NUMB LITTLE BUG
Swain begins the process of putting her life back together, and receives shocking news from Yularen.
"The Empire, predictably, purged everything about post-traumatic stress disorder from the HoloNet," Bernard said. "Luckily the university's library goes back farther than that." He deposited a few data texts on the desk in front of Swain and Dalla.
"Thank you again for digging these up," Dalla told her husband.
"Of course. I took the liberty of reading through them and they talk a lot about the signs and symptoms. While I'm not a doctor, I admit it sounds like Hannah and Brent."
Swain nodded. She'd known that even before she knew that her experience was a disorder.
"Dr. Niamh remembers it from medical school," Dalla said. "She confirmed that you meet the criteria and said she was willing to help any way she could."
"Did the texts say anything about treatment?" Swain picked one up and started scrolling.
"That's what most of them cover," Bernard said. "It looks like there are a few medications which can be prescribed to mitigate the symptoms."
"I'd like to avoid taking anything if at all possible."
"It might be. Everything I've read says that talk therapy is the first line treatment for PTSD."
"Talk therapy?" Swain repeated. "Like a shrink?"
"Unfortunately the rebellion doesn't have many of those," Dalla said. "And by that, I mean there are no licensed mental health professionals who can see you."
"Okay. So then we keep looking, or wait for a spot to open up?"
"Genna suggested another option. Her sister-in-law has been studying with an old cleric who specializes in trauma. She agreed to speak with you over the dryer comm once a week and Genna will disguise it as a regular salon appointment."
Swain worked to wrap her head around it. "So I would just go to the salon and talk to her, and that'll help?"
"She's not licensed, nor has she taken any official classes, but at the moment she's our best option," Dalla admitted. "But the final choice of course rests with you."
What option did she have? She couldn't just sit here and do nothing. "Okay. I can at least talk to her a few times and see how it goes."
"I think that's a great place to start," Dalla said. "If you don't feel comfortable talking to her, just let me know and we'll look for other options."
Not that those grew on trees. Swain prayed that this therapy worked out. And so with butterflies in her stomach she went to the salon after hours and knocked.
"Hannah," Genna unlocked the door and ushered her in. "Come in. How are you?"
"A little nervous," Swain admitted and removed her coat.
"That's normal," Genna promised and showed her to the dryer comm. "It's a heads-up display, like a helmet. You pull the hood down and you'll be able to see and hear her during your session."
Swain took a seat in the dryer chair and examined the electronics. It was an impressive unit, installed with the latest technology and meticulously maintained.
"If you need anything I'll be upstairs," Genna said after pointing out the call buttons and volume controls. "I told the girls to stay out so you'll have privacy."
"Thank you again," Swain fidgeted with her hands. "Dalla said this was all your idea."
"I'm happy to help. And I think you'll find her to be a great listener." Genna smiled and walked up the back stairs to her apartment, leaving Swain alone.
No point in drawing it out. Swain took a deep breath and keyed the comm code for her apparent therapist.
The woman who picked up was the last thing she expected. She had blonde hair trimmed into a pageboy style and wore plastoid armor
"Hello Hannah," she chirped. "I'm Omega. It's nice to meet you."
…
The docs were right, talk therapy did help. Omega taught Swain some strategies to keep herself grounded in stressful situations so she wouldn't freeze again. Sometimes they talked about her emotions and Omega suggested ways to help, and sometimes Swain talked and Omega just listened. She didn't realize how much that could help.
Omega suggested a regular exercise regimen, and Swain took to swimming in the calm bay leading into the ocean. She usually went in the morning or when Cogon was attending his own therapy. Not only did it help rebuild her strength, but it made her feel better mentally too.
"Course it does," Sloan said when she'd told him about her breakthrough. "You're a selkie, you belong in the water."
"By that logic so do you." She slugged him. Not long after that Dalla cleared her to go back to work and they did runs together, picking up contraband and stopping for fries on the way back.
And so the months went by. They bopped from Blackhold to Iziz as the network demanded, occasionally going on runs. Swain learned how to wrangle clients and manage sales over the comm, which lessened the burden on Dalla. Swain couldn't help but smile when Dalla went home in time to see her son before bed.
Against all odds, they were happy. Swain smiled at the framed holo on her desk in Iziz.
"There's the anniversary girl!" Sloan swaggered into her office, grinning. "How was your date night?"
"Great," Swain replied. Over the weekend she and Brent had celebrated their one-year wedding anniversary, and marked the occasion with a night on the town. "We went to that fancy restaurant downtown, the one Bernard recommended."
"With the candles on the tables? I went there with Ellie, once."
She nodded. "It was really nice. We're definitely going back for our next anniversary."
"And that's the real victory. You've made it through one year of marriage and you're willing to go back for another. Now I've just got to compare your account with Brent's and we'll find out if it's going to work out."
"Oh it's gonna work out," Cogon said from the doorway. "Because I'm definitely willing to go back for a repeat performance."
"Brent Cogon, you cog." Sloan grabbed him into a headlock and ruffled his hair.
"Babe, help me!" Cogon squealed through his laughter.
"Break it up," Swain laughed and reached over her desk to swat them apart.
"My hero." Her husband sobered up. "Hey, Dalla wants you and I in her office. I think she was talking on the comm."
"Let's not keep her waiting."
Dalla's expression was unreadable when they entered the office. She wasn't arguing on the comm, or tossing trash at her voodoo poster, so she couldn't have been talking to Cid or Lux.
"Close the door behind you, please." She said, and once Cogon obliged and they'd both taken a seat, she keyed her holocomm and Yularen popped up.
"Grandfather!" Swain grinned. "It's good to see you. Thank you for the anniversary card."
"A pleasure as always, my little star." Yularen said. "Though I wish it could be under happier circumstances."
"What do you mean?"
"I've received confirmation from rebel command and from Yularen that the Lothal rebel cell successfully removed the Imperial presence from the system," Dalla said.
"What?" Cogon gasped the same moment Swain squeaked. "How?"
"It appears they utilized Protocol 13 and recalled all troops to the Dome. Then, once everyone was inside, they engaged flight control," Yularen said.
Cogon's jaw dropped. "So they literally took the Empire off the planet?"
Dalla and Yularen looked at each other.
"The Dome was rigged with thermal detonators," Dalla said. "The rebels set a flight path for over the sea, and then triggered the charges. There were no survivors."
It took a moment for the reality to settle in, but once it did Swain looked to Cogon, horrified.
"We would be dead," he whispered. "If we'd stayed with the Empire … we'd be dead now."
She couldn't reply. Not when she knew who definitely was on the Dome when it exploded.
"I'm so sorry, both of you," Dalla said softly.
"Do you have the casualty list?" Cogon asked. "It's been a while since we were there, and some of our friends might have gotten transferred before."
"I sent it to Dalla just now," Yularen said. "Young lady, it should be on your datapad momentarily."
"It is." Dalla tapped the 'pad a few times and handed it to Cogon. "I'll give you two a moment to look it over."
She minimized Yularen's hologram and took it with her, leaving Swain and Cogon in the office.
Cogon scrolled through the datapad first calmly, and then with more and more distress.
"It's my entire department," he said, shaking. "All the techs, my roommate, the patrol troopers…"
Swain hugged him and read over his shoulder.
Selig, Kyle
Henningsen, Erika
Swain swallowed hard as Erika's teasing smile appeared in her mind's eye. She had been a good roommate, introduced Swain and Cogon, even lent Swain clothes for her date. Right before Swain ran off, Erika confided that she was ready to ask Selig out.
Now they would never get to have a life together. Had they at least gotten to enjoy a few dates?
"They didn't deserve it," Cogon whispered.
No, they didn't. Not Selig or Erika, or the front desk clerk with her hand sanitizer collection, or the disturbing number of cadets on the list. And neither did…
Swain cautiously reached over to the datapad and scrolled through the list herself. She looked through the Ks twice, and then in the Cs in case the scribe had made a mistake. She looked for every Alexsandr, Alex, or Alexei on the list.
Cogon read her mind. "I don't see him."
"He has to be here. There's no way he wouldn't have been on the Dome."
"Maybe he was on a patrol, or offworld. The important thing is that he didn't die."
"He didn't," Swain said, and didn't know how to feel.
"You okay?"
"Yeah," she said. "No. I … I don't know. I don't want Kallus to be dead, but if he was then at least I would know what happened to him."
It was complicated, and guilty, and she hated it.
She changed the subject. "I'm sorry about your department. I know you really cared about them."
"I did, but they weren't my dad. I know it's complicated, but I'm sorry too."
Swain had the best husband in the whole universe. "Thank you, honey."
…
While Swain and Cogon were looking at the datapad, Dalla and Yularen spoke in the adjacent office.
"The padawan Bridger towed Thrawn and the Chimaera into Wild Space, if you can believe it," he reported. "Rescue squads found them, but Thrawn will no doubt have his hands full and he's given no indication that he plans to move in on you."
"Why would he do that?"
"My only theory is that he thinks he can get something out of it."
"That trumps the rebellion's financial ruin?" Dalla shuddered to think of what that could be.
"He always has some larger plan. He knows I was involved in Hannah's escape. He taunted me, what he made me do…" Yularen hung his head.
Thrawn had done something last year which made Yularen comm Dalla in tears. Between sobs, he'd managed to report that Thrawn knew something, "my dear boy," and "knows I can only manage one escape." Out of respect for him, she had never brought up the incident again.
"Could he have reported his findings to someone?"
"There's no record of it. I've been watching, and will continue to watch for as long as I'm able." He promised. "Take care of that granddaughter of mine."
"You know I will." Dalla changed the subject. "She's doing a lot better ever since she started with the therapy and medications. It's a process, but I think she's going to be alright."
"I know she is. She's a Yularen. And you take care of yourself, young lady."
"I'll try, Colonel."
…
Years ago northern sailors built a small salt gods' sanctuary along the river leading into Iziz, and it was this sanctuary that Swain and Cogon visited the night of the Dome explosion.
No one else was there at that time of night, so they walked in silence to the front of the building and lit a brylk oil lantern.
"For Selig and Erika?" She asked.
Cogon nodded. "And for Kallus."
"In the light of the salt gods."
They lit the lantern together.