I sighed and reminded him, “I have another year and half left at my fellowship, sir. “A great many things, my boy,” he whispered, leaning in close until the liquor on his breath filled my nostrils. “But in particular, I know we’ll do great things together.” I laughed as I took a sip and asked, “Oh? Do you know something I don’t?” He said, “To your bright future, Darwin,” before lifting it to his lips. He adopted that spellbinding smile as he accepted his drink, clinking his glass to mine. He stood by the balcony door, sounds of the endless urban center echoing, and flipped a switch to turn the translucent glass walls of my apartment to an opaque gray for privacy. He invited himself over for a drink one evening, staring down his nose at my meager abode on level 3204 as I poured amber liquid into a pair of fine Alderaanian rocks glasses. He stole me away from a prestigious fellowship at the Institute of Applied Science on Coruscant, finally persuading me to leave with one temptation I couldn’t resist. Obviously the character and setting don’t belong to me.ĭirector Krennic-never simply Orson-was an unforgiving man to work under, but in time I found I rather enjoyed his demanding demeanor. It’s Star Wars day, so indulge me some fan fiction.
