Chapter Text
Conder made damn well sure he was at the docking bay when the Halo came back into port. He’d been on call through the whole mission, but hadn’t heard anything so … hopefully all went well? If the code cylinders hadn’t worked, then surely they would have gotten in touch. Maybe that meant everything went off without too much of a hitch.
But obviously something had gone wrong because besides the normal peace officer presence to take away the prisoner - at least that meant that they had a prisoner to take away - there were not just one, but three med squads. Two of them had stretchers and trauma equipment. Conder closed his eyes and took a steadying breath.
Stars, you know, they hadn’t really been dating that long. Had they? A few months maybe? It seemed like a lot longer … in some ways, it seemed like they’d always been together. He’d never been this scared for someone he hadn’t known for more than a few months before. And he wasn’t even sure if one of these stretchers was for Sinjir yet.
Conder worked himself up and went over to one of the trauma team members. They seemed calm. Collected. He guessed you had to be if that was your chosen profession.
“Hey,” he asked. “Any idea who these are for?”
A medic looked at him warily. “You family to the crew?”
“I’m on the crew,” Conder corrected. “I’m their slicer.” Of course. Privacy and all that. They might not even be able to tell him who was hurt. Who’s to say he wasn’t an imposter? Or a spy?? But he wouldn’t be able to get into this hanger without clearance, surely they knew that …
The medic nodded. “Two humans. A male and a female. Plus a bunch of minors who need checks. That’s all we got.”
Conder nodded back in thanks. That absolutely did not narrow it down at all. The only person the medic ruled out was Jas. Shit. And a bunch of minors? Guess they picked up some of the students. That was good at least. Right?
Wedge Antilles appeared in the doorway of the hanger bay and ambled over toward Conder and the medic crews. “What in the galaxy is all of this? Conder, are they ok?”
Conder shrugged helplessly. “I don’t know. All he knows is that it’s not Jas.”
“Never gave you a name,” the medic furrowed his brow. “Even we don’t have names.”
“Jas is Zabrak.” Conder answered.
“Oh.”
Wedge scrunched up his face a bit in worry, then let it go with a sigh. “We’ll find out soon enough. They just broke atmosphere.”
Conder turned to look skyward. “At least they got the prisoner?”
Wedge nodded. “Score one more for the good guys.”
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
The stolen lambda shuttle landed at first with no more fanfare than usual. Conder spotted Norra and Temmin in the cockpit viewports as the ship came in and maneuvered to land facing the welcoming crew. He saw Wedge’s face relax in relief. As much as Conder hadn’t wanted the kid to be hurt, that left only two other human males onboard.
Norra disappeared from the cockpit as Temmin made the final checks. As captain, she’d be the first to disembark.
Everything was slow motion for Conder at this point. The boarding ramp lowered with the familiar hiss of gasses. Norra appeared, her lips were drawn out and her forehead was furrowed in worry. She ushered down a small gaggle of teenagers, all in various states of Imperial uniforms and all nursing limbs here and there. She got them into custody of one of the med crews, then called to the rest. “Come on, guys! Let us get the prisoner and the rest of the crew off to make room for the trauma teams! Stat!”
Conder’s heart sank as Jom hurried down the ramp next with someone in an ISB uniform slung over his shoulder.
Stars, No. Only one other human male left.
Norra waved the teams in and urgently gave directions. “The less stable one is in the hold right here. The other’s in a makeshift bunk room just past her.”
Conder and Wedge were both on Norra with questions. She threw up her hands asking for some room. “Guys, please. I know, believe me.” She gave Conder a sympathetic look. “Sinjir’s hurt pretty badly, but Jas thinks he’ll be ok. Tressa’s wife … we’re not so sure about. But try to be optimistic around her, ok?”
Conder’s heart raced. He couldn’t see much except hurried activity beyond the boarding ramp. He knew he shouldn’t rush inside. The lambda wasn’t a tiny ship, but it also didn’t have as much room as one might like. Especially not with so many bodies trying to perform their jobs at once.
He turned around toward Jom and the peace keepers. They were strapping and cuffing the unconscious prisoner into a restraining hoverchair for transport. He took her in. Some part of him - a very unhappy part of him - wanted to memorize this woman. Short, stocky, obviously muscular and powerfully built. Pale. Dark hair which even now in her captivity remained mostly in a tight Imperial regulation bun.
He almost jumped a bit when she stirred. Jom noticed. “I took her off of the sedatives just before deboarding,” he explained. “Gotta give her her rights and shit as she’s taken into custody. Not that she deserves them.”
“Everyone deserves their rights, soldier,” a peace keeper corrected. “We’re not the Empire.”
“Sure, sure.” Jom scoffed, crossing his arms. They might not be the Empire, but that didn’t mean he believed everyone deserved decent treatment.
Activity on the boarding ramp. One of the trauma teams was coming out. They had a smaller woman on their stretcher wrapped up in restraints and hooked up to tubes and medical sensors. Tressa followed close behind, hugging herself as she watched them whisk the woman away into a transport and toward the hospital.
Conder moved over and put a hand on her shoulder. She thanked him, but shrugged it off. She still wore her black, wide thighed Imperial pants, knee high boots, and white tank top. Her white ISB jacket was slung unceremoniously over her shoulders. She hadn’t even changed into regular clothing for their long flight back. He imagined she’d spent the whole flight at Lyn’s side. He didn’t blame her. He’d have done the same.
Tressa moved across the landing bay and stopped in front of the peace keepers. They eyed her warily in her uniform, but she didn’t pay them any attention. Instead she just squatted down in front of Uddra and stared at the woman. Uddra stared back. They were like that for a few very long moments.
Tressa finally stood. “I just want her to know that I was part of this. From the beginning. Before I knew about Lyn, I was part of this. I want her to see how much she’s failed.”
The other woman’s small eyes narrowed, but she didn’t deign to speak back.
Conder watched the two size each other up. “She’s shorter than I imagined after everything Sinjir told me.” Something in him wanted her to know that Sinjir was cared for. That he had friends and confidants. That he was loved.
That he was loved. Holy shit. Wow. Umm. Not now, Conder. Now is definitely not the time for such reflective self-realizations. Not while staring your boyfriend’s torture-teacher in the face.
“Don’t let her stature fool you,” Tressa said, both to him and the peace keepers. “She’s dangerous. Both physically and mentally. She taught us everything we know about how to break a body and a mind. And yet …” She trailed off dramatically. “For all of her training and poetry about Loyalty , three of her best students just captured her and turned her over to her enemies. I wonder what that says about her as a mentor.”
Uddra’s face contorted into a smirk. “You’ve never forgotten your suspicions, girl.” She held no worry or dread in her voice over what was to become of her. Just a tone of confidence. “That means I did my job well.”
The head peace keeper nodded to the others. “I think she’s coherent enough. Thank you, team, for bringing her in to face justice.”
Conder watched the peace keepers read Uddra her rights and begin to take her away to the New Republic prison. Part of him agreed with Jom. Someone who caused so much suffering … did she deserve all of this formality? He shook his head. We aren’t the Empire.
More commotion by the ship’s ramp. The next team was deboarding. Conder’s heart sunk even further into his stomach. Sinjir did not look good. His whole face was one giant bruise, his neck was seared a nasty shade of bright red, and dried blood clung to various body parts. He was wrapped in the same restraints and hooked up to the same amount of tubes and sensors as the other woman had been. He tried to rush to the side of the stretcher, but the medics kept him at a distance.
Jas deboarded just behind them and grabbed Conder’s shoulder. “It’ll be ok,” she told him. His head fell heavily onto her shoulder and she hugged him for a bit, albeit awkwardly. He wondered idly if the bounty hunter was used to giving hugs.
“They’ll both be in surgery for at least a few hours.” Jas patted his back and escaped the embrace enough to move around. She looked out toward Tressa who was just staring toward the door through which Lyn, Sinjir, and Uddra had all vanished. “Plenty of broken smaller bones, but nothing permanent. Actually, a lot like their little pre-mission briefing. Well, except for the lightsaber burns…”
“The WHAT?!” Conder had also looked toward the exit, but whirled back toward Jas. She just gave him a wave dismissing the concerns.
“I’ll tell you about it later. Long story short, he’ll be ok.”
Norra had tried to comfort Tressa, but the woman had shrugged her off as well.
“Come on,” Tressa finally spoke, loudly enough for the hanger to hear her. “Someone get me to that hospital. I’d rather wait where a nurse can reach me right away.”
“Change first,” Norra told her. “Get out of that uniform, grab a ration bar, and then I’ll get you there as fast as any transport can take you.”
“I’m coming too,” Conder said.
“We’re all going.” Jas told him.
“Not all of us,” Jom said. “Norra, I’ll hold the fort here in case any other official types show up with... I don’t know, paperwork or whatever it is you always do after these things. And you know, debrief with the kids. ‘Sides, I know you want to go with them.”
Norra nodded. “Thanks, Jom. I appreciate that.”
The ride to the hospital was silent. The wait at the hospital was even worse.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
The nurses eventually brought good enough news for the crew to at least be able to stomach some dinner in the hospital’s refectory. Sinjir was only in surgery for a few hours, and was scheduled to spend the night submerged in a bacta tank. He’d heal up just fine, maybe keeping a few scars on his neck and left foot as souvenirs. The surgeons recommended physical therapy for the hand Uddra broke, but if he was diligent in his exercises, his grip should return soon enough.
Conder smirked. Sin was going to complain the whole time.
Lyn spent longer in surgery, but was also expected to make it through. She would need a wheelchair or maybe a cane for awhile, but they said with physical therapy, she’d be ok. For now, Lyn was in intensive care, though hopefully she’d graduate to a bacta tank too by the end of the night or the next day. The surgeons tried to find a reason as to why she hadn’t been able to speak yet, but found none. Tressa knew though. One of the nurses promised to get her the names of some good psychologists.
They poked at their meals. Norra had insisted. “None of us will be doing anyone any good without keeping ourselves fed and moving.” Conder had just gone with it. She really was becoming everyone’s mom. Maybe sometimes that was ok.
“Tressa, do you have a place to stay?” Norra asked. “Unless Sinjir gave you a key?”
“I have one,” Conder said. “A key, that is. If you’d like. I’m sure he wouldn’t mind.”
Tressa shook her head. “I’m spending the night here. Even if I just doze in the waiting room, I don’t care. I want to be here when she’s allowed to have visitors.”
“That won’t be at least until morning,” Conder said. “They said she’s going to the bacta tanks after. They don’t let visitors there either … or I wouldn’t be sitting with all of you.”
The woman shook her head. “I know. I still don’t care. Trust me, I had plenty more stretches of sleepless nights when on duty. I’ll be ok.”
No one argued.
*
Once allowed to visit, Conder brought flowers. He knew Sinjir would make fun of him for it, but he didn’t care. That’s what you do for people in the hospital, right?
Jas had laughed. “You’re too damned adorable for him.” Still, she’d given him the first visit.
⤙╞⭒☽⭒❂⭒☾⭒╡⤚
Nearly a week had passed since the tumultuous mission that resulted in Sid Uddra's capture, a week in which Sinjir had been confined to the sterile white of a hospital room, his body mending from wounds both physical and psychological. Finally discharged, he wanted nothing more than to crawl into a bottle and sleep for the next thousand weeks.
Conder had other ideas. In fact, Conder had brought a “friend” to the hospital room that had turned out to be a psychologist. Sinjir HAD asked instead for Alderaanian Blue. Or Nabooan ale. Even kowakian rum. But noooo, Conder brought a mind doctor instead. Ugh.
And now here he was, walking through the bustling corridors of the New Republic's corrections facility, his cane click-clacking along with his footsteps, the hum of activity around him fading into a background blur. Conder had offered to come with him, but Sinjir had abjectly refused. If he was going to be forced to face this monster, he wasn’t going to do so with any witnesses. And besides, this was no place for a man as good as Conder Kyl.
With each step closer to Uddra's cell, memories flashed like blaster fire in the dark recesses of his mind. But he was ready. He needed to look her in the eye, to see the woman who had taught him so much and cost him so much more. He needed to see the architect of his former life, not as the looming figure of fear she had been, but as the prisoner she now was.
The guards knew he was coming and let him in without too much to-do. A few checkpoints and ID scans later, and here he was. The former Loyalty Officer facing the woman who had been both his mentor and tormentor.
She sat, shackled yet unyielding, on the other side of a transparent energy barrier designed to contain the most dangerous prisoners. The ambient hum of the barrier was the only sound as Sinjir initiated the conversation, his voice betraying absolutely nothing of his current murderous thoughts toward her.
"Comfortable?" Sinjir asked, the sardonic inflection typical to how he’d usually start an interrogation.
Uddra's lips twisted into a semblance of a smile behind the barrier. She sat in a metal chair, magnetic cuffs on her wrists and ankles binding her in place. “The galaxy is not a nursery, boy. Comfort is only sought by the weak."
“Ah, well, my mistake.” He shrugged, feigning an ambivalence they both knew didn’t exist. “I could hit a few of your pressure points if it helped set a better ambiance?”
She just watched him with cold, calculating dark eyes, her lips curling up into a sour sneer. “You still hate me, don’t you?” It was a rhetorical question. “In fact, you still despise and distrust most. I watched you this whole time, you can’t hide it. I saw.” She nodded a little at him, her eyes squinting a bit in emphasis. “That’s good. Look how far it’s gotten you. Even in a new setting, you’ve clung to everything I ever taught you.” She clucked her tongue a few times. “Such resolve. No wonder you were one of my top students.”
Sinjir let out a half-snort, half-chuckle. "What resolve ? The resolve to teach young, impressionable officers how to... what? Hate? Torture? Be suspicious? Sure, you taught me a lot. And yet here we are."
She tilted her head, a gesture of condescension he knew all too well. "I gave you tools. Tools to survive in a galaxy that is far more cruel and unforgiving than the one this fledgling 'government' wants to believe exists."
"And look where it got you," he countered, letting a sliver of his resentment show.
Uddra remained unmoved. "You think imprisonment is the end? My influence extends beyond these walls. You, of all people, should know that."
"I know," Sinjir admitted, “You may have forged me into a weapon, but I'm not yours to wield anymore."
There was a pause, a momentary lapse in the rhythm of their exchange. Then Uddra leaned forward, her eyes narrowing. "You think you're free from me, but you're not. And you never will be. The Empire is an idea, and ideas cannot be imprisoned. You and all of my Vipers -- you carry it with you. In every skeptical glance, every suspicion, every moment you choose power over weakness." Uddra stated, her voice steely. "You are still fighting the battles I taught you to fight, just under a different banner."
The air between them crackled with the unsaid and the personal wounds that had never quite healed.
The guard knocked on the hatchway behind him. Kark . Well. He hadn’t been able to bribe anyone this time around, and even if he had … would he want to kill her as quickly as he had that damned Traducier? It’s not like anyone or anything could hurt her. No physical or mental torture could break the woman, Darth Vader himself had seen to that long ago. It might be best to just kill her and get it over with. That was going to be her fate anyway, right?
But alas, he’d have to go through the guard first. And the energy barrier between him and the prisoner. And probably a bunch of other guards who wouldn’t mind sticking it to the ex-Imperial. And then he’d be in prison too and unable to help his friends …
… His friends. That’s what was different about him. He had friends. As awful and disgusting as it was to feel things toward people.
"I'll see you at your trial," Sinjir finally said as much to himself as to her.
“You can’t escape me,” she replied, that same damned confidence in her tone that she’d always had. “Even after my execution -- you’ll still live by the principals I molded you with.”
Sinjir scrunched up his features, "I don't plan to escape you," Sinjir replied sharply. "I plan to obliterate you. And everything you stand for.”
Uddra smirked, arrogance flickering across her features. "We shall see, Rath Velus. We shall see."
He turned away, his steps measured as he left the cell block. He carried the burden of his past with him, a past marked by Uddra's ruthless teachings, but he also carried an odd sense of new beginnings. She was right of course. He’d always be built on the foundation that she molded. But what he built on that foundation going forward? Well … maybe it didn’t have to be so awful anymore.
Maybe.
~~~ Epilogue ~~~
Clouds gathered and the scent of coming rain was in the air. Chandrila evenings this time a year in Hanna City were pleasant as the season cooled into a crisp, mild autumn. Norra was hosting a few members of her crew for dinner - an occasional affair that happened usually in longer stretches between missions when they all had some actual R&R time and not just a few days to collapse into their beds, recharge somewhat, and get back out on the job.
As per usual, dinner and drinks had devolved into a hearty sabaac game. As not per usual, Sinjir was behind. Norra was gleeful that she’d invited the new guests … anything to knock her ex-imperial down a few pegs in cards.
“Well, that’s just criminal,” Sinjir objected as he folded his hand in a huff and reached -again- for his flask. Tressa broke her stoic sabaac face and let out a laugh as she collected his credit chips.
“Only thing criminal about this game is how bad you’ve become at hiding your tells. Seriously, hull stripper , you’ve lost your touch since our Academy days.” Her eyes gleamed. The nickname had stuck, much to almost everyone’s amusement. Almost everyone’s.
Sinjir just rolled his eyes and anted up for the next hand.
Lyn grinned and nodded. She sat next to Tressa, not playing but still visibly enjoying herself. She’d come a long way in just a few weeks with both her medical treatments and therapy, though she still wasn’t able to speak. No one minded or rushed her. In fact, everyone on the crew tried to help out as much as possible.
Sinjir glared at Lyn. “What? You agree with her? Please. I’ll have you know I usually clean house at these games…”
Lyn shook her head still grinning, then peaked at Tressa’s new hand as Norra dealt out another round.
Jas looked at her new hand then laid it flat down on the table, hiding it from any wandering eyeballs. “Don’t brag too much, Sin. Remember, I’m still in tonight too.”
“Barely,” Norra countered. She’d decided against buying back in after losing the last of her own chips at least half an hour ago. If it was just one ex-Loyalty Officer at the table she might have a chance. But against two? No sabaac pot was worth that. Not even with the house limits and friendly wager amounts.
Temmin never got the hint though. In every game that Norra hosted for her crew, buy-ins were 10 credits each and losses were capped at 50. And in every game to date, Temmin had lost 50 credits. He anted up as well. Norra shook her head and dealt him in.
Jom had already reached his max losses and stood behind the main table in Norra’s kitchen. Drink in one hand and arms crossed, he leaned on a counter unsure of who he’d prefer to watch lose more.
“I know I’m handsome, Jomby,” Sinjir told him as he leaned back rearranging his own hand. “But you don’t have to keep staring. Like I told you … I’m spoken for.” Sinjir straightened back up a little for emphasis, reminding Norra of her childhood cat who would fluff itself up and keep haughty watch over his domain.
“Yeah, when IS your sidepiece going to start coming to these, anyway?” Jom asked.
“Maybe it’d be enough to throw Sin off of his game at least,” Jas said.
“Maybe I could actually win against someone,” Temmin pouted. Not that anyone pitied him too much.
Sinjir shook his head. “I’m keeping my worlds separate, thank you. And besides … between us, he has an absolutely terrible Sabaac face.”
Jas smirked. “Now he has to come.” She shared a look with Norra. “He’d absolutely throw Sin off his balance.”
The ex-imperial just shook his head and ran his thumb across his cards so that they made a zipping noise. “If everyone’s anted for this round…?”
“Don’t even bother, Sinjir,” Tressa laughed as she threw down her cards face up. “Pure Sabaac!”
Jas leaned back with a long sigh. “Aaaannd that’s my 50 creds.” She motioned over to Jom at the kitchen counter. “Bring me something to drown myself with?”
Jom chuckled as Jas’ glass was passed over a few heads for him to fill back up. “Coming right up.”
Temmin just pouted further and folded.
“Not so fast!” Sinjir wagged a finger at his compatriot admonishingly. “Norra, dear, if you don’t mind?”
Tressa chuckled. “Oh come on, the only thing that could beat that is an idiot’s array. You telling me you’re playing an Idiot?”
Sinjir didn’t answer. He just raised an eyebrow in anticipation at the dealer. Rain had begun to fall outside. Slowly at first, but it was finally rising to an audible cascade and ran in rivulets down the living room window. Norra eyed Sinjir skeptically. Everyone leaned in to see if he was actually trying to play the rarest hand in the game.
Lyn gasped before Norra could deal the final card. Everyone turned to look and see if the woman was ok, but she was fixated, wide eyed at the water pouring down the transparisteel.
“Hon, are you alright?” Tressa sounded worried and put a hand on Lyn’s shoulder. But the woman just got up from the table suddenly, grabbed her cane, and moved across the living room toward the front door.
Jom instinctively put his whisky down and grabbed at his belt where his blaster usually hung. Shit , it wasn’t there though because Norra forbade weapons at these gatherings. Well. Whatever it was that had her spooked, he could at least still punch it…
Everyone else’d had similar reactions. The poor woman had been through enough already, the whole of the Halo’s crew was protective of her at this point.
But Lyn just went to the front door, opened it, and stood in the courtyard just outside of the protection of the roof’s overhang.
Tressa was more than a little worried now. Lyn had episodes now and again where she would break down and need to be taken home, many times ending up tucked into one of her “safe corners” that they had made for her to retreat to when things became too overwhelming. The game entirely forgotten, Tressa’s only thought was to get her partner back home to one of those comfortable nooks.
But Lyn just stood there in the rain, turned her face skyward, and started laughing. Audibly, cheerfully, laughing. Rain!! It never rained on star ships! And if it ever rained on Daikas, she’d never heard it all the way down in the prison levels. How long had it been since she’d seen rain??
She turned back to see the crew in the doorway or just under the overhang, all of them with worry etched on their faces. She saw Tressa braving the rain, reaching out to try and comfort her.
But Lyn laughed. Joy welled up from somewhere deep, somewhere that had been locked away and hidden for too long. Tears mixed with the rain. Good tears. Not like all of those shed over the past weeks and months. How silly that something so simple could unlock something so happy in her heart!
Tressa wrapped herself around the woman and laughed with her, gulping in the relief she felt at simply hearing her voice again. She realized in that moment how free she was. There was going to be a life after the Empire for them after all.