A/N: Greetings, to the only story I still update on this website! I hope you are all doing okay. It's been a tough couple of months, eh? This chapter comes to you after only seven months hiatus, as opposed to the three years between the previous two chapters. (i'm still sorry about that!)
Anyway, I hope you enjoy this update! Our heroes finally get a chance to sit down and relax and talk about things. It's a writer's dream xD
9 – More Blind Than Luck
"You're pregnant?" The words, incredulous, sputtered out of his mouth, louder than he had intended, but still true. He was sodden, frozen to the core, exhausted from the fight, and then this? His mind could barely process it.
She had turned in her chair to face him, her expression frustratingly neutral. Her eyes flicked to the others in the cockpit – Kota and PROXY, as well as Neve, Gipp, and Ahsoka, who had entered not long after entering hyperspace. Reminding Galen, very quickly, that this conversation was not as private as they might have liked. Still, he pressed on.
"How long have you known?" he asked. Juno stood up, shoulders set, almost already resigned to an argument. She was almost a head height smaller than him, but drew herself up nonetheless. He had always admired her spark, her tenacity; her unwillingness to back down from a fight, if she felt it was worth it.
She met his eyes. "Just over six weeks. And – I'm almost five months gone."
Galen did the maths in his head. Juno hadn't arrived on Hoth until relatively recently, so five months didn't add up…
"Shore leave," he sighed, and Juno nodded.
"Yes."
His heart sank. "Why didn't you say anything?"
"I was-" She hesitated. "I was waiting for the right moment. And then, so much time had passed. I was afraid."
"So you thought you would tell me just as we're facing off against a fleet of Imperials, Darth Vader amongst them?" Galen snapped. He was angry, albeit unsure of where the rage was coming from.
"As soon as the Empire arrived on Hoth I realised I had to tell you at some point or another," Juno scowled, "Anything could have happened, I didn't want – want to die without you at least knowing!"
Galen frowned. He wasn't sure what to make of that. If anything, it might have made the unbearable thought of Juno's death worse, if that was possible.
"And," Juno continued, "You were being self-sacrificial and stupid. Imagine if you'd died out there! Was I supposed to feel good about leaving you to die?"
I've already done it once.
She didn't say it, but Galen understood the meaning, the anger behind her words.
"Fine," he said, "Maybe it was thoughtless. But – but you hid this for almost two months. You could have told me. That's what we do! We trust each other."
There it was – the stinging hurt at the centre of his words. Surprises were one thing, but Juno was the person he loved most in the entire universe.
"I wanted to!" Juno replied, her face flushed. "Stars, Galen, I really did. There was just never the right time."
"We're in the middle of a war, Juno! Was there ever going to be a right time?" he said, exasperated, running a hand through close-cropped hair. She folded her arms.
"It's not as if I have experience with this kind of thing."
"I mean, neither do I, you realise." Galen raised an eyebrow.
She sighed, shoulders dropping. "I didn't think you would understand."
In that, she was right. His unusual upbringing had left a gaping hole of basic knowledge that most normal kids in the galaxy would have simply filled by having parents and living in society. And he wasn't Juno, so how could he have known what she was going through?
"You could have let me try."
At that, she had nothing to say. Couldn't she see that Galen only wanted to love her? Her fear, her anxiety over what he would think – how could she have ever thought any of that mattered to him?
The silence stretched out for a few seconds, both Juno and Galen avoiding each other's gaze, before being interrupted by one of the rebels from the ground battle on Hoth.
"Sorry to intrude," she said, "But we intercepted a message from Command just before reaching hyperspace. It's got the coordinates for the Fleet's rendezvous point."
Kota grunted. "Maybe they can give us an answer to what's going to happen next."
Juno nodded, clearly grateful for the change of subject. "Give them here, I'll plot us a course."
She sat down, her back to Galen, as she began her calculations for the next hyperspace jump.
He turned to leave, the conversation over; he was cold, and tired, and needed to get out of his wet and snow-covered clothes. He tried not to picture Juno's hurt expression as he left the cockpit. Obviously, this discussion would have to be resumed at a later date.
Annoyingly, General Kota followed him out of the cockpit and to down to the crew quarters-come-common area. Sighing loudly, he turned to face the older man.
"You knew, didn't you?"
Kota shrugged. "I suspected. And I was right."
Galen sat heavily down in one of the lounge chairs, leaning on the small table. Distantly, he remembered playing sabacc against Juno and PROXY once, many lifetimes ago. Or rather, Juno had taught them and then PROXY had promptly wiped the table with them both. Her laugh, as PROXY claimed his ninth victory in a row, which she had quickly stifled when he had looked at her. She'd blushed, then, a little. Maybe she didn't think he would notice; why would he? But he had.
"I'm no relationships expert-" said Kota, as he sat down across from Galen.
Galen raised his eyebrows. "But?"
"Nothing. That's the sentence. I'm no relationships expert, boy. You had that scowling, confused face that looked like you were about to ask me advice."
Galen smirked, despite himself. "You've known me too long, clearly."
"Long enough. About the same length of time that I've known Juno, mind you. Plus that year where you were sort-of dead."
"What are you trying to say, old man?" he muttered, frowning.
"She was upset when you died, last time. Really cut up about it. It was a noble cause you died for, of course. But I wouldn't blame her for trying to prevent it a second time. Not all of us are so lucky to come back."
"Hm." Galen pondered that for a second. "That's not the part that I'm angry at, though."
"You wish that she'd told you about her pregnancy?"
"Well, obviously. I love her."
"Perhaps she's scared from her own experiences. Her father didn't exactly turn out to be anything good, from the little she's told me. I'm sure you know more. Maybe she was afraid that you would reject her for it."
"Then she would lose me anyway," said Galen, understanding. "But – I would never-"
"I know you wouldn't. But plenty of fathers do." Kota pushed up from the table, setting the chair back where he'd found it. "Look, you need to talk to each other. That's all there is to it."
"Huh. I thought you weren't giving out advice," grumbled Galen, folding his arms.
"It's not advice when it's common sense, boy," said Kota, huffing. "Anyway, I'm off for a nap. Feel free to wake me when we reach the fleet."
"Will do," nodded Galen, absently. He himself could be doing with a lie down, he admitted. It had been nearing the end of a long shift for him anyway, without the added threat of an Imperial attack thrown on him at the end. The longer he spent away from the pull and destruction of the dark side, he noted, the more he felt his body's physical limitations. Not to the point of debilitation, of course – but there was something wonderfully, casually human about feeling slightly tired at the end of a long shift. He hadn't had the chance to truly be human, to be free, growing up. It was something he was beginning to relish.
Galen sighed, stretching out his back. His unease at his argument with Juno still gnawed uncomfortably at his stomach, but he cast it aside for now. He made his way to the ship's private sleeping quarters, hastily casting off his wet clothes and changing into something warmer and drier, collapsing onto the bed in an uneasy slumber.
Plotting hyperspace courses was something that Juno Eclipse could do in her sleep, at this point. The whole galaxy stretched out as a map in her head as she mentally calculated the correct number of jumps and routes it would take to rendezvous with the fleet. Add in a couple of detours to avoid common Imperial trade routes. She knew them off by heart, too. The whole process – calculating the entire route, as opposed to a single jump – took slightly longer to prepare, but was ultimately worth it to save fuel and travel there more efficiently. Not mention it would make it harder for the Imperials to track them. The ship's computer would check all her calculations automatically once she had entered them, but she rarely – if ever – made mistakes. After all, she wasn't the youngest cadet ever admitted to the Imperial Academy for nothing.
"Mind if I join you?"
Juno almost jumped in her seat. Ahsoka Tano, already clad in new dry clothes, had evidently made her way back through the ship to join her. Bar PROXY, the cockpit had emptied when Galen had left, and Juno hadn't heard Ahsoka enter. Damned Jedi tiptoeing.
She smiled tightly at the Togruta. "Yeah, of course. PROXY, go and check on the others through the back and see if they need anything."
"Of course, Captain." The droid moved stiffly out of the co-pilot's seat and creaked away, Ahsoka replacing him. Juno punched in the last of her hyperspace calculations and sent them down to the computer, momentarily pausing before a green light indicated that the jumps were set. She exhaled slowly and leaned back.
"You're an expert, I see." Ahsoka nodded to her dashboard. Juno shrugged.
"I hate to admit it, but those Imperial Academies get results. I was trained by the very best that the Empire had to offer." Not a boast; certainly not anymore. Juno was good at her job and loyal to the Rebels and that, at the end of the day, was at that mattered. She wasn't the only defector in the ranks of the Alliance.
"You ever get many clone troopers passing your way?" Ahsoka asked, a hint of curiousness at the edge of her voice. Juno frowned.
"A few. Not many, though; they were phasing out cloning long before I joined the Academy. They tended to be grizzled old retirees – minds still as sharp, mind you."
"Sounds about right," said Ahsoka, her voice wistful. "Accelerated aging will do that. I never knew exactly how they kept them in service after they stopped being…useful to the Republic. Or the Empire."
"I can imagine, though," muttered Juno darkly. Ahsoka nodded, sombre.
"Yes."
They sat in silence for a few minutes, each with their minds occupied on other things, darker times. Or perhaps these were the dark times. Juno still wasn't sure.
"I'm guessing you heard everything?" she said, mostly to break the silence. She could to do with a listening ear, the air still thick with the tension of her and Galen's argument.
Ahsoka nodded. "I did. That – well, that wasn't an easy conversation to have, let alone with company."
"No," admitted Juno, "I could have timed it better."
The Togruta shrugged. "I don't know Galen as well as you do, but I do know that he's stubborn as all hell. He's got a heroic streak that runs a little on the reckless side. If you think telling him then was the only way to get him back on board, then, you're probably right, you know?"
"I hope so," said Juno. "He – well, he has a dark past. I think he's trying to atone for past wrongs. I don't know if he'll ever feel satisfied with the good that he's done."
"I get that," Ahsoka said, gently. "For what it's worth, you shouldn't have hidden your secret for so long. For your sakes, too. Hiding that sort of thing is never going to end well."
Ah. The bantha in the room, huh?
Juno wasn't sure what to say. Ahsoka was right, of course. Her and Galen had never had the kind of relationship that involved secrets before. They had never needed to.
She stared out of the viewport into the yawning abyss of hyperspace, allowing herself to get lost in it for a second. "I need to make this right."
"You will. Galen will come around, you know."
Grimacing, Juno raised an eyebrow. "Are you sure about that? He seemed...angry."
"I'm no Jedi, but I still have the Force. He's just a little lost, conflicted, maybe. Give him time. And give yourself time. Don't beat yourself up about it."
Juno snorted. "You still sound like a Jedi."
"Hard habit to shake, I guess."
"Hmph." Juno returned to her instruments, double-checking her readings. That, at least, gave her some comfort when nothing else would. Ships, they were easy to deal with. Simple, step-by-step calculations. It was predictable, and she found comfort in that.
Humans, on the other hand; relationships? Not so much.
"Thank you, Ahsoka," she said, gratefully. "I appreciate having someone to talk to."
Ahsoka gave a half-smile; stoic as ever. Juno wondered what kind of battles and wars the ex-Jedi had seen in her time. She only had about 10 years on Juno, but her eyes looked as if she'd lived a hundred lifetimes in the time Juno had been alive.
And here she was, giving Juno advice on a pregnancy she'd kept secret for nearly five months. Puts things into perspective, Juno thought.
"Do you have a plan? For – after?" Ahsoka's expression was neutral, but carefully inquisitive. Juno nodded; in truth, she had been thinking about this a great deal. It was, she noted, blissfully freeing to have someone else to talk to about it.
"If we're going undercover in Corulag, then I don't know how long we'll be there. If Leia's plans are still in place, then we should be set up with accommodation and some form of cover story."
"You're suggesting – continuing as normal, even with the baby? Forgive me, Juno, but it sounds a little risky, even for you."
Juno bowed her head. "I know. But I can't – I can't leave the Alliance. I have no family left, remember. My whole life was with the Empire until I defected. I have nowhere else to go."
She gave Ahsoka a half-smile. "I have thought this through, a little. Corulag has some of the best medical facilities in the galaxy, despite the Empire's rule. It's not the worst place to be giving birth."
The Togruta chewed her lip in thought. "I suppose if anything happens with the Rebels, you'll already be in a safehouse. And better to be undercover than on an Alliance base, in danger of getting bombed every day."
Juno nodded. "My thoughts exactly."
Ahsoka made to stand. "You'll be alright, Juno. For what it's worth-" The older woman paused, uncertainly, "-I'll do everything in my power to help you." She placed a hand on Juno's shoulder, before retracting it quickly and leaving the cockpit as silently as she arrived.
The navicomp beeped a warning at Juno, diverting her attention away from the mysterious ex-Jedi and their odd conversation. It was good to have Ahsoka on her side at least.
Not that Galen isn't on her side, she quickly thought. They would get through this. But – well, not all secrets are good. She had suffered enough under the secrecy and lies of the Empire – here, with the Alliance, she was part of a team, and it felt good. Hope, and a decent support network: now that was something Juno would far rather be a part of.
Checking that she was alone in the cockpit, she placed a hand over her stomach. At five months pregnant, she was definitely starting to show it. On Hoth, she could put it down to the base's canteen food and wear bulky cold-weather gear to hide it but there wasn't any use for that now. She rubbed her thumb up and down absent-mindedly, feeling a little flutter of movement inside her belly. Hello, little one.
In truth, Juno hadn't put much thought into what being a mother would be like. She had certainly never envisioned herself having a family, not when her own childhood had been so poor. It wasn't something that had ever crossed her mind even with Galen; not when there were wars to be fought and galaxies to save.
She sighed, leaning back a little in her chair and stretching her arms up in a yawn. Hopefully PROXY would come and relieve her of her piloting duties soon. Then she would be able to get some decently well-earned rest, she thought.
"Coming out of hyperspace in three…two…one…" The Rogue Shadow slammed out of hyperspace, distended star-lines fading back into individual dots again for the final time since leaving Hoth. In front of them lay the Rebel fleet – or what remained of it, a ragtag bundle of ships of various different sizes and makes. Juno considered it home, in a way, or a close thing to it.
Beside her, in the co-pilot's seat, Neve sighed happily. "Finally," the Sullustan grinned, before sobering quickly. "I hope everyone else got out okay."
"Approaching Alliance fleet. Please submit landing codes."
Juno deftly flicked some switches on the Rogue Shadow's dashboard. For it having been several months since she had last flown the ship properly, the movements had all come back to her instantly.
"Transmitting codes now," she broadcast. There was a stagnant pause, one that lasted a little too long to be comfortable, before the comms crackled back to life.
"You're clear to proceed, Rogue Shadow. You'll be docking with the Salvation II, docking bay nine. Alliance out."
"Roger that," replied Juno. "Rogue Shadow out." She pressed some more buttons on the dashboard, accessing the ship's internal comms system.
"Attention all crew – we'll be docking on the Salvation II in approximately five standard minutes. I'll radio ahead and let them know we've got wounded. Get everyone ready to board ASAP."
Another set of commands to type in, and then she was broadcasting directly to the Salvation II. "This is Rogue Shadow, coming in to docking bay nine. We've got wounded infantry on board, requesting medical assistance and escort on arrival."
"Roger that, Rogue Shadow. A medical crew will be on standby. And it's good to hear your voice again, Captain Eclipse."
Juno allowed herself a smile at the familiar voice of her former second-in-command, now captain. "You too, Brek. Good to see you haven't destroyed the ship in my absence. Shadow out."
She eased the Shadow in to the assigned docking bay, noting the flurry of workers, medics and engineers and soldiers alike, swarming the bay and tending to all the ships stationed there. Setting the ship down gently with a small thud, she opened the boarding ramp and stood up, towards where Ahsoka, Galen and Kota were helping the wounded Rebels. The medics were quick to meet them and soon they'd managed to get all the injured onto hover beds, ready to be transported to the infirmary.
"NEVE!" one of them bellowed, using her large form to push other soldiers out of the way. Neve, unloading the last of the supplies they'd managed to grab on Hoth, popped up from behind a crate with a confused expression, which quickly changed to delight when she saw who it was.
"Gipp-" Neve tried to exclaim, but her cry was quickly cut off by the reptilian woman scooping her up into a bone-crushing hug. Juno looked away; out of respect for their privacy, it felt like she was intruding otherwise. It was good to see some positives out of what was a fairly dire situation for the Rebels.
Gipp had arrived with the medic team, her strong, reptilian arms able to life twice the weight of most standard bipeds – naturally coming in handy for carrying supplies. With her was Starter, who waved a casual salute to the rest of the team before leaning on a nearby crate and lighting a cigar. Juno noted the dark circles under his eyes. Like Gipp, he hadn't travelled with the rest of the team; he'd been elsewhere on the base when the evacuation orders came through. She wondered what he'd seen that had sobered his usually upbeat demeanour.
Ahsoka and Kota, noting that everyone was present, motioned for them to group up.
"Well, we're all here," said Kota, gruffly. "I'm glad." Everyone nodded, sombrely; Juno had only heard rumours on radio chatter, but it sounded like the Alliance had suffered heavy losses.
"Obviously, this changes our plans slightly," began Ahsoka, "given that we were due to be departing from Echo Base tomorrow. I haven't been able to get in contact with Princess Leia since leaving Hoth, but I think we should assume that the mission is still going ahead."
"I propose that we take a little extra time to rest up and prepare," she continued, "And then continue with our mission as planned. We'll need to figure out some logistics, ships-wise, and we're all a little worse for wear so this additional time should do us good."
There were murmurs of agreement amongst the small group.
"We'll reconvene tomorrow morning," Kota said, checking his chrono. "In the meantime, get a good night's sleep. You've all earned it."
The group nodded collectively, and dispersed into the crowds of Rebel soldiers and workers still milling around in the docking area. The Salvation II had an extensive number of crew quarters on rotation, so by Juno calculation's there should be a few spares for the extra number of soldiers passing through.
"For any remaining Alliance troops looking for bunks," A commanding voice rang out across the PA system in the hangar, confirming Juno's calculations, "Please report to Deck 9, Operations, and bunks will be assigned on a rota basis until we sort through further logistics."
Juno noted the tired faces of much of the soldiers and crew assembled in the hangar. She almost felt guilty for being lucky enough to fly a smaller ship, where there was considerably more privacy and room to sleep. She could be doing with a good meal, though. The Salvation II had an excellent mess officer who she'd missed dearly during her time on Hoth.
First, though. She had a few things to take care of first. She called over to Kota, who was still standing, arms folded, deep in thought. He grunted at the sound of her voice.
"I'm heading up to say hello to some old crewmates. If anyone needs me on the Shadow, I'll have my commlink on me."
Kota nodded. "Fine. See you around, Juno." He patted her on the shoulder before walking away in the other direction, and Juno was surprised by the gesture. It was unlike the old man to show anyone affection, and she knew him better than most.
"I think he's getting soft in his old age."
Juno hadn't seen Galen approach; but then, she usually never did. Old, stealthy habits die hard, I suppose. His expression was, as usual, unreadable to most, but Juno detected a cautious optimism behind his scowl.
The corner of her mouth twitched. "Yes. He's not as gruff and incapable of love as he'd like everyone to believe, I think."
Galen nodded. "Hm."
The silence, thicker than soup, stretched out between them. Galen looked like he was searching for the right words, but hadn't quite found them yet.
"I-" he began, before cutting himself off and clearing his throat. "Are you going somewhere?"
"Catching up with some old crewmates," Juno smiled, tightly. "Won't be long."
"Okay." Galen nodded again. Juno could practically see the cogs of his brain working, but Galen himself obviously hadn't come to a conclusion to his internal dispute. "Um. See you later, then?"
"Yeah. See you later."
She turned on her heel and headed towards one of the smaller elevators, trying not to think about the tension you could pop with a pin between them. She suspected Kota had said something to Galen, though whatever it was, he seemed to have a great deal of thinking left to do about it.
Well, good for you, Galen, she thought irritably, as the heavy elevator doors slid shut. Not all of us have the luxury of time, in days such as these.
She was being harsh, she knew that. But – well, she was the one physically carrying the consequences, at the end of the day. And, as far as days went, it had been an extremely long one.
Galen watched Juno leave with an odd mixture of guilt and confusion swirling in his stomach. There was much he had intended to say, and not quite enough courage – or, indeed, the words – to say it. Still, he should be thanking his blessings that Juno was, at least, safe. It was a fact he had overlooked in the initial shock of knowing about her pregnancy, but he was grateful beyond words that Juno had managed to escape safely with the Rebels before coming to his rescue.
If not, he mused, I suspect we would both be dead.
Truthfully, he was not sure what he would do without Juno. He had been given a second chance at living, many years ago, and much of that was fuelled by his feelings for her. Despite everything, he would follow her to the ends of the universe if he had to.
Still, interpersonal relationships had never been his forte. He often struggled, still, with communication and dealing with…. feelings, in general. Even friendship was still a faintly foreign concept to him, as he preferred solitude and locking his thoughts away (from the intrusive gaze of Vader, mostly).
He was better than he used to be, of course, but his dark upbringing had left a longer shadow than he cared to admit. There was a reason that the Rebellion were reluctant to send him on extraction/prisoner missions – Galen, simply put, had never had a reason to take prisoners before. Instinct, to him, was snapping an Imperial's neck before the Imperial in question even saw him coming. Whilst that was useful on assassination missions, the Rebel leadership usually preferred a diplomatic solution to their problems.
(He was, of course, well aware of the below-board goings on of the Rebellion; the intelligence branch of the Alliance was secretive and, at times, ruthless – qualities which suited his skillset perfectly.)
(Anyway, that wasn't the point.)
He wanted – well. He wanted Juno, first and foremost. He had never considered anything beyond that, for the majority of his time in the Alliance. And he wanted the Empire gone. But the idea of a normal life…? Domesticity? Children? It seemed so out of reach, so unattainable for someone like him.
Galen sighed. Brooding around in the hangar bay wasn't going to do anyone any good.
He turned on his heel and head back towards the Rogue Shadow. The hangar was still busy, and he suspected the rest of the ship would be too. He didn't much fancy coming across hordes of Alliance personnel; the peace and quiet of the Shadow was what his current mood preferred.
Unsurprisingly, PROXY was there when he boarded the ship.
"Ah, master!" PROXY was holding a limb in one hand – his right leg – and attempted to stand and hobble over to Galen as he walked up the boarding ramp.
"PROXY, no-" Galen caught PROXY before the poor droid could clatter, one-legged, onto the deck. "What are you doing?"
"Forgive me, master, I ran a self-diagnostic and one of the joints in my right leg were flagging up as being damaged, due to the cold I think," PROXY said, cheerfully. "It is an easy fix, it just needs some readjusting and some oil."
Galen rubbed the bridge of his nose. "PROXY, any of the crew could have helped you, if you'd waited. This is an easy fix."
PROXY was quiet for a moment. "Yes, I suppose it is. However, I calculated that the current emotional state of the crew made it quite impossible to focus on more menial tasks such as droid maintenance. I am quite capable of finishing the task alone."
Galen let out a long sigh. "Give me that leg." He rummaged around, gathering some tools, and sat PROXY up on one of the seats in the common area. Droid maintenance wasn't exactly his area of expertise, but he'd spent long enough patching PROXY up over the years that he knew the basics. With machine oil and a hydrospanner, and some careful use of the welding tools that Juno kept instructing him not to use on the Shadow without supervision, he managed to re-apply PROXY's leg without too much bother.
"Okay, try that." He removed the welding goggles, rubbing the remaining machine oil onto his trousers. The droid moved his re-attached leg, gingerly flexing the joint and walking up and down the length of the room.
"That seems much better! Thank you, master." PROXY continued his pacing, moving his legs up and down. "Oh, I do appreciate not being in the cold anymore."
"You and me both, PROXY," said Galen, truthfully. "I can't stand cold weather."
PROXY nodded. "Then you'll be glad to get on with our next mission. Corulag has, on average, a very pleasant and temperate climate all year round."
The mission. With everything else going on, it was almost the last thing on his mind. It wasn't a difficult mission by any means – just a long one. He had been looking forward to being undercover with Juno for once, but now-
"Master? Is everything all right?"
If droids could look concerned, PROXY clearly was, his photoreceptors blinking at Galen expectantly.
"I'm – I'm fine. Just worried, is all."
"About Captain Eclipse?"
Galen hesitated. "-Yes."
The droid was silent for a moment, the motors in his processor whirring, as if deep in thought.
"I believe the Captain is worried, too," he said. "Perhaps it would cause both of you less worry if you communicated these feelings to one another."
"You make it sound easy, PROX. Humans aren't droids, after all." Galen busied himself with tidying the tools away, setting things in the cockpit back to their original places.
"You are correct. Droids do not have the capability for complicated emotional dilemmas." PROXY moved to help him, inadvertently spilling a box of bolts onto the floor in the process. Galen bit back a laugh.
"Sometimes, PROXY, I wish that humans were the same. Everything would be much easier to understand."
"Yes, I believe it would, master. If I might suggest – in our days working for the Empire, you would often meditate when faced with a difficult decision. Perhaps this will help in your dilemma with Captain Eclipse."
The droid was, Galen reluctantly admitted, absolutely right.
"Alright, PROXY. I'll try that. Stay on guard, okay? Don't let anyone on the ship unless it's someone related to our next mission."
"Affirmative, master."
Galen excused himself to the Rogue Shadow's meditation chamber. He sat down uncomfortably on the hard floor, cross-legged, and tried to clear his mind. Meditating was never something that had come naturally to him; in his days as Vader's apprentice, it was about focusing on the anger and the hate, and with Kota it was about clearing your mind of all that. Two polar opposites, light and dark, black and white. It was a binary that he wasn't sure he fit into. Still, he tried his best. Deep breaths, clear the mind, relax. What did he see?
The humming and bustle of the ships and personnel around him faded away and he was left standing on the smooth surface of the training room floor. It looked different; more like the old Shadow. Before he his 'death', when he and Juno were still working for the Empire. He half expected Juno, her Imperial uniform crisp (her hair, in its messy bun, less so), to barge in to the room, blue eyes demanding.
Sometime soon, you will decide the fate of the Rebellion, not your Master. And when you're faced with that moment, remember that I, too, was forced to leave behind everything I've ever known.
Juno had always been the voice of reason, back then; he had been – and still is, to an extent – reckless and impulsive, quick to anger. Juno could be reckless occasionally, but she had people serving under her, she knew responsibility and maturity. Galen was still trying to figure these things out for himself. He owed Juno a great deal, as if not for her he might not have been able to break free of Vader's grasp. Regardless of his feelings for her at the time, she had saved him.
It was their feelings now that made everything a thousand times more complicated. Juno had held a life-changing truth from him for over three months. He needed time to process, but he wasn't sure how much time they had. They needed to talk, but the more he thought about what to say, the more confused and hurt he felt.
The vision of the old training room wobbled in front of him; his emotions were getting the better of him. Again.
Exhaling heavily, he lay back, the cold durasteel floor providing little comfort.
His dreams, also, preyed heavily on his mind. Now, combined with Juno's news, he worried that it meant something else. Something terrible. His close call with Vader – he'd felt his presence on Hoth, though Vader's presence had been occupied on finding something else – had shaken him more than he'd care to admit, clearly.
He let out a long sigh. He needed to speak to Juno; he knew, at the very least, that that would likely assuage some of his worries.
After what seemed like an age – the turbolift, busy with the influx of extra Rebels, stopped on just about every floor – Juno finally stepped out onto the medical wing of the ship. As the senior medical officer on board, Rillon had his own office, the privacy of which Juno appreciated. She chapped quietly on his door before it slid open.
"Captain! It's been too long." Dr Rillon waved her merrily into his office.
"It's only been six weeks, doctor. You can spare me the dramatics."
"Nonsense. Friends in war are hard to come by, much less friends and good officers."
Juno tilted her head in agreement. "That much is true. How has life been here?"
The twi'lek sighed. "I wish I could say it's been quiet, but, business as usual I'm afraid. Personally, I'm worried that we're losing more than we're recruiting at the moment." He rubbed his brow, tiredly, then forced a smile again, inviting Juno to sit down.
She gratefully accepted the hot drink he also offered her, relishing the feel of hot caf after a long day.
"I suppose I don't need to ask the reason for this visit." He peered at her over a couple of datapads he had gathered on his desk.
"I suppose not," she replied, shrugging. "I've being keeping well - I made sure I took all my vitamins on Hoth, the med droids there – annoying 2-1Bs – were very insistent. But I haven't, ah, seen any other medics. About this."
"I see," said Rillon, slipping from 'friend' to 'doctor' in a blink. "And how are you feeling? Still nauseous?"
Juno shook her head. "No. That wore off shortly after I arrived on Hoth. I'm a little fatigued, though. Always tired. And I'm getting a lot of back pain."
"The back pain is perfectly normal. I'll prescribe you some painkillers, but use only if necessary. The fatigue, on the other hand – are you sleeping properly?"
Juno made a noncommittal gesture with her hand. "Sometimes. I've been under a lot of, um, stress. Galen, he, uh, didn't take the news so well."
The twi'lek frowned. "I thought better of him than that."
"Yeah, well. It's going to take him some time, I think."
"Hmm. With regards to the stress - in most cases, I would normally suggest taking it easy for a few months. However, in your line of work, I'm not sure if that's possible."
Snorting, Juno closed her eyes as the doctor took her blood pressure. "That's an understatement if ever I heard one."
"Just – try not to get yourself into too much trouble. The Core Worlds are dangerous, especially nowadays. You need to take care of yourself, Juno."
Juno sighed. "I'm trying. Galen and I – we'll be fine. I think. I'm trying not to dwell on it whilst the mission is at stake."
Rillon's frown lessened, a little. "If you're sure. I won't press the matter." He bustled around Juno with various small instruments, checking in her eyes and ears as he spoke. "Anyway, returning to the matter at hand, I'd like to do a full body scan if you're comfortable with that. Just to make sure things are coming along as they should be."
"Oh – yes, of course. Juno shrugged off her uniform jacket, moving to lie down on the examination table. Dr Rillon's medical scanner hummed quietly as it moved over her, leaving Juno to her thoughts as he scanned her. She lay there, eyes concentrating on a little spot on the ceiling of the medical bay that looked suspiciously like a crack in the durasteel. Better report that to maintenance, the rational-officer part of her brain mentioned helpfully. The Rebellion's ships are falling apart, though, Juno-the-cynic also supplied.
She closed her eyes, as if to quell her raging thoughts. It worked, at least for the ten or so seconds until the medical scanner beeped twice again, pulling out of her reverie. Finally allowed to move again, she sat up slowly and pulled her jacket back on, noting that it could barely hide her preganant stomach at this point. Dr Rillon, meanwhile, was reading the results, his eyes darting down over the data.
"Well?"
Rillon waited a few moments, obviously re-reading a section, before nodding. "Everything seems fine according to my scans. You might experience some bruising on your wrists and legs from that tussle with the stormtroopers, and your blood pressure is a little higher than I would like, but that's normal given the extreme amount of stress you've experienced over the past 48 hours. Come and see me again just before you redeploy and I'll check it again to make sure it has levelled."
Juno nodded, silently, not wanting to ask but-
"The baby is absolutely fine, Juno. Growing at a healthy rate, I would say, and no health conditions or problems to worry about at this time."
Despite herself, she felt a large weight lift from her shoulders.
"Okay. Okay. That's…great, actually. I haven't – it's finally sinking in now, and I was so worried-"
Her hands shook, and she closed them into fists. Dr Rillon patted her gently on the shoulder. (An action that might, from any other person, seem patronising, but from the kindly Twi'lek it was one of the most comforting things in the galaxy, Juno thought.)
"I know," said the doctor, a hint of sadness in his voice, "I know. This isn't the best time to be bringing a child into the universe but then, the universe doesn't often let us have the choice." He helped Juno stand, then looked in on various medical machines as they beeped readouts at him around the room, typing some commands into his datapad. One of the machines whirred particularly loudly, before ejecting a small piece of flimsiplast into a tray. Rillon picked it up, nodded once, and handed it to Juno.
"Call me sentimental," he said, "But this is for you."
The flimsi had the date and time stamped on the bottom left-hand corner, and a series of (what looked like) grainy, dark-and-white shapes on it. Juno squinted at it a little longer and realised –
Oh.
It was a holo-scan image of her child. The child she was currently carrying inside her. A picture of what they looked like, right at that moment.
She smiled at her friend. "You are sentimental. But… thank you." Slipping the small piece of flimsi into the inside pocket of her jacket, she stood up, dusting off her trousers.
"Anytime, Captain."
"No, I mean it. You've gone above and beyond… you're a good friend." She reached to clasp his shoulder, tightly. He nodded, understanding, and patted the hand on his shoulder gently.
The moment was interrupted by a burst of static from Juno's comlink. She sighed, rolling her eyes.
"Alas, duty calls. I'll come by before I deploy, okay?"
"Juno," said the doctor, "If you do not come past this medical station before you deploy out, I will personally hunt you down and run those tests myself." He was completely deadpan but Juno saw the twinkle in his eyes as he said it.
"Noted," she chuckled.
"Oh, and before you go – I have a friend in the Corulag Medical Corps. Kirahn Quinn. I don't have the clearance to know exactly what you're up to, but he'll be able to help you."
"Corulag Medical Corps?" questioned Juno, frowning at Rillon. An independent organisation, as far as her memory served – or, at least, as independent as one can be under the rule of the Empire. She recalled that the CMC and the Empire had a relatively mutual understanding that if neither interfered in the other's affairs, then they would be left alone. Juno had always been doubtful, mostly because any organisation operating with what essentially counted as permission from the Empire had surely been paid off, handsomely.
"Yes," replied Rillon, clearly noticing Juno's scepticism. "We trained together on Corulag, just after the end of the Clone Wars. He's a good man, and a better doctor."
Juno blinked in disbelief. "You were on Corulag?" She'd never asked about Rillon's past, just as he had never asked about hers.
He nodded once, his expression hard. "Yes. The Republic looked favourably on me when I was young, and I was given the opportunity to leave Ryloth and train off-world. Kirahn became a – a friend of mine, when we were both training." Rillon sighed. "The last I heard, he was still on Corulag."
"I'll seek him out when we arrive there. Human?"
"Yes."
Juno sensed that that was all she was going to be told, for now, but chanced it anyway. "And were you two… close?"
His brow tightened as he hesitated. "Yes. But it's been so long, I – I don't know if he feels the same anymore." Rillon turned away, busying himself with his medical instruments, and Juno knew the conversation was over.
"I'll see you soon, doctor," she said, by way of goodbye, and hastily left the room. Other people's relationships had never been her area of expertise, and that wasn't going to start any time to soon. Thankfully, duty called.
She stepped outside the room, the corridor bustling from all of the extra casualties the fleet was bringing in. As she turned to head towards the turbolift, her comlink buzzed again.
"Juno here," she said, answering it.
"Ah, finally! It's Neve. You busy right now?"
"Not at this very moment, no."
"Good! Me and Gipp are heading to the mess hall. I feel like you could use a good meal or two, Eclipse."
As Neve said it, Juno's stomach rumbled in response. "You might be right," sighed Juno, "I was heading that way anyway, I'll be there as fast as the turbolift can carry me."
"So in about an hour, then?" chuckled Neve, "They're slow as kriff."
"Stars, tell me about it. Something tells me these ships aren't equipped to hold this many rebels at once. See you soon, Neve."
She stepped into the turbolift after an agonizingly long time waiting for it to arrive, and pressed the button for the mess hall floor.
The rest of the journey was spent contemplating the many things she had learnt in Dr Rillon's office. Number one: baby. The baby was fine, thank the universe. Now, she just had to keep it together for the remainder of her pregnancy, and…maybe find a holobook or two on how to be a mother.
Number two: Rillon's mysterious 'friend'. She and Rillon were on good terms, and had been friends since not long after Juno's recruitment into the Alliance. She knew he was from Ryloth, and had run various clinics in the cities there before joining the Rebellion. She didn't know he'd trained on Corulag, however.
"Much to think about," she muttered. Life was never simple, was it?
Rations were a little on the low side thanks to the influx of Alliance personnel on the ship, but the meal Juno picked up was still one of the tastiest she'd ever had. Neve frowned at her with some distaste.
"Please tell me you don't actually find this stuff appetising."
"Neve is right. It'ss disgussting," Gipp helpfully added, her long reptilian tongue prodding at the food sadly. (Neve pulled a face.)
"It's pashi noodles. My favourite," said Juno, indignantly.
"No, this is not pashi noodles. I don't think any seasoning has been anywhere near these noodles." Neve took another bite off of her own plate, and grimaced.
"Well," grumbled Juno, a little annoyed at having been summoned only for her tastes to be criticised, "It's better than the Empire's rations."
Yisha nodded. "Captain Eclipse is right…the Academy….the food they served was like sludge."
"Hmph." Neve's frown deepened. "Well, better to be here, at least." She cleared her throat. "Anyway, that's not why I called you here, Juno."
Juno raised an eyebrow, taking another bite of her noodles. "Go on."
Neve gestured to a table a few over from them. "See that Twi'lek there? The lady with the orange jumpsuit?"
"Yeah. That's General Syndulla, Neve, everyone knows who she is."
"Okay, fine. Well, I found out recently that she has a son."
"Oh?" This was evidently news to the rest of the table – Jesman, Yisha, Starter and Ari, who had been eating their food in silence – as everyone looked up at Neve with confused expressions. The Sullustan nodded.
"Gipp found out from someone who used to be part of Phoenix Squadron before they joined the Rebellion. He's about three now, I think."
"Oh." This was a surprise to Juno. She had met the General a number of times over the years, and Juno had always been impressed by her ability to inspire loyalty in her fighters. Stories of Phoenix Squadron always sounded a little fantastical – They got the Empire to leave Lothal completely? No way! – but Juno had no doubts that they were true after having met Hera and what was left of the Lothal crew in person.
She had no idea that the General had given birth to a child in the middle of all that.
"It'ss not exactly a ssecret," Gipp added, "The boy iss practically a full-time member of their crew, from what this one heard."
"And his father?" Juno had never heard reports of the General having a romantic partner, or indeed any family. She couldn't imagine Hera Syndulla having a domestic life on the surface of some planet somewhere.
"A Jedi. He died, in the final battles on Lothal."
Juno's heart twisted in sympathy. Galen had died, once, and it had torn her apart for the year she thought him dead. Work, her duties with the Rebellion, had kept her going, but she'd felt like a shell of a person. She wouldn't wish it on anyone, but it was inevitable in the Rebellion's line of work.
"Kanan Jarrus? I've heard of him. But – I had no idea that he and Hera were-"
"Not a lot of people outside their cell knew," replied Neve. "But my brother was friendly with one of their fighters and he mentioned it once. I think the General would like to keep it that way, for the record."
Juno waved a hand. "Don't worry, I wasn't going to tell anyone. Why are you telling me this, anyway?"
The Sullustan cleared her throat. "Well, I – I overheard you on the comm to Marek."
("I think everyone did," added Gipp, who got an elbow in the side from Neve for her efforts.)
"Yeah, I figured," sighed Juno.
"Yeah. Well, you were acting like it was, you know, the worst thing in the world. You looked real sad that whole journey, and I wondered kind of crap the Empire had drummed into you way back when you flew for them."
Termination was the word that came to mind when Juno thought of the consequences, had she still been part of the Empire. Either herself, or her child. She distantly remembered a female cadet, a few years older than her, sobbing gently into her pillow at night over a similar scenario.
"They made me choose," she'd said, as Juno (young, so young for the hardships of the Academy) had gone to check on her. "It was me, or my baby. That wasn't a choice I ever wanted to make."
The Empire had never given this girl a third option, to leave and keep both mother and child alive. No, the Imperial way was total control of their citizens, and they applied this with iron grip to their fighters, too. Their students. If every single person in the Academy learnt to fear the system, there would never be a chance of anyone rising up to oppose them.
"There wasn't much of a choice, in the Empire." It wasn't worth explaining further; Juno had done her time with the Empire. Her choice to leave might not have been entirely hers, but her decision to stay with the Rebellion had been hers alone.
"No," said Neve, sombrely, "I suspected there wouldn't be."
"We jusst wanted to say that we don't really care. About any of that." Gipp's statement quickly drew some alarmed stares from the rest of the table. She quickly waved her arms. "I – I mean. You're sstill Captain Eclipsse to the Rebellion, it doessn't matter whether you are pregnant or not."
Neve nodded. "Yes. Kind of what Gipp said. The whole point of this – we just wanted to say that we've got your back, Eclipse. You know. About your little secret."
"Pff. It's not so secret anymore, it seems." Juno raised an eyebrow, surprised by Neve's sincerity.
"No, I know. But I mean – it's hard enough to deal with, on your own. You need friends, people who stick with each other. This mission is still going ahead so – so I just wanted to make it known. We're sticking together, right?"
This kind of earnest honesty was unusual coming from someone such as Neve, sarcasm being like a second language to the woman. Juno was genuinely touched – she swallowed a few times, trying to form words.
"I – thank you. You have no idea how much this means to me."
"Well. You're ex-Empire, and all that. They don't teach you how to make friends there." Starter, having been previously silent, spoke suddenly. "We need all the friends we can get, these days."
He was right, of course. They all were. Juno had spent so much of her life either alone or closed off from other people. The concept of having 'friends' wasn't something she was overly familiar with; even after joining the Rebellion, she could count the number of people she trusted completely on one hand. It would be nice to have…more.
There was a small, annoying voice in the back of Juno's mind that told her the more friends you have, the more people you have to lose. Juno Eclipse, ex-TIE fighter captain, doesn't deserve that kind of loyalty, not after everything you've done.
But then, despite everything, there were still people who were willing to take a chance on her. On anyone who was ex-Empire. Rebellions are built on hope, someone had once told her, but they were also built on knowing that what you were doing was worth every moment spent fighting against the Empire.
"Still," said Neve, "Your idea of 'good food' sucks, Eclipse. I'm not giving you that."
"Fair enough," Juno grinned, as the rest of the table rolled their eyes. Inside her, she felt a little wiggle of movement – approval, maybe, of the delicious food Juno was feeding it – from the baby, growing and kicking.
Yes, things were difficult – but for the first time, Juno felt a little hopeful about the future. She just needed to talk to Galen – resolve whatever mess they had found themselves in. It was a daunting task, and not one that Juno was particularly looking forward to. She loved Galen, so fighting with him felt so very wrong in her mind. Still, it had to be done. She was Captain Juno Eclipse of the Rebel Alliance.
She had surely faced worse.
Cipher sits on the other side of the cafeteria, waiting. Always waiting. Half the job of being a spy is waiting. Watching. Listening.
Why are Rebels always so careless with their secrets? Cipher presses 'end record' on their adapted comlink, knowing they had exactly what they came for. Oh, and more.
Meanwhile, Rebel leaders were in a mild panic because Princess Leia and two of the Rebellion's most valuable droids – plus Han Solo and that Wookiee, two of their best pilots – had not arrived at the rendezvous point. Leia was valuable to the Rebellion because she was extremely persuasive and a strong leader, and carried an air of grace that made even the staunchest Imperial captain sit up and listen to her. She had respect, and if the Rebellion loses that – well.
Cipher allowed themselves a small smile as they pushed the regulation sludge around their plate. Yes, things were looking to be in disarray, indeed.
Their next mission would be sure to change everything.
A/N: Thanks for reading! Please leave a review and let me know what you think. This is now the only fic I am updating here on , so if you want to read any of my newer fics then head over to AO3 for more shenanigans there! The link is in my profile :)