Resigning her commission is surprisingly easy. A quick conversation with the captain and a handshake and she's gone.
Your faith was strong but you needed proof
It doesn't hurt to leave her X-wing nearly as much as she thought it would. It doesn't hurt at all, not even when she's running her fingers over the hard-earned kill silhouettes that will be painted over, not even when she hauls herself up into the cockpit to remove the couple of personal items that she always kept there.
You saw her bathing on the roof
To be fair, nothing hurts right now.
Her beauty in the moonlight overthrew you.
She doesn't say goodbye to anyone. She's just another former Rogue, following Elscol, Dllr, Herian, Ibtisam, Nrin, Xarcee, Feylis, vanishing silently into the night just like the rest of them. Like the Darklighters and the Porkins and the Rendars and the Docs who came and went before her time.
She tied you to a kitchen chair,
She doesn't look back. Not once. Not walking out of the fighter landing bay, not in the shuttle leaving the Mon Redonda, not even once she has booked passage and is on a rattly old Stalwart-class light freighter bound for Eiattu.
She broke your throne, she cut your hair,
When the ship captain asks in the Alassar Major spaceport, she says the second alias that comes to mind. She thinks Hobbie would be horrified if he knew she gave her name as Klivian. Hell, maybe he'd laugh. She doesn't know.
And from your lips she drew the Hallelujah.
She wants to say Pernon, but she knows better than that.
The bored customs official spells it wrong. Thou Klivan doesn't correct him. She just slips him a few credits so that he won't need to see her identification.
Maybe I've been here before,
I know this room, I've walked this floor.
It takes three days to reach Eiattu, not four.
I used to live alone before I knew you
The nobles have to know she's coming, have to be watching the Eiattu spaceports and passenger lists for her. If they weren't ready to make an attempt on her life, they wouldn't have acted.
I've seen your flag on the marble arch,
She wears a hooded cloak and she keeps to herself, away from the crew and four other passengers. She spends most of the voyage on the bunk that's too short for her, sleeping or watching the stars streak past.
love is not a victory march,
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah.
The freighter sets down in Otomne. She rents a speeder and travels the four and a half hours west to the capital city.
It's sick how easily she gets into the palace without identifying herself. Bribe a guard here (he's going to lose his job), use a secret passage there, and she's in.
On her way through the lower levels of the palace, the servants' levels, she runs into young Hilunda first. He's a count who she's worked with a few times; he lacks political clout, but she approves of him. He seems to actually care about the people; a rarity among the nobles.
Remember when I moved in you?
Just the fact that he's in the palace at all is a good sign; it means that he didn't break ties with the government the way that the Priamsta stalwarts did. Though damned if she knows what he's doing in this level of the palace.
The holy dark was moving too
"Princess--" he starts, eyes wide, but she brushes right past him. He is forced to hurry after her to catch up.
And every breath we drew was hallelujah.
"Count Hilunda. I need an immediate update on what's happening; the damage done, who was killed," and her voice doesn't hesitate or pause, not even on that, "and the demands of the Priamsta. Then I want a way to get a message to them, and when I say 'then,' I mean now."
Maybe there's a God above
"Princess, maybe you wish to speak t--"
And all I ever learned from love
"Princess!" Malia, her maid, dashes down the hall, hair flying behind her and her simple dress rumpled as if hastily thrown on, and maybe that's a clue as to what Hilunda is doing in the servants' levels of the palace. "Princess, you d--" The girl gets one look at the princess's face. "You don't know," she breathes. "Please, come." She grabs her princess's hand and tugs insistently.
Was how to shoot at someone who outdrew you
She shakes her head. "I don't have time f--"
It's not a cry you can hear at night
"No, no, you need to come now," says Malia, and Isplourrdacartha is so stunned by the girl's interruption, by her uncharacteristic strength, that she lets the girl lead her away from Hilunda, up the stairs and down a corridor.
It's not somebody who's seen the light
After a few minutes, she starts, "Malia," but then there are voices in the corridor ahead, and they turn the corner.
It's a cold and it's a broken hallelujah
First, she sees a guard. One of her own. Then two more. Then a young baron and a layman advisor; two men who she would have expected to remain loyal to herself, and then, talking to them--
She has snapped. She has gone too long without sleep and her mind has just snapped.