ABOARD THE MALACHOR, 40 YEARS ABE:
Stella had no idea if the security cams in the corner of the room were active or not; had she been in charge, she would have been monitoring herself carefully, but she figured the odds were about fifty-fifty that whoever managed security for this sector of the Super Star Destroyer would turn off this room's holocam in an attempt to insulate themselves from whatever Imperial Intelligence was ostensibly doing on board the Malachor.
Were this a Sabacc tournament Stella would have played those odds with glee, but the stakes right now were a lot higher than mere credits. Better safe than sorry, for once-so she elected to act as though the holocameras were on and recording. Thus instead of lounging back in the chair that Major Gatterweld had procured for her, she forced herself to sit neatly, as though she really were some dursasteel-spined Imperial officer. She didn't even dare pull up some brainless time-wasting game on her datapad; turning the device on would open it up to potential scanning by Imperial monitors, which would reveal that it was just an ordinary datapad without any military security protocols to protect the bio-coded message she was supposed to be carrying.
Instead she sat, doing nothing and trying not to fidget, and wondered how Bail and Finn were doing. She hoped they hurried. Terror and boredom did not mingle well, and Stella was eager to be gone. It had been her idea to impersonate an agent of Imperial Intelligence, but that didn't make actually doing so anything but nerve-wracking.
When the door to the small meeting room in which Gatterweld had deposited her hissed open, Stella nearly jumped out of her chair at the sudden noise-and when she saw who stepped through the door, she did.
"My apologies for the delay, agent," the general was saying as she entered, brushing at her uniform as though to dispel the inevitable wrinkles of travel. Stella caught a glimpse of the unhappy Major Gatterweld making a quick retreat back down the hallway before the door snapped shut again. "Your initial message must have gone astray, I only just now received Major Gatterweld's communication that you were looking for m-Stella?"
General Avoria Vensell was a short, lovely woman whose wrinkles did more to add dignity to her appearance than to detract from her beauty. Her round cheeks seemed made for smiling, which made her looks appear ill-suited to the severity of her Imperial uniform. That severity was compounded by the tightness of the bun that held her graying hair back from her high forehead and immaculately-curved eyebrows.
Right now those eyebrows were lifted high in shock and her mouth hung open, gaping.
Stella looked no less flustered, her own eyes wide as credcoins as she stared back at the general. "I-yes, uh," she stammered, trying to pull herself together before it was too late. "Well, that's understandable, it...these things happen, and the important thing is, uh...that you're here now…"
"What are you doing here?" Vensell's eyes raked across Stella, taking in her borrowed uniform and rank insignia, and narrowing with displeasure. "Why are you dressed like that? Stella, what is this?"
"Er," Stella said, stealing a glance back over her shoulder at the holocam tucked in the corner of the ceiling. "I…"
Vensell pulled a handheld comm from her pocket and twisted it, then thumbed the transmission button three times in quick succession. "That will cut the holocams in here for the next two time-parts," she explained flatly. "Provided anyone had the guts to monitor an agent of 'Imperial Intelligence' in the first place...Stella, what are you doing?"
"Nice to see you too, Mama Avi." Stella mustered a weak smile and shrugged. "For what it's worth, I didn't think they'd actually get you to come."
"Oh Stella." Vensell pressed a hand to her cheek and shook her head. "What am I supposed to do with you now, precious peril?"
Stella winced. "Are you going to call security?" she asked. Her voice was small and there wasn't much of a question in her tone; Avoria Vensell was an Imperial General, and Stella was effectively an enemy combatant. There was no way she was aboard this ship for anything but nefarious purposes. Now that Vensell had seen her, she would have little choice but to turn her in…
"I should." Vensell tapped her comm unit. She took a deep breath. She let it out in a short, heavy huff. Then she smiled weakly and said, "But I think I'd prefer a hug."
All of the tension melted out of Stella's limbs and she practically wilted forward to enfold the shorter woman in her arms. "Of course, mama," she said. "You never have to ask for one of those."
"Even if I'm handing you over to ship's security?" Vensell asked drily.
Stella laughed into the general's gray shoulder. "Even then," she assured her one-time mother.
"Well." They separated, Vensell smoothing her uniform before settling herself in the chair beside Stella's as neatly as though this were a planned meeting to discuss troop movements or tariff results. "I expect this will be the end of my career, so let's not compound the situation by you telling me what you're doing here," Vensell said. Her voice was heavy with regret but the expression on her face was clear and calm. "Let us instead talk about why I'm here?"
"You weren't supposed to be." Stella sighed and sat down. She didn't bother maintaining Imperial posture now, but slumped in her seat with all the languid elegance of a born conwoman. "You were supposed to be on Bastion, too far away to make it here before I left. They were supposed to think you were just some random high-ranking officer whose name I'd dropped as a subterfuge. At worst, you'd have had investigators poking around at you for a few days; when they didn't find anything, they'd move on and everything would go back to normal for you."
"Ah," said Vensell, nodding. "A good plan. Alas, we left 'supposed to' behind some time ago."
Stella's grin was more of a grimace. She glanced sideways at the walls of the Super Star Destroyer that had so recently conquered Coruscant, a ship that by all rights shouldn't even exist. "Tell me about it."