Thrawn stepped up onto the command bridge, an inaudible sigh leaving his lips.
Commander Vanto wasn't there.
He hadn't been waiting on the Chimaera's running track at precisely 0440 in the morning, as Thrawn had requested. Not that that had been a surprise – only twice before in their years together had Eli actually shown up – and subsequently ate dust as Thrawn easily outran him.
And yet, Eli hadn't been waiting in the officer's tapcafe either, like he was in the habit of doing most mornings, blinking away exhaustion while waiting for his daily required dosage of caffeine.
Thrawn kept his emotions in check, preventing a smile from forming on his lips, as the only logical conclusion was reached.
So he has overslept?
You must not exhaust him so terribly next time, Thrawn admonished himself.
He approached Commander Faro, who had been on night shift and looked ready to relinquish command of the ship.
"Good morning, Commander-" Thrawn started, when suddenly the lights went out.
The bridge plummeted into complete darkness. Not even the emergency back up lights came on. The silence was jarring – even the air circulating systems were down. The room echoed a dozen surprised gasps as the artificial gravity failed as well and feet began floating off the floor and bottoms out of seats. The nose of the star destroyer was noticeably dipping – once the engines which kept it in a controlled orbit failed, the gravity of the massive planet beneath them seizing them.
"Lieutenant," Thrawn ordered. "Redirect the-"
But the next moment, the power came flickering back on, and Thrawn found himself alone standing on the bridge – the other officers and technicians having fallen to the ground once gravity was reinstated. Thrawn didn't hesitate.
The moment his feet had hit the floor, the moment he could observe he was alone in regaining his footing, he dashed to the transparisteel window at the front of the bridge, scanning the stars. He knew what he was looking for… and if his conclusions were correct-
"Admiral?"
"Complete power loss such as what we just witnessed doesn't happen by accident," Thrawn explained, eyes narrowing as he watched a streak of light tear its way across the blackness of space. A ship entering hyperspace.
"Are any systems up?" Thrawn said, not wanting to move his eyes from where the point of light vanished. But with a reluctant sigh, he realized that even if he were able to maintain the exact spot, he couldn't communicate where the spot to a technician to map out the ship's trajectory. And as they were currently alone, no other Imperial ship could have picked up the trajectory, either.
"Sir?" one of the bridge officers called up to him. "All systems appear to have been completely erased. Navigation, Communications, Propulsion-"
"What about ship logs?" Thrawn asked. "Surveillance?"
"Sir?" This time the question came from Faro. "The pressing matter right now is trying to make contact with another ship, or we're stranded. Ship logs can wait."
"On the contrary, Commander. This was sabotage," Thrawn said darkly.
The silence that followed begged an explanation, so Thrawn continued, "There is no naturally-occurring scenario in which the Chimaera would lose all functionality. Even during an emergency, basic systems like artificial gravity remains intact. The only explanation is this was the result of an electromagnetic pulse. And if that is true, then it is also true that this was intentionally done against us, at the hands of an intelligent force. To erase all records would mean we would not have any evidence of what they took or how they left."
He thought another moment, before adding, "Order a full accountability of all personnel on the ship."
"Sir." It was Faro. Quietly. Under her breath. Thrawn inclined his head to show that he was listening.
"Commander Vanto," she whispered. "He still hasn't reported in this morning."
-SWR-
Hera was shaken, in a way she hadn't been in a long time.
In a place like this. He knew her. She could see it in the way his eyes had lit up in recognition. But the way he'd blurted it out? Not good. She couldn't risk her real identity being known… not in an Imperial prison. She was far more valuable as a Rebellion leader than as the breaker of a morality law.
"My name is Esha Pala," Hera corrected, in her accented voice, using the name she'd given herself when her and Kanan made their forged identification cards.
The human sitting before her hadn't broken eye contact, his slightly furrowed brow smoothing out slightly as her words sunk in.
"Oh," he said. "I'm sorry, ma'am, I suppose I haven't spent enough time around Twi'leks to tell you apart. I meant no offense."
Hera blinked back again in surprise – both by his Wild Space accent, and the way he said his words. It was clear. He knew she was lying about the fake name. He knew she was Hera Syndulla. And he wasn't about to throw out her secret identity either. A friend.
Hera's heart fluttered – how was she going to communicate to him that she was alone? That she needed help? She knelt down in front of him and prodded gently, "Are you really a human?"
The furrowed brow returned, the human's eyes narrowed. "Yeah."
"My human is not with me," Hera whispered, hoping her words would sound like a desperate wife hoping to find information about her husband to any of the others who might be eavesdropping. "Are there others here? Do you think-"
"Jeez, easy darling, I-" the human said, cutting himself off pointedly, before continuing. "I'm not going to be a replacement for your human, right? I… I'm sorry. You're really alone?"
Hera had to stay in character, which was hard because a smile was warming her up inside. Jeez, easy darling, I- The phrase was weird, and Hera had no problem picking out the code. J-E-D-I. Followed by I'm not going to be a replacement for your human. He acknowledged that "her human" was a Jedi, then told her that he himself wasn't.
She was liking this one more and more.
But to answer his question - You're really alone? As in – is there backup coming?
"They didn't arrest him," she said, looking away and hugging herself, keeping the act going. "They took me away… so fast. They never gave me a chance to talk to my family. My mother… my sisters… they have no idea what happened to me. Where I went."
The human nodded slowly, grimacing a little. "It's alright," he said, but the worry on his face seemed to take over. He'd obviously thought that she had had rescue coming. But this one was clever. Surely they could figure something out together.
"Look… the guards'll be peaking through the bars any second now," he said quietly, shooting a glance at the room's barred door over the top of his elbow. "They see you talking to me-"
Hera felt her heart twinge. Despite their sudden connection, they were still trapped in this prison. He was warning her to stay away. The way his clothes were all rumpled, his hair tossled… the way the other prisoners stayed away from him… he probably had good cause to warn her.
But he didn't know. Hera would stick to him like glue. If they were going to take him away, she wanted to make sure that she was right there with him.
She took the risk and put her hand on his knee.
And just in time.
"Hey, would you look at that, the alien-lover has a girlfriend."
Hera turned to look at the doorway, where three burly guards leered. She tried to look shocked, to withdraw her hand quickly, to keep up her persona's charade of mousy jumpiness.
"Nah, it couldn't be," another guard said, pulling out a code cylinder and jamming it into a slot on the door frame.
The other aliens in the storage-room-cell got up and scattered. They already knew the routine. Hera stood up, bowing her head in acted fear, but the human remained sitting. As if he couldn't be bothered. Hera couldn't tell if he was being defiant, or was simply exhausted.
"On your feet," the guard said, stopping squarely in front of the human, the taunting tone lost from his voice. The human still didn't budge.
"You didn't say 'please,'" the human said finally.
Hera smiled microscopically. She liked this one.
The guards hauled him viciously to his feet, but that sweet, polite farm boy manner in which he had talked to Hera was gone. He glared daggers at the guards.
"I need two for a work order," the guard announced, loudly, over his shoulder, as though addressing the entire room, before turning to look at the human locked in the other two guard's arms. "You just keep volunteering for these, don't you, boy? What gives? Hoping we'll release you early for good behavior?"
The human didn't answer, but Hera was beginning to understand why he looked so run down. And why the other aliens had avoided him -
"And this one," the head guard said, clapping a hand on Hera. "Though not sure she'll be able to pull her own weight. But you like helping others, don't you?"
"Let's go," he said to the other two guards. One kept the human's arm locked within his own, restraining him as they marched out of the cell. The other guard pushed Hera in the back – apparently feeling like grabbing onto her in a similar matter was uncalled for. At least the submissive act was fooling everyone.
They were silent as they walked through the halls, reaching a giant storeroom. A messy storeroom. A warehouse that looked like it hadn't been entered in years.
"You know the drill," the lead guard said, once they'd come to a stop. "Push these," he gestured to the stacks of metal crates, "over there," he pointed to a trash compactor, "and then put those," he made a cube shape with his hands, "out there," he gestured to a industrial hauling-style ship sitting with it's cargo bays open just outside the warehouse doors.
He signaled for the other two to release the human.
"And just to make sure you don't try to run off," he said, grinning. Hera felt her throat tighten – he was planning on doing something really horrible…
And then, Hera gasped as one of the guards had dumped an entire bucket of water on her. She stood there in shock… wondering if could be something more than water… but no… it was… water. The guards laughed and walked off towards one of the corners. They were far enough away that Hera felt like she could chance talking to him, but not far enough away that they could try to escape. Yet.
"I tried to warn you," the human whispered, as he motioned her to follow him to a stack of metal crates. Wordlessly, Hera shook her hands out. He noticed her unspoken question about the water – he looked like he'd been soaked through too – and answered apologetically, "Its cold out there. If we try to run away, we'll freeze to death before we get anywhere."
"Is there anything to run to?" Hera asked.
"There's not," the human said, his eyes narrowing again. "But that's not exactly common knowledge."
"How do you know it?"
"My father told me about this place. There's something in the atmosphere that makes the sun look purple. Apparently the only planet in the galaxy like that. But the colonies were destroyed during the Clone Wars and no one ever came back."
"So you know where we are?" Hera asked, the excitement growing on her voice.
"Roughly," the human said, apologetically again. "We're in Wild Space. I can't recall the system's name." He glanced over at the guards, "Look, they aren't interested in us yet but if we don't start working soon, they'll be back over. And it won't be pretty."
Hera took in the bruises on his face, the contusion on his cheek. She had to agree.
"Let me guess," Hera said. "No droids."
"Why have droids when you're running a prison?"
Hera sighed, glancing up at the warehouse walls. There was a lot of metal crates…
"I don't know your name," Hera whispered.
"Eli," he whispered back. "Eli Vanto. Nice to meet your acquaintance."
"Now," Eli said, as he started to shove a metal crate across the floor, the grating sound echoing loudly in the warehouse. "How are we getting out of here, Ms. Syndulla?"