Chapters (57)
- Cover
- Doctor Aphra
- DRAMATIS PERSONAE
- SCENE 1
- SCENE 2
- SCENE 3
- SCENE 4
- SCENE 5
- SCENE 6
- SCENE 7
- SCENE 8
- SCENE 9
- SCENE 10
- SCENE 11
- SCENE 12
- SCENE 13
- SCENE 14
- SCENE 15
- SCENE 16
- SCENE 17
- SCENE 18
- SCENE 19
- SCENE 20
- SCENE 21
- SCENE 22
- SCENE 23
- SCENE 24
- SCENE 25
- SCENE 26
- SCENE 27
- SCENE 28
- SCENE 29
- SCENE 30
- SCENE 31
- SCENE 32
- SCENE 33
- SCENE 34
- SCENE 35
- SCENE 36
- SCENE 37
- SCENE 38
- SCENE 39
- SCENE 40
- SCENE 41
- SCENE 42
- SCENE 43
- SCENE 44
- SCENE 45
- SCENE 46
- SCENE 47
- SCENE 48
- SCENE 49
- SCENE 50
- SCENE 51
- SCENE 52
- SCENE 53
- ACKNOWLEDGMENTS
That’s Princess Leia Organa—and I’m ashamed to say she knocked me out cold. In my defense, she came out of nowhere! Never thought I’d get punched in the face by actual royalty—but I’m sure you’re not surprised.
This princess was about to be the biggest pain in my ass. And given everything I’d been through…that was really saying something.
SCENE 40
INT. VOLT COBRA. ABOUT TWO WEEKS LATER.
APHRA (narration):
I awoke in a cold, gray cell on a cold, gray ship—the Volt Cobra. My wrists were in binders, I had no idea where we were going, and I was starving. Also, I had a sinking sensation that Darth Vader really, really wasn’t going to like the fact that I’d gotten captured…and hadn’t even come close to nabbing the Skywalker kid.
Things were not looking good for my Feared, Powerful, and Disgustingly Rich Adventurer aspirations. Or for my Staying Alive aspirations. Or…for anything.
But as I was about to discover…this was the least of my worries.
Yes, I just described Darth Vader as “the least of my worries.” But I’m sure you’ll understand why.
Anyway, the rebels running the show tried to interrogate me. They spent a couple weeks on that—I think. Time ceases to have meaning when your daily landscape looks exactly the same every godsforsaken hour. I gave them nothing.
After a certain amorphous amount of time in the joint, I learned that I had to yell really loud whenever I wanted food. I was just about to get started with my daily yelling when the door slid open, casting a small sliver of light on the dingy metal of my cell.
And then you walked in.
SANA STARROS:
Aphra.
APHRA:
Sana? Sana Starros? I…I…
SANA STARROS:
How refreshing to see you speechless. I don’t think that’s something I’ve ever had the pleasure of witnessing.
APHRA:
I…wow. You look great.
APHRA (narration):
Ugh. I have to cringe remembering how…how fumbling I sounded. In my defense: You did look great, Sana. But I didn’t make this recording just to tell you that.
I…I wanted to tell you…I…um… Void.
The recording goes fuzzy.
APHRA (narration):
[sounding like she’s composing herself]
Recording: Delete that last bit. Now. Where was I?
Oh, right—you and the whole “looking great” thing.
You… your…ugh.
Y’know what, let’s go back to pretending I’m not recording this for anyone in particular, otherwise this is feeling a little too…
[intimate!]
…something.
[clears her throat, gathers herself]
So. Her dark-brown skin was as glowing as it had been when we were at university together; that mane of glorious midnight tresses still gave her the look of royalty. And her eyes were as sharp and probing as ever, boring into me like she could see my soul.
She always could. She was the only one.