ALTHEA
The whispers started a few minutes after Althea landed on the base at D'Qar. It's possible that the handcuffs and guns pointed at her back didn't help with that.
It wasn't her fault, really, that she was hired to take out a couple Resistance pilots. It's not as if Althea worked for the First Order, she just worked for whoever offered the largest pile of cash. And it was really not her fault that the First Order happened to be extremely well funded, and particularly inclined to offer her large piles of cash. If the Resistance couldn't afford to hire the mercenaries out from under their enemies, well then that was really not her problem.
But still, she shouldn't have gotten caught. She was stupid, and in a rush, and neglected to check whether or not that fucker from the Guavian Death Gang had actually disabled her targeting system like he had threatened he would. In all honesty, his reaction was a bit dramatic, given that she had only shot him in the leg.
Althea had been so close, cloaked behind the leader of the dagger squadron, when she realized that she couldn't target the ship. The split second of her confusion was all it took for another member of the Resistance squad to fire at Althea, hit her ship's tail, and send her spiraling towards the ground. It was all she could do to make the crash landing.
They had followed her to the ground, and now she was their fucking prisoner.
She hated the self-righteous pompousness she saw in their eyes, the disgust with which they treated her. It's not as if they didn't kill, as if they didn't kick and scratch and claw at the universe to survive. She just happened to not have any delusions of moral superiority.
That's why she was here, now, on the fucking tarmac of the Resistance, with her hands and legs shackled, and being marched along to the detention center.
They tossed Althea unceremoniously inside, her injured leg and broken ribs shrieking when she stumbled and hit the opposite wall.
The leader of the squad that had captured her, and her original target, Lieutenant Mako, spared her a withering glare as he turned to leave. "How you mercenaries can live with yourselves is beyond me," he spat at her.
Althea spat back, and smirked when Mako jumped backwards to avoid it.
Mako motioned to the guards on either side of her cell, and they snapped to attention, tightening their grips on their blasters. "Watch her," Mako ordered, and he stalked out of the dim hallway.
Surveying her surroundings, Althea noted that the Resistance certainly did not make the same effort to make everything dark and ominous as the First Order did. For kriff's sake, she even had a window — was the Resistance even trying? She smiled. This was going to be easy. It was a good thing, since she had about two weeks left before her scheduled check in with the First Order's payment delivery. They had been generous with the time frame when contracting her for this hit, and Althea had gotten lucky with how quickly she had found intel on the dagger squadron's next planned run.
When Althea was little, her aunt Raile had told her once that her plots were written on her face: pursed lips, and an almost diabolically knowing glint her eyes. Althea made sure to face away from her guards as she contemplated her escape.
Getting out of the cell would be easy, but stealing a ship and getting off planet would be the hard part.
Her musings were interrupted by the sound of indignant footsteps resonating down the hallway. Althea glanced at her guards from her position in the corner, and noted their apprehension, and the way they stood straighter. Someone important, she thought.
She was right. General Organa slowed, and stopped in front of Althea's cell, accompanied by a stern looking Poe Dameron. Organa was famous throughout the galaxies, and Althea recognized her instantly. But Dameron she recognized from an earlier First Order contract briefing, where Althea had been given specific instructions to take him out. She had failed, however, and she'd payed dearly for that.
Neither Organa nor Dameron looked very happy with her, although that was to be expected. From her moderately comfortable place in the corner, Althea spared the duo a glance from beneath her lashes.
In the end, Organa spoke first. "So, you're the mercenary."
"It would certainly appear so, wouldn't it." Althea drawled. "Although, it's really more of a hobby."
Dameron's jaw set, and took a small step forward, one that was immediately thwarted by Organa extending her slight hand.
Organa spoke again. "Who hired you? Who were you sent to kill?"
Althea was silent.
"We'll find out everything, even if you give us nothing," Organa warned, her voice ever pleasant.
Althea smiled sweetly at her. "Well why don't you get started on that."
Organa studied her, so intently that Althea began to feel the urge to shift in her seat. Althea relaxed a little when the pair turned to leave, but tensed again when Dameron ground out, "How do you sleep at night?"
Althea cocked her head in mock consideration. "Usually horizontally, what about you?"
She knew she was pushing her luck, but she was so cross with herself about getting caught that she couldn't bite back her sarcasm. Luckily for her, Organa urged Dameron out of the hallway, and away from her.
I have time, Althea reminded herself. I have time to get out of here before the First Order realizes I failed. She's going to be okay, they're not going to find her, she reminded herself. Althea settled into her corner, and busied herself with plans of escape.
Organa came back the next day, looking as unruffled and elegant as ever, as if everything was just as she had planned it and nothing unexpected would ever come before her. Althea had to give the woman credit for exuding that air of infallible composure, and the elaborate braided crown.
Organa stood before Althea's cell, and a guard placed a small chair against the opposite wall.
Althea scoffed. "You planning on keeping me company, General?"
Organa didn't look up from her notepad. "Are you working for the First Order, Althea?"
Althea's breath caught in her throat. They know who I am, she thought. She could have kicked herself. Of course they know who you are. They have your fucking ship you fucking laserbrain. Still, she swallowed, and said, "What makes you think that?"
At this, Organa deigned to look at Althea. "The data pad with contracts from the First Order to take out my Dagger squadron."
"Well, why the fuck are you still asking me?"
"I wanted to give you the chance to tell me yourself."
Althea let out a breath. "Why would you care?"
Organa made a non committal noise, and continued to study her data pad. After a moment, she asked, "How old is your sister? Delia, right?"
Althea froze. Voice hoarse, she forced out, "What?"
Organa glanced up. "Delia, your sister on Dantooine. How old is she?"
"How— how do you—"
"The Resistance has eyes everywhere, Althea. We know about your sister, and we know you have information about the First Order. Now, if you'll excuse me, I have a meeting." With that, Organa rose and briskly exited the hallway.
Althea sat, breathing shallowly. Her slender hands wrung together. I have to get to Delia, she thought.
POE
"I'm sorry General, but you want to do what?" Poe was sure he hadn't heard right.
General Leia looked at him blankly. "I believe I was very clear with what I said. I want to hire her."
Poe sputtered, walking around the console. "But, but she's a mercenary for the First Order! And you want to hire her?"
The General nodded. "Exactly. Althea Perrim is a mercenary, Poe. She's not a soldier for the First Order. She's not loyal to them, or anyone. But we can make her loyal to us. We've gathered intel on her these past couple days, from the files recovered from her ship. She's a regular contract for the First Order — any asset we can take away from the First Order is a win."
Poe shook his head, and insisted, "But then why hire her? Just lock her up. She's a threat, a risk to us! How can we ever trust her?"
General Leia nodded, and said, "Her sister. Delia Perrim, age 11, living on Dantooine. Althea may not be loyal to anyone, but she loves her sister, and we can use that." The General looked around at Poe, Major Brance, and Admiral Ackbar, indignant, skeptical, and dubious, respectively.
She went on. "Right now, Althea has failed her mission to the First Order, but her scheduled check in is still two weeks away. We can bring in Delia, protect her from the First Order, and use her as leverage for Althea's cooperation. We can send Althea to that meeting, and have her gather intelligence for us. She could be our double agent."
"Do you think Perrim will cooperate just for her sister? These mercenary types, they don't care about anything but cash." Major Brance said.
Turning to Brance, the General responded, "I saw Perrim's reaction when I asked her about Delia. She cares. She'll cooperate."
This is crazy, thought Poe. Hiring a First Order mercenary into the Resistance, and trusting that familial relations would keep that fucking mercenary from selling them out. "General, with all due respect, this is a bad idea. She'll sell us out as soon as a better offer flies her way."
"That's what the sister is for, Dameron, insurance. And we need her. Our ranks are thin enough as it is. Now come with me. We're making Perrim the offer."
They walked side by side through the dim hallway, until they reached Perrim's cell. Poe's stomach turned at the sight of the woman, a girl really, curled up in the corner. He suspected her hair was blonde, but the dirt and grime from the crash and her imprisonment had rendered it a dull brown. Her slim hands clutched her side — her ribs were most likely broken from the crash, and the fight she had put up before being captured. Apparently it had taken the whole squadron to subdue her.
At their approach, Perrim opened her sunken eyes. "To what do I owe this pleasure?" She croaked, her voice hoarse.
"We want to hire you," General Leia said simply. Behind her, Poe clenched his jaw.
Perrim blinked. "I have to say, that's not what I was expecting to hear today. But I'm interested. How much cash are you offering?"
"None."
"None?"
"That's what I said. None."
Perrim snorted, and said, "Wow, you sure know how to make a girl feel special."
"I was thinking more along the lines of something to do with Delia," The General said, studying Perrim's face.
At this, Perrim clenched her fists, and the ever-present look of contempt vanished. When she leaned forward, Poe's hand settled on his blaster.
"So help me, if you do anything to Delia, you will wish you were dead."
General Leia smiled. "That's nice to hear, but we don't want to hurt Delia. Since you've failed your mission, the First Order is likely to send someone after you when you miss your check in date. When they inevitably can't find you, they'll go after Delia, won't they?"
Perrim bit her lip and looked away.
"I thought so. Althea, the Resistance is not the First Order. We don't harm innocents. In exchange for your cooperation, we will protect Delia. We can send a squadron to Dantooine, and bring her to a Resistance base to be cared for in safety. You will work for us — you'll be our double agent. You're a skilled fighter, Althea. Your talents are wasted in a cell."
Poe could see Perrim considering the offer, despite herself.
Finally, she seemed to sag in on herself a little. "For how long?"
The General smiled. "I think three years sounds fair, doesn't it? Given that you've stolen supplies, destroyed bases, and even tried to take out a squadron yesterday." Poe's jaw set when he was reminded of Perrim's deeds. She's a criminal, he thought, and his mouth filled with a bitter taste at the thought of being in her proximity for three years.
Perrim nodded, and ground out a reply. "Fine. Under one condition: Delia comes here."
General Leia agreed, and motioned to the guards to open the cell. "You'll be under guard at all times, Althea. Don't think that I'm so stupid as to think you won't try and escape. I know what you're capable of. Six guards at all times, and you will be granted access to only a few areas of the base. But, we can discuss all that at another time. As for now, the guards will take you to the medical bay to get your injuries looked at."
Poe watched Perrim struggle to stand while clutching her injured ribs, his hand still on his blaster in case she made any sudden motions. The knowledge that she would effectively be a part of the Resistance made his skin crawl. When the General motioned for him to follow her, he was glad to leave Perrim's vicinity.
He looked over his shoulder to see her limping down the hallway in the other direction, towards the medical bay, surrounded by her squadron of armed guards. All of the guards pointed their blasters her way. Poe wondered just how dangerous the General thought this mercenary was. He hadn't seen their intel on her, only briefly heard of her many missions to take out Resistance bases.
When Poe and General Leia reached the command room, she turned to him. The General looked at him intently. "Dameron, I know you do not approve of this course of action, but we cannot pass up the opportunity that Althea Perrim represents in the fight against the First Order. She's highly skilled and can give us valuable intelligence. But I want you to watch her. Get as much information out of her as you can, and watch her for any sort of planning of an escape. We can't have her back in the hands of the First Order, not when she's seen the base here on D'Qar."
"Yes, General." Poe nodded his assent, stomach sinking as he did so. This is going to go horribly wrong, he thought.
ALTHEA
Althea could feel eyes on her. It was an uncomfortable feeling, she was used to blending into shadows and dark corners. Being stared at made her skittish. When she and her far too heavily armed entourage passed through a hallway where she could see the tarmac, she ached to take out her guards, steal a ship, fly to Delia, and hide them both far, far away. So far away that the Resistance and the First Order would never find them, and they would carve out a life together. Maybe on an Outer Rim territory, with a farm, and animals, just like Delia had always wanted.
Althea didn't see the point of pets. They just slowed you down when you had to run.
She knew she could take the guards, but getting across the tarmac in broad daylight without being shot down, and stealing a ship was impossible, even for her.
She kept walking.
In the medical bay, a tight-lipped older woman introduced herself as Dr. Kalonia. Althea got the distinct impression that Dr. Kalonia was friendly, just not to people like her. By that she meant people who were contracted by the First Order.
The anesthesia was a sweet relief from the agony of the past two days, her broken ribs and injured leg fading to dull numbness. The bacta patches were cool on her various wounds, and Althea felt the drugs take hold, her eyes drifting shut, still aware of the six guards posted around her bed and at her door.
When she opened her eyes, Althea was greeted by the more than unexpected sight of Poe Dameron watching her from the chair in the corner.
"Morning sunshine." She smirked in satisfaction when his brows knitted together at her words.
"It's actually the afternoon," he bluntly replied. "The drugs have kept you under for a day."
Althea surveyed the room, noting the handcuffs that chained her to the bed, and that the guards had moved to stand outside of the room. "Well, I feel rested. I don't know about you, but missions always tire me out." She studied Dameron's face, the way his jaw set whenever she spoke. "So, what does the illustrious General Organa have planned for me today?"
Dameron eyed her steadily. "You're going to tell me about your time on the First Order base."
Althea swallowed. "There's really not much to tell."
"Tell me anyways."
She glared at him. He glared back. Althea noted how irritatingly tousled his black hair was. "I failed a mission. They brought me in, and, well, expressed their displeasure."
Dameron glanced down. "What was the mission?"
"You," she replied, refusing to look away. I am not ashamed, she reminded herself "I was sent to kill you when you were on a supply mission to Coruscant. You had a meeting with a smuggler in a tavern, I was supposed to take you out there, but the place was raided by Coruscant enforcers. You got away."
Althea realized Dameron was staring at her, his mouth having fallen open slightly. She frowned, and spat out, "Why do you look so surprised? Your name is all over First Order contract lists. They have a price on your head, and it's rising every day. They want you gone."
Dameron blinked, and cleared his throat. "What happened after the tavern?"
"They found me," Althea snapped. "They brought me to a base — I don't know on which planet, but it was in the Outer Rim — and they hurt me." She let out a short breath. "General Hux, mostly."
"How long did you spend on the base?"
"Three weeks, I think. I don't remember most of it."
"What did they do to you?" Dameron asked quietly.
At that, Althea looked up, into his eyes, which seemed to have softened the slightest bit. Innerly, she recoiled from the memory of the base, of Hux's machines. "How the fuck is that relevant, Dameron?"
Whatever softness may have entered Dameron's eyes quickly left it again, and he stood to leave.
"Wait," Althea called. He turned, regarding her with hostility. She shuffled in her bed. "Has the General sent a squadron for Delia?"
Dameron paused, before responding. "The General sent two pilots out this morning. They should have Delia back her by tomorrow." He stalked out of the medical bay room before she could reply.
Althea huffed. Uptight Resistance asshole. She winced at the thought of spending three years in close contact with people who hated everything about her. Pulling up her shirt, she examined the bruising on her side. The skin was sallow, with deep black and blue marks, and scrapes from crawling out of her ship's hatch. Probing the wounds gently, her angular features contorted in pain.
"I would leave them alone to heal, if I were you." Dr. Kalonia spoke up, regarding Althea from doorway with condescension. The anesthetic must have subdued Althea's normally keen senses, if someone was able to sneak up on her.
Without looking up, or removing her hand from the wounds, Althea muttered back, "Thank you for the insightful medical advice."
Dr. Kalonia did not even blink, striding forward instead to take up residence in the chair Dameron had abandoned. She crossed her legs and pulled out a data pad, typing some things on the screen. "I need to answer some questions about your medical history, for you profile in our database."
"Go right ahead."
"In the crash and ensuing fight yesterday, you received a concussion, along with three broken ribs and a blaster wound to your leg. I need to log other times that you have been concussed."
Althea's brow knitted together. "I honestly couldn't say. This is the first time I've been to a doctor."
Dr. Kalonia finally reacted. "You've never been to a doctor before? What about when you've been injured?"
"I usually just stitch myself up, or someone does it for me. There was one time, I took a blaster shot to the back, they brought me to a local healer and she took care of it."
"Who brought you?"
"The people I was working with."
Dr. Kalonia insisted, "Who?"
Althea hedged, "I think they were part of the Guavian Death Gang." It was a lie, the person the First Order had hired to transport her body off the base had noticed she was still alive, and taken pity on her. He'd brought her to Maz on Takodana, and she'd spent weeks there recovering. Hux's machines had really done a number on her.
Either the drugs and concussion had made Althea a bad liar, or Dr. Kalonia was unusually perceptive, because it did not seem like the good doctor believed Althea. But thankfully, she let the subject drop.
"How long have you been working as a…"
"Mercenary? Since I was eleven, so for twelve years now."
Much like Dameron earlier, Dr. Kalonia's mouth hung slightly open. "You started when you were eleven?"
Althea nodded, barging ahead. "Yes. My sister and I, we needed the money. There was a contract for hire on Dantooine, and I knew how to kill a man, so I offered my services."
Dr. Kalonia's interrogation finished quickly, Althea not having ever taken the care to make not her injuries, and so having very little to tell the woman. She could feel her eyes drifting shut when the doctor refilled the bag of anesthetics, the cold numbness welcome in her aching limbs and pounding head. Althea did not remember ever having been in this much pain, except during her time on the First Order base.
She relaxed, and let the darkness take her. Delia will be here soon.