Hello, my dear readers. Thank you for your patience. I'm so sorry for keeping you waiting. Thank you so much for your encouraging well-wishes. They gave me strength. I, unfortunately, did not manage to finish until September, because I had two anxiety attacks during two oral exams. But I was extremely lucky that the University extended my curriculum for one more year until November 2020 due to the timely intervention of our elected student union. That means that I still have time. My student union in Austria fought extremely hard for the students in my curriculum. So, thanks to the ÖH Salzburg. I now have to repeat a few classes this semester and continue to write my diploma thesis on Stefan Zweig. That unfortunately also means that I couldn't write as much as I wanted, but I hope that I will update each of my stories one by one.
Harriet's entire body was hurting from her training with the instructor, the widow had hired for her. And she still had the entire day in school before her. By now she had hoped to have made some progress in her "martial arts training", she could see her own progress in the ballet training as she was able to move more gracefully and could bend further than before, but she seemed to have no talent whatsoever for martial arts. Learning the different stances, positions was easy, but implementing them was impossible. She was far better in dodging the attacks than performing them. And she was unable to attack when her trainer wanted her to attack.
And to make matters worth. The red-haired woman was watching her every move like a hawk, pursing her lips as she radiated annoyance. Her middle-aged instructor was much more patient with her and constantly reassured her that she did fine only to be reprimanded by the Baroness who vented that she didn't progress as fast as she wanted.
Harry bowed mimicking her kind instructor and turned towards her patron wishing that she had never met her. What was the point of all this additional training?
"What goes through your head before are about to attack?" she asked her when she gestured Harry to fall in next to her.
Harry tried to catch her breath, putting her hands to her hips. She didn't know how to explain it. But she would certainly try. Her future depended on the goodwill of her patron. "I don't really know. It is confusing. When Mr. Pínghéng asks me to attack him, there is soo much rushing through my head. All the different possibilities that he has shown me and before I can decide on one too much time has passed." She wiggled her head. "And if I try to attack, I mix the different possibilities and I think you saw how that ended."
The lady huffed. "You are a defensive fighter. That won't do. Defensive fighting might be the death of you young lady. You will have to learn how to attack. Anything else why you are hesitating?"
Harry gulped wringing her hands. It would probably sound exceedingly stupid to the Widows ears. She nodded hesitantly. "I'm afraid of hurting Mr. Pínghéng when I attack."
Her patron snorted in amusement and broke out into laughter. "Hurting him? You are a long way from making that happen, Harriet."
She shook her head. Of course, she couldn't tell her what she was, but if she wasn't careful, then she might accidently reveal herself and that would be the end of her Muggle career. "I could accidently hurt him."
"No, you couldn't." the Baroness stopped and locked eyes with her. "I'm fully aware of your abilities, young lady. So, is Mr. Pínghéng. In fact, he was the one who confirmed them for me. I made him your teacher because he is far more balanced then I am. If I were your teacher, then you'd curse me to the moon and back. Your dear Professor Snape is the Easter Bunny compared to me."
Harriet's breathing hitched at the mention of her potion's professor. How did the baroness know about him? As a former alumna of her school, she couldn't be a witch. She regarded her from the side. Her fashion sense was modern but did have a barely noticeable touch of gothic. Could she perhaps family in the wizarding world? If she did, then she probably also knew about her famous brother? But then why did she bother with her? Did she want to use her somehow? She had to be extremely careful. Her suspicion grew.
"Sorry, Madam. But how do you know Professor Snape?" she enquired keeping her voice diminutive in order to avoid sounding too demanding.
"Stop squeaking like a weak little mouse." The other lady admonished her with raised eyebrow. "You are strong. So, speak up!"
Harry took a deep breath and repeated it more confidently: "How do you know Professor Snape?"
A half-smirk was creeping up the pale face. "Wouldn't you like to know. He is an old useful acquaintance of mine. That is all I will tell you for now. I believe you have exams midterm exams in a few hours. So, off you go." She dismissed her with a nod and Harry was left with even more questions. Now, she really would have to meditate shortly before the start of her exams to clear her head. Just like Mr. Pínghéng had taught her.
Shivering, Harry rubbed her front. She hadn't found any time to do something against her persistent headache that she had somehow developed on Lothal. Everything was dialled up. Blocking out people was more challenging. Her bones ached. People were everywhere and the walls in the imperial complex were too thin to get away from people. Her "office" in the lower levels of the imperial complex was just a small box with a mall workstation and a seat in it next to a dozen others. People were cramped in like Sardines. Perhaps the air circulation in the complex made her ill. It seemed that the bloody cleaning droids needed to be recalibrated. Or it was her dread of what Thrawn would come up with as her punishment for defying him.
The atmosphere of Lothal contained a similar mix of gases to Earth with minimal differences. So that couldn't be the problem. She had checked. But what she was worried about as the black and oily dust that settled on everything and probably came from the imperial factories. She assumed that it could be toxic. Pryce would probably be furious if she found out that she had taken samples and given one to the imperial laboratory on Lothal and one to the laboratory on the Chimera's med centre. Her commander probably wouldn't mind her curiosity.
Gravity on this planet was slightly higher but still under the 1.5g range. It could put her circulatory system under some pressure, but her body would be able to adapt, and she shouldn't suffer any ill effects. If the empire decided to put her on planets with higher gravity, then she would have lasting physical problems. Her first adventure on this planet probably had been to short to have any lasting effects on her body but she felt off or it was really that awful dust.
Having Governor Pryce admonishing and scolding her for not being able to reach Thrawn in his office a few minutes ago hadn't made her day any better. So, she was lucky that it hadn't gotten worse. But it was still early. Thrawn was probably too focused analysing his holograms. Lt. Commander Vanto had warned her that Thrawn could lose time when he was too focused. Or he had just not wanted to deal with Pryce and rerouted her to her. Or he was testing her again.
"We just received confirmation that Agent Kallus and Governor Price are about to return from Skystrike Academy." Harry informed the Grand Admiral entering his planet side office after entering her code at the outside panel. He stood motionless in the dark of his office surrounded by a shining circle picturesque hologram. So, art it was. She should have known. She stopped behind him just outside the circle of holograms. It all seemed a bit surreal. He almost disappeared among the art surrounding him.
"And the deserters?" he asked calmly his meditative gaze still focused onto one of the holograms. One showing two Twi'leks and a small cheeky Twi'lek girl with an infectious smile.
"Cadet Rake Gahree was shot down during their first attempt to flee. The others three, Wedge Antilles, Derek Klivian and Ria Talla, who turned out to be Rebel Sabine Wren, escaped at the second attempt. Captain Vult Skerris mentioned that they person piloting the TIE was most likely Wedge Antilles as two manoeuvres were used that this cadet preferred."
"Hm." He drew it out. "Has Agent Kallus been able to identify how they managed to infiltrate the academy?" he asked her still focused on the hologram.
"Yes. He did. Sabine Wren used a counterfeit data card which allowed her access to the Academy. There's a recording of her arriving with a fresh batch of trainees. As she came with the new ones, she must have been taken somebody else's place. He is still trying to figure out which cadet's missing or if they are missing at all" She used air quotes at the word missing.
"Very good." Thrawn stated finally turning around measuring her. Very Good? Governor Price had been furious when she had relayed the information about the escapees to her instead of the Grand Admiral. Apparently, she did pass. No, turfs of fur covering her uniform this time. Or did he refer to the information that she had relayed to him.
"Speaking of piloting. When you were in the academy, why did compromise your own scores in the starfighter track?" Thrawn clasped his hands behind his back.
Harry rolled her eyes when he turned her back on her as he leisurely went back behind his desk. She pursed her lips before she answered.
"Simply because I didn't want to end as a TIE fighter pilot, Sir. As you probably know, I value my own life a bit too much for throwing it away flying those death traps. I knew that even if I somehow managed to stay in the command track, that I would most likely end as a technician. Much safer."
"Only 10 percent of the of TIE pilots successfully navigate the intense training and testing of the Imperial Navy." The Chiss lectured her evenly.
"Really? I sincerely doubt the validity of these numbers, Sir." Harry interrupted snidely."10 percent of the TIE pilots in training could never fulfil the high demand of fighter pilots the empire needs. Like I said, the empire is running through their pilots like wildfire. But they are excellent for target practice." She nodded eagerly and winced. Nodding wasn't good for her head right now.
Thrawn's eyebrow rose. Harry gulped. Perhaps she had been a bit too forward again. And she had promised that she would tone her insubordination down a bit. But her head was pounding. So, her patience ran thin. "Are you speaking about your time in the Academy or about the transition of your planet into the empire?"
Why don't you figure it out! Harry rose her eyebrow challenging. "The Academy was certainly …informative." She answered to keep it as vague as possible evading his question but had to fight her grin remembering how easy the first wave of TIES she had ever seen had been taken out.
"Your instructor noted that you could have been one of the better TIE fighter pilots to come out of your Academy, had you not displayed irrational behaviour and ignored direct commands during the simulations."
"When and why did this conversation become about me, Sir?" she enquired with slight annoyance in her voice as she stepped closer to his desk. "We were talking about the deserters."
"You do not begrudge them for deserting?" Thrawn stated calmly sitting down while holding her gaze intensely.
"Hell no! Of course not." she shook her head and sheepishly bit her lips afterwards. Ups. That had slipped out. "For all I know they are now flying much saver and let's face it, far better fighters than the empire has to offer."
His face remained unreadable but calm.
"They easily outmanoeuvred LS-607, supposedly the best pilot Lothal had to offer." Harry answered blocking her urge to rub her front.
"So, you would have done the same, had the situation presented itself?" Thrawn asked her not breaking his intense gaze and Harry didn't back down and stared back. Two could play this staring contest but the seat was very inviting.
She stepped closer to the chair opposite of him and still waited for him to allow her to sit. She really needed to sit. "I believe you already know the answer to that, Sir. I'm not going to confirm or deny your question in here."
"You certainly found amusement in shooting down your wingmen during the simulations." He stated clasping his hands.
"They were annoying. Those were only simulations." She shrugged. "So, no harm done. Before my second real dog fight practice, I purposely grounded my TIE before I could make it out of the hanger. Considering that one of my fellow cadets actually died during that round, it was probably the right thing to do." She explained forcefully. A new wave of pressure rushing through her head.
He narrowed his eyes. "How did you know that one of your cadets would die?"
Her blood froze. Well, she hadn't really known, but upon reflection on that event she had attributed it to her instinct back then. Perhaps she had known. It had been a familiar sensation. She shook her head and took a deep breath. "Well, I didn't." He remained still; his eyebrow rose trapping her in his gaze. He was unconvinced of her statement.
"I didn't know" she repeated gripping her data reader tighter. "I didn't know exactly that somebody would die, but I had a bad feeling about the practice, insomnia during the night didn't help and…I was really terrified to fly out of that hanger that day. The instructor had told us that all the weapons would be offline and disabled but considering how lax things were handled in the academy, I didn't trust his words. I guess my subconscious was just processing all that I knew and warned me not to follow his orders."
"Hm, that could be one explanation. There might be other ones." Thrawn mused.
She rolled her eyes before she could stop herself finally braking eye contact. Thrawn had won this battle.
"Then why did you purposely ground your TIE that day? You did fly sporadically on other days. At least until you reached the minimal points to pass this course." Thrawn enquired, a slight frown creasing his lips.
"As I said. I really, I didn't want to fly out of that hangar that day. I saw an opportunity and took it." she shrugged egging closer to the seat hoping that he would get the hint. He ignored it and Harry mentally groaned.
"Reprogramming engine control within a few short minutes is a bit more than just an opportunity." He remarked.
"I had a whole night of insomnia to mentally go through all scenarios. So, when I was in the cockpit, I knew exactly what to do." She told him feeling a bit of pride swelling. After all they hadn't figured out how she had grounded that TIE and had just assumed that it had been a system failure at first.
"The instructor was exceedingly annoying, and my fellow cadets resembled …" She stopped before she could make a comparison that would make her sorry. Her commander's stern gaze halting her. She had to be careful now. She shook her head managing not to flinch. "I'm not finishing that sentence, Sir."
"Pity. I would have liked to hear that ending." He stated with a hint of amusement. Or he was mocking her. She didn't know. He was hard to read.
"In other words, my instructor noted that the traditional conditioning to be fanatically loyal to the Empire and willing to sacrifice my life and the lives of my fellow wingmen to complete our assigned missions didn't work on me. I have a problem with living beings being considered expendable. Even worse when they are conditioned to see themselves as expendable."
"I am aware."
"Well, the instructors can't complain about my refusal to listen. After all I did try to teach my colleagues a valuable lesson." Harry shrugged her shoulders glancing at the seat next to her. Thrawn had still not gestured her to sit. She felt a bit like a school kid standing in front of the headmaster's desk waiting for the inevitable.
"What lesson would that be?" Thrawn enquired coolly.
"To not trust anybody. Especially, not those who send them out in swarm of TIES entirely unprotected." So, I basically just told him that I don't trust him or his officers. Well, done Harry.
"TIE fighters should be able to trust their commander's orders." Thrawn contradicted her.
"Well, then the empire should value their lives and built better star fighters." Harry heatedly shot back remembering how eager her fellow cadets had been to serve as TIE pilots. "Whoever designed the TIE fighter should be kicked to the curb. It is utter crap. It's no wonder that the rebels have the better pilots." Ok, I should shut up now. Better not give him any ideas. Another wave of pain was spreading through her head and she grit her teeth.
"We do have more disciplined pilots." Thrawn
"If by discipline you mean that they have no imagination whatsoever in their tactics, then yes they are disciplined." Harry said with a hint of sarcasm. "They are unable to adapt and perform to unforeseeable situations that they weren't trained in. The rebel pilots are more experienced who can take on more numerous enemies and execute more mission types." She took a deep steadying breath.
"Please, do continue with your analysis." Thrawn encouraged her unfazed. "About the TIES in particular."
"Well, the TIE fighter was designed rather recklessly for two things in mind- speed and a low cost. This of course meant stripping out essential items that would be essential for any other starfighter". She counted: "shields, missiles, life support, a hyperdrive, and landing gear. I mean it sure is fast- a TIE fighter can easily overtake an A-wing or X-Wing at full throttle. TIEs were meant to be manoeuvrable, but I believe only the rumoured Jedi with their reflexes could really take advantage of such speed. TIEs lack of a shield means one single shot can take it out. So, as you already know the survivability among TIE pilots is therefore naturally extremely low which means that very few TIE pilots can become Aces and get decent at piloting. Like I said, they are good target practice.
"That was my conclusion as well." Thrawn nodded. "You are correct. TIE fighters are viewed as expendable by many commanders. A dangerous oversight. Their lack of landing gear and hyperdrives also means they are dependent on capital ship carriers for transportation. If a battle turns sour for the Empire, the valuable capital ship, might jump out of system without collecting its TIE fighter compliment first, which means that the TIE fighters would be left to either die or be captured. The latter being the less likely." He regarded her calmly. His eyes shining like red orbs in contrast to the darkness of the room behind him.
"My survey among the pilots in my fleet, as unfruitful as it was, showed that they bemoaned the TIE's lack of proton missiles even if it hinders their dogfighting ability. Laser canons aren't very effective for bombing or attacking capital ships. It also restricts TIEs to a strictly superiority starfighter, unlike the multipurpose X-wings, some rebel cells have acquired." Thrawn mentioned almost as if continuing Harry's thoughts. He did a survey. Not surprised that it was 'unfruitful'. The pilots are commander pleasers.
"TIEs also suffer from their wings." She cut in. "Those big hexagons present quite the easy target. One shot to them and the fragile fighter is toast. And what's even worse." She paused wishing to be out of here to get something for her annoying headache. "For the TIE pilot, those large panels block their view. They can't even see out their sides and as you've told me countless times you can't divide attention. The pilots have to look out of the viewport and have to keep the target computer in sight otherwise they miss other's crushing into them. So, their eyes just jump back and forth between the viewport and the targeting computer. So, yes. TIE fighters are clearly the worst designed ship in the entire galaxy. We can only hope that there aren't any clever predators coming from a neighbouring galaxy or the empire would lose."
Thrawn straightened at that, furrowing his eyebrows. His eyes glittering darkly. Wait. The predator he talked about a few weeks ago. They are from the adjoining galaxy?! Could that be? Which one? There was no mistaken it. This time his facial expression was abundantly clear. Should she ask him about her suspicion? She decided against it and continued in hopes of cutting this whole conversation short:
"TIE fighters are intended to be deployed in swarms, entire wings of cheaply produced fighters deployed either from planetary bases or large mobile platforms. As TIE fighter doctrine does not consider surviveability to be particularly useful, to the point where the pilots have to bring their own survival gear because they have poor ejection mechanisms."
"The Rebel fighters are built around multiple mission types. The X-Wing, which was also used by supporters of Nightswan can execute bombing missions as well as dog-fighting an A-Wing is a scout/fighter, and the Y-Wing is a bomber/support fighter…They therefore do put a premium on suviveability an force multiplication." He continued evenly.
"And unlike the Empire, the Rebel cells have fewer resources, and must focus on quality over quantity. Things like shields, hyperdrives, and long-range weapons allow the rebel to take on more enemies and survive at a much higher rate than their imperial rivals. As I already noted this leads to the rebels having better defended, more experience pilots who can take on more numerous enemies and execute more mission types…and they can do this without capital ship support. The Phoenix Squadron for example was able to win by having a more experienced pilot who is more capable to absorb damage and execute their missions. If the Empire invested in some higher quality fighters, which could even be deployed through hyperspace, then that would give the Rebels a run for their money."
"Thank you for your detailed analysis." Thrawn said the corner of his lips twitching. "You just helped me gather ideas for a potential new star fighter. Certainly, more concepts than our TIE pilots provided."
"Thank you, Sir." She conceded. "As you are in such an agreeable mood. May I be so bold and ask if you've come to a conclusion about my punishment that you were alluding to a few days ago."
"You may." He replied with smoothly modulated voice. "For now, I waived your shore leaves for the next five years. The rest will be revealed in due time."
Her eyes widened. She hadn't known that she did have shore leaves. But then she was an imperial junior officer. So, she might have had some allowance for shore leaves. But she lost them before she knew about them. Five more years without seeing her family. Five more years without being able to hold them close to her. So much could happen in these years. What if she would never see them again!? Her heart broke. She felt like air had been knocked out from her. Tears were stinging her eyes, but she wouldn't give him the satisfaction of seeing her cry. And considering that there was a "rest" that he obviously didn't feel the need to divulge, more bad things were to come. She couldn't let her emotions get the better of her now. She gulped and let slowly let out air that she had been holding. I'm the master of my emotions. She focused on letting them go into the imagined steady stream that was flowing through her. I need to let them go until there is only peace. She gulped, her head pounding. Another steading breath to wash away her heated emotions. She could almost hear her words that she had been thought so many years ago. It came back to her again. She could do this. It worked. After another heartbeat she locked her gaze with Thrawn again, who studied her intently.
"Understood." She answered him more composed than she felt.
Draco choked on his much-needed morning coffee when he got a glimpse of the title page of the Quibbler Remus had just sent him. He quickly scanned the page and his heart plumbed. It was dealing with Harry's issue as well, but entirely differently. Scorpius had been right. There was a message. It was so much more like the Harry he knew. And reading through her message, he felt the blood drain from his body. Scorpius had truly detected parts of her message the day before.
"Draco. What is it?" his mother asked him worry creeping into her voice sipping from her tea pot.
"Scorpius." Draco hoarsely addressed his son who followed the short exchange with interest despite his fatigue.
"You are going to believe the Quibbler more than the Daily Prophet now?" Lucius growled as he observed his son quickly scanning the pages. A little trick he knew his son had learned from the very person the issue was dedicated to.
"So far the Quibbler is accurate on her life and accomplishments" Draco murmured quickly turning the pages until he suddenly froze. "No!" he gasped reading a titbit of information he had not known before. Or rather he had known another version of this information. All fight was leaving his body. He had severely wronged her, probably shattered her heart into pieces. And only because he had believed the Daily Prophet. Why had he believed that rag paper anyway? He couldn't remember. Why hadn't he confronted her about it after reading it. He couldn't remember.
"She didn't abort it." he murmured.
"Draco, you can't talk about such things in front of your son!" Narcissa told him sternly.
He desperately wanted to believe the Quibbler, knowing that Luna had been one of her rare few magical friends. For some reason the two had immediately bonded in Hogwarts. When others had declared the blonde a crazy bint, Harriet had blown up on them and defended her by saying that Lovegood wasn't crazy. She just had been able to see things clearer than some. Even though her remarks had often seemed strange, the other did have the uncanny ability to cut right through things. Or perhaps they had bonded over being outcasts?
"Your mother is right. And you just believe it, because it is in the Quibbler?" Lucius shook his head. "Both newspapers are more concerned about selling issues than the truth."
"Perhaps." Draco mused. "The Muggles did have fact-checking sites at least which fact checked their newspaper's reported stories." Lucius raised an eyebrow quizzingly. He had no idea what his son was talking about. Something that happened more often these days.
"But I know Harry well enough to know that the information given by the Daily Prophet is inaccurate and when it concerns her life, the Quibbler is more reliable. So, when they say that she lost the Baby and was in a coma for almost two weeks, then I believe them."
"Draco!" Narcissa hissed at him nodding towards Scorpius who played with his breakfast. He wasn't feeling well today. Normally he would have eaten his breakfast in just a few seconds.
"Merlin, what the hell happened that she ended up in a coma?!" Draco sighed brushing his hand through his hair.
Narcissa's sighed. He didn't listen to her. He never had when it came to his fiery friend. She should have read the signs that Harriet Potter had been more than just a very good friend of her son. She had liked the vivacious girl that her son had befriended, but more than friendship had never even entered her mind for the two of them. A half-blood and a Malfoy was out of the question. But apparently her son had had different ideas.
"And it is consistent with her behaviour at that time. She desperately tried to reach me afterwards, but I was so blinded by anger that I blocked each attempt. And I was married to Astoria by then. With this
information, it makes sense." Draco took a deep breath to steady himself. Even if he would be able to apologize to her one day, he knew that she wouldn't be able to forgive him. Her memory never forgot and the pain he must have caused her was probably incurable. She was forever lost to him. And her ordeal at the moment was bound to leave another permanent mark on her. He had seen her at her worst during the second wizarding war where she had almost lost herself once or twice towards the darker side to decimate the Death Eater's ranks, but she had managed to come back from that. But what if she was now pushed too far into darkness. Who could pull her out from that?
"So, I was right." Scorpius grinned tiredly holding his head with his hand and the elbow on the table. Draco frowned at his son. Was he glowing with sweat?
"Am I right?" Scorpius asked with raised eyebrows. Draco turned back towards the Quibbler and leaved through the pages until he found the one detailing and analysing her message. "Let's find out." He said putting his son onto his lap who cuddled closer into his father's arms. The other two Malfoys also stood up and edged closer to them.
"Scorpius was right." Narcissa murmured hoarsely brushing over her grandson's fine unruly hair before she stopped.
"Told you so." He grinned happily.
"You are hot." She murmured in worry.
"You are hot too, nana." He answered tiredly grinning sheepishly causing his grandfather to snort. "Grandpa said so."
Draco's hand jumped to his son's front in worry and his heart constricted? Had the doctors been wrong? Was his son going to be next after his mother had died? He quickly stood up hoisting his son up and rushing to the nearest fireplace. He couldn't lose his son now. His parents followed swiftly behind him.
Within a few seconds he stepped out of the Floo entrance of St. Mungos only to be caught in what he could describe as hectic chaos. The air was heavy with smoke. Mediwitches and Healers, aided by aurors were directing everyone towards the exits. Scorpius winced and snuggled closer to his throat. "Papá, please get me out of here!" he murmured weakly. "So much death!" He shuddered and Draco was ordered to leave the building immediately. When he tried to protest the Auror ordered him that there was a tent outside which might be able to look at his son. For now, everybody had to leave the building!
Looking forward to your comments on the story.. Don't hold back. I got loads of advice for this story in my creative writing class and I will try to implement this in future chapters.