Warm puffs of condensed steam rose to float like smoke in the snowy stillness. Part comes billowing out of the worn old thermos of caf she kept cradled in her hands. The other half came chuffing out the young boy next to her for her own amusement. He tells her a story from another world about beasts that breathe smoke and ash. Breathing big puffs of exhaled air to mimic the beast. He's a good story teller and it's a moment of true happiness, sitting here next to her friend. A moment she feared will someday cease to be. Ghostboy has already been visiting less by now and there's an apprehensive wistfulness in the way he looks at her when they part.

Each night he looked at her like it might be the last.

"You're going to leave aren't you?" She asked quietly surprising herself. Ghostboy stopped mid huff and blinked at her. "I leave every night at high moon Tooka."

She smiled at the nickname but shook her head, "not just tonight, you're leaving for good aren't you?" She set down the thermos and reached into her pocket to finger the little pouch she had tucked away. She'd been planning to ask him later when the twin moons were both full and it would mean more but she's afraid there won't be enough time. His next words confirmed it.

"Yes I've been reassigned." She didn't ask him any questions, she knew he wouldn't give her any details. He was leaving her and that was all that mattered. Instead she produced the pouch out of her pocket. He glanced at it and his brow crinkled in confusion.

She asked the question she'd been avoiding, "Will I ever see you again?" His blue eyes were clear, so clear she could see the doubt shimmering in the depths of them. "I don't know," he answered quietly, honestly, Ghostboy hid things but he never lied. He shifted closer until their shoulders touched, a soft smile flitted across his lips, "but I hope so." His blue eyes gazed down into her own, "I would like to."

That was enough for her. She reached into the little pouch and pulled out a small knife. She'd borrowed it from the little chest her grandmother kept all the ceremonial items she'd secreted away for her grandchildren's dowry. The little ornamental knife glittered in the moonlight.

Rose took a deep breath and ran the blade of the knife over the top side of her wrist. She pressed down hard so it would scar. Ghostboy gasped in horror and clamped a hand over the blade, ripping it away. "What are you doing? Stop!"

The cut stung in the cold air but not as much as the tears threatening to spill over onto her cheeks. She swallowed them back and sat up straight.

"Here when two people have to separate for a long time, so long that they might forget what the other looks like, they mark themselves so they can find each other." Rose blushed and looked down at the beads of blood that were already clotting on her wrist. She was still too shy to say the truth, that marking ceremonies were how people promised themselves to each other, to say how her grandfather still proudly bore the little slash on his wrist as a mark of devotion. There would be plenty of time to find the right way to share that truth and feeling bubbling in her stomach that had made her bring the little knife in the first place.

Ghostboy considered for a moment before holding out his wrist to her. "I would be honored Tooka." His voice trembled slightly with his wrist as she took it in her hand. She made a deep nick in the skin and the boy winced at the pain. When she was done she reached back into the pouch and pulled out a small packet of glittering white dust. She took a pinch and rubbed it into her own mark before reaching and applying it to his. They glittered in the moonlight. She blushed and folded the packet back into her jacket. "They call it stardust, it's supposed to make them shimmer, so you can see them when they heal." The boy nodded solemnly as he looked down at the mark. Slowly a wide grin spread across his face and Rose held her breath as it bloomed. His cheeks glowed crimson in the cold air and his eyes glittered with a stardust all their own. He was beautiful when he smiled. She barely had time to blink before the boy threw his arms around her and pulled her into a tight embrace.

"Thank you." He whispered into her hair. The tears made good on their threat and tumbled over into his shirt. Rose wrapped her arms around the boy's slight frame tight as if she could hold him there in that moment. "Promise you'll come back?" She sniffed.

Ghostboy shifted to cup her face in his hands. He brushed the tears away with his thumbs. "I promise, whatever it takes, I'll find you again."

—

Her heart raced. She could feel it pounding in her ears like the roar of a just fixed engine revving her into a full blown panic. She tried to swallow, to delay the acceleration, but her mouth was dry. Water...she needed water- or more accurately she needed to get out of this room. Cool down, get away from this man who made her head run hot. Poe would be angry at her for bolting again. He didn't understand how painful memories where. How much she needed to keep them locked away. How the little bolts and rivets that held her together could expand and fail with stress. The man sitting in front of her didn't understand either, or perhaps he did. Perhaps that was why he was so eagerly unraveling her. Unscrewing all the little ways she had clamped the past shut out of the present. He had destroyed a star system, her sanity must be an easy break in comparison.

She looked down at the scar on his wrist. Her stomach twisted. Another imaginary bolt fell to the floor. A phantom ping as the figment ricocheted off the hallucination of the cold mineral. The false noise rang in her ears like the tinkling of a bell. A memory of a boyish grin flickered in her head as her eyes fell on the velvet still lips of the patiently waiting man in front of her. It was all so horribly familiar the way they dipped in the corners. She squeezed her eyes shut.

"Please don't go."

Rose opened her eyes and turned towards the source of the break in the silence. In the few moments she had shut the world out, General Hux had stood and maneuvered himself in front of the door. She scowled at him.

He ran a nervous hand through his hair. "I know what you're thinking..." he started cautiously.

Rose spat, "you don't know anything about me."

He grinned ruefully, "I know you have a habit of scampering away when I make you uncomfortable." He took a step towards her. "I'm sorry." He let his head hang remorsefully before bringing his gaze up to meet her own. "I've been- unpleasant." His face softened as he looked down at her. The traces of authority melted into a look that was dangerously similar to affection.

Rose could feel the tips of her ears pinking under the gaze. Annoyed at their betrayal, she looked away. "I'm not uncomfortable. I'm just—tired. I didn't sleep well." Why she was admitting this she hardly knew, he didn't deserved an excuse, but the General only nodded in reply. He crossed back towards the table and shuffled down to kneel on his knees beside her. Rose pulled herself back into the chair in surprise, drawing her own knees up against her chest. Even in this position he was so tall that he was nearly eye level.

"Interrogation is an exhausting endeavor, even if you're good at it." He smiled sheepishly and reached for the pack of cards. He slipped them out of the deck and set them on the table. "I admire your effort but you're not trained in it."

He took two cards and balanced them together on top of the table. Satisfied he continued until he had a neat row.

"Why give me the information then?" Rose watched as he carefully balanced a card on top of each of the little peaks. His delicate hands were well suited for the task. It was oddly relaxing watching him work. She could feel the tension ease out of her shoulders.

"So you would keep coming. I needed to talk with you." One side of the little structure fell. He huffed and began again.

Rose shook her head absently. "That's what I don't understand." She let her head rest on top on her knees. "What is it that you want from me? I'm no one. I'm just a mechanic."

He flashed her an indescribable look and sighed. As he exhaled the other side of the structure fluttered over. He grimaced down at the structural failure and cleared it out of the way to begin again. "I wanted to confirm something. I thought if I showed you— you would remember. I was mistaken."

Rose reached up for her medallion. The cool touch of the metal usually calmed her but now all she could think of, as the cool smelt brushed under her fingers, was ice. "What am I supposed to remember?"

The little row of stacked cards was now a delicate partition between them, General Hux gave her a small smile over the thin structure. "That I can't tell you."

"You'll have to figure it out on your own."

—

"Dreams huh?" The slicer considered as he handed Rose a wrench.

Rose frowned from under an old speeder and set to work undoing a bolt she had misplaced. "Yes Dee, or memories, either way they're killing me."

"Is that why you haven't g-gone back? Before Rose could motion for it he was already handing her a rag. Rose slid out from under the speeder and wiped the grease off her hands.

It had been three days since Hux had shown her the scar and just as he had predicted she was running away again. Well...was refusing to go back really running? Poe certainly seemed to think so. The lecture she had gotten that morning still rung in her ears like an anthem.

She nodded. "I just don't want to go back until I have something. I'm so close, last night I almost saw him."

"The ghost boy?" He grinned and caught the used rag that Rose threw at him. He placed in one of the flame proof bins lining the wall. "Are you sure you're not m-making him up? Maybe t-that General of your's is getting in your head. Maybe he's trying to d-distract you."

Rose untangled herself from the roller and stood to brush herself off. She hadn't told DJ about the dreams at first but when she finally had, the day before, he had listened. She'd half expected the slicer to dig at her, poke fun like Finn sometimes did but instead he had stayed silent and almost thoughtful. It felt strangely nice to be taken seriously. Rose shook her head at the suggestion. "Maybe but I don't think so. He feels real. The boy I'm seeing. I know it. I feel it. I wouldn't feel anything if there wasn't something there. Besides if he wanted to distract me to hide information why would he just give it up like that?"

DJ shrugged and leaned against the stack of crates he'd been previously sitting on. "I dunno Rosie, I'm not exactly officer m-material." He waited until she had gathered herself together and fell into step as she made her way across the maintenance bay. He scratched the stubble collecting under his chin as they walked. "What m-makes you think they're connected, yer dreams I mean? They could just be a fluke."

Rose considered this. "There's something about him, Hux, it's like if I squint a little I can see something there." She held her hands up like goggles around her eyes fishing up a chuckle from the old slicer.

He wiped the corners of his eyes. "You see your ghostboy?"

Rose nodded. "Yeah, it's odd, I can't remember him but I know him. It's like I'm forgetting something important. I just want to remember...not because he wants me to but because it's like there's a missing part of me out there somewhere. I want it back."

DJ considered and nodded. "Makes sense."

They reached the end of the hangar and rounded the corner. Sprinting up the hallway was Finn. Rose quickly crossed the short hallway between them to meet him halfway. "Finn what's going on."

Finn huffed, letting his arms lean forward on his knees to catch his breath. "Poe wanted me to come get you. It's Hux. He's just collapsed. They're taking him to the med bay."

Rose gasped and glanced over at the slicer still standing behind her. He waved her off with an exaggerated scoff and a small smile. Rose nodded back and turned back to Finn who had now gathered his breath enough to stand.

"Take me to him please." Soon the pair were jogging down the hall.

—

At first glance he looked deceptively fragile. Feather soft eyelashes glowing green like the wings of a butterfly fluttered with sleep behind the pools of bacta. Hair splayed around his face to brush against his features rendering them softer than their usual harsh angles. His chest expanded, lacy ribs embellishing the thinness of his frame, as the respirator cycled air into him. Yet there was strength there too, if you took the time for a second look. The suspended arms tensed wiry muscles in response to some unconscious stimulation. Veins embroidered themselves here or there in a sinewy pattern of little blue rivers but more pressing in the mind of Rose as she gazed up at the man she had been interrogating was the huge bruise that weeped under his left ribcage.

"How did I miss that?" She asked incredulously to no one in particular. Finn shrugged, "Apparently he got injured worse than we thought during the first interrogation. Rib broke and scraped dangerously close to the lung. Med droid says he should patch up with two days in the tank."

Rose sucked in a breath. "He seemed fine though." Finn gave her a slap on the back and chuckled. "Of course he did. Hux is a bastard. He's tough. The poster child for the First Order's desensitization training. Called him a cur. The guys in my platoon would joke that he'd gnaw though his own leg someday."

His face turned serious and he frowned, "They wanted all of us to be like Hux. They wanted us to win at any cost. That's why they had to lose. That's too high a price."

Rose nodded in agreement and echoed the sentiment as she stared back up at the man in the tank. The man who's only talents seemed to be pain and keeping secrets. "Yes it's too high...for anyone to pay."