to do to keep everything going. It was horrible...and sadly needed. By the stars, if they only had another choice, it would have been better.

Ven, a big burly man with blonde hair and the bluest eyes, spoke at first, his voice soft and full of sorrow, "I lost my wife to a child." He bit his clenched fist, keeping himself from crying as the tears formed in his eyes. It helped him focus, only somewhat. "I remember the child's face. One day my wife was working undercover as an Imp. And the next? Shot to death. I was on comms the entire time. She said it was her. The little girl we spared long ago." Ven paused. He looked over at Talia, his mouth twisting into the deepest frown she had ever seen. "And I'd go back in time and kill her if I could."

Too much detail? Not enough? He broke his eyes away from Talia's and looked down into the raging fire in the center. His words dripped of venom, but there was no sting. The sting had already hit his heart long ago. "These children become full of vengeance. Hatred. Pledge their lives to an Empire because a rebel did this, or that, or killed their parents. What else are they supposed to do? Forgive us and move on? It's even rarer to find them recruiting to our side because of that action. Some are not meant to be saved."

Essja and Talia continued to hold on. Continued to cry, keeping their sobs hushed. It helped to squeeze each other's free hand, but not much. Pain was still pain at the end of the day. This was more than physical. A heavy weight that rested on each of their shoulders every waking moment. Maybe their dreams as well. All of these stories only got more bogged down by how many repressed emotions these rebels held onto. Now, they could release them altogether, but it made the dark energies only more intense. More intense emotions. It only caused Talia to cry more, hiding her face in Essja's shoulder. Essja's grip tightened in a comforting way as tears continued to fall silently down her face.

After hearing all these stories? Both sides were so incredibly wrong. Screw the Alliance. Screw the Empire. Was Saw Guerera's extremism the right path? No. That wasn't it either. The closest to freedom they would get would be aligning with the rebellion.

Damn it.

Cassian was right.

Damn the stars. Damn the entire galaxy for putting all of them in this situation.

It wasn't the fact that Cassian was right that made Talia's stomach sink. Rather it had been that killing the child had been the right course of action. At one point, if he had been younger and less exposed to Imperial propaganda and expectations, maybe saving him would have worked.

Ugh. Agreeing with Draven's order made Talia want to throw up. It was a twisty feeling in her stomach where it twisted into knots and looped in on itself. The bile remained trapped, and only some of it escaped to come up her throat. She never wanted to be in agreement with him. Never. If she could, she'd tell him off.

But that would be a quick way to get removed from life, even if Cassian tried to help her.

As she looked around at all of her fellow rebels drinking in abysmal silence, a chill ran up her spine. Not out of fear or because it was cold. It was just...there. Like a cold wave of energy. She glanced over at where Kaytoo had been, only to find him gone.

Talia exhaled as silently as she could as her brown eyes wandered to land on the campfire. The gross feeling in her stomach slowly morphed into unease. Would an apology be enough? Maybe she could do a grand gesture. Sorry for what I said? No. She had meant what she said with her whole heart. They both wounded each other. Hopefully an apology would be enough.

The more time her and Cassian spent apart, the more it all felt unnatural. Why? She fared just fine before him.

She took another drink of water.

The emotions that stirred inside her heart clashed together and made thoughts swim in her mind. So many possibilities, and only one solution came out clear.

Love started to blossom in her heart.

Timing was everything, right?

Except after a huge fight like that, it seemed oh so wrong. Timing hardly ever worked out in her life. Either she was too early or always a little too late. Perhaps this time, she arrived at the solution a bit early. Knowing Cassian, he wasn't ready to open up that much, and that was fine. Talia could keep secrets.

The more she thought about it, the more it hurt to think of how Cassian might be faring at the moment. They had been inseparable for nearly over a year. Closer than binary stars. Thick as thieves. A jet juicer and their alcohol. The pair almost had being in the same room down to a science. The little gestures they would use to communicate. Knowing how the other was going to react. What the other was thinking. What they felt. It all came so naturally, almost as if they had been two rivers that crossed into one.

And as she looked around once more to find everyone chatting quietly again, it brought her peace. A clear mind that could finally assess the situation. Give or take the fact that she had finally sobered up and the water helped, but still. The rebel base to her felt just that. A base of operations. Not a home.

After being on the run for so long fleeing from her husband and trading outposts within the Empire...nothing felt like home. Not anymore.

Could home be a person and not a place?

Cassian was her home. Kaytoo had become a part of it.

She couldn't fix on the hour, or the spot, or the look, or the words which laid the foundation. It was too long ago. Talia was in the middle before she knew it had begun. She only had to set things right and hope that Cassian would do the same.