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chapter two: difficult decisions
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EV-1 FINDS HER ON the abandoned rooftop of the academy, sitting with her feet dangling off the edge. Technically, the top of the building is off-limits to academy residents, but Indira had managed to coax Antilles into giving her a spare key months ago. The roof had become a place of solace for her; somewhere to look at the stars and remind herself, occasionally, that there was a great big universe waiting outside of the basement she kept herself confined to.

The small droid beeps lowly, alerting Indira to its presence, and she gives it a wan smile. "Hey, Evie," she says in greeting, pausing to listen to the droid's reply in binary. "Yeah, I'm fine. Just needed some air."

She watches the droid hover in the air just over the ledge, so they're nearly face to face. It gives Indira a chance to study her handiwork. EV-1 is a disastrous masterpiece made up of a mess of different pieces of silver and bronze scrap metal. Once, the droid had been nothing more than a discarded dysfunctional supervisor droid, scrapped and sold off for different parts. But, with a little tinkering, Indira had managed to make use of her remaining pieces and transform her into a hybrid bot. The modified EV-1 unit is roughly the size of Indira's head, with built-in repulsors so it can hover above ground. Its body is crafted out of spare scraps of sheet metal that have been painted white, but much of the paint has been scraped away to reveal silver and bronze beneath it. To top it all off, a singular black eyeball adorns the droid's face and a small antenna sticks off the tip of its head.

No real purpose has been programmed to EV-1, save for the sole responsibility of being Indira's friend — and yes, she is aware of how pathetic that is. But EV-1 also serves the unique purpose of keeping Indira functioning. That means reminding her to eat, to bathe, to sleep — all of the important things that Indira would otherwise be inclined to forget.

"I'm not too close to the edge," Indira scoffs, rolling her eyes when the droid warns her against sitting on the ledge of the building. "What are you — my mother?"

EV-1 doesn't respond, so Indira talks for her. "No, you're not my mother," she mutters, closing her eyes as her head starts to swim. "Because my mother is dead."

Four years ago, on a peaceful diplomatic mission for the New Republic senate, Jana Beren had been a passenger on a transport ship that was apprehended by the First Order. None of the passengers aboard the ship had been armed and they were slaughtered before the ship was blown to smithereens, leaving hardly a trace of evidence behind. As a girl, Indira had hoped that her mother would somehow miraculously return to her, but that hope had died a long time ago. She no longer had use for such delusions.

Hope, she sneers at the thought of the general's words. What good is hope for a better future if you've got no one left to share it with?

Tilting her head backwards, Indira squints as she watches the sun start to dip lower and lower until her eyes can't stand the burn. She would have to go back to the lab soon and pack all her things up. Although, in truth, there was nothing truly worth keeping aside from a few books. The precious few items she did value could be found on her person: her mother's necklace, EV-1, and the microchip containing her research findings. This time tomorrow, she would be on the streets. Gods only know what she'll do after that.

Groaning with frustration, Indira kicks her legs out over the ledge. "What are we going to do, Evie?"

EV-1 beeps at her unhelpfully.

"No, I'm not going back to the general," she replies stubbornly.

The droid lets out another string of frustrated beeps and whirs.

"Evie, I can't," she says forcefully, turning away from the roof's edge to scramble to her feet. "I'm not going to become a soldier who mindlessly marches to Organa's fife. You already know how I feel about politicians. I don't want any part of it."

Indira makes her way towards the rooftop's door, EV-1 following behind her dutifully and beeping in complaint all the way. "Where will we go?" Indira asks. "I don't know. Yavin, maybe. Or Bespin. Whatever ship grants me passage, I'll take. But I'm not staying here and I won't be going with the general. I'm serious! Nothing will change my mind about that —"

She doesn't get to finish that thought, interrupted by the sound of another voice talking. Indira freezes in place and the hair on the back of her neck stands up. The sound quality is muffled, crackling ever so slightly, but Indira would know that voice anywhere.

"Thank you, thank you," the woman says, pausing for applause. "If I might have your silence and attention for just a few moments, I have some brief words I'd like to share with you."

Indira knows this speech by heart; can recite it in perfect time, cadence, and rhythm if she wishes to do so. Her hand slips away from the door handle as she turns around, eyes wide as she looks at the hologram her droid is projecting. The quality of the image is dim and grainy, but Indira is still able to make out the female figure focused in the projection; a young woman with dark hair, brown eyes, and a sweet smile. Immediately, Indira feels her necklace grow warm against her skin, pulsing gently around her neck, and she sinks to the ground with her back pressed up against the door in dismay as she watches the tape play out.

"Today," the woman says, "you as a people have chosen the future instead of the past; freedom instead of oppression; liberty instead of tyranny — today is a great milestone in what will be a golden age. A New Republic and a new dawn that will shine as a beacon of hope to all beings throughout the galaxy."

If she were to count, Indira knows that it would take exactly six-and-a-half seconds on the dot for the applause to die down and for the woman to begin speaking again. She knows this as a fact because she has counted it herself at least a hundred times.

"As your senator," the woman continues. "I vow to uphold the principles of equality, prosperity, and justice for all. Let it be known that the days of fear and oppression are over. The Galactic Empire is no more; long live the New Republic!"

More cheering, more shouting. Indira can faintly see the hologram waving and smiling triumphantly with one hand, while the other rests protectively on a stomach that is flat; not yet starting to swell with an unborn child.

A daughter.

"Let us be bold in our futures," the woman finishes, her voice softer. "Let us be brave in the face of adversity and opposition. Change is never easy, but that does not mean that it is not worth striving towards. We will only build this new world if we are willing to do whatever it takes to secure it for our children and their children and their children's children. Today, you have all risen to the occasion and chosen the light. Let us hope that those who come after us will make the same choice as well."

Each word feels like a stinging rebuke, singling Indira out personally and painting a target across her forehead — a preposterous feeling, she knows, since the speech had been given decades ago — but she feels it nonetheless.

"Thank you," the woman says once more. "I cannot express my gratitude to all of you, but I will do my best to repay your confidence in me through public service. I, Jana Beren, promise not to fail or disappoint you. Thank you for entrusting this responsibility to me. It is an honor and a privilege to stand before you today. Long live the New Republic!"

The cheering resumes once more after that; a standing ovation, by the sound of it, before Indira decides she's heard enough. "Evie," she says sharply. "Cut the tape."

The droid obeys, shutting the projection off and humming softly. Indira brings a hand up to her cheeks, surprised to find water there. She wipes her eyes quickly, rubbing the tears away before glaring at her droid.

"That was a dirty trick," Indira says accusingly, sniffling a few more times.

EV-1 just whirs in response, giving a rather unapologetic apology.

"Well, I ought to have disassembled you years ago," Indira grumbles, running a hand through her ever-messy mane of tangled hair.

The holovid had been from her mother's senate swearing in ceremony. Senator Jana Beren had been twenty-two years old and fearless at the time; unafraid of anything that the future possibly could have held for her. Let us be bold in our futures, she had said. Let us be brave in the face of adversity and opposition.

Her bravery and boldness had earned her a place amongst the stars; forever suspended in time and space. Indira likes to think of her as swimming in moonlight and stardust, carried on through space and time by the currents of the atmosphere, but she knows that death is never so peaceful.

What would she think of you? A cruel voice in her head asks. Do you think she'd be proud of her daughter? The girl who threw her life away.

"I'm not throwing my life away," she mutters through gritted teeth. "I'm not."

But you are, aren't you? The voice continues, and somewhere deep down inside herself, Indira knows that awful little voice is right. She had made plenty of excuses for herself, but at the end of the day she would be nothing but a coward, destined to waste her life on the sidelines instead of avenging her mother's death and dealing justice to the ones that killed her.

That, in itself, would be more disgraceful to her mother's life and memory than anything else Indira could possibly do. Damn politicians and their games; this was personal. And if Indira wanted to get justice for her mother, she would have to do it herself — even if that means joining Organa's Resistance.

Her head falls back as she comes to this realization, looking upward towards the sky. Daylight is already beginning to fade as the golden afternoon hues fade into shades of deep orange and red. "Sunset," Indira mutters, remembering the general's words from earlier that day.

Balling her fists with determination, she pushes the door on the rooftop open, ready to return to the basement one last time to gather her belongings. She blows a loose tendril of brown hair out of her eyes.

"I am not," she says determinedly, yanking the door open, "throwing my life away."

THE LAST COLORS of sunset are bleeding across the sky when Indira approaches the only Resistance ship in the academy's hanger. A duffle bag filled with her scarce belongings is slung over her left shoulder, while EV-1 hovers above her right. As she gets closer to the transport, Indira studies it critically. The ship itself is some sort of hybrid vessel that appears to be made up of parts from several other ships; a strange sort of patchwork vehicle that does not make her feel particularly safe just from looking at it.

The strap on her bag digs into her shoulder sharply, so Indira shifts the weight to a more balanced position. With every step she takes towards the transport, she can see three humanoid figures growing closer. One is a gold-plated protocol droid, the second is a dark-haired man wearing a brown leather jacket, and the third is General Organa herself.

Feeling slightly self-conscious, Indira slows her pace as she approaches, drawing back in hesitation. She ducks behind an empty X-wing, hiding for a moment to listen to their conversation. The voices of the trio echo around the hanger, bouncing off the walls so that Indira can hear them from her hiding spot several paces away.

"Princess Leia — I mean, General Organa," speaks the droid, his voice tinny and metallic. "I've come to inform you that it is now officially past sundown. The crew is awaiting your presence to depart for D'Qar."

"Thank you, Threepio," General Organa sighs.

"Is she coming?" A third voice asks, belonging to the man who'd been standing next to the general.

"I guess not," the older woman replies, tone filled with defeat. "It was foolish to hope that she would, but I was almost certain she would change her mind."

"Damn," the man mutters, setting his hands on his hips. "We could have used another technician."

Indira's breath catches in her throat as she realizes that they're talking about her. Steeling herself mentally, she prepares to reveal herself from her spot behind the X-wing. She couldn't hide from this any longer. This was the path Indira had chosen for herself and there would be no turning back from it.

"General, I must insist that we depart soon," the droid interrupts. "We're already running behind schedule."

"Thank you, Threepio," General Organa replies, sharper this time. "Go inside. I'm right behind you."

Indira knows that this is her last chance, so she squeezes her eyes shut tightly before stepping out into open view. She can see that the droid has already boarded the ship, with the general and the other man following closely after it.

"Wait!" Indira shouts, voice echoing throughout the hangar.

General Organa and her companion both spin around quickly, eyes narrowing on her frame as she approaches. A pleasant look of surprise covers the general's face, while the man beside her breaks into a wide grin. The closer she gets, Indira can see that he is handsome; dark hair, tanned skin, brown eyes, and a stubble covered jawline. Still, she knows well enough that it's often the handsome ones who cause the most trouble, so she makes a mental note to steer clear of that one.

Walking quickly to close the distance between them, Indira approaches the general and raises a brow at the older woman. "General Organa," she greets her, slightly breathless.

General Organa looks down at her and a smile crosses her weathered face. "Changed your mind, then?"

Indira nearly scowls. "I didn't change it for you."

She was doing this for her mother and her mother only; not for anyone else. Even if she became a Resistance soldier, Indira would be damned before she let herself become a puppet for propaganda. That would never be her.

"Well, regardless, we'll be glad to have you on board, Beren," Organa replies, her eyes dancing with faint amusement. She claps a hand on Indira's shoulder, squeezing lightly. "Welcome to the Resistance."

a/n: a quick word — if you're an older reader, you might have noticed that i changed indira's mom's name to jana. i was looking at greek mythology inspired names and the god janus is the god of beginnings/endings as well as transitions and he represents both the past and the future so it felt like a fitting name for the role that indira's mom plays in her story. also: janus is often portrayed as having two faces, which could possibly be meaningful ... 🧐 just some food 4 thought. BUT: if you see her old name anywhere, please let me know so i can fix it. otherwise, that's enough of me being fake intellectual™️ and i hope you enjoy the rest of the book. SEE YOU NEXT CHAPTER!

p.s. i can't draw for shit and trying to make this with photoshop was an absolute failure, so this is the best i can do BUT if you want more of a ~visual~ on what EV-1 is supposed to look like: i imagine her to have a head that's similar to BB-8, but with a single eyeball; her body is made up of scrap metal from an EV unit, so it's mostly bronze/silver; and then she flies around like EVE (who inspired her character) from WALL-E. also she's smol 🥺 like the size of a basketball or so. a baby bot!!! 🤖

EDITED ON:
08.06.19