— Aldhani was strangely tranquil. Even despite the constant, grueling cycle of the same chores, training techniques, watch rotations, and rations. Not to mention the tiring act of lurking under the disguise of Aldhani-born nomads & farmers as you awaited for the day of the heist. 'As long as it helped the cause.' You weren't sure if you genuinely thought that, or if it were a measly attempt at placating yourself.

Speaking of rotations, it happened to be your turn to keep watch. Which wasn't terrible. Sure, it made you miss your typical sleep schedule, and the uneven ground wasn't as comfortable as a hammock, but you couldn't complain about having some peaceful alone time among the calm surroundings.

It was dawn by now. One of the many blazing suns making its awaited debut in the sky; the atmosphere lightening & distant planets haphazardly reappearing. It also happened to be when your eyelids suddenly became too heavy.

Some necessary shut eye couldn't hurt, no?

You awoke to the feeling of a blade near the thin, exposed skin of your neck. Precariously placed a few inches away. Not enough to be immediate danger, but enough to allude to a threat.

"..And now everyone's dead," A low voice rasped out. Your eyelids fluttered open out of panic. Only to be met with an imposing taller figure hovering over your slumped form; piercing blue eyes studying you intently.

It was Arvel Skeen. Fellow Rebel, seasoned soldier (and prisoner, if the fireside hearsay wasn't all sheer folly), and honestly? A pain in your... backside. Never been on good terms with him. You tried to be. Alas, it always ended with the both of you back at each other's throats.

"You're lucky I didn't use my blaster," Arvel finally retracted the sharpened blade and resheathed it. He added a muttered complaint about how he didn't comprehend why Sartha kept you in rotation.

"Do you have a death wish for the whole damn camp?" He sneered. However, it was as if his gruff tone carried a hint of concern. Maybe that was just hopeful thinking.