#cryptographcr

[ 📱 — to: suri ]  if not me, then who?

           he didn’t like bothering those that worked in the archives. he was often too busy to be told that he was looking for a file that didn’t exist, and those archivists that were actually interested in doing their jobs were busy doing their jobs. unfortunately, this was not a situation that he could take care of on his own. talented though he was, he had no experience in trying to extract information from battle droids. ‘ excuse me, i was wondering if you might have a moment to help me with something. ‘

            ☆      rey shifts on her cot, the small bed uncomfortable in the night air as she sleeps fitfully --- dreams don’t cease to fester until they breed nightmares in her mind, and the unrest causes her limbs to be extra weary and brain to maintain a groggy fog. blinking, she lifts her head and rubs an eye, hardly having fallen into the gentle rest and instead being awoken again and again and again by the murk of her own mind. in her relief, though, she’s not being summoned by anything unpleasant --- rather, a friend.

SMALL THOUGH IT WAS, their base was home to important work. While the rest of the galaxy closed its eyes to the gathering storm, it seemed as if they alone could hear the rising wind, feel those first drops of rain; THEY ALONE PREPARED. Only time would tell if it might prove enough. 

Right now, though, she’d be content to find a single member of their coding team. A droid’s head ( in DESPERATE need of cracking ) sat uncomfortably against her hip, rattling with all the secrets the New Republic had to offer. It grew heavier by the minute, and with Aida and her team nowhere in sight, the Vice Admiral had no choice but to slam it down in front of someone else. 

“Hey, kid.” Her smile, while warm, wasn’t without a bit of mischief. 

𝑯𝑬𝑹 𝑳𝑰𝑭𝑬 𝑯𝑨𝑺 𝑩𝑬𝑬𝑵 𝑮𝑶𝑽𝑬𝑹𝑵𝑬𝑫 𝑩𝒀 ‘𝑻𝑯𝑬 𝑶𝑫𝑫𝑺’. she can talk lyrically of liberty and justice for hours - she does, and she means it too - but beneath it all beats a tactician’s heart. since childhood her life has been defined by process and deliberation; every decision has been made in military fashion, considered to a fault and executed only on her own mental assurance of a positive outcome. the commander and the woman are one and the same, and she has made the odds her friend, unlikely to - perhaps she’s INCAPABLE - ignore them.

that is not to say that d’acy’s decisions are made without empathy, and in fact this is a decision made with an overflow of it. barely a moment passes in suri’s company when AIDA too is not in the commander’s thoughts, and d’acy feels a keen responsibility for her dear friend’s girl that isn’t quite rivaled by many other members of the resistance. war and sacrifice are coexistent. the pair have been in the resistance since the time of its conception, and know as well as anyone how deep that union runs through their diminished unit. but d’acy won’t do it again, won’t risk it again, not with suri. for all she failed to give her, she owes her mother that, at least.

❝     ── I HAVE TO, SURI.    ❞ sincerity lines her brow. it’s rare that she will put her foot down, invoke her rank and position above rational argument, but it’s too important, too much, for her to allow it to be disregarded now. cruel to be kind, she supposes.  ❝     it’s too risky a mission. the odds are stacked against us, and i WON’T authorise it when they’re not in your favour.     ❞ 

      ☆                  “ gotta get control of it                               𝐰𝐡𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐧'𝐭 𝐈 𝐥𝐞𝐭 𝐠𝐨 𝐨𝐟 𝐢𝐭 ? ”