FEARLESS
Swain tries again to find a way offworld.
It wasn't the worst idea. In fact it was one of her better options. Swain double-checked the security protocols she'd installed before booting up the holoprojector.
So she couldn't comm Sabine or any of the Ghost's crew. At first it had seemed like a dead end, but then she realized she could reach out to their associates. Those people would presumably also have a way to pick them up and might not balk at a couple of defectors from the Lothal complex.
After that epiphany it was a matter of finding and picking the right contact. Old Jho the restaurant owner had been involved in Tua's attempted escape, so he would be no use. The smuggler Vizago seemed pretty sketchy, Hondo Ohnaka was an automatic no, and then she stumbled on an incident report filed by a Commander Earll.
It seemed that the Ghost crew had picked up Senator Nadea Tural of the planet Thrad after a starship crash and Earll's squad had boarded their ship to retrieve her. The mission was set to be a massive success, with the senator in hand and the rebels neutralized and lined up against the wall for execution until the senator intervened. She'd grabbed Earll's blaster hand, the shot went wild, and in the chaos the rebels got the upper hand and repelled the boarding party.
Earll had of course reported the treasonous activity. But Senator Tural turned out to be a slippery being with an excellent lawyer, and danced her way out of prison. She was back in her senatorial pod as if nothing had happened. Except a few times when the senator made her way offworld, Imperial personnel tended to disappear.
Pilots. Officers. Stormtroopers. All listed as MIA in weeks or months after Tural had contact with the ships or planets they were stationed on. There was no explanation for what had happened to them; they'd simply vanished. Swain held her breath when she examined their files and then she felt a surge of hope so great it made her dizzy.
Because if she was right, then Senator Tural was arranging defections.
Surely someone else had picked up on this, but Tural was still getting away with it. Swain might as well hop aboard the train while it was running.
She steeled her nerves and dialed Tural's frequency. Here went nothing.
After a moment the holoprojector displayed the likeness of a Thradian woman who seemed much calmer than most to have an Imperial officer on the holoprojector.
"Senator Tural?"
"Yes officer, how may I help you?" Her voice was high-pitched but calm, like a soprano at the opera.
"I understand you've worked with other officers in the past." Swain swallowed hard. "I commed to ask if you might do the same for me."
"I see." Tural's round, dark eyes looked her up and down and Swain prayed she couldn't see her trembling. On the other hand, maybe that would help convince the senator of her sincerity. "May I ask the nature of this request?"
How did you say "defection" without actually saying it? "Some of my colleagues … died." Murdered, either in front of or at the hands of my father. "And I'm at a loss. I believe I'm in danger myself and I need an outside influence to help me with my next course of action." The trembling in her hands crept into her voice and she cleared her throat. "I, um, I –."
"Officer, you seem very stressed. Do you need some time off?" Tural leaned on the final words.
The world suddenly became blurry. "Yes," Swain choked. "I do. A lot of it."
"Don't worry. I'm an expert at arranging extended leave. Is this line secured?"
Swain nodded and swiped at her eyes. Tural examined a few things on her side of the holofield, presumably her own comm equipment.
"What's your name?"
"Swain."
"Hello Swain, my name is Nadea. You can call me that or Senator Tural, whichever is more comfortable for you." She smiled kindly, and with the practiced ease of someone who'd done this many times before. "Will you elaborate a bit more on how your coworkers died and why you need this time off?"
"It was, uh, a workplace incident involving a lightsaber and an exploding shuttle."
"Ah. And you worry you might be next?"
"My mentor is a prominent man and we're both worried someone might target me to get to him. Even if I'm not, I don't want to be somewhere employees drop like flies."
"Does your mentor have any resources or protections you can take advantage of in the short term?" Tural asked. "It's not a permanent solution, but it may help keep you safe."
"He's prominent, but not powerful enough to hold back an attack from the upper ranks. He's an ISB agent."
Tural's eyes widened. "Which makes you –."
"An ISB trainee."
"I see," Tural took a deep breath and blew it out. "I can't say I've worked with a Bureau member before."
"I realize it might complicate things."
"You're correct. I usually don't ask for this much personal information from someone I've just met, but understand I need to take a few more precautions arranging your leave. Now, I'll need to know your rank, serial number, and where you're stationed."
Swain told her and Tural asked where she was born. How long had she lived in Coronet City? What drove her to enroll in the Academy? Why had she chosen the ISB track?
"At first it was because I wanted to help people," Swain answered. "And that's still true, but the further I went with my training, the more I noticed that I had power for the first time in my life. My class would walk into a room and everyone would stop talking. It was intoxicating. It made me feel big."
"That's a normal reaction, especially when you've never had agency," Tural said gently.
"That doesn't make it right."
"No, it makes you a child who was being manipulated by your superiors and later had the courage and self-awareness to realize what was going on."
The next series of questions were hypotheticals. What would Swain do if she found a wallet full of credits? If she hit a parked speeder and no one saw? If she saw someone who needed help while she was on an important and time-sensitive assignment? She wasn't sure what kind of responses Tural was looking for so she answered them as honestly as possible before they discussed her service at the Lothal garrison.
Swain didn't hold back. Everything would come out eventually and she didn't want them to think she had something to hide. She told Tural about the children and the spice den, about Aresko and Grint, and her accidental involvement in Tua's murder.
"It's bad. I did a lot, a lot of bad things."
"I know I keep asking about your past but believe it or not, it's not as important as what you do next." Tural waited for a reply and when Swain didn't produce one, prompted her for it. "So, what do you plan to do with your leave?"
She didn't even hesitate. "Help."
"How can you help? What skills do you have?"
"You want my résumé?"
"Just the high points."
"It mostly speaks for itself. I've been trained in combat, espionage, and criminology, with a focus in criminal psychology. I wanted to be a profiler like my training officer." It took everything she had for her voice not to crack when she talked about her former dream. "I would be useful in most military situations, and I'm willing to do what it takes for someone to take a chance on me. I don't have anywhere else to go. I'll do anything, just please please get me out of here!"
"Swain, your occupation complicates things but I'm not one to abandon someone in need. We'll help you."
Swain felt the blood rush to her head. "You'll get me out?"
"I'll do everything I can," Tural promised. "Now there are a few logistical concerns I need to address. I take it from what you said about Corellia that your mother is not a concern. Do you have any other family who might be targeted once you leave?"
"My dad will be fine and my only other family is my boyfriend, who wants out too."
"I'll have to vet him too." Swain nodded understanding. "Are there any imminent safety issues? Are you in danger of discovery?"
"No. We're about as stable as we can get while still working for the Empire."
"Good. It may take a while to set up transport, but rest assured it will come and when it does I'll give you the date. Until then, we will have regular check-ins on this frequency."
"Understood. Any code phrases?"
"I'll verify you by hologram." She nodded. "Have courage, my friend. Help is on its way."
…
As soon as Cogon's apartment door shut behind her, Swain said "We're getting out."
Cogon lit up. "She's going to do it?"
Swain nodded. "She wants to talk to you on our next check-in, but that's just a formality. She said she would find us a ride. Brent, we're leaving."
"We're leaving," he echoed. Without warning he grabbed her up and spun her around the kitchen. "That's amazing! You're amazing."
"I didn't do anything," Swain protested.
"You figured it out and you commed her. You're the reason she's helping us at all." She hedged and Brent playfully rolled his eyes. "Hannah, will you please admit that I have an awesome girlfriend?"
Swain looked into his eyes and her resolve melted. "Fine. But only if I get to tell everyone how great my boyfriend is."
"Really? How great is he?"
"He's incredible," she sighed dreamily. "He's the best dancer I've ever seen, he volunteers at a tooka shelter —."
"Sounds familiar. Do I know him?"
"—and he never steals my fries at lunch."
Cogon laughed. "Forget it. Never met him."
"No one can compare to Cent Brogon." Swain shook with laughter. "We're going to have a great life together full of happiness and fries."
"As long as you don't mind sharing."
"What, do you plan to keep stealing my food?"
"Yeah, and I imagine that any kids we have will inherit the trait."
"Kids." She repeated. "Fry-stealing kids."
She'd barely allowed herself to consider a life with Cogon, and when she did it always seemed hazy and far away. But now, with a plan in place and Senator Tural on their side?
She could see it. Taste it, even. A life together, far away from the Empire and away from fear.
It seemed closer than ever.
…
In a thoroughly debugged room on Coruscant, Senator Tural paced the floor and weighed her options.
Swain's biographical details checked out. She hadn't lied about her family or homeworld, nor the incidents at the Lothal Complex. But was she lying about her change of heart?
Tural doubted it. She'd seen many defectors over her service to the rebellion and they all had one thing in common: the all-consuming fear she'd seen reflected in Swain's eyes. ISB agents were highly trained manipulators, but you couldn't fake fear like that. She'd been shaking like a leaf during the entire conversation. Tural was pretty sure she could trust the young woman and if her boyfriend was anything like her, then he was probably trustworthy as well.
The question now was when and how to get them out. Swain said they were stable, but Tural knew how quickly situations could deteriorate, especially if ISB was involved. (And gods, they had never been so involved).
She could manage some defections by herself. If a stormtrooper wanted to live a simple life and keep their head down, it was simply a matter of taking them to a quiet planet in the Outer Rim. This wouldn't be so simple. She needed transport, she needed a rebel cell willing to take a high-risk defector, security to deal with the inevitable involvement of ISB, which meant it was time to defer to her superior. That wasn't something to sit on either. Her contact was in high demand and never seemed to have enough staff; it might take her a while to get to this.
Tural plugged in her handler's frequency and waited for the unit to connect. There was no visual; the contact was much too secretive for that.
"This is Tural," she said. "I have a package for you with the potential to become very delicate."
The unit spat out a burst of static from the contact's voice modulation software.
"This is Mollymauk. Go ahead, Tural."