Order 66

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut passed out early this evening. The masters are relentless in his martial training, never allowing him to decide all is 'good enough'. That, on top of taking on training the younger acolytes despite his protests leads to quite a lot of bruising and a worn-out Chirrut at the end of the day.

Most would say this is a good thing.

The midnight bells had just chimed when Chirrut sits bolt-upright in his bed, screaming loud enough to wake the dead.

Comments

[iprotectyou]

Baze guides Chirrut to their room before the older Guardian responds, leading the younger one to the bed should he wish to sit down.

"I know they're not," Baze says eventually. "Traitors are often declared when someone comes into power, and that's what's happened. Their deaths were senseless."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut sits down with a thump, frowning. All of this, all of the pain and confusion and worry... Senseless.

That almost hurts worse than the deaths themselves. All of that should mean something other than a political coup.

"Do you think they'll come to the temple? The Emperor's new troops?"

[iprotectyou]

Baze lets loose an explosive sigh. "I don't know," he admits, rubbing his temples. "I sure hope not. What will we do if they come? They'll probably try to kill us."

[idontneedluck]

"Probably." Chirrut agrees, his brow still creased. "But we cannot leave. Who would keep the lore, or protect the kyber, now that the Jedi are..." He leaves the last word off, because it's just too new.

"Pilgrims will still come. This new Empire will not change that."

[iprotectyou]

"Chirrut," Baze says, kneeling before his friend on the bed. The older Guardian takes the younger one's hands in his own. "We should leave. The kyber..."

He sighs again, gnawing on the inside of his cheek. "I don't want to risk your life."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut frees one of his hands to feel the expression on Baze's face, his touch feather-light.

"Baze..." There is heavy reluctance in his tone. Reluctance, and stubbornness, and pride...

"If you will it." And his voice has gone hollow. He doesn't know what the right answer is, and right now Baze is his strength. "But I do not know who I am, if I am not a Guardian."

[iprotectyou]

Baze lowers his head, pressing his cheek into Chirrut's hand. "Yes. I know. If we leave, if we go to the Outer Rim territories, we might be safe," he says, his words halting and slow, as he chews over the problem. "But we'd be adrift. We'd have abandoned our posts. I don't know what to do."

[idontneedluck]

"I... I would stay." Chirrut admits, lowly. "I know the danger, and I would not risk you either. But this is our home, Baze. This is our home, and these are our people. I would not abandon them out of fear."

[iprotectyou]

"I won't leave you," Baze says fiercely, jerking his head up. His words are clipped and sharp, and drop one by one, like key pins in a lock. "They'll have to pry your hand out of my cold, dead fingers."

[idontneedluck]

Chirrut shudders at the mental image that brings up, his grip suddenly like steel around Baze's hand.

"If it does come to that, we will have joined the Force together." He cannot imagine surviving without Baze at his side. It just seems... wrong, after all of these years. "I can't just let you go wandering off on your own."

[iprotectyou]

Baze clings to Chirrut's hand, grasping at the warm palm and cooler fingers. "Then I'll face this threat by your side. Whatever may come, we'll see to it together."