Hera glances back at him, but doesn’t move. If they were planning a massacre, Hera doubts they would have only sent five troopers. Maybe they already noticed the surveillance feed had gone off in here, but she hadn’t imagined the response would be so fast.
But then about fifteen TIE pilots follow the troopers into the dining hall. They’re talking loudly, some laughing and joking, most holding their black helmets under their arms. Most of the other diners watch them now, still silent, but Hera turns her eyes back down to her food. The reason for the troopers has become clear enough.
The pilots first crowd around the front counters, some stepping hesitantly around those already waiting but others just shoving to the front. In the silence, their voices carry over the room.
“First chance for something besides rations for months and it’s this tailhead cr-“
“Hey, why aren’t the holoscreens on?”
The screens behind the counters blink to life, broadcasting scenes of E Day parades from around the galaxy. A few of the pilots cheer as they collect their trays, then head for the tables, many of them shooing away diners already seated. There’s no argument - anyone in the pilots’ path quickly hurry out of the way, finding somewhere else to sit. As they do, others relax slightly, some beginning to talk quietly again, or returning to their meals. But aside from the pilots, the room remains much quieter. Children stay near their parents, and no one new enters, and no one tries to leave.
no subject
But then about fifteen TIE pilots follow the troopers into the dining hall. They’re talking loudly, some laughing and joking, most holding their black helmets under their arms. Most of the other diners watch them now, still silent, but Hera turns her eyes back down to her food. The reason for the troopers has become clear enough.
The pilots first crowd around the front counters, some stepping hesitantly around those already waiting but others just shoving to the front. In the silence, their voices carry over the room.
“First chance for something besides rations for months and it’s this tailhead cr-“
“Hey, why aren’t the holoscreens on?”
The screens behind the counters blink to life, broadcasting scenes of E Day parades from around the galaxy. A few of the pilots cheer as they collect their trays, then head for the tables, many of them shooing away diners already seated. There’s no argument - anyone in the pilots’ path quickly hurry out of the way, finding somewhere else to sit. As they do, others relax slightly, some beginning to talk quietly again, or returning to their meals. But aside from the pilots, the room remains much quieter. Children stay near their parents, and no one new enters, and no one tries to leave.