Hoth. In his wildest dreams, Gale never could have imagined a place that was so cold. Sure, Alderaan had its fair share of chilly nights and biting winters, but nothing so intense as what they saw here. The base was even carved into a glacier, a world of white and blues so pristine he sometimes wondered how he could even look at it without squinting. It almost made him miss the layer of dust that covered their little town.
Almost.
But then he would remind himself that there was nothing left to miss, and refocus on the task at hand. Sometimes that would mean cleaning his weapon and restocking so he wouldn’t be caught unprepared, should the Empire find them. Sometimes that meant discussing logistics with some of the pilots, debating new tactics to counter AT-ATs or the newest TIE designs with the frigid winds battering their wings. Sometimes it meant coordinating with Katniss and the rest of his own squad, ensuring that they were all at the top of their game and ready to face whatever the Empire had waiting for them for their next deployment. Other times, it was a simple call to his family, safe on Yavin 4.
Gale considered himself lucky that today, he could distract himself with something far more appealing: a hot, steaming cup of soup from the mess. It was hardly the best thing he’d ever tasted - military cuisine, he’d heard others saying, was nothing compared to a good, home-cooked meal - but it was better than steeling himself against the cold and forcing himself to ignore the way his fingers slowly started going numb.
On the other hand, he wasn’t the only person who’d had the same idea. The mess hall was crowded as ever, but Gale didn’t hesitate, joining the line to claim his bowl while scouting the hall for a free seat. They were few and far between, so by the time his food was in his hands, he had little choice but to claim the first chair he found, only pausing to look at his lunch companions after he’d already swallowed the first spoonful - and when he did, his heart skipped a beat.
There was a face he thought he’d never seen again. As far as he’d known, she had died with the rest of their planet, just another life he’d failed to save. His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, turning his relief at having a warm meal into something more like a scowl as old waves of guilt crashed into him again, making it hard to breathe.
Madge tried to forget that she escaped. She was plagued with the nightmares of her parents not being able to escape, of the innocent people and her friends. She kept a low profile on Hoth, choosing to close herself off rather than look into the eyes of her fellow survivors and the other rebels.
She was able to help in little ways, mostly through studying. Absorbed in her reading, she hadn't noticed that the seat across from her was now occupied. Not until she heard her name.
Madge stopped what she was doing, heart skipping a beat as she recognized the voice. Her own brow furrowed as she looked up from her nearly untouched meal, eyes wide. "Hawthorne?"
“Kriffing hells,” he muttered in disbelief, forgetting his meal as he stared shamelessly. It really was her. A million questions raced through his mind, each one fighting for priority, each one begging to be asked first. It left Gale reeling, not sure what to say, and wondering if there was anything to be said at all. They hadn’t been friends. He’d only known her through Katniss and their (technically illegal) business practices, from the few times she’d opened the door instead of her father.
They hadn’t gotten along, even though she and Katniss were friends. He hadn’t wanted to get along with her, and Gale didn’t necessarily feel all that guilty about it, but now?
Things were a bit more complicated now. Now, they were two of only eight hundred known survivors from their entire planet. Now, he wondered if he should at least give her a chance, knowing that they were both refugees from a place they could never return to, and, apparently, both helping with the rebellion.
“I didn’t know you made it out,” Gale said finally, voice deliberately kept flat to hide any hint of conflicting emotion. “What are you doing here? I never took you for the rebellious type.”
Katniss was Madge's only true friend... Though Madge had kept the company of many others, it was easier to keep to herself. And her friendship with Katniss helped her do that- they kept to themselves, in each others company. Gale was only someone she had seen around and had met through Katniss.
Someone she decidedly did not get along with. Not back home anyways.
This was home now, however, and she had to stop thinking otherwise. She tapped her finger on the table as she offered him a sad smile. "I was one of the lucky few," she offered half-heartedly. But at the comment about her being rebellious, she only offered him a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing like being displaced from home to fuel more anger towards the Empire... I'm glad you made it out as well."
“I don’t remember seeing any other ships,” Gale said under his breath, brow furrowed. There had been plenty of Imperial ships, of course, but he didn’t remember seeing any other Alderaanian vessels when they’d made their escape. Then again, they could have easily hidden among the destruction, just like they’d done with his own.
At her comment, he shook his head in dismay. “Tell me about it. Even Rory was ready to jump right into the Rebellion.” His younger brother had insisted that if Prim could help out, so could he, but Gale and his mother buy it. Rory had only backed down when Gale suggested that he take on some training on Yavin 4, to protect their mother and younger siblings, and even then he’d looked disappointed when Gale left for Hoth without him.
Using his spoon, still untouched by the quickly-cooling soup, Gale pointed at the book Madge held, carefully balanced so she could eat and read all at once. “So what’s that for? I didn’t realize anyone had the luxury of reading books nowadays.”
Falling back into the old rhythm was surprisingly easy. Though as soon as the words left his mouth, he wondered if he should regret it. They had a common enemy, and no one here had a lot of spare time to relax. Why should Madge be any different? Her status, just like Gale’s, had been all but erased when their home planet had been destroyed. It shouldn’t matter here, and yet… old habits died hard.
Everything was a blur and it was only by some miracle that she'd escaped. Madge couldn't say just how she escaped- she didn't necessarily remember herself. The sad smile remained as he continued, mentioning how his brother wanted to jump into the Rebellion as well. This war would make adults out of children who weren't ready to face such things.
The jab about her book and having the "luxury" of reading, the smile waned and she had something more of a pinched look. Marking the page, she closed the book to allow an easier view of the title. A Practical Look at Command and Control Centers. "Research."
There was no way Madge would be on the front lines, but having her behind the scenes helping with Rebel Intelligence was the most help she could be.
“Looking to join rebel command, Undersee?” Gale asked incredulously, eyebrows raised as he finally shoveled some of the soup into his mouth. Unsurprisingly, it tasted just as bland as usual. Nothing like army food to make him miss home. His mother could take even the most meager options and turn it into a dish worth bragging about. Idly he wondered if he should have tried learning more of her recipes before leaving.
Too little, too late, of course. There were spices native to Alderaan that none of them would ever taste again, so what good would it have done? Besides, Gale hadn’t joined the alliance to cook.
“Never figured you for the commanding type,” he continued, watching the soup churn in his bowl. “So you’re still in training, then?”
It wasn’t meant to sound condescending, just as his earlier comment hadn’t been meant to insult, even if that was how their old relationship would color it. He’d simply been working with the higher-ups a lot lately, working out logistics and weapons tests. They needed to find a way to get rid of the Death Star once and for all, and they knew Gale had a personal stake in it. If anyone could find a way, they figured it could be him.
The less Madge thought about Alderaan, the better she managed to cope. She hated that she was so weak minded that merely the thought of home broke her. And with Gale here, it was even more difficult to push those thoughts further back in her mind. She pursed her lips and watched him churn the soup in his bowl. Her own meal was now long forgotten, though she didn’t have much of an appetite anymore.
“It’s the most help I can offer, I wouldn’t exactly excel out in the field.”
She glanced away from him and out into the room of people, her lips turning into a frown. “Hopefully I’ll be done with my training soon- a couple more weeks, they’re saying.”
“Anyone can be a soldier with the right training,” Gale replied, keeping his expression carefully neutral as he took another bite. The same, of course, did not apply to command positions. Not everyone had the stomach to lead, and even fewer had judgment good enough to do it well. Loathe as he was to admit it, Madge’s position on Alderaan may have given her exactly what was needed to pull it off.
Still, he never would have expected her to take an active role in the rebellion. He’d have figured she’d hide away somewhere far away from the worst of the war, where she could hole up and try to forget everything that had happened. It would have been easy, being the only surviving member of her family.
But Gale knew if he’d been in her shoes, he might have taken the Emperor head on, all by himself. And again he remembered that things weren’t that simple.
“Well,” he said, bowing his head sardonically, “congratulations in advance, Commander-in-Training. Before you know it, you’ll be in charge of your own squadron. Do them a favor and try not to get them killed.”
"But not anyone can be the soldier needed, despite training."
Madge knew she didn't have the composition to remain useful in the field. Spy work, perhaps. But even that was questionable. Leading others, however, was something she was bit more at home with- despite her quiet demeanor. The scorn and mockery of her didn't go unnoticed- her eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
"Mmm. Don't be too bitter, Gale. I'm sure once I'm through with training you won't ever have to see me again," she assured him, her tone soft but equally bitter.
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Almost.
But then he would remind himself that there was nothing left to miss, and refocus on the task at hand. Sometimes that would mean cleaning his weapon and restocking so he wouldn’t be caught unprepared, should the Empire find them. Sometimes that meant discussing logistics with some of the pilots, debating new tactics to counter AT-ATs or the newest TIE designs with the frigid winds battering their wings. Sometimes it meant coordinating with Katniss and the rest of his own squad, ensuring that they were all at the top of their game and ready to face whatever the Empire had waiting for them for their next deployment. Other times, it was a simple call to his family, safe on Yavin 4.
Gale considered himself lucky that today, he could distract himself with something far more appealing: a hot, steaming cup of soup from the mess. It was hardly the best thing he’d ever tasted - military cuisine, he’d heard others saying, was nothing compared to a good, home-cooked meal - but it was better than steeling himself against the cold and forcing himself to ignore the way his fingers slowly started going numb.
On the other hand, he wasn’t the only person who’d had the same idea. The mess hall was crowded as ever, but Gale didn’t hesitate, joining the line to claim his bowl while scouting the hall for a free seat. They were few and far between, so by the time his food was in his hands, he had little choice but to claim the first chair he found, only pausing to look at his lunch companions after he’d already swallowed the first spoonful - and when he did, his heart skipped a beat.
There was a face he thought he’d never seen again. As far as he’d known, she had died with the rest of their planet, just another life he’d failed to save. His eyebrows furrowed in disbelief, turning his relief at having a warm meal into something more like a scowl as old waves of guilt crashed into him again, making it hard to breathe.
“Undersee?”
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She was able to help in little ways, mostly through studying. Absorbed in her reading, she hadn't noticed that the seat across from her was now occupied. Not until she heard her name.
Madge stopped what she was doing, heart skipping a beat as she recognized the voice. Her own brow furrowed as she looked up from her nearly untouched meal, eyes wide. "Hawthorne?"
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They hadn’t gotten along, even though she and Katniss were friends. He hadn’t wanted to get along with her, and Gale didn’t necessarily feel all that guilty about it, but now?
Things were a bit more complicated now. Now, they were two of only eight hundred known survivors from their entire planet. Now, he wondered if he should at least give her a chance, knowing that they were both refugees from a place they could never return to, and, apparently, both helping with the rebellion.
“I didn’t know you made it out,” Gale said finally, voice deliberately kept flat to hide any hint of conflicting emotion. “What are you doing here? I never took you for the rebellious type.”
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Someone she decidedly did not get along with. Not back home anyways.
This was home now, however, and she had to stop thinking otherwise. She tapped her finger on the table as she offered him a sad smile. "I was one of the lucky few," she offered half-heartedly. But at the comment about her being rebellious, she only offered him a shrug of her shoulders. "Nothing like being displaced from home to fuel more anger towards the Empire... I'm glad you made it out as well."
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At her comment, he shook his head in dismay. “Tell me about it. Even Rory was ready to jump right into the Rebellion.” His younger brother had insisted that if Prim could help out, so could he, but Gale and his mother buy it. Rory had only backed down when Gale suggested that he take on some training on Yavin 4, to protect their mother and younger siblings, and even then he’d looked disappointed when Gale left for Hoth without him.
Using his spoon, still untouched by the quickly-cooling soup, Gale pointed at the book Madge held, carefully balanced so she could eat and read all at once. “So what’s that for? I didn’t realize anyone had the luxury of reading books nowadays.”
Falling back into the old rhythm was surprisingly easy. Though as soon as the words left his mouth, he wondered if he should regret it. They had a common enemy, and no one here had a lot of spare time to relax. Why should Madge be any different? Her status, just like Gale’s, had been all but erased when their home planet had been destroyed. It shouldn’t matter here, and yet… old habits died hard.
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The jab about her book and having the "luxury" of reading, the smile waned and she had something more of a pinched look. Marking the page, she closed the book to allow an easier view of the title. A Practical Look at Command and Control Centers. "Research."
There was no way Madge would be on the front lines, but having her behind the scenes helping with Rebel Intelligence was the most help she could be.
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Too little, too late, of course. There were spices native to Alderaan that none of them would ever taste again, so what good would it have done? Besides, Gale hadn’t joined the alliance to cook.
“Never figured you for the commanding type,” he continued, watching the soup churn in his bowl. “So you’re still in training, then?”
It wasn’t meant to sound condescending, just as his earlier comment hadn’t been meant to insult, even if that was how their old relationship would color it. He’d simply been working with the higher-ups a lot lately, working out logistics and weapons tests. They needed to find a way to get rid of the Death Star once and for all, and they knew Gale had a personal stake in it. If anyone could find a way, they figured it could be him.
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“It’s the most help I can offer, I wouldn’t exactly excel out in the field.”
She glanced away from him and out into the room of people, her lips turning into a frown. “Hopefully I’ll be done with my training soon- a couple more weeks, they’re saying.”
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Still, he never would have expected her to take an active role in the rebellion. He’d have figured she’d hide away somewhere far away from the worst of the war, where she could hole up and try to forget everything that had happened. It would have been easy, being the only surviving member of her family.
But Gale knew if he’d been in her shoes, he might have taken the Emperor head on, all by himself. And again he remembered that things weren’t that simple.
“Well,” he said, bowing his head sardonically, “congratulations in advance, Commander-in-Training. Before you know it, you’ll be in charge of your own squadron. Do them a favor and try not to get them killed.”
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Madge knew she didn't have the composition to remain useful in the field. Spy work, perhaps. But even that was questionable. Leading others, however, was something she was bit more at home with- despite her quiet demeanor. The scorn and mockery of her didn't go unnoticed- her eyes narrowed and lips pursed.
"Mmm. Don't be too bitter, Gale. I'm sure once I'm through with training you won't ever have to see me again," she assured him, her tone soft but equally bitter.