Devin Virell
Redline Echo
Devin still remembered the screams, the stench of death.. all of it followed him like a curse. He had been designated to aid in the transport of wounded Jedi from Kattada.
One week on New Cov, and the place still didn’t feel.. real.
Now, another perimeter sweep, another day without incident.
There was a magnetic pull toward the front lines, in ways he couldn't fully grasp. Maybe he was craving the adrenaline, the urgency, the clarity that only came with flying on pure instinct and praying that his personal starfighter would hold together while flying straight at death.
So the patrol had been quiet, the endless canopy rolling below, with an occasional shadow of something massive moving. Other than that, there were no sensor pings, no Imperial pilots to dance with.
The New Cov Temple was nothing like the other outposts Devin had flown from. On Odessen, there was always noise. Sure, the giant landing pad lay open to the sky, but beyond that it was like a giant wall, and he couldn’t shake the feeling of being trapped.. almost claustrophobic. Not to mention, he’d never been near so many Jedi in one spot.
But the landing pad became his own little world. A handful of starfighters were in formation, and nearby, a pair of transport shuttles rested.
He sat on the ground, leaning against one of the landing struts. The flight suit was half‑zipped, but then again, there wasn’t much regulation here. And certainly not as there’d been back on Corsucant, a planet that was always at the edges of his thoughts.
Though he could not fathom the ways of the Force, the datapad in his hands thrummed with a different kind of energy, carrying the secrets in his mind, the emotions of his heart, into a new journal entry.
After gazing out into the distant jungle, a place that forever whispered of danger, he finally began to thumb in a few lines.
The words came slowly.
Entry 43: Without the sky
I don’t know if I like the quiet or if it’s just making me soft. The dome keeps the jungle out, but it also keeps the sky out. I miss Odessen, the way the air tasted clean, the way the hangars opened. Out there, you can always see where you might run if things go bad. Here, it’s like seeing your own reflection in the glass. But maybe that’s the point, a place to make me sit still long enough and remember what I’m fighting for.