SONG OF THE SEA

Years before Kallus learned of what the Empire had done to Swain, the same revelation spurred Yularen to rescue her and Cogon. But just because you've escaped Imperial custody doesn't mean your ordeal is over. Swain's staring down a long road of recovery, but at least she doesn't have to walk it alone.

The stars turned into streaks as the shuttle made the jump to hyperspace and Swain and Cogon collapsed into the pilot's chair.

"We did it," Cogon gasped and unwound his arm from her shoulders. "I can't believe we did it."

"We're not out of this yet." Lacking the support from each other she had to brace herself on the dashboard to reach the controls. With a shaking hand Swain keyed in the distress code Senator Tural gave them so long ago, the one she hadn't had the chance to use on Thrad, and prayed it would still work.

It seemed like eons before the senator's image popped up. It took a second before she placed them. "My stars! Cogon, Swain, is that you?"

"Senator Tural," Cogon grimaced as he tried to reposition. "We got away from the Empire. I know we don't have the datapad or anything that could help you find Beneda, but … they did something to my leg. I can't get far on it. And Hannah needs a doctor. Please Senator," he lowered his voice. "They cut her. It's bad."

Senator Tural glanced in Swain's direction and didn't like what she saw. "Where are you now?"

"Hyperspace. We're heading for …" he looked to Swain who had programmed the navicomputer.

"Onderon." It was the one place she could think of where Kallus would never come looking for them.

Senator Tural nodded. "I have a contact there who should be able to help. Maintain your course and I'll arrange for her to meet you when you land. If anyone can get you to safety, she can."

"Thank you, Senator."

"I only wish I could have delivered you safely the first time. May the gods go with you, my friends." And then her hologram fizzled out.

A moment of silence went by before Swain thought of something to do. "There might be a medkit on board for your leg. I'll go look for it."

Cogon shook his head. "You take it. I'm already healed over."

"You can barely walk. I'll be fine" she protested. Nevermind she felt like her eyes would boil in her head.

"That's a lie and you know it."

"Even if it is I'll need more than a medkit. We can at least do something for you." Using the dashboard as leverage she pushed herself all the way out of her seat and made her way along the bulkhead to the cockpit storage bin. The universal medical symbol stared back at her. Thank the gods.

"Fine," Cogon relented. "As long as you take some of the bacta."

"Deal," she opened the pack and blinked to focus on the labels. This was an extraordinarily well-stocked medkit; it almost looked like there were two of everything.

"Hannah?" Cogon's voice sounded like it was coming from far away.

Swain didn't have time to reply before she slid down the bulkhead, contents of the medkit scattering everywhere.

"Hannah!"

…

"Are you Swain and Cogon?"

"Yes! Please help — I can't get her off the floor."

Swain vaguely heard someone drop to their knees beside Cogon, and opened her eyes. A dark-haired woman with a crooked nose stared back at her.

"Swain, I'm Dalla. You're safe now." The woman looked over her shoulder and shouted down the corridor: "Sloan!"

Next thing she knew they were putting a heavy shirt onto her that looked like the sailor's clothing she'd seen in holobooks growing up on Corellia, and a one-eyed man threw her arm over his shoulder.

"If anyone stops us, pretend to be drunk," Dalla ordered and helped a similarly-dressed Cogon to his feet. "No one should think twice about a captain dragging sailors back after shore leave."

"She's burning up. Do we have medical?" The one-eyed man forgot about dragging Swain and threw her over his shoulder instead.

"Gretchen's standing by and Bernard's found beds at the Keep. I just hope we're not too late."

Swain didn't remember much between that moment and when she came to with a foreign bobbing motion and the smell of water over a group of people singing: " - now the mollymauk glides on them great white wings -."

It was beautiful music but the sound made her head hurt. She closed her eyes against it and buried her face into the pillow.

It didn't do anything to muffle the sound of Sloan speaking across the tiny room. "She gonna make it?"

"She's better but we're not out of the rocks yet and I don't think she can tolerate the trip to the Keep," a woman said. "She clearly didn't have any post-op care after that surgery. Did the boyfriend tell you anything else about it?"

"He doesn't know much. Just … try to keep her alive, okay? Dal had to scrub her whole circuit on Thrad trying to get these two out and I'll be kriffed if it was really all for nothing."

So Dalla was supposed to transport them to Klonoid. The pieces clicked in Swain's foggy mind. That was why Senator Tural had managed to emerge undetected, and why the transport had purposely plunged to the ground. They were trying to cover up a massive smuggling nexus.

"How's the boyfriend doing?" the woman asked.

"He can drag himself around with a cane but the rocking isn't doing him any favors. Every time I go in there he asks about her. Are you sure he can't come in?"

"He can come in when she stops talking off her head. Poor kid. Some of the things she says just break my heart."

She was talking off her head? Gods let her not have done that in front of the wrong person!

"Same from him. Alright Gretchen, keep me posted."

Despite the headache Swain turned to face them. Maybe they would tell her what she said and she could do damage control.

Gretchen noticed. "Hannah, you're okay. You're on a ship and whoever Beck is, she's not here."

She knew about Beck?! "What did I…"

"You have a very high fever. It's all I can do to keep you from cooking," she said and wrung out a cool rag to switch out the one on Swain's forehead. "Go back to sleep. If you're doing okay a little later we might be able to have a visit from your boyfriend."

And then she was out again.

When she woke again Beck was standing over her.

"I'm sorry to wake you," Beck said in a tone she'd never taken with Swain before, while the young woman stared up at her in horror. "You were having a terrible dream."

She knew it wasn't a dream. It was so real - hyperspace, and the ship, and Cogon's panicked scream as she fell. The only explanation was that Beck intercepted the ship with Sloan, and Gretchen, and Cogon… Swain forced herself not to think of them. Beck would do plenty of that for her, and the best way to honor them now would be not to let their sacrifice be in vain. The Empire could do what they wanted, but she wouldn't give up the people who had risked everything to help them. Who had sung about mollymauks…

Wait.

"He's got no compass and he's got no gear." Swain laughed. "There's nobody knows where the mollymauk steers. Of course."

"Have they been singing to you, sweetheart?" Beck reached down to stroke her head.

Swain yanked away. "I won't give up the fence."

Beck stopped. "Did you say fence?"

"I don't have anything left to lose. You've already taken everything from me. Well, I'll take this one thing from you." She stared back defiantly. "You'll never find out who Mollymauk is."

"Mollymauk is a fence?" Beck repeated. "A criminal fence?"

"I don't care what you do to me. You may as well kill me already, Beck."

Usually when she got snippy Beck would hit her, but the blow never came. Instead Beck held out her hands, palms exposed.

"Hannah, you're very sick. It makes sense you might see things," she said. "But I'm not Beck. My name is Shara Blackwell and I'm Dalla's aunt."

"What?" Swain rubbed her eyes and the image of Beck shimmered away, revealing a woman with only a superficial resemblance to her tormentor. She had the same color hair and her eyes were blue, but she had two of them and her face held only compassion. "You...I thought you were … I'm sorry."

"It's okay love," Shara returned a watery smile. Clearly she wanted to ask Swain a thousand other things but knew it wasn't the time. "Would you like some water?"

"Please." Shara handed her a cup and Swain knocked it back in one gulp. "Where's Brent? He was hurt and then -."

"He's at his physical therapy appointment," Shara said. "But we gave him the room down the hall and he came to visit while you were asleep. He'll be thrilled to hear you're awake now."

"Can I see him?"

Shara deliberated for a moment. "I don't see why not. Just bear in mind you've been in and out of consciousness for almost a week and go slowly."

"Of course," Swain pushed off the covers and, with Shara's hands hovering nearby, made her way down the hallway and toward the sound of Cogon grunting with effort. "How is he?"

"He was in better shape than you when he got here," Shara replied. "He's made progress with physical therapy and he gets along famously with the little ones." She knocked on the door and the grunting stopped. "Brent, I've brought a visitor. May we come in?"

Cogon lay on an exercise mat, a therapist guiding him through a series of exercises with a resistance band. The second he saw Swain the pain and exertion disappeared from his face.

"You're awake!" He dropped the band and swept her into his arms, his lips cool against her own. Gods, it had been so long since they last kissed! "I was so worried."

"I was too." She pulled back to get a better look at him. "Your leg…"

"Yeah," He looked down at his leg, held carefully between them and not bearing his weight normally. "PT says I'll be ready to kick the cane any day now."

"If you keep doing your exercises," a new voice said from the doorway and they turned to see Dalla. "You'll be ready to kick the cane any day if you keep doing your exercises."

"You didn't even let the therapist get his line in," Cogon laughed. "Hey Dalla. Didn't know you were around."

"I heard Swain was awake." The fence said and extended her hand. "Dalla Blackwell. I'm not sure if you remember me."

"I do," they shook. "Thank you for all you've done for us. I don't know how I can repay you."

"All the payment I need is the knowledge I'm taking a bite out of the Empire," Dalla said. "How do you feel?"

"Her fever hasn't broken but it's at least gone down," Shara said. "Not that I need to verify any of that. Hannah has been very honest about her state of well-being."

Swain shuddered when she caught Shara's eye, and not from a fever chill. Shara was giving Dalla the same look Kallus had given her in the restaurant, and Dalla returning a wide-eyed oh kriff.

Cogon's therapist cleared his throat. "Excuse me, but Brent and I need to return to our session."

"Of course," Swain let him go, unsettled by the way he moved unevenly. "Am I allowed to stay?"

"Please do," Cogon said. "I've missed you for too long."

She stayed for the entire session to cheer him on and that night they convinced Dalla's brothers to move Cogon's bed into her room. They fell asleep holding hands across the divide.

...

The sea surrounding Blackhold couldn't be more different than the ocean she'd grown up with in Coronet City, but in Swain's opinion it was a thousand times more beautiful. The unpolluted, grey-blue water had personality, tranquil one second and turbulent the next. She could sit for hours just watching it.

Swain made her way down the beach, well out of reach of the churning water, and focused on the sound of the sea. It hadn't been long since she'd gotten the go-ahead to roam around the holdfast and the surrounding town and she was determined to make the most of it.

"May I join you?" Dalla asked from the holdfast door.

She nodded and waited for the older woman to catch up.

"How are you feeling?"

"It doesn't hurt so much to move anymore," she said. "And I can go on longer before I get tired. You can tell Gretchen to stop worrying about me."

"I can try but she'll never listen." Dalla shook her head. "For the record neither will Dr. Niamh, but they mellow out a little."

"Good to know."

They walked in silence a little longer before Dalla spoke again. "I spoke with Niamh earlier today. She says you cancelled your follow-up appointment."

"I rescheduled it," Swain explained. "Brent had physical therapy and I didn't want to miss it. We thought if the therapist said he could try walking to the practice we could go together."

"But that didn't happen."

"They say his limp is permanent. He can still dance, but he can't do flips and tricks like he used to." Swain's face fell. "He loves to dance. That was how he saved our first date, we danced in the lobby of the Imperial Complex and he told me how he learned from his brothers." And then she kissed him on the bridge overlooking the koi pond, confident that even Kallus couldn't ruin the moment.

"There are different therapies he can try to regain more function, or we could look into a nerve transplant."

"He and I already discussed the possibility. It's too big a risk." She changed her direction to the dock and sat down, the pain and emotion threatening to overwhelm her. "He's the best person I know. He shouldn't have to lose the last link he has to his family on top of everything else."

"He still has you," Dalla laid her hand on Swain's shoulder.

"I'm not much of a family." The sea kicked up and the waves splashed against her feet but she hardly felt the cold. "I never had one of my own."

Her hands went to her belly as she spoke. The incisions didn't hurt as much but they were still pink and inflamed, serving as a reminder of her inability to give Cogon the family she knew they both wanted every time she changed her shirt.

"Aye, you do. Cogon is your family. Your father is your family."

"My … father?"

"You asked for him in your sleep."

An image of the only man Swain would dream of calling by that title flashed behind her eyes.

"Hannah, my network is everywhere. Before you woke up Cogon and I made arrangements to send financial support to his family back home. If you'd like to send a message to him -."

"That's not necessary," she shook her head. "After I left he made it clear he doesn't care about me."

Dalla wouldn't be dissuaded. "Aunt Shara doesn't agree with what I do in service to the rebellion, but that doesn't mean she doesn't love me. Your father may be angry but he still loves -."

"No he doesn't, Dalla! He turned me in!" Swain buried her face in her hands.

She felt Dalla's hand twitch on her shoulder but she didn't say anything as Swain poured her heart out: "After my mom died I was all alone. I prayed for someone to be there and then I met him." She sobbed. "I thought he was the answer to prayer and he signed me over without batting an eye. Now Brent's leg will never be the same and I can't - our family - it's like the gods are laughing at us!"

Anything Dalla could say would have been drowned out by the roar of the ocean or Swain's tears. Instead she wrapped an arm around the distraught woman and turned her gaze out to the horizon.

…

Beck was late.

That was never a good sign and Swain briefly entertained the possibility she'd just said her mental prayers faster this morning. But she'd managed to get through them and that almost never happened.

"Think she got held up at StarChucks?" Cogon asked with the ghost of a smile, confirming her suspicions.

Swain leaned into his attempt to make her feel better. "Maybe they ran out of flavor shots."

He chuckled. "I can only imagine the weeping from the —."

The door opened with a hiss and Swain craned her neck to see what instrument of pain Beck had brought with her but she didn't seem to be holding anything more insidious than a datapad.

"Swain," she said in a conversational tone that instantly had Swain's hackles up. "I have some questions that are in your best interest to answer truthfully."

"Aren't they all, Beck?"

Beck didn't react. "Do you have any allergies?"

Like kriff she was going to give that up. She waited for the shock but it never came.

"We'll skip that one for now," Beck scrolled further down the datapad. "Your file says you had your appendix removed last year. Did you have any complications from the anesthesia?"

"You want to put me under?" That was new. She'd heard of beings talking off their heads while waking from anesthesia, but the Empire had other, less cumbersome drugs. If they were going to go to the trouble of anesthesia, it was for a reason.

"I know you haven't eaten or drank anything for at least eight hours," Beck continued, confirming this was for some kind of procedure. "Have you ever been pregnant?"

They were past the routine questions. The only reason Beck would need to know if she'd been pregnant was if they were going to operate on her — Swain's eyes went wide. "No."

"Excellent. That will make things much easier for the medical droid." Beck went back to the datapad with a sadistic smile.

She twisted frantically in her cuffs. "No!"

"There's no reason to worry," Beck said over her. "It's a minor procedure and hundreds of women have it every year. This way you won't have to worry about any … inconveniences."

The words washed over her as Swain tried to wrench off the table. There had to be a way out, even though she'd tried everything already. A weakness in the cuffs or —.

"You didn't want a family someday, did you?"

Cogon's face reddened as he realized the truth. "I'll kill you," he growled. "You psychotic bitch. I'll kill you!"

Beck ignored him and waved in a medical droid from the hallway. "Is there anything you'd like to tell me before we begin?"

She waited for Swain to catch her breath.

"I believe in this," she said quietly, chest heaving and face wet with tears. "I don't say any of it lightly, but …"

"Go on."

Swain stared her dead in the eye. "Burn. In. Hell."

The next thing she remembered after Beck knocked her out was waking up alone in her cell, the deep ache in her belly leaving no question as to what had happened.

...

"You're sure about this?" Swain asked as she and Cogon made their way up the cliff path.

He nodded. "I dragged myself up here with the old cane. Trust me, the view is worth it. You can almost see some of the other islands."

"It must be some view to get you up here, Mr. 'I-Hate-Heights.'"

He wasn't looking at the cliff. "It is."

"Hey!" She playfully swatted at him. "Next thing I know you'll be singing that song Captain Blackwell's crew sings to Shara."

"You don't want me to try." Cogon laughed. "Though I don't think anyone could sing it as well as them."

"They do have it down pat don't they?" She changed the subject. "Dalla was teaching me a few other sea shanties." She'd learned raucous pub songs, wistful songs of the sea, the one about the mollymauks which had been the key to determining Dalla's identity, but her favorite was the selkie song.

Between the here, between the now. The wind whipped her hair into her eyes and Swain pushed it back. It was definitely appropriate for this in-between place.

"We're almost there." Cogon read her mind and they turned the corner to the summit. "Well, what do you think?"

"I…" She took a few steps toward the edge to see better. The sea stretched out in front of them, beating against the rocky crags and the pure white formations the northerners called the salt gods. "You were right. It's amazing."

Cogon gasped. "Marry me!"

Swain spun around. Cogon wasn't on one knee. In fact he looked more surprised than she was, but in a second the shock faded away to pure joy like he'd had the greatest idea in the galaxy.

"I wasn't planning to say that today but … yeah." A little boy grin spread across his face. "Marry me, right here on this cliff."

When words finally came back to Swain all she could manage was a sputtered "What?"

"I know we haven't been together long -."

"No Brent, we really haven't."

"- But we went through hell together and no matter what they did to tear us apart, we came out stronger for it. If we can get through that, we can get through anything. So…" He fished around in his coat pocket and produced a ball with a plastic ring inside, the kind that came out of a gumball machine. "I got this to practice with, but I guess it'll work."

Swain clasped a hand to her mouth.

"Hannah, you amaze me," he said. "You always have. I love your smile, and your faith, and the look in your eyes when you've decided to do something. I love that even on the worst day of our lives, you laughed at my jokes because you knew it would make me feel better."

She desperately didn't want to stop him but she couldn't let him walk into this. "But kids -."

"I don't care. I don't care how long and complicated the road to kids will be; I'll do it a hundred times if it means I can be with you." he held up the ring. "So, will you marry me?"

There was only one answer. There had only been one answer since she'd met him and fallen in love with him. "Yes! My gods, yes!"

It felt like a dream the next time they stood on the cliff, Cogon in Bernard's best suit and Swain in a flowing dress, Sloan Murphy before them to officiate and the sea below them blue and smooth as glass.

"I still can't believe we're here," he whispered when she reached him.

She squeezed his hand. "I can."