so that to the sun I might soar and sing
Morning comes, and she wakes before him. Not surprising, given he lives on spaceships and she's been waking at dawn for years. And excellent sex or no sex, moving to another world or not, she still has to run.
He stirs when she slips out of her bed, but never wakes as she dresses, writes a note, and quietly shuts the door.
~
The shower doesn't wake him, either.
~
Kicking the bed and going 'hey, Han, get up' in very clear Russian seems to work, though.
~
The rest of the information is filled out, him typing and calling out questions as she studies Aurebesh and the phrases she needs to actually know (this is after breakfast, and at his comment that she's eating like he used to, she merely looks at him and takes another bite). Then clothes - not many, similar to what she wears already, plain and dark and practical - and before they go she looks at herself in the mirror.
Her name had looked strange, in that foreign script, but for a moment - that moment of looking at the green-eyed, dark-haired young woman, with her slightly odd pants and boots, top and jacket - it seems to fit.
She can't say when exactly that moment fades, but she knows it will be back.
~
(resting in her bag are her models, her MiG-21PF, her Soyuz, and the RZ-1 A-wing interceptor.
she couldn't leave them.)
~
Han walks her through Home One and he's right; the atmosphere is heightened with tension and suppressed excitement and a building energy. She's felt it before, but mostly is only grateful that it means that barely anyone glances her way.
He takes her to Commander Farrell, Jake Farrell, who looks older, tired, and ex-retired military, and when Esfir and the Commander are introduced, Han has the air of a man who is only resisting saying I have a present for you because he knows the petite woman by his side is wearing boots and will have no moral qualms about kicking him in the ankle. She keeps her back straight and salutes. Habit may die hard, this is true, but it never hurts in giving the impression that she's had training.
When one is under five foot, slender, and beautiful, everything helps in getting people to consider you competant.
~
And, yes, she shows off when Farrell takes her out flying, but only in the strictly defined and unspoken boundaries that all good pilots who have survived graduating know. Again, she knows what she is doing; she has the training, she has the instincts, she isn't just a pretty face from a bar and Han isn't doing this because the sex is (brilliant) good.
Not to mention that she could no more stop flying for the sheer joy of it than any bird back on Earth.
~
She gets a quiet nod of approval, a murmured comment of you need more experience in this craft, and is assigned to Green Squadron. Green Leader is Arvel Crynyd, who is intense, but the room feels emptier once he leaves. She is now Green Six, wing-partner to Green Five, who is cheerful and redhaired and called Kayla Udonin. Esfir stores her pack in their room, and then turns straight back around to practice with the rest of the squadron.
~
There are no words to describe how much she has missed flying with others like this.
None.
~
When, finally, they are dismissed, she only just manages to get out of her jumpsuit before collapsing on the bed. Tomorrow promises the same, and the day after; study, drill, practice. Practice formation, practice dog-fighting, practice flying until the call comes.
It feels good, working like this. She hasn't for years.
It feels like home.
And (the now slightly demoted) Flight Officer Yazycova falls asleep with a smile.
He stirs when she slips out of her bed, but never wakes as she dresses, writes a note, and quietly shuts the door.
~
The shower doesn't wake him, either.
~
Kicking the bed and going 'hey, Han, get up' in very clear Russian seems to work, though.
~
The rest of the information is filled out, him typing and calling out questions as she studies Aurebesh and the phrases she needs to actually know (this is after breakfast, and at his comment that she's eating like he used to, she merely looks at him and takes another bite). Then clothes - not many, similar to what she wears already, plain and dark and practical - and before they go she looks at herself in the mirror.
Her name had looked strange, in that foreign script, but for a moment - that moment of looking at the green-eyed, dark-haired young woman, with her slightly odd pants and boots, top and jacket - it seems to fit.
She can't say when exactly that moment fades, but she knows it will be back.
~
(resting in her bag are her models, her MiG-21PF, her Soyuz, and the RZ-1 A-wing interceptor.
she couldn't leave them.)
~
Han walks her through Home One and he's right; the atmosphere is heightened with tension and suppressed excitement and a building energy. She's felt it before, but mostly is only grateful that it means that barely anyone glances her way.
He takes her to Commander Farrell, Jake Farrell, who looks older, tired, and ex-retired military, and when Esfir and the Commander are introduced, Han has the air of a man who is only resisting saying I have a present for you because he knows the petite woman by his side is wearing boots and will have no moral qualms about kicking him in the ankle. She keeps her back straight and salutes. Habit may die hard, this is true, but it never hurts in giving the impression that she's had training.
When one is under five foot, slender, and beautiful, everything helps in getting people to consider you competant.
~
And, yes, she shows off when Farrell takes her out flying, but only in the strictly defined and unspoken boundaries that all good pilots who have survived graduating know. Again, she knows what she is doing; she has the training, she has the instincts, she isn't just a pretty face from a bar and Han isn't doing this because the sex is (brilliant) good.
Not to mention that she could no more stop flying for the sheer joy of it than any bird back on Earth.
~
She gets a quiet nod of approval, a murmured comment of you need more experience in this craft, and is assigned to Green Squadron. Green Leader is Arvel Crynyd, who is intense, but the room feels emptier once he leaves. She is now Green Six, wing-partner to Green Five, who is cheerful and redhaired and called Kayla Udonin. Esfir stores her pack in their room, and then turns straight back around to practice with the rest of the squadron.
~
There are no words to describe how much she has missed flying with others like this.
None.
~
When, finally, they are dismissed, she only just manages to get out of her jumpsuit before collapsing on the bed. Tomorrow promises the same, and the day after; study, drill, practice. Practice formation, practice dog-fighting, practice flying until the call comes.
It feels good, working like this. She hasn't for years.
It feels like home.
And (the now slightly demoted) Flight Officer Yazycova falls asleep with a smile.