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Chapter Text

"Good things are waiting for us. We'll be out here soon. We'll be back in Coruscant. We'll be together. We'll be rewarded."

The doubt in his eyes red reminded her she was more guilty than she would like. And she truly understood his point of view - without the whole picture Syril had no idea about the importance of their work. She would be doubting herself in his place as well. 

"For what? What have we accomplished?"

Dedra didn't respond verbally. She reached for his face to press her lips against his. She didn't actually silence him with the kiss even though it might feel like it. She kissed him because she wanted to give Syril some motivation to do as she said and think about her words instead of snooping around and putting the plan in risk. Dedra kissed him because she desperately wanted to believe things would get better for them. That was her motivation to finish this whole thing. 

Because something was definitely waiting for them, it mattered only on the point of view if it was good or a disaster. Dedra balanced on the edge to make her mind about it. She sacrificed enough time already to convince herself to think rather positively. The other option... Felt too scary. Too destructive. 

And she desperately needed Syril to be without doubts on her side. 

Dedra couldn't face this alone. 

________

The shouting was getting louder and louder. The people of Ghorman united their voices in one single harmony of a war cry, words of bravery, defiance and pride. Dedra watched the crowd down on Palmo Plaza through the pale reflection of her own figure in the window. Their fists were smashing in the air over their heads as they called for justice and the end of the usurping. 

As they were cheering and demonstrating with nothing but bare hands (and surely guns under their coats) holding boards with short but strong messages for everyone to read. 

All of this for a stone... 

Dedra knew her orders. Follow the situation, wait for three days to see how it escalates naturally, then proceed. It seemed like a key to success - the pride the Ghor were born with played well in the cards Dedra held in her hand.

The cards Krennic with Partagaz gave her and expected her to win. 

What they didn't count with was Syril's curiosity and Dedra's incompetence to ignore his pain. Especially when she desperately needed him to be on her side, to be with her now when she was so vulnerable.

The wall of half truths and never spoken facts she'd built around Syril started to crumble. Dedra sensed it. He was treating her with unusual coldness and reservation that did not meet well with his personality. He'd been keen and on alert, perhaps even too proud for the tiniest details and enjoyed the sense of power he had from his most recent task to infiltrate among the Ghorman Front. 

But never so... Cruel. 

His eyes were burning with disgust when he marched in Dedra's office in the middle of the day, not caring about keeping the nature of their relationship a secret. 

"Care to explain what the mining ships are doing here? And what do they have in common with the demonstration outside you suddenly so mercifully allowed?"

Dedra's lips dropped in a low grimace. She felt her heart clenching. She could handle arguing with Blevin for hours without the slightest hesitation, but she felt powerless when the only man she truly cared about was angry at her. 

"I'm following orders. You follow yours," Dedra answered with an attempt to sound just as cold as Syril did. Or how she usually did. 

Syril suddenly chuckled, eyes widened in disbelief.

"What orders, Dedra? What exactly am I doing here except run where you show me, thinking I might finally achieve something, and now it seems it was just a move to distract me from stars knows what?"

Do you feel the fire, Dedra? That is your shame. Burning nasty. Right in your soul.

Dedra took another step to him, gazing right in his eyes. This was hardly a good moment to argue, especially when the only thing Dedra needed right now was to sit back in her chair and wait for the nausea to end. 

"Do you see this, Syril?" Dedra pointed at the three blue squares on her chest. "This means my power is as limited as someone with a higher rank says. With that comes the responsibility to bite my tongue when I know I can't share classified information." For a second her face clenched in pain. "And I assure you that you were doing your part so well, you-"

"Would it be that hard to say it like this? To say 'Syril, I'm sorry, but the information is classified, you are a part of it but I can't tell you the truth because of orders from Partagaz' or whoever?" He shook his head. "It would be easier to accept that I'm not actually allowed to know things than being.... Used to do whatever you want."

For that Dedra had no answer. Syril wasn't wrong about this - as much as she wished she could be angry at him for talking back and suggesting very much very real solutions, the blonde lieutenant just swallowed the answer. In the end, Syril would despise the results anyway.

A price for loving a man obsessed with order and justice. 

Her silence made Syril nod. "Very well, Dedra. I guess there is nothing more we could say." He straightened his shoulders, his muscles tensing under the fine silk. 

A wave of dread and panic washed over her.

Was she losing him so easily?

"You can't walk away now!" Dedra's hand grabbed his arm to stop him from leaving. She felt the soft material of his coat under her fingers, the Ghorman silk sending a soft yet cool feeling in her finger tips.  

"Syril please," she repeated desperately, closing the gap between them with one single step. Her heart was pounding against her ribs painfully. Her stomach twisted. To this day, she never put the truth in the three words she needed to say. Because that would make it too real. And Dedra was certain there would be time. A better one. And a better place as well.

It should not be like this. 

This was wrong.

Dedra had this moment planned to the tiniest detail. They were supposed to go for a dinner on Coruscant, in that one restaurant they both could address as their favorite. Dedra would wear the dress Syril bought for her here on Ghorman. The light golden silk was her color after all. They would celebrate the successful mission to be over and them being back home. Dedra would ask Syril for a short walk before going home and once they would sit near by a fountain, she would finally tell Syril about what was waiting for them.

"Syril... I'm pregnant."

This was wrong.

The way Syril looked back at her was wrong. Dedra pressed her jaws together to suppress the need to start tearing up. Her teeth sink in the inner side of her cheeks, biting the flesh to stay focused. 

"You don't believe me."

Dedra tried to make it sound like a cold, strict accusation that would hit Syril with guilt, but his anger was his shield. He didn't flinch. He didn't let her provoke him.

The lack of shock pained her the most. 

"Why should I? Why should I believe you anything, Dedra? It seems I don't have any reason to believe you anything ever again but doubt what you already told me." 

Her lips twitched. 

"Do you really think I am that pathetic to lie about this?" 

As someone who didn't grow up surrounded by the vivid palette of emotions, Dedra had never learned to manipulate somebody by using the power of feelings. She knew only one person who could be a master of guilt baiting: Eedy Karn. As much as Dedra didn't want to admit it, she was amazed how Eedy could easily play with Syril's heart - a high pitched voice, glassy eyes, hand dramatically placed over her chest. All that she needed to get Syril where she wanted him to be - at least until Dedra didn't step up between them and became the object of all Eedy's life struggles and problems. But the point was that Dedra could never naturally do such a thing. Not only would she probably never look in the mirror without feeling shame if she tried to cry for Syril's attention, he would surely spot the dishonesty of her action.

And as much as she hated to admit it would be a brilliant manipulative move to make Syril stay, announcing her pregnancy was just as hard as accepting the truth for her. Dedra considered herself intelligent enough, yet this one lie wouldn't cross her mind, not even in her wildest dreams. 

Even though it would be a smart move considering what once Syril told her.

Dedra laid with her head on his chest, listening to the steady sound of his heartbeats. It was strangely comfortable, just like his warm palm on her naked back. Syril rubbed small circles with the tip of his thumb in her pale skin, leaving temporary light red trails of his nail behind. Somewhere over their heads hummed the air-condition and Dedra felt her mind falling in a cloudy trance. 

"Could we be considered as a family?" 

Her platinum blonde hair slid over her shoulders as she lifted her head to look in his eyes. It was crystal clear he didn't expect this question - not from Dedra. Syril's eyebrows arched. 

"I... What?" 

"I'm serious," Dedra insisted, rolling on her stomach to see his face better. "Look at us, Syril. Look how far we came. I'm just curious if what we have between us could be socially acceptable as an idea of family." 

"Well..." Syril scratched his head, his curls falling on his forehead. "I suppose we could... But why are you asking?" Dedra let her body speak for her and she shrugged. "As I said, I'm just curious. You grew up with a family, I figured out if someone should know, it's you." 

Maybe she was curious because she couldn't find a proper word of what she and Syril were. Lovers? It sounded too cheap. Partners? Too formal for the nature of their relationship. Family? Dedra couldn't tell as she lacked the experience and had zero memories of her family life. 

In her mind, they were Dedra and Syril and it was good enough for her - but what was truly behind it? 

"You forgot my only family is my mother," Syril reminded her with such a sour grimace on his face even Dedra herself could consider him as a worthy opponent. "And as much as I dislike it, I guess uncle Harlo as well, even though I would be much happier if you dug some more dirt on him so I could rub it in his face the next time I will be so unfortunate to see him..." 

Dedra didn't miss the joke, but she didn't react either. She tilted her head curiously instead. 

"And your father?" 

His hand on her back stopped. She clearly hit a sensitive string. 

"I don't really remember him. He left for two years a few months before I was even born, then returned and left again when I was... Five, I think?" 

Now it made sense that Eedy was Syril's role model when he was growing up - Dedra could tell he wasn't happy about it at all, and that was just very simplified. Syril hated the mark of being 'delicate'. He felt like he never grew up to be the man he was supposed to be with his father not being around. 

"I remember the feeling of missing him in my life, knowing he might be out there somewhere. And later in my life, I promised myself I would never be like my father. I would never walk away from my spouse and my child because I wouldn't want them to come through the same emptiness I did." His lips twitched shortly as his gaze dropped away from Dedra's face. "Not that we would get in such a situation," Syril added quickly. At that moment Dedra realized the truth: Syril wanted children. But he would never ask her to make such a sacrifice she wouldn't want herself.

And back then, Dedra felt grateful for that. She just nodded and ended that topic with a kiss. 

Today, at this very moment, Dedra hoped she could still rely on that. Even in anger. Even though everything between them started crumbling and falling apart. 

She never wanted to admit she wasn't good enough for something, but stars, how could she bring a child into this world on her own? 

For the first time since he approached her, Syril closed his eyes with a heavy sigh. He leaned his knuckles on a desk.

"Will I sound like a horrible bastard if I ask you for proof, Dedra?" 

Well, it was confirmed, then - he had doubts. Dedra's lips thinned in a narrow line. She wanted to feel angry at him for asking, but one part was telling her she is now only getting what she deserved for choosing the path of lies and holding information from Syril. 

However Dedra's wounded pride screamed louder. 

"I will be here for you always when you need something, it doesn't matter what is that," Dedra mimicked his tone with a scornful grin on her lips. "Unless I truly need your support, I guess," she sneered. 

Syril didn't react to her provocation. "That wasn't no." He took the bare minimum from it. Oh, how well she taught him to do that. Dedra put on her best stone hard face to agree with him.

"That wasn't no."

_______ 

"Lieutenant Meero, Mister Karn, what can I do-"

"Is she pregnant, Doctor?" Syril cut Doctor Vier, an imperial medic who had her office in the same building, before she could even finish the sentence. His hands were resting on his hips and Dedra, standing next to him with her back straightened, felt blood flowing in her cheeks.

Such humiliation. 

The redhead doctor seemed to be stunned with shock - her patients from the ISB branch usually didn't show with such a request and in such an emotional state. Quickly she shifted back to her professional position. 

"I cannot share Lieutenant's medical records without her permission, you know tha-" 

"Let me ask you a different question then," Syril interrupted her again. If the situation wasn't against Dedra, she might even feel proud for this side of Syril, going with passion and ambition after the result. "Is there a way for me to know as a potential father?" 

Doctor Vier's eyes swung between them like a pendulum. She was obviously trying to figure out what was happening in front of her.

"Not without Lieutenant Meero’s permission." 

Dedra's voice sounded surprisingly cold for how shaken she felt. 

"Permission granted. I have nothing to hide from you."

The doctor nodded. She took them both inside her office and asked Dedra a few questions about her condition. Considering how early the pregnancy was and how limited she was here with the equipment, Doctor Vier suggested a blood test which felt less horrible for Dedra herself. She didn't know if she could bear more embarrassment with the heavy cloud of arguments between her and Syril, although the next twenty minutes in the waiting room did no better justice to the situation.

The silence between them felt too loud. 

Dedra let her hand lay limp next to her thigh, partly hoping Syril would take her in his warm palm and show her that he is the support he claimed to be. But Syril's eyes were strictly gazing at one point on the floor as if the dirt was the most interesting thing he'd ever seen. His knee was slightly bouncing in anxiety. 

Dedra broke the silence first. 

"Will you at least look at me?" 

Another 'please' almost slipped through her lips. Her ego held her back, strong and supportive as a shield from humiliation and vulnerability. 

But her desperation was stronger. 

"Syril?" 

He slightly turned his head to Dedra, but he didn't even have the time to take a breath before the door opened and Doctor Vier came outside. Both of them stood up at the same moment, Syril lifting his chin in a silent question. 

"I have your results, Lieutenant," Doctor Vier announced, taking a brief look at the glowing screen of her datapad. "Considering your position I ordered to run the test twice, just to be completely sure. Pregnancy confirmed positively, third week just like you said. If you want, I can contact a specialist to register you as a regular patient - I cannot do more for you now.”

Dedra felt herself just nodding and Syril thanked the doctor instead of her. Once they were alone, she slowly turned to Syril. Now he had it confirmed - Dedra was pregnant. She carried his child under her heart. Their child. If she had any anger left, perhaps she would now be sour enough to jab Syril with "I told you so", however she swallowed those words back, waiting for Syril to finally say something. Anything. 

Syril fully turned to her. Instead of speaking he wrapped his arms around her and pulled her in a tight embrace. Dedra let him. She needed that hug more than any words. Her face disappeared in the crook of Syril's neck, her nose buried in the soft collar of his coat. 

Did he always smell this good? 

"The child won't fix our problems, Dedra,” Syril said as he cupped her face in his big, warm palms. Dedra's hands covered his. “We must do that.”

She agreed.

And suddenly it felt easier to breathe. Especially when Dedra took one of Syril's hands from her face and possessively directed him to touch her stomach. 

Nothing else matters. Only us.

Chapter Text

The short moment of peace in each other's arms passed. The crushing strength of reality hit her again when Syril repeated his question.

"What is the true meaning of this mission?"

Oh, the truth. Everyone always asked for the truth even if they knew about the danger it would burn them and leave scars. How easier it would be to slip in another comfortable, precisely threaded lie, smooth like the Ghorman silk. 

But Dedra lost her right to lie. To keep Syril in the merciful darkness, leading him only on the safe road. She couldn't risk his patience running out. Not when Dedra still doubted if he would stay despite having the pregnancy confirmed.

"The plan was- is to suppress a rebellion," Dedra said quietly. "The demonstration is supposed to become a riot that will allow our troopers to defend the Empire from the increasing violation against the law. At this point everyone knows the Ghors are having weapons and this way it will justify... The necessary. And then Krennic can finally get his precious kalkite for some energy project."

Syril's face lost all color. Dedra didn't feel exactly the best, she was nauseous and dizzy, yet her hands moved to support Syril's elbows.  

"The plan is to murder them..." His voice didn't sound angry anymore. "To kill them all for something they were manipulated into. And they want you to be the one to lead the mission?" For the first time he looked at her in shock. "You can't even say it loud, Dedra. You can't possibly want this, you..." Syril's finger pointed directly at her. "You must stop it. Now." 

If she could, she would laugh - stopping the plan directly would be an act of treason. They would see it as rebellion against the direct orders. As a clear message about Dedra's preferences. No one would ask if she sided with Ghors or let Syril trap her in a corner with the threat of leaving if she doesn't make any effort.

"And how am I supposed to do that without getting myself killed?"

Syril pressed his lips together. He looked like he was about to throw up just from having this conversation. Yet he ended up suppressing his panic and giving Dedra the most useless answer possible.

"You are smart, Dedra. I'm sure you can find a way."

_______ 

Dedra used the transmission frequency she and Partagaz had for private or emergency calls. It was a sign that the topic one of them wished to discuss required absolute classification and privacy. Or at least now in Partagaz's case - Dedra had Syril watching her from the corner of the room. Her frustration and bad mood didn't discourage him to leave her alone here. 

How much can he actually distrust me?

"Dedra." Partagaz's face stared at her through the screen, emotionless yet calm as usual. From the way he didn't use her rank and called her strictly by her name she assumed they had the privacy she needed. "I expect you to give me a report in three days, so I predict the success of your mission is not the reason why you contacted me." 

"That is correct, Sir," Dedra started. She felt nervousness swirling in her guts. Her hands clasped together behind her back to stop them from trembling. She took a shaky breath. "The reason why I need to speak with you is... Much more delicate." Her tongue was too heavy, almost paralyzed. She did her best to control her voice from breaking. "I want to request to be called off the mission immediately. For the success of the project I suggest to name someone... More competent." 

Partagaz arched the eyebrow above his right eye. "That is not an usual request... There would have to be a particularly serious nature to extract you from the lead." 

He questioned her. He knew that since the beginning Dedra never wanted to participate in Ghorman and she didn't want to stand in the lead either. Dedra was sure he assumed that she failed under the pressure of her own disfavor.

Even that would be better than the truth, considering the situation.

"You are so close, Dedra." Partagaz leaned closer to the camera. Even though there was a screen and thousands of miles between them, Dedra tried her best to not move with her eyes because it felt like he was staring right in her soul. "Calling you off would be unwise and I cannot permit that - not just because it's not the career growth you imagined."

Dedra could swear she saw Syril rolling his eyes. Her nails dug in her fingers behind her back. 

"I'm more than aware of that, Sir. But this has nothing to do with my personal preferences." Her knees started to shake as well, luckily for Dedra not even Syril could see that. The words hardened on her tongue. 

They were meant for Syril's ears only, at least at the beginning...

"I didn't feel quite well recently. And now I just got my result from Doctor Vier and she confirmed that I'm pregnant. Third week. This is about my health and safety, Sir. And I do not wish to stand in the lead in such a vulnerable position."

Dedra's worry about her safety wasn't a complete lie. She no longer trusted guards among her, not after their failure on Ferrix, when they left her alone in the mob. She remembered it too well how it felt to be pushed from all sides, desperately trying to stay standing just to lose her balance and feel panicking people running over her back - before someone realized who Dedra was and started dragging her away, screaming in fear and dread of death. To this day her heart started pounding when she thought about it and Dedra would do anything to avoid a situation like this again.

Among all the touches on her body, the cold hand on her shoulder that belonged to death itself felt the cruelest. It shouldn't feel this way. It shouldn't send freezing, dreadful pain all over her body right to her heart; a proof she actually, despite the rumours, had one. 

Dedra's fingers were scraping through the sharp gravel. It was unforgiving and unsteady, a reminder that she had nothing to hold on to. Her own screams were deafening her, digging in her ears as a reminder how pathetic it was to think she ever had the fate of her life in her hands. 

No. 

She became a prey, a beast in white coat that deserved nothing but to die. Those people whose hands were grabbing her body and dragging her away from the thought of safety yearned for her blood. They all came to honor another woman - a woman whose spark didn't disappear even though there was nothing more left of her - and now fought in her name. Were they afraid they might be the next one turned into a cold stone if they paid for their rebellion with the highest price? Perhaps. But before that they wanted to tear her down with them. What value did Dedra's life have in their eyes? 

Her lungs felt full of dust and yet her screams didn't weaken. She was battling for the bare humanity she had left, trying to crawl away like a worm in dirt. If she wasn't so focused on surviving, she would feel embarrassed. However there was no time or space for it and Dedra knew it would be better if she'd felt embarrassed earlier - that would mean she actually made it out alive. 

But now, when dozens of fingers were tearing into her not so white uniform? When her mind threw on her the possible scenarios of what might happen next? 

Her face was roughly pressed in the dirt and gravel and she let out another whimper of pain. Dedra felt her bones fighting to not surrender under the pressure of someone's hard, solid shoe. Suffocating on her sobs, she felt as her ribs cracked under a sharp kick. She believed in no gods, yet now she prayed that her broken ribs wouldn't rip through her lungs.

Under the monster, as they labelled her, there had been a human the whole time. Stripped out of humanity, of control, of any dignity at all. A human who lied to herself through the years of her life - she was scared of death after all. Scared of not having control over it, scared of having it taken from her. 

Scared of being forgotten for good. 

The local rebels had their families, friends, colleagues or a community that would mourn them. Turn them into another stone during an honorable ceremony with their name carved into it. 

But Dedra Meero... 

For the first time in her life she regretted the solitude. 

They were like vultures feasting on the fallen ones and they knew it. In a situation like this, when it didn't matter who took a shot and who held the gun, no one paid attention to another white coat and certainly no one thought of sparing her; why should they? 

Dedra felt a couple of hands all over her - pulling her strictly styled hair, grabbing her throat, her clothes, her belt, a rough palm silencing her as it clasped over her mouth. Her instinct ordered her to fight till the end, her injuries the other way... 

She was barely conscious when someone dragged her completely aside from the road. Her body felt too heavy to defend herself. Whatever they wanted to do with her now, break more bones, punch her in the name of some dear member of their family she'd never heard of, slit her throat, she was defenseless. 

To her surprise, if she could even feel anything as surprise next to the chilling, primal fear, she heard a familiar male voice, ordering to go with him - as if she had a choice with a blaster pressed against her back. He pushed her in a narrow alley and then through a door, shutting it behind them and hiding from the riot in darkness.

Dedra prepared for the last act of rebellion, for the last fight of Dedra Meero with nothing but an improvised weapon she grabbed from a shelf.

Even if he didn't flinch, she would still miss.

A familiar pair of blue eyes was staring at her.

"You?! How?" 

She knew the eyes. She knew the devotion and relief that he got to her right in time.

"You were in trouble."

She was in trouble. In the kind of trouble she couldn't handle on her own. Not then, and certainly she wouldn't be able to deal with such a situation today, especially when she had more than one life to protect now. 

"You will answer personally to Director Krennic," Partagaz said after a moment of silence. That didn't surprise her, however it made Dedra's stomach feel heavier. Although she had a valid, legal reason for her decision and was shielded by the law about protecting the health of the ISB workers, she didn't look forward to explaining it to Krennic. 

"I count on that, Sir," she responded shortly. "However I believe my medical records and the positive results about my work on the Ghorman project to this day will prove that this decision was made after very long and very precise calculations and that I have no intentions to sabotage Director Krennic's hard preparations." 

Syril glanced at her from the corner of the room. Dedra ignored him - she didn't want Partagaz to suspect Syril being involved. So far the Major only knew that Syril was most probably the father of Dedra's child (considering Dedra's reservation in personal life it wasn't that hard to figure it out). She couldn't read anything from his eyes anyways. 

"That is settled, then. I will inform him immediately about the changes and you are allowed to return back to Coruscant - I assume he will want to speak with you as soon as you land, but I will send you more details after the conversation with him." His eyes narrowed, disappearing in the sea of wrinkles on the thin skin around them. "Be careful, Dedra. Don't travel alone - don't go anywhere without a guard."

Was that a hint of worry in his voice? It wouldn't be the first time Partagaz showed her affection above their professional boundaries. After everything Dedra went through in the last few hours, the care about her wellbeing warmed her heart. 

"Understood, Sir." 

She ended the transmission, feeling something heavy in her chest. Dedra lifted her eyes from the black screen to Syril. "As you can see, I did what you asked for. Are you happy now?" 

She wasn't even in the mood to scorn at him. 

"No, I'm not happy," Syril answered, pushing himself from the wall he leaned on. "None of this is a reason to be happy, maybe just relieved. But I can hardly feel anything else except feeling torn - because you obviously see this only as my attempt to ruin your career instead of saving you from making something you can't take back." He paced to her close enough to brush with his fingers over hers. 

"You think you are so hard to read, don't you? But I know this look, Dedra. I'm the villain in your eyes. You think this is my revenge and payback, using pressure and manipulation against pressure and manipulation." 

"Stop telling me how I feel," Dedra hissed back at him, her chin lifted up as a threat. "Because you can't possibly know that. But if you must know, I feel really bad, Syril - I feel bad because this stupid Krennic's project has been rotting in my life for almost two years and so far it only complicated everything. I told Partagaz I DON'T want this, my ambition had been to find Axis. But it wasn't my decision to make and now I'm here, losing the ground under my feet and nothing I do is what I want to do."

She didn't give him the luxury to interrupt her when she took a deep breath to continue. 

"And on top of that I can't even keep the one piece of prospecting future and being forced to tell three people already in less than an hour that I'm pregnant." Her gaze was as cold as ice. "Did you even think about that? How vulnerable does that make me feel? How vulnerable will I look now that I'm getting called off? How incompetent?" 

"I told you already I'm not happy about it and I want to be sorry for you, Dedra, I really do, but it's not exactly easy." 

Dedra raised her left eyebrow. They were spinning in circles, throwing guilt at each other and it wasn't solving anything. She didn't want to argue with Syril. She didn't want to cower and take insults either. 

"Easy?" She huffed and grabbed the edge of the desk again. "You know what also wasn't easy? Convince myself that I actually want to have this child with you. If the sacrifices I need to make are worth it. If it's anything else besides a mistake that should never happen and if I should keep it." 

Before Syril, she was never intimate with someone. Just the idea of sex felt like a violation of her boundaries and what she was comfortable with. Besides rumors Dedra had never slept her way to the position where she was today - not only would that mean to actually show herself stripped not only from her dress but from her dignity as well, Dedra would never choose such a cheap tool to achieve her success. 

And because of that the thought of children had never crossed her mind. However when she looked back just about two years ago, if she found herself in a similar situation, she wouldn't hesitate to get rid of the consequences. 

But this wasn't the result of an irresponsibly spent night for the simple pleasure of feeling a man's touch. This came out of her relationship with a man Dedra loved. It was something of theirs.

Purely theirs. And when she considered her next step, Dedra could imagine living this life with Syril. With them raising a child. 

But could she even count on that now? With everything that was going on between them? 

She slowly reached her hand to Syril's face. Her small palm cupped his soft cheek. Dedra's thumb brushed over his cheekbone. She could feel it sharper under his skin. He must've lost some weight - most probably from stress and she knew she was the reason for Syril's restlessness. 

"I don't want to be angry at you." His hand covered Dedra's. "But I can't pretend I'm okay with what you plan to do to the people here. Or what you would be okay with proceeding without a real reason." 

Dedra could repeat once again that she was following orders from above. Krennic decided to send Partagaz as his player for a deadly chess game and Dedra was Partagaz's queen. Undoubtedly powerful but only in the field where he moved her. 

Just like many times before Dedra thought it was a mistake to make Syril a part of this. Back then she thought she was doing him a favor when she saved him from his boring, office job with no real vision of prosperity. Partagaz told her that Ghorman was a gift, one that she could shape and modify to her will as long as she gets the result. She spent too long thinking about it and how to make it at least a little bearable, to make her forget the sour taste of disappointment of having Axis taken from her.

Bringing Syril in the game was a blind shot in the dark, Dedra had no idea what to expect from this, how their relationship survives the separation with only professional, short calls about the situation. But then she saw how his spark returned. How proud he was of this opportunity, for becoming a part of something bigger and undoubtedly important for what they believed. And she found herself slowly feeling like this project was not just an itchy spot under her skin because she finally saw something positive about it. Even though it was something as simple as seeing Syril truly happy about it. 

"It's over now," Dedra said simply. What more could she sacrifice? She had nothing left to give anymore. Nothing to be robbed of. Dedra Meero from the past before Syril would be disgusted with her if she saw how pathetic present Dedra was for a man.

However Dedra from this timeline didn't miss the loneliness at all. And she would do anything to not feel it again - after knowing how she can be loved and desired she could hardly stand it without breaking.

She took a step closer.

It truly was the most addicting pain.

"You used to fight for me, Syril. For me as a person. For my attention. For my favor." Dedra swallowed. "Would you still do that? Not just for the sake of the child, but for me as me?" 

And Syril was addicted just as well.

"Fight? Dedra, I'm a fool who never learns. I would still die for you.”

Chapter Text

They left Ghorman during the night, when the town finally got quiet and when the only sounds that could be heard in the darkness were the steps of patrols that were keeping an eye over the streets. The Ghors were sent home a few hours ago when the curfew approached. Some were arrested for disrespecting the direct order - as if their demonstration and yelling on the plaza somehow helped. How shortsighted of them to get imprisoned so easily for something completely preventable. 

Not that any of this was Dedra's business anymore. She'd been legally called off for 'medical issues' as Major Partagaz kindly informed the rest of the council and it was not on her to hold her hand over the situation and handle it just as they planned for months. His interpretation spared her of the worst humiliation, but most importantly, it didn't give anyone the wrong idea that there could be some sympathies with rebellion from her side. Getting accused of a treason was serious and one of the things she would gladly live without experiencing. 

And there was absolutely no way Dedra would put Syril in such a position. Because in the end, what he did, what he made her do, was nothing more than a treason. She'd witnessed people losing their dignity, freedom or even lives for less. The Empire stood on the steady stones made of rules and laws, hard, unforgiving but sacred and almost saint. The Empire did not tolerate disobedience of what was strictly given - how simple it was to follow the order? It did not spare the high and mighty just as it didn't spare fools and so-called heroes. It might be cruel and out of reach, but it worked. It was a certainty. The order of things.

There was no place for emotions.

The wipe out of Ghors was a strictly given point and all the threads of destiny led there. It was inevitable. Yet Syril still refused to see the point - with or without Dedra in lead, it would still be done. The only difference would be whose hands would get dirty from the blood of Ghorman. And she didn't dare to ask if he did that because of sympathies he felt for the people he lived among for the past few months, or if he wanted to save the illusion of Dedra's innocence. 

Still a treason. 

And she had to make sure that no one would ever know. It was a very hard pill for her to swallow - from all the people around her Syril would be the last one she would ever suspect of switching sides. Not that Syril would join the rebellion and turn the weapon against what they believed in, however he started to think like a rebel. And Dedra was guilty of overlooking it, of pretending it didn't happen. 

Ghorman is a gift, Partagaz told her. What he never mentioned was that the gift would come with a curse throwing a large shadow in her life. 

________

The shuttle was quiet. Too quiet to Dedra's likeness although she would normally appreciate the silence more than anything. She disliked wasting time on meaningless chatting, but how she wished she could speak with Syril about... Anything, actually. Maybe start a conversation with a question if he would like to join her to go to the opera once they are back home. 

But Syril's spirit wasn't there in the seat next to her. He didn't leave Ghorman. He disapproved of the plan to make it look like a necessity to suppress the growing turmoil and secure order to protect the galaxy from rebellion. In his mind, he was trying to find a way to force the Ghorman Front to pack their belongings, to take the necessary and leave the planet. They would lose their home as soon as the mining of kalkite would start, but they didn't have to die there. Deep inside Syril also knew that this was a homeland of the proud community who refused to take a step aside and cower when Tarkin's ship landed. They would not leave even though the Empire had already won. The Ghors were holding onto hope - stupid, but strong. 

Syril was drowning in a black ocean of his sins, but when Dedra reached her hand to save him, he pulled her in the waves with him instead. They weren't bound just with love anymore - they were bound with a crime and betrayal against the Empire. 

All of this grew from a lie. 

And now they had to keep lying. 

If Dedra could go back in time, she would be more resistant against accepting Ghorman; against Partagaz pushing her in. With every small victory she achieved with the project was Dedra losing Syril. 

Her eyes found his face. The empty look of his eyes made her heart clench more than the anger he felt for her before when he refused to believe Dedra was pregnant. With the curse of Ghorman she was bringing home just a ghost of a man who only about a few days ago couldn't suppress his enthusiasm when Dedra arrived. He worshiped her that night as the most precious thing in his life. 

He told her he would die for her, but she hardly wanted his death in her name - she wanted his heart just as selfishly as she gave him hers.

She silently leaned her head on his shoulder. How could he be so close and so far from her? 

Was it my fault? Or was it no one's fault at all?

Dedra's eyelids started to feel too heavy. She surrendered to the urge to close her eyes. The tiredness reminded her that her own body was no longer only hers, but the child's as well.

Her and Syril's child.  

Her consciousness swam in the sweet haze of dreams and sleepiness, however Dedra could swear she felt Syril leaning his cheek against the top of her head.

The phantom kiss in her blonde hair sent her in the much needed rest. 

_______

Their apartment bathed in the golden morning light as the sun appeared on the horizon. In another universe they would enjoy the show, the ordinary yet spectacular sight, standing side by side, watching through the window as the warm rays of light would kiss their pale cheeks, welcoming home the heroes who successfully accomplished their mission.

In reality Dedra immediately rushed into the bathroom and collapsed on her knees just in time to relieve her wildly upset stomach. She let Syril stand with all their things at the door. There was no time to explain what her mornings look like now. Dedra learned to sleep with her hair in a low ponytail because she didn't want to risk that they would get in the way. 

It was enough that she was currently stressed because of her white uniform.

Dedra's fingers clawed in the edges of the toilet. She was disgusted with herself. The feeling of shame burned in her chest. She was shivering. The lights were too bright, too blinding in the contrast of the ivory walls of their bathroom. There was no dignity left behind as Dedra curled up on the floor, her forehead resting on her clenched fist. 

When her body finally calmed enough for her to trust it might be all, Dedra slowly raised her head. A pulsing pain was throbbing somewhere between her brain and her skull, spinning in circles until it settled down right between her eyes. To her surprise it seemed she didn't disgust Syril enough to hide away from her (she wouldn't complain if he did, Dedra didn't want him to see her like that) because he immediately helped her on the feet and gave her a glass with pink mouthwash to rinse her mouth from the horrible taste.

By the look on his face it seemed that Syril just realized that Dedra's pregnancy wasn't just a bunch of words he believed in because they were confirmed by a doctor.

"Partagaz called," Syril said as Dedra slowly left the bathroom with one hand still pressed on her stomach. She needed to stop wearing her belt so tightly. "Krennic will be in the Bureau building this afternoon. He wants you to meet him." 

Of course he does. 

After all, it was his project and Dedra worked under him, following the orders she got from Krennic. Even if her resignation didn't change anything about the plan with Ghorman, he surely wanted to know why she stepped back at the last minute. Why didn't she finish the job when all she had to do was give one permission. 

To say one word.

And she will have to convince him there was nothing more besides her health that made her do something so... Low.

___________

Paranoia happened to be Dedra's loyal companion as she headed to her meeting with Director Krennic. She felt like all eyes were on her, all the muffled conversation gravitated towards Dedra and her incompetency - what else would it be from their point of view? Blevin, Lagret, Heert, all of her colleagues... What did they think about Dedra's return from Ghorman without completing the mission? 

She actually was envious of Syril - in the eyes of the ISB he was just an unimportant quiet little mouse who sneaked away because no one would suspect him of anything. 

And she was the one who was anxiously waiting for Krennic to question her. Her heart was pounding against her ribs and it didn't help that she stressed over the fact she was stressed. 

It was both a horror and a mercy when the door finally opened. 

"I would apologize for the later arrival," Krennic started as he approached Dedra, his white cape sinisterly swirling along his figure, "but you are supposed to be on Ghorman and lead my soldiers, not sit in this nasty office." He looked at her over the tips of his connected fingers. Dedra did her best to not nervously swallow. "Supervisor Meero, I personally chose you because during the first meeting you were the only one to prove to actually have a brain instead of an empty space where the wind blows between your ears. And you actually came with a good and functional plan, claiming one success after another..." His smirk dropped into a threatening grin. "Just put your hands away at the last minute." 

He went silent for a second. Two. Three. Dedra took it as a clue to explain herself now. She straightened her back to control her voice from shaking - the last thing she wanted was to sound like she was about to burst into tears. 

"I believe you know the reason from Major Partagaz," Dedra started. "During 'the last minute', as you call it, I got the result of a certain medical test that confirmed my pregnancy. If I had any certainty that I would be absolutely safe during the order, I wouldn't feel the need to return back to Coruscant."

The words tasted sour on Dedra's tongue and felt heavy in her head. This sounded somehow worse than when she spoke with Partagaz and came with pretty much the same story. But Partagaz had some kind of platonic attachment to her and it was easier to convince him because he didn't want to risk Dedra's life.

However Orson Krennic...

He needed more than just one selfish decision. Dedra had to speak more decently about the Ghorman project and its importance and less about herself. 

And perhaps he won't tear her to pieces until there is nothing left but her bare, naked, sinful soul.

"I realize that this is on me completely," Dedra continued, taking the courage to look directly in his eyes and keep long eye contact with him. "However it still requires my attention and it changed my priorities - and if I were you, I surely wouldn't want someone whose mind is affected with their health in the lead. It wasn't an easy choice, Director, nothing about Ghorman was easy for me. But I realized that in my condition I cannot serve as effectively as... Usually. And that it would be wiser - for the success of your mission - to replace me with someone currently competent." 

Did it even make any sense? Dedra herself couldn't tell. She didn't exactly sleep last night - the few hours with her head on Syril's shoulder weren't exactly refreshing, especially when the silk on his coat caused Dedra's head to eventually slip and she slept with her neck in a strange, crooked position. And apparently she vomited all remains of her energy during her morning sickness.

She wanted to go home.

"So," Krennic started, slowly marching across the room - without doubt to make her even more nervous. "I should believe this had nothing to do with the rebel alliance. It was simply your good intentions with the energetic project mixed with your sudden urge to settle down and start a family." He tilted his head to his shoulder. "Or maybe I simply overrated your talent to twist smart words to your likeness with turning them real." 

When Dedra had first met Krennic, she didn't think how much she wouldn't want to have this man standing against her because he knew exactly where to hit to hurt. But she knew it very well now. On the other hand, as long as his whole attention was on her and he didn't suspect Syril of being the real threat, she still had some hope. 

"I have no sympathies for the rebel scum, not on Ghorman, not anywhere else," Dedra answered with her usual coldness. Her lips twitched at the memory of Ferrix. "They almost killed me once in the middle of a riot and that is all they know - they're destroyers of peace, they go after weaknesses. And when they can't find it, they create it." 

She looked Krennic in the eyes, her stare deadly serious. 

"They had an opportunity to leave and didn't take it - not years ago with Tarkin, not now. Yes, I told the troopers to allow the demonstration for at least three days instead of one, but not because I would try to find a way to escape. It was for efficiency; the longer it takes, the more probable it's that the Ghors will actually start something themselves. And as they like to repeat: the galaxy is watching. Let everyone see who was attacking and who was defending themselves."

Dedra Meero. Dedra the ISB Supervisor. Dedra the loyal. Dedra the cruel.

Krennic returned her cold stare, but it seemed that Dedra managed to lead his attention the right way. She was no rebel, but she lived with a man who seemed to sympathize with their propaganda. She should immediately report him for that, but she didn't, which was against her own beliefs as well. 

No one could know that. 

"I must admit, Dedra, you certainly know what to say. It's all so perfectly constructed and well fitting it doesn't seem real. But," the maliciousness in his smile dropped, "I unfortunately must consider your medical records and your condition and the law that protects you. And there is not enough proof against you, which is good - the ISB won't see you as a smart rebel spy, just as an emotional, hysterical woman whose brilliant mind was sadly drowned in pregnancy hormones." 

Dedra felt her cheeks burning with shame. There was no win for her in this situation, not without paying first. Not that she would want Krennic to insult her like and attack something so sensitive for her. She forced herself to give a steady smile.

"We run a campaign for young couples to increase the rate of children born under the imperial flag - who else should be the role model if not us?" 

He huffed for himself, his arms clasping behind his back. Was it too childish of Dedra to wish he would step on that bloody cape and accidentally strangle himself?

"Yes yes, I know that very well. We need future soldiers and competent workers in the great imperial machine. But between you and me, Lieutenant, you can say the truth: it was an accident."

The hard truth Dedra didn't want to hear. The hard truth she pushed from her mind not so long ago when she decided to not abort. The hard truth he had no right to say.

"Anyways," he swung his finger in the air as if he just didn't say the most disturbing, disgusting thing he could, "you are right that the Empire needs more young loyal souls like yourself and for that you must stay safe. So, from now on, you will work mainly in administration. No more missions in the field, no more leading and nothing stressful - I'm sure you will find that the post of an assistant can still be quite exciting." 

An assistant.

They wanted to degrade her to a mere assistant. To be an overpaid servant. It was an insult and Krennic knew it. And he also knew that Dedra didn't like it - her face betrayed her. 

"As I said, it is only for your safety, Lieutenant. That is why you give up on Ghorman, isn't it?" 

The question dripped with poison. 

Ghorman is a gift. Ghorman is a curse. Ghorman is a ghost. Ghorman is a punisher and it takes from her, over and over again.

_________

When Dedra arrived home, the sun was already going down. Coruscant turned its golden coat into a pink and orange sink which felt like pure mockery. How could it be such a beautiful evening with everything that happened in the last few hours? Dedra had so much anger in her she scared away anyone who even looked in her direction. Tears of rage burned in her eyes. 

It took a whole afternoon of dealing not only with Krennic, Partagaz wanted to speak with her as well. He tried to comfort her at least as much so that he would keep her as his personal assistant instead of sending her to someone who would surely use their opportunity to put salt in her wounds. That might be the only positive thing that happened to her, Partagaz immediately denied her desperate request to at least get Axis back and agreed with Krennic's solution, just with the difference that from a certain point she would start to work from home. 

The Imperial Security Bureau had no interest in pregnant officers. 

And because Dedra was so lost in her own thoughts, she paid no attention to what was happening around her. She didn't see the people around her talking. She didn't hear them chatting. She didn't see all the screens broadcasting the Palmo Plaza. 

Just once she was home and went to the living room, she saw Syril watching the holonews with an empty gaze. Dedra didn't say a word when she sat next to him to learn what was going on. 

Palmo Plaza was on fire. Someone - probably Captain Kaido - finally finished what Dedra started. Just when she was on the 'briefing' with Partagaz - Krennic really didn't want to waste any time.

"What you witness is the result of the bloodthirsty rebellion," the reporter said, his face scrunched in dramatic, theatrical expression. "The imperial forces of Ghorman were attacked while they provided peace and order. Ghors were allowed to express their thoughts during an organized demonstration, but as you can see, they used the opportunity to murder our good soldiers, strong and loyal men who will never return back to their families. The rate of violence against the imperial services increased in the last few days all over planet, however the Emperor believed-"

Syril switched the screen off. His eyes were glassy with tears and regret. If Dedra had any strength left, this would be the moment to lose all her nerves and scream at him. He didn't even greet her, he didn't ask her how it went, he didn't offer her his arms where she could temporarily find comfort. He only cared about the stupid spider planet. 

"I told you it would happen with or without me." 

Dedra was hurt. She was hurt and because she got so little comfort, her only strategy was giving her pain to others. Usually it wasn't people she would care about tho. 

Syril finally looked at her. He had to see the pain in her eyes and obviously chose to ignore it - or at least it felt that way. 

"Memento Mori Memorare Novissima. Bonis Bona. Malis Mala."

Dedra's eye twitched. She wasn't in the mood for Syril's riddles. "What the hell does that supposed to mean?" 

Syril looked at his own hands as if he could see the ruby blood of Ghors dripping from them. "It is a lament. A beautiful one. The reminder of Death that shall keep the last things as memory. Good for those who are good. Evil for those who are evil." Syril's eyes were cloudy with a black veil of lethargy and tragedy. He kept quoting the lament, this time in the common language. "You, friend of all pathetic humans, take a look at your own life that is slipping away, being nothing, for you must return everything to the vanity of the ground; of the soil you came from with sceptre, crown and honor that is nothing more but mist."

It sounded a little bumpy even to Dedra's non-artistic ear, but for some reason it pushed her anger aside. Temporarily, yet something about the nature of the lament made her stay silent.

"People died, Dedra."

Just people. No 'good' people or 'bad' people. People in general. People of Ghor. People who dedicated their lives to the Empire. People who were in the wrong place at the wrong time. People who came without weapons. 

People Syril knew, spied on and betrayed.

People Dedra would sentenced to death if Syril didn't give her the ultimatum. If she didn't choose him over success and fame. For you must return everything to the vanity of the ground, Syril said. How convenient considering the true nature of Ghors extinction. 

Dedra now suffered of consequences. The real question was if she wasn't deep inside her heart grateful for that. 

"And we are bringing a new life to this world," Dedra said instead. Her hand subconsciously brushed over her lower belly.

Syril took a deep breath. His hand reached to cover Dedra's. "Yes. And it doesn't make us good."

Bonis Bona.

"It doesn't make us bad either." 

Malis Mala.

Which one are you, Dedra Meero? Which one do you truly deserve?

Chapter Text

The sound of the white lightbulb in the lamp standing in the corner made her fist clench. Her short nail dug in her palms as she tried to not lose her mind over the silent humming that buzzed without stopping for the last twenty minutes and it angered her more than it should. She couldn't focus on the words in her datapad when her teeth gritted so hard it could cause abrasion. Dedra didn't have the best day and the stupid lightbulb felt like pouring oil right into flames. 

When the lightbulb buzzed again, this time in different and even more annoying tone, Dedra angrily shut the datapad down. 

She had enough. 

The days she would work overtime just because she had no other life outside her job were gone. Part of her wanted to stay in the old trails as long as possible, it's been only one months since Ghorman and she didn't feel physically as different as in the beginning, however she refused to sacrifice her inner peace for an illusion of something that couldn't return.

Dedra stood up and reached for her tote bag (Syril made one for her a long time ago and now it became useful as she didn't want to carry her metal briefcase). The floor under her black boots spined - at least for the third time this afternoon. Her hand found the edge of her desk and she held on it as the most stabile thing in the whole galaxy. She took a few deep breaths to get some control over her body and when she felt confident enough, Dedra let go of the desk just to sit back in the chair behind her. 

That much about getting up too fast.

She rubbed her eyes tiredly. Her old office gave her at least the needed privacy from the prying eyes of the rest of the stuff in the building. The Imperial Security Bureau worked as a precisely constructed machine that never stopped in its restless service to the Emperor, but that didn't mean some of the machine's parts (Dedra's coworkers) wouldn't take a pause to take a look at the brightest example of wasted potential.

Her condition became a 'public secret' because sooner or later they realized the truth. Most of her colleagues didn't point it out and had better things to do than speculate and gossip about her - after all, Dedra was hardly the first woman in their lines who would go through pregnancy. They were never that close to even chat about their lives, so Dedra didn't realize they might have families on their own, dealing with the same things she did. 

Just with the difference it didn't make them look like total fools and upset one of the most important men in the imperial hierarchy.

Krennic's words still haunted her.

The ISB won't see you as a smart rebel spy, just as an emotional, hysterical woman whose brilliant mind sadly drowned in pregnancy hormones.

Dedra refused to believe that after all her success this would be a real threat and the night before the conversation with Krennic she tried to convince herself that the other supervisors are just as professional as her. 

They will surely understand the reason she'd given in the official request.

Dedra could not say she would be satisfied with her current position, but she had to admit that she was somehow relieved when she didn't have to stress as much as when she had to be in the lead. Besides, Partagaz treated her fairly and with equality as an answer to her hard work and he didn't forget about her true potential. She couldn't thank him enough for pulling her once again from trouble although both of them knew they would never mention it loud. But Dedra tried to express her gratitude in small gestures he surely appreciated more than just lazily saying 'Thank you'. 

Her datapad beeped, this time to sign that Syril was contacting her. She pressed the button to accept the call. 

"Yes?"

Syril's face appeared on the screen. "There's been a situation in the work and I will stay longer. I have no idea when I arrive home, but I suppose that it will take at least an extra hour."

She felt something cold in her chest. Something between anxiety, a need to tear up and longing. He didn't even greet her. He skipped the courtesy she secretly adored to the necessary. Dry facts with nothing personal.

Did Krennic really think that degrading her to an assistant was the worst things that could happen to her?

But Dedra didn't show it would bother her, especially not here. She might have her door closed, however she didn't want to risk that someone could witness her potential breakdown. 

"Alright. Thank you for telling me."

He nodded. His eyes didn't soften. "I still plane to make the dinner, but I will need to go shopping first, there is a few things missing. "

The worst part was that he didn't hate her enough to leave and didn't love her enough to forgive her. 

Stars, what did he do to her? Dedra from the past would never think about love. She felt none for herself and she could hardly give it to others.  But then Syril Karn stormed in her life and turned it upside down. 

And now she was trying to play an ordinary life. 

"I will be leaving soon," Dedra tilted her head slightly. "I can go shopping instead."

"Really?"

"Of course." Why was he so surprised? Yes, since they've been together, it was Syril who volunteered to take this part in running their household, but before him Dedra had only herself. She was used to do everything on her own. Including caring only about herself. But now Syril's worn expression worried her. "Are you alright?"

"What? Yeah, just tired. It will pass." He mimicked her gesture from before and rubbed his eyes. It was hardly surprising that he was tired. Despite his loath to Dedra's part in Ghorman and balancing between the sense of duty and reservation towards her, Syril didn't turn away when she needed him. 

Her sickness this morning was the worst one so far. Dedra doubted she had a soul before and if she did, she probably vomited it out with the rest of everything she'd eaten in the last few days. She no longer felt ashamed, there was no space for that. And she accepted that Syril sacrificed his own sleep just to crouch next to her and caress her back and hair until she was done and totally exhausted collapsed in his arms. He tried to change her mind about going to work today, but Dedra didn't want to even hear about it. Not that she would be so determined about sitting behind a screen and feel bored because Partagaz didn't have anything interesting for her, but because she wouldn't stand if people talked about her weakness. 

And now she just lifted her chin as if she was giving an order.

"Good. Send me a list of what you need."

"I will, but remember to not carry anything heavy."

"I know that, you don't need to remind me."

Part of her wanted to snap at him, but her voice sounded softer. How little she needed to feel Syril still cared about her... Romantic or just pathetic?

"Sorry. See you later then." 

Dedra nodded. She considered if she should say anything else or end the conversation here and pay him with the same coin - facts, not details. No emotions. But her hand clenched the datapad harder as she heard herself saying: "I love you, Syril."

It was a risk that turned out being worth it - Syril gave her a little, even if tired smile and sat closer to the screen.

"I love you too, Dedra."

Syril disappeared from the screen and she plunged in the silence (except the damn lightbulb) again. Dedra suddenly felt too comfortable in the chair and she would prefer if she didn't have to move and simply stay like this. Her hand freely land on her still flat stomach, but she immediately pulled it back when she heard a knock on her door. Dedra switched in her supervisor posture and narrowed her eyes. 

"Come in." 

Among all the faces she would not expect to see, Lonni Jung's was the most surprising. 

"Partagaz told me you'd been still in the building," Lonni started and Dedra straightened her back. "Indeed. What can I do for you?" Her voice was sharp and she didn't put any effort into not making it sound like he better should not ask a thing from her. However it seemed that wasn't his intention when he closed the door behind him.

"No, I'm not here because of work, Dedra. I actually came here with an offer for you." Lonni sat in front of Dedra to be on the same level as her. She never spent that much time with him to actually remember any details about this man. She preferred that their interaction considered of greeting each other and occasionally exchange information - swiftly, professionally, with no meaningless chatting. And because of that, she could label him as one of her more favorite colleagues. 

"I'm not even sure how to start this conversation." His lips twitched in an attempt for a smile, but it lacked confidence. Dedra's deadly stare surely didn't help. "But I think it would be the best to say that I don't want to dig in your privacy, especially when it seems that it's everyone's business." He shook his head anxiously, obviously not satisfied with himself. "Still I would want to congratulate you." 

"Accepted," Dedra answered neutrally. "Is that all?"

Lonni looked at her in mixture of shock and perhaps even fear, which felt truly ironic. Dedra was no danger to him, not anymore. She lost her privileges at the moment Krennic signed her in Partagaz's office as an assistant. Jung could say anything he wanted to her and Dedra would have limited power to fight back. 

"I did not mean to offend you," he tried to save the situation and take it from the other side. "As I told you, your privacy is not my business, but I have a little daughter and I thought you might appreciate that someone doesn't think this is a burden - that you are a burden." 

Dedra smirked ironically, but it was more of a habit than her genuine reaction. "If only everyone were like you." 

Jung scratched his head, not daring to look directly in Dedra's eyes yet. 

"That would not end up well, but anyways... I actually came here to offer you if you wouldn't want some of the stuff my daughter doesn't need anymore. Me and my wife kept most of in the case we would want a second child, but for now we're glad we're alive raising one. All the things for a newborn lay in the attic with no use and now that I know you are expecting..." 

Dedra surely didn't expect this. A wave of shame washed over her because she and Syril didn't start even planning how to prepare their apartment for a child and it was quickly replaced with relief. Lonni offered her something so generous and because he already experienced this with his wife, he surely knew better than the two of them, and that almost made Dedra immediately accept without a second thought. It would make everything easier for her and for Syril.

"I really appreciate it," Dedra started diplomatically, "and I will consider it. However I will give you an answer after a proper discussion with my partner." 

Lonni just nodded, obviously also relieved that his question didn't upset Dedra, but the truth was that she almost thanked him for saving her. 

Almost.

Still, she decided that from now on she would sided with him more than anyone else from her colleagues. For once she needed someone who truly understood her weakness. 

______

The lamp in her office way obviously just the start of things that were mentally draining her with irritation. The tote bag over her shoulder was slipping from her coat to fall over her crooked elbow. Unlike in her office, Dedra could not lose her nerves, not in a grocery store, even though she was almost leaving with everything Syril needed her to buy. Looking at the list, it seemed he wanted to prepare Dedra's favorite meal... 

And it was completely her fault they needed new supplies. A few days ago Dedra couldn't resist the craving for a certain kind of sweet nuts from Naboo and in the dead of night she ate a whole bag of them. There was surely something hilarious about an ISB supervisor sneaking through her own apartment in her own kitchen as if she was a thief.  

She adjusted the tote bag again and stepped aside to not stand in the way of the other people who tried to walk outside of the store. 

Perhaps if she organizes the inside, it will help. 

But maybe she should have just left until she could, because all of sudden she heard a familiar voice saying her name with the sound of two shards of glass gridding together.

"Deeedra," Eedy approached her with a smile on her lips, her hands already reaching to grab Dedra's arm. Dedra's eyes widened in horror. "What a pleasant surprise to meet you here," the older woman continued with enthusiasm one would feel if they got the chance to throw their annoying relatives from the top of a tower. "Tell me, dear, what is someone like you doing here, shopping with the rest of the peasants?" 

Dedra could feel her blood boiling, especially because Eedy's laugh brought the unwanted attention of the people around to them. She discreetly shook Eedy's hand from her arm masking it as an attempt to adjust her bag one more time. 

"Syril is working late today," Dedra answered dryly in hope that the other woman (who reminded Dedra of a living, loud bowl of fruit with all the colors on her questionable robe and jewels) would give up her attempt to speak with her son. And with Dedra herself, of course. "He asked me to buy a few necessities for dinner." 

Maybe she shouldn't say that.

Eedy's eyes lit up and the twinkle sent shivers along Dedra's spine. 

"Isn't that wonderful!" Eedy clapped and gave Dedra a smile so wide she only wondered how her mouth didn't rip. "That means he won't mind if I borrow you for this afternoon. You and I spent so little time together and now that you are finally home from the cursed spider planet, we can fix that." 

Oh fuck.

"I suppose we forgot to inform you about our arrival," Dedra answered and she didn't even try to mask the lie in the tone of her voice, nor did she try to pretend she would be sorry about it. However her opponent was the master of manipulation and the queen of making everyone around her uncomfortable. Not in the same way Dedra did when she questioned someone as a part of investigation, no, Eedy Karn had the natural talent to sense weakness and turn it into her rival's shame and plant the seed of self doubt to achieve a long time result. 

One part of Dedra felt charmed how swiftly and effortlessly such an insignificant woman reached her goals, the other one would gladly find a reason to arrest her and lock somewhere far, far away.

Eedy chuckled and patted Dedra's hand. Her colorful bright bracelets clinked loudly. 

"Apparently so. However Syril's uncle informed me that my son is back in his normal work where he belongs, but why should I call him when he doesn't contact his poor, worried mother on his own?" 

Dedra moved with her eyes away. She was aware of the strange looking situation - she, an ISB supervisor, the face of authority and order, got basically publicly blaimed for a crumbling relationship between a mother and her son. 

"This is hardly a good place for this discussion." Her poor attempt for ending this nonsense didn't meet success because Eedy winked at her. "Right. A quick chat in some store can't give us the thrill of a real conversation." She grabbed Dedra by her arm. "There is a café just behind the corner, a very lovely place where we can comfortably talk."

If she only cared less about her dignity, Dedra might actually cause a scene now. Her coldness had no effect on Eedy and she felt defenseless. Doing something that might actually shock Syril's mother could help, but she wouldn't survive the embarrassment - who else should know better that the ISB had eyes everywhere? The last thing she needed was to feed the beasts with such a sensation as Dedra Meero losing her nerves in front of people. 

She forced herself in a thin, hostile smile.

"Sounds splendid." 

_________

To her relief, the café was designed in minimalistic style and neutral, boring beige tone that gave the sense of calmness instead of overstimulation. She considered it as a miracle - it was too late when she realized that Eedy's favorite café could be a place from Dedra's fever dreams, vivid and stark and marked with a poor taste. 

Eedy elegantly sat in a high grey chair and reached for the menu. Dedra carefully put down her tote bag and slowly took off the coat, even though the creamy white shade of it actually fit there better than she would like. 

"Well, we shall have the finest wine from Chandrila," Eedy decided without reading the rest of the menu properly or giving Dedra a chance to decide for herself. She reached for the list herself, skipping the whole alcohol section. "Not for me. I don't drink." 

Eedy's eyebrow arched. "Since when?"

Since when? Is this woman for real? 

Dedra slowly looked at her over the edge of the screen. Once again she was trying to see any similarities between Syril and his mother, but she couldn't find any - and thank God for that. She decided to mirror Eedy's strategy and slightly smiled. "I've never founded the pleasure in weakening my brain cells with alcohol." She didn't lie. Dedra really couldn't understand how could any sane person take a sip of something as nasty as wine and actually enjoy it for the taste. She suffered toasts with her colleagues at public empire events, sipping it decently the entire evening, but that was the only time Dedra touched alcohol. 

Unfortunately, his wasn't an ISB event, she wasn't among people who wouldn't pay any attention if she "forgot" her glass untouched on table and she wasn't denying it only because she couldn't stand the bitter, gagging taste. Eedy's dark eyes were observing her. With anyone else Dedra would remain calm because from a simple look it was impossible to notice anything - she didn't even look bloated. But under the scanning gaze of Eedy Karn she couldn't be so sure. Especially when the older woman pursed her lips.

"Mhhm... One might think there is a particularly different reason."

She snapped her fingers at the droid barista to approach her and take her order and Dedra felt the corners of her mouth dropping. She clenched her fist under the table.  

"What are you trying to say?"

Eedy just pointed at the wine list, not even bothering to say the droid a word, without breaking the eye contact with Dedra. As much as the blonde Lieutenant tried to mirror Eedy's behavior, the older woman mastered Dedra's cold stare of a predator ready to kill. 

"You are such a smart woman, Dedra... But I am a mother. And I know what I see." Eedy waved with her hand dramatically. "The sudden early return from Ghorman... Heroes don't sneak home in silence, they come with glory, enjoying the spotlight, but you obviously want to not be seen." 

To Dedra's fury, the older woman had a point. She and Syril truly arrived without a word (literally) and whoever took the lead after her obviously was not interesting enough for Krennic to make a hero out of them, especially when just one day after one of the senators openly accused the Empire of commiting a slaughter on Ghorman and the public was not as open to the imperial point of view as they thought. 

They were no heroes, only traitors. 

Eedy of course did not stop there.

"The dark circles under your eyes... You miss your usual spark in your sharpness and you clearly try to hide something. You bark but don't bite - you don't attack, you protect." How satisfied Syril's mother looked with her own deduction... "So, you're either dying which I suppose is not true because Syril didn't crawl home to cry on my shoulder, or, which is more probable..." She stretched her fingers decorated with colorful rings to point are the blonde woman in from of them as the hand of justice itself. "You are pregnant, Dedra, am I right?" 

Dedra's silence gave Eedy her answer. She couldn't get herself to answer, to lie, to tell her she is out of her mind completely. Her own body betrayed her after all, even if not in the way she would expected.

"Besides," Eedy continued, taking the glass of wine from the droid that approached their table again, "a silent little bird whispered in my ear what is going on in your workplace. What everyone knows." 

It brought Dedra no relief to realize that the older woman was no genius after all, knowing that she'd been spied on filled her with rage. And it surely was no professional spying, but what someone heard from her colleagues. 

She will have to take a closer look at the janitors. 

"It doesn't change anything between us," Dedra started coldly. She needed to get her authority back and remind Eedy Karn who was the one in power here. "I will not play a family with you just because Syril and I are going to have a child." She leaned closer to the table, her eyes narrowed dangerously. "Didn't I make myself clear the last time we saw each other? Syril doesn't speak to you and it's his own choice, I just directed him to create the boundaries, and-"

Eedy's fingers grabbed Dedra's wrist and squeezed tightly. No more polite smiles, no more light (even if venomous) tone of a voice. 

"Listen to me, girl. I saw Ghorman in the holonews." Her grip tightened. "Among the bloodthirsty rebels died good, loyal soldiers and for an agonizing day and half I lived with the uncertainty if my son was still alive." Eedy's throat narrowed as she tried to suppress tears. "Do you have any idea how much it hurt when no one could tell me if he died or not because he simply vanished? When he didn't even bother to let me know he was back and safe? Syril could get killed and I wouldn't even get his body back to bury him properly. And for the next month he remained silent." Her eyelids shivered. "I wish you to never know such a fear as a mother."

Dedra's lips parted. What was she supposed to say except: "I didn't know this”? Whatever was going on between Syril and Eedy was as far from an healthy relationship between a mother and a child as possible, but she would think that he at least let her know he was alright. 

"Maybe you did, maybe you didn't, but in the end the message is clear - my son chose a side. He chose you. I know him, Dedra. He will always choose you. He is a fool... And he loves you. And he will love the baby as well."

She will not cry in front of Eedy Karn, she will not shed a single tear.

Oh, but she wanted to cry. Because something about this resonated with her deeper than she would like. Because a woman who despised Dedra more than a plague meant her words about Syril's feelings honestly. Because maybe there was a chance that even though Syril always had the look of guilt in his eyes, his emotions towards her were not completely shattered. 

Maybe one day they will forgive each other.

________

Dedra hardly believed she survived this insane, long, exhausting day, but once the door of their apartment shut close behind her, she let out a sigh of relief. She felt numbness in her mind and wanted nothing more than collapse on her side of the bed and preferably never leave it again. 

Instead of that she headed in the kitchen with the shopping. To her surprise, she spotted Syril sipping caf from his mug there. 

"I thought you would return later," Dedra said instead of greeting him, leaving the bag on the counter. Syril turned to her and nodded slightly. "So did I, however it wasn't as serious as it seemed." 

Dedra nodded back and took off her coat. As she put it on the hanger, she couldn't help but think how many times she could wear it comfortably. It still felt surreal that in a few months she wouldn't be able to dress her own clothes...

"You on the other hand look like you've been through hell," Syril commented and stepped closer to Dedra. He had the same worry in his eyes he had there every morning he took his part as a moral support. "Do you feel sick?"

Dedra could tell Syril the whole truth about her meeting with Eedy - after all, he demanded that Dedra would be truthful to him, that caused all their problems. But she chose the short version of the story. "I was taken hostage by your mother. She forced me to drink tea with her."

He sighed. His warm palm cupped Dedra's cheek in an attempt to comfort her as if she just returned from a battle instead of a random meeting with Eedy Karn. "I... Am sorry, Dedra." He surely knew that it was his mother's habit to pick one person and throw all her struggles and troubles at them, no matter how much they were or weren't interested in the topic.

"Don't be. She gave me a thing or two to think about." 

He loves you. And he will love the baby as well.

Eedy Karn would not say a gentle word to Dedra without a reason, not even as a lie. She didn't know that their relationship was going through thorns and fire and this honesty meant to Dedra more than she would like. 

And to her surprise, Syril's face relaxed into a small smile. "Oh no, is it that serious?" He leaned forward to kiss Dedra's forehead. "We can't have her live in your head. How did they say it in the holomovie? When they banished the dark entity who possesed the main protagonist?" 

For the first time in a long term Dedra laughed. It was genuine and light and somehow natural. She laughed because for the first time in a while she felt relief. Because she started to see hope instead of just holding on the idea of it. Lonni offered the help they surely needed. Eedy didn't wound her, her poisonous words were like the holy water for Dedra.

And Syril... 

His mouth repeat that he wouldn't forgive her for what she would do on Ghorman if he didn't trapped her in a corner. But every single touch, look, smile, kiss told her that his 'never' was slowly turning into 'someday'. 

When she wrapped her arms around Syril's shoulders and pressed her lips on his to kiss him, for a small moment the world seemed to be fine. Surely not perfect, but bearable, easier than before. This flat in the shades of white and grey was their own empire. Where else should they feel safe if not here, in each other's embrace? 

It is alright.

And the light above Dedra's head started to buzz. 

Chapter Text

Sometimes she almost suspected Syril of having the ability to read her mind and know exactly when she struggled. Almost. The only rational explanation of course was that her eyelids were shutting close unwillingly and he noticed, like now when he pulled Dedra's datapad from her hands and put it aside on the table. She grimaced at him. 

"I was working, you know," Dedra growled, but the part of her that wasn't buried under her shattered pride felt gratitude. Syril glanced at the screen with a smirk. "I can see that. And I can also tell you that Partagaz won't be exactly happy if you send him a report full of mistakes." 

She was tired. Her brain screamed for a few hours of sleep. She felt her whole body melting in the sofa she was sitting on and trying to find some comfort. She was also stubborn and didn't take well being told about not doing her job correctly.

Partagaz was, in a certain way of meaning, merciful to her enough to slowly and without anyone feeling suspicious about it let Dedra work on much more delicate and detailed tasks. With Krennic focusing on his project instead of breathing on Dedra's neck, she could prove herself just as valuable as she always had been.

And because of the second chance, she forbidden herself from making mistakes.

"I didn't make mistakes," Dedra insisted and shot an angry glance at Syril. Perhaps a year or two ago he would look down and tried to pretend he didn't throw himself on a thin, already breaking ice, but now her defense humored him. He slowly blinked. 

"Fine, you created a whole new language, then. Because I doubt that without a dictionary anyone will understand what you wanted to say with," another glance at the blue glowing screen, "'A rebel axurisby incetazsin in the Moja-Rau sectin'." 

Stars, was it that bad? Dedra was aware that she didn't focus on her work as precisely as she should and instead of analysing datas she found herself thinking about the afternoon visit at the clinic, however it hit her that she might be tipping literal nonsense. 

Syril's amused grin didn't help.

"A rebel activity increasing in the Mina-Rau sector," Dedra translated without hesitation. "Even a child would figure it out from context." Syril sat next to her, his smirk not fading. "And a child would also tell you without any filter that you have dark circles under eyes and you should go sleep." 

Dedra sighed. But she didn't mind the light jab from Syril, not anymore. Perhaps a few months back she would shot a deadly serious glance at him as a sign that he, from all people possible, shouldn't be making any notes about Dedra's work. She would treat the situation like a hand reaching to slap her face, a hand Dedra would catch in middle of the motion without using physical violence, just with the power of well picked words, constructed in a defensive barrier, and coldly reminded who, in fact, had the upper hand here.

The hard reality was that Dedra had lost the upper hand back on Ghorman.

Sometimes she wondered if it was selfish of her to doubt if choosing to keep the child was the right choice, because everything became just more complicated. In her mind, when she'd held the first positive test in her hand and somehow put herself together from the shock, she planned it would bound her and Syril together. She never dreamed of this. She didn't even think about the possibility when she and Syril discussed the nature of their relationship during sleepless nights. Dedra really didn't need another human to rely on her for the rest of her life. 

However there was something in her that could imagine it - a respectable, decent imperial family from the high floors of Coruscant, keeping the legacy in the very heart of the system. It wasn't a duty, Dedra would never let anyone force such a thing to her. It was a vision of stability and, for the first time since she was taken from her parents, the sense of belonging in a family. 

Not that Dedra's vision would go exactly as she planned.

To this day, Dedra still could taste the bitterness on her tongue when she remembered how she was denied the chance to make the announcement as a festive yet intimate moment. She still remembered her foolish plan about luxurious dinner and gentle touches and warm night under the dark blue Coruscant sky.

The visions of the prosperous future.

But Ghorman, the great gift she should never accept, turned it into humiliating moment of desperation and regrets. Sometimes Dedra had the unpleasant flashbacks at the moment in Doctor Vier's waiting room because without her confirmation Syril would simply throw the years of their relationship over his shoulder and probably didn't look back. 

She never knew Syril Karn from all people could tend to be ruthless. He burned the memento mori in her soul as a reminder of her sins, or the sins she would commit if he didn't give her the 'generous choice' to step back from Ghorman. As if the cursed planet that was already destined to die for the glorious purpose of Emperor Palpatine's project mattered to Syril more than Dedra. 

The question what would happen if she wasn't pregnant and didn't give Syril a reason to stay still haunted her. 

The ability to remain calm and destroy her opponents chance to attack her on a personal, intimate level had always been Dedra's strength, her pride even. The frost in her eyes and in the tone of her voice helped her win an argument many times. 

"The child won't fix our problems, Dedra. We must do that."

A simple task. Dedra was no stranger to correcting mistakes. During her time in the ISB, she willingly took the constructive criticism from Partagaz, she listened, nodded, learned, remembered. 

Oh, how she underestimated the power of emotions, in her case supported by stormed hormones. 

It happened few days after she ran to Eedy. Syril sat on the same spot where she was sitting now.

His dark blue eyes gazed without focus at a blind spot on the table. Dedra watched him for a while before she tilted her head curiously.

"What are you thinking about?" 

He didn't answer her. Once again she had a ghost in her home instead of her partner. The ghost that decided to parasite on her inner peace and torture her with emptiness and sorrow. 

Dedra pressed her lips in a thin line.

"Considering it was a classified information I couldn't share, does it really matter that I didn't tell you the truth about the project?" 

Syril slowly looked at her. He reminded Dedra of one of the weeping angels some people chose to decorate graves with. Fallen, beautiful, sad... And marked with the toll of death. 

"You manipulated me, Dedra. I thought I was doing important work at eliminating dangerous rebels, but in the end it turned out I helped you prepare an elimination of innocent people who'd never held a gun." Syril looked her in the eyes and even though she hated to admit it, Dedra felt cold shivers running down along her spine. "Every time I look at you, I want to see the Dedra I fell in love with... And I do. Because it was me who was too blind to see the truth."

"What are you trying to say, Syril?" Dedra's blood pressure started to rise dangerously.

"I'm saying you are who you are."

What a smart way to describe her a wicked, cruel, evil and rotten to the core - at least from his point of view. 

At that moment both of them dropped their usual weapons and started screaming at each other. It was loud. Immature. Hateful even. It was full of deep suppressed blame and rage. It was out of their character, at least surely out of Dedra's character. Both of them fired at each other what they didn't want to say before. 

Syril once again listed all the reasons why he couldn't forget Dedra's part in Ghorman and what her actions caused to the Ghors - and how she made him her complice to pull the trigger. 

Dedra yelled at him back in defense what he forced her to do - lie for him, cover him and the fact he sympathized with the rebellion, she lost her position, the respect of most of her colleagues. Didn't he take enough from her? What more did Syril want? Her soul, if he thought she had one? 

They stopped once they were both too exhausted to continue, both of them crying. She stopped wiping her tears a long ago. Dedra felt dull pain inside her chest. Was this the over? After a month of dancing around and switching moods from love and tenderness to act like strangers and keeping distance? Did they finally reach the final stage? 

Would they bury their love, the years they spent together and carve their own memento mori on the tombstone? 

"I've gave you all my sacrifices," Dedra heard herself whisper with hoarse voice. Her throat felt dry from all the yelling; a reminder of her shame and loath for not keeping it together. "What more do you want, Syril?" 

He slowly blinked and let out a shaky sigh. His hand reached to Dedra. He caressed her cheek softly, too softly in comparison with the storm they unleased just a few minutes ago. 

"You. I've always only wanted you, Dedra." 

She remembered what he told her back on Ghorman before they left the planet. He told her he was a fool who never learns, he would fight and even die for her. It resonated within her with another thing Syril had told her years ago.

"I'd never lie to you."

And Dedra Meero, the woman who didn't believe in second chances, who was used to get rid of broken, non-working things because it proved to be more effective than trying to fix it, wiped her tears away. 

"Can we start again?"

The sky cleared after the storm.

So now, when Syril stopped treating her like a timed bomb - fragile and explosive -, Dedra didn't feel like she lost her worth when he sarcastically commented on something she would do.

Dedra looked down at her belly. "What do you think, should I go asleep?"

To Dedra's surprise, even though she was five months pregnant, she mostly looked just... Bloated. She expected to not fit in her clothes anymore, but even her ISB uniform still didn't feel that uncomfortable to wear. Without the belt and with a little more effort she still could button it up. The specialist Doctor Vier suggested to Dedra told her it was nothing unusual to be smaller, after all Dedra had always been thin. He helped her to put together a proper nutrition plan for her to keep her on healthy weight for both Dedra and the baby.

Which was much more pleasant to hear it put together like this than when Eedy Karn invited herself on a visit - primarily to tell off Syril for not bothering to call her that he was still alive. But she got bored of insulting her son as soon as Eedy spotted Dedra, that time two months pregnant, nibbing in her plate because she had zero appetite to eat anything.

"You are too skinny," Eedy started without considering if it might be a sensitive topic or not. "I've always thought that I would be asking Syril if you're not feeding him enough, but now I see that the question is if he isn't feeding YOU enough." 

Syril looked at her as if he considered if stabbing her with a fork would be too barbaric. 

"This is not appropriate, mother." There was noticeable warning in his voice, yet his mother chose to ignore it completely. 

"Is it not appropriate to be concerned?" Eedy huffed and reached her hand to Dedra and pinched Dedra's collar bone between her fingers. "I'm just stating facts - I could rip her in half like a snake because she is too thin." 

Dedra squeezed Syril's hand under the table as a form of communication to let him know she could handle this, even though the pinch crossed Dedra's boundaries with all the walls and fortresses around them as well. 

"I assure you I have a proper care from a professional, qualified specialist and I will rather trust his judgement and the years of experience he has." 

Eedy rolled her dark brown eyes. Her bright orange nails clapped on the desk of the table next to her plate.

"Oh, darling, I know these specialists... They're just trying to catch you in their web with smart words and fake smiles. But what is the 'experience' they really had that could compare to an experience of a mother?"

For one second Dedra and Syril exchanged uncomfortable, shocked stare in the dread that Eedy would now speak about all the bloody details of Syril's birth. 

"When I was young-"

"Yes mother, we know the 'When I was young' stories, but that was one century ago and Dedra needs to know what are her current possibilities," Syril interrupted her swiftly although his cheeks were still red from embarrassment. Dedra had to pretend to suddenly cough uncontrollably and covered her mouth with the palm of her hand to mask the need to laugh. 

Eedy stared at her son from under her long, black lashes and blinked in surprise. When she noticed Dedra fighting for keeping her professionalism together, she huffed and adjusted the top of her coat instead.

"As long as the baby is healthy to keep the great Karn bloodline, I will be satisfied."

Now, three months later, they decided they wanted to know the baby's gender. Perhaps that justified Dedra from losing focus - because for a few hours it wasn't just 'a baby' anymore, just an abstraction that surely felt real and yet somehow distant from them. 

A boy.

Dedra Meero was carrying a son. 

Syril's hand covering hers brought her back in reality. Once again, as if he could read her mind.

"Hearing you talk to him like this brings an important question..."

"Yes?"

"What do we name him?"

An important question for sure. Dedra did her research already, long before they had confirmed if they would have a daughter or a son. She considered many options and strategically sorted the one that seemed to be the best one.

"Cael," Dedra answered with as much certainty and confidence as she could. "I want Cael."

Cael was an ordinary name without a meaning or a symbolism. A perfect name with no expectations, just a choice to create his own path and give it the meaning himself.

And also because she simply liked the sound of that. 

"Cael..." Syril nodded, testing it for the first time. He didn't seem unhappy with that choice which Dedra considered as a good start. "Cael Karn. Sounds like a nice way to break one's tongue." 

The unwanted red light of sense of losing control lit up in Dedra's head. She straightened her back. 

"No need to worry about that." Her voice was sharp as if she was talking to someone in her work, someone who tried to feast on the fruit of Dedra's hard labour. "He will be Cael Meero, actually."

He would be a fool if he didn't figure out she was testing him. However Syril obviously had no desire to argue about her choice because he just nodded.

"Continuing on your bloodline, then?"

Bloodline... 

What a strange term. The Karn family surely liked using it, as if their heritage reached to the Emperor himself - at least Eedy Karn was proud enough to think of herself that way. Dedra knew better than that - she came from the blood of criminals and grew up suppressing it. It was the position that truly mattered.

And a good name. 

"As the one who suffers for nine months without the chance to take a break, I believe I have the right to pick our son's name."

Syril's fingers wrapped around Dedra's smaller hand.

"Of course you do, I just mean... My mother will be furious when she learns he is named after you and not me." Syril's lips widened in a mischievous smile. He didn't try to fight the laugh. "Dedra, you're a genius." She huffed. "I'm not doing it to anger your mother, Syril. At least it's not my first priority." 

Dedra rubbed her eyes and slowly stood up to finally move from the sofa in their bed. They both deserved the sleep and Dedra definitely planned to get as much as she could. She was aware of the desperate lack of it once Cael would be born, or at least of the very real threat of it. 

However if felt less scary now that she and Syril found the much needed balance in their relationship. They couldn't undo their mistakes and they couldn't rewrite the past. The curse named Ghorman had happened and it tested their limits to the point it almost seemed impossible to repair the damage. Many times Dedra wondered about the infinite "what if" scenarios and tried to come with solutions for situations that had never happened, before she finally realized the weight of it and how it dragged her to the ground. There was a reality to focus on - a reality already complicated enough.

Treasons and demotions and anger and grief and mothers-in-law. 

They survived. They fought. They healed. 

And now, they waited and lived. They loved.

Syril got up as well just to pull Dedra in a tight embrace from behind, wrapping his arms around her bump. 

Around their son.

"Considering the hard time he puts you through... He definitely is a Meero.”

Chapter Text

When Dedra's mornings during the first trimester regularly started with her curling on the bathroom floor and throwing up to the point she doubted her body could handle more, she really didn't understand how could somebody ever said it will be over with the blink of an eye. Quite the opposite - it felt painfully long, especially with the other 'side effects' she would rather forget - it didn't matter how many books about pregnancy tried to convinced her it was just natural, Dedra found it humiliating.

And yet now she walked through the cold hallways in the ISB building to take care of last few details she couldn't leave behind. It would make her brain itch to the point she wouldn't find the much needed and suggested relax. Dedra liked to keep her path clean and her work organized. It helped her to reduce the level of anxiety she felt about leaving, even if just temporarily - and also distract her from the inevitable reality of giving birth in the next few days. The date in her calendar was mercilessly coming closer and Cael requested Dedra's attention to remind her about himself as well. He found an entertainment in kicking Dedra during nighttime and it became his routine for the last few nights. 

Not that Dedra would let anyone know how exhausted she felt.

She kept her head high, her back straight, marching to her office with the same elegance and spark she used to create the illusion of a perfect officer, even though she longer fitted in her uniform. Dedra didn't pay attention to the curious looks of her colleagues and the prying eyes of people in general. She convinced herself months ago that they already knew about her current state, the news from Ghorman spread like a wildfire after all. And Dedra refused to hide from them only because it shattered their picture about her only being the cold and reserved Supervisor Meero who had nothing and was nothing beside her work. If Dedra had the chance, she would prefer to keep the illusion, however she wouldn't give anyone the satisfaction of giving them the chance to think she should stay forever on the position of Partagaz's assistant and that the motherhood would change her effectivity. 

Dedra stepped in the elevator and pushed the button in the floor where her office was. Taking the stairs wasn't really an option. Once the door closed, she leaned on the wall behind her and with letting out a long sigh Dedra caressed her belly. She almost started talking to it like she used to do when she was home and no one could hear her, but in the last second she managed to stay silent. 

This is the last time going inside without having you.

___________

Heert was already inside just like they agreed a few days before and his thin lips curled into a small yet honest smile the second he spotted Dedra walking in her office. 

"Supervisor Meero," he greeted her and put one of the boxes from the chair on the desk so Dedra could sit down. "Good to see you, Ma'am. I have everything prepared." Dedra sat on the chair, trying to make it look effortless and natural although her movements were everything but natural - she had to fit herself there with a surgical punctuality. She gave him a quick glance as she reached for the datapad in front of her. 

"Thank you for meeting me this fast. I'm aware of your own duties and that this is just an extra work for you, however-" 

"I don't mind," Heert interrupted her. "I hope I won't sound rude, but... I have more time than you do." His eyes clearly struggled to stay on Dedra's face instead of looking down as if he worried he might offend her. Dedra remembered one time when they stayed longer after working hours because she was trying to put together a presentation worth of showing Yularen, not that longer after she was hired by ISB. Heert got just signed as Dedra's attendant and in the beginning the tension between them caused discomfort on both sides - until Heert took enough courage to admit the last thing he would ever want to do was offend or anger her. And that honesty broke the ice and since then they were quite a good team. 

However some things clearly never changes.

"In that case," Dedra smirked as the memory was still playing in her mind, "I believe we shouldn't be wasting time and do the necessary." 

Heert nodded as an answer and opened the box on Dedra's desk. He put in everything he found about the Axis case what the other supervisors would find too vague for valuable clues and possible proof. It was Dedra's speciality to read in between the sentences and put together a bigger picture even from scratch. She didn't even realize how much she actually missed this - Ghorman was everything but a project she would willingly choose if she had the chance to pick. 

Dedra was a hunter. She followed tracks. She sensed blood. She predicted the next steps and worked with already known data to map the whole area to lure her prey into a trap. Everything Heert managed to collect for her reeked of the scent of resistance.

If only she had more time...

___________

It took them less time than Dedra predicted, which honestly was a surprise - even Cael behaved as if he decided to give Dedra one more precious moment to shine, even if behind closed door. However she didn't want to drain herself completely and when she started feeling tired, she decided to leave the rest for... Another time. 

"That will be all," Dedra informed Heert and shutted down the datapad. She leaned back in the chair to get some support for her spine. Back pains were one of the unpleasant effects of pregnancy and even though Dedra couldn't compare to other mothers who were much bigger than her, she still felt the weight affecting her. 

"I will finish the rest when you're off if you want - I mean, it's just about put it in graphs and you will be busy enough." 

She smirked at him weakly. There was something so amusing about watching Heert dancing around her so carefully as if Dedra would decapitated him just for mentioning the very obvious, and at this point so natural for Dedra. She gripped the edge of the durasteel desk to stand up.

"Just don't get too comfortable in my office, Heert. I plan to be back as soon as possible, hopefully after the six weeks if everything goes well." 

Syril actually came with the idea that he would stay home with Cael if Dedra preferred to return back to work - he knew it was almost impossible to hold her back not doing anything. A few months before Ghorman Dedra went to work even with high fever because she refused to stay in bed, sneeze, drink tea and watch holomovies. Syril's pleads and tries to be reasonable were ignored because she worked on saving her reputation after the Ferrix disaster and she refused to be seen as weak. It was Partagaz who gently reminded Dedra she could be accused of putting public safety in risk by spreading infection and diseases and discreetly ordered her a quarantine. However even home Dedra pried on the newest updates to stay in the picture. 

No one was surprised with her decision. 

Heert started sorting the evidences back in the box and from the expression on his face she saw he wanted to say something - perhaps something that shouldn't be heard by the ears of strangers. He took a step closer to Dedra and leaned discreetly to her.

"Honestly, I think they didn't treat you fairly, Supervisor. They tried to put you too low for stepping back from Ghorman and say you couldn't take it, but... Seeing you now, even disadvantaged - no offense - and how hard and well you work, it just doesn't feel fair. They shouldn't put you aside from all missions." 

This surprisingly warmed Dedra's heart. Krennic had tried to punish her diplomatically yet to his satisfaction even without demoting her. 

"ISB won't see you as a smart rebel spy, just as an emotional, hysterical woman who's brilliant mind sadly drowned in pregnancy hormones."

How many times did his sharp words appear on her mind? Even after months it still stung. Dedra tried so hard to prove him and everyone wrong, to not see her as 'hysterical woman' and to convince them about being still perfectly capable of taking her job seriously even if the probably most important mission in her whole career turned into disaster. And apparently her resilience brought the wanted results, because it wasn't just Lonni - a new parent himself - who admired her.

"I thought you might appreciate that someone doesn't think this is a burden - that you are a burden."

Oh, she did. 

Dedra returned Heert a small, honest smile, however she chose to not give him the real answer - Attendand Heert might be a good coworker and she found it easy to keep a light small talk about different topics from work, but Dedra was still careful about letting people in her private life. 

"I believe that Director Krennic did what he thought would be the best for me," Dedra responded although she knew it was a lie. "And it would inevitably happened anyway - after some time the work outside administration would be physically challenging, perhaps even impossible. This way I didn't need to test my limits and still be effective." 

Dedra hoped this would finally close the Ghorman chapter for good. From disfavor about the nature of the project it became literal hell for her and it didn't stop taking from her. She wanted to seal it and bury forever with everything it brought her and how it affected not only her career, but her relationship with Syril. At this point she made peace with the thought that she could wipe the planet from his heart but not from the back of his mind where it stayed locked, destined to fade like morning haze. 

Ghorman deserved to die in silence with all its ghosts and nightmares and tales of good and evil.

She took a deep breath and finally let go of the desk. She reached her hand to Heert.

"Thank you for everything and see you in six weeks."

He shook Dedra's hand with the usual small smile she knew from their long sessions when they restlessly worked together. 

"You know where to find me when you return."

For a second Dedra considered adding something more even though she wasn't sure what she wanted to say, however Cael's kick brought her back to reality.

There was a new chapter of her life waiting for her. 

___________

"Do you really have everything?"

Syril hovered over Dedra's briefcase with things she needed to take in the hospital, his fingers twitching nervously to with the urge to open the zipper and go through it himself just to make sure. 

"I already told you I did - for three times now." 

Dedra stood next to the pastel green crib she agreed to buy from Lonni Jung and his wife with all the others necessities for the baby that could be safely used again. She refused to simply accept it for nothing - it was enough that Dedra secretly had a mental breakdown because she and Syril didn't think about purchasing things for their child themselves as they were too busy swinging moods, arguing and not talking to each other. This way it felt like they were responsible and just accepted the offer that in the end was more comfortable for them instead of running through multiple different stores and pick what they would like. Not that they wouldn't purchase anything at all, Dedra refused to be that comfortable. 

And careless.

Luckily for them, it seemed that the Jungs weren't exactly fans of vivid and stark colors and they chose to keep it all in gentle shades of pastel green, blue and lilac. In their white and grey apartment it surely dragged attention, however it still felt very tame. She even found herself smiling sometimes when her eyes wandered to the crib and the equipment around it. 

Her fingers ran along the edge of the crib and she slowly turned at Syril. Dedra smirked. Her contractions didn't even start - she actually planned to be taken to hospitalization a few days before the due date because she refused to wait until she would be in pain, but Syril was already nervous as if it was him who would be giving birth and go through it all. Dedra couldn't be more grateful for the decision to rather wait under a medical supervision than think of Syril bringing her in the hospital in his arms and almost losing his sanity from panicking like in the endless and cell brains weakening holotelenovelas Eedy Karn liked to watch. 

Dedra couldn't decide what would be worse - the pain or the embarrassment? 

Of course she needed to have the situation under control, or at least partly under control. She would be suffering enough and the last thing she needed was feeling uncomfortable.

"Alright, alright," Syril nodded and finally looked at her. "But what about-"

"I have everything," Dedra assured him again. She approached him from Cael's future bedroom , her hands safely placed around her belly. It was strange to think in a few days she wouldn't have her bump anymore - Dedra grew strangely used to it, even though it was hardly comfortable. 

No, she surely wouldn't miss looking like a barrel of bacta.

She stroked Syril's arm gently with her thumb. He leaned down to kiss her, first on her forehead and then on the lips. He couldn't really effectively hug her, but he tried anyway as if he needed to enjoy the moment before their speeder would arrive to take them in the facility. 

"I was thinking," Dedra started carefully, darting her eyes at Syril. "Of course we will see how we will be doing in the six weeks postpartum, but maybe for at least the first six months we could take turns at staying home with Cael? One week you and the other me?" 

On her way from her office Dedra ran into Partagaz. She didn't expect to meet him today, however she quickly snapped from her surprised expression and greeted him. "Sir."

"Dedra," he greeted her back although it sounded more like a question. "Shouldn't you be working from home?" Dedra managed to smirk lightly. "I needed to adjust a few details - personally." I wouldn't be able to stop thinking about it while I'm gone."

Partagaz huffed. "Your loyalty is admirable, but you should sometimes uses your common sense and instead of chasing success also think of yourself and your family. You need to learn to separate it, Lieutenant." 

Dedra didn't expect Partagaz to be so direct. To this moment Dedra simply thought that Major Partagaz didn't have any family - and except Lonni none of the supervisors. Or more probably they were just good at keeping their personal life outside of their work and didn't mix it. Dedra struggled with it because even with Syril she sometimes couldn't put Supervisor Meero aside and be just Dedra. 

Supervisor Meero was strict, effective, hard working and ambitious - she was a good officer. But she shouldn't be the one loving Syril and raising a child. 

"I know you are eager to return back to what you know, what is your strength and what you'd already achieved," Partagaz continued. "However I would be glad if you considered this option: after the postpartum period you will return to work every second week. This way you will have a balance between being a mother and spending time with your child, and not falling out of the system and your routine." 

That didn't sound like a bad idea. Not at all. Dedra didn't make it obvious, however there was a part of her that wasn't sure if she trusted Syril to handle a newbow on his own. He was excited about becoming a father and Dedra didn't doubt his enthusiasm to do his best, but she felt the seed of anxiety and unknown fear to start growing roots in her heart. 

As if Partagaz knew what she was just thinking about, he continued.

"And as I said, you're not the first of our female officers in such situation. Some of them tried to return as soon as they could and in the end they sat there, nervous and worried and with their minds focused on their children. We need you focused, Dedra. I believe a healthy balance is the key." 

She answered in her typical "I will think about it properly before I give you my final answer" way, however she was almost decided to accept it. With this option she wouldn't have to choose between Cael and her career. 

And she wasn't willing to risk that with her absence Syril might ask his mother for an advice and before he could stop it, t would be Eedy Karn raising their son instead of Dedra. 

"Take good care of yourself, Dedra and send a request if you decide to accept it."

Syril's blue eyes widened in surprise at the question, but he didn't think twice before he nodded. "I would like that, Dedra. I would really like that." Dedra tilted her head and put her hand on Syril's chest. "Good. That is settled, then." 

The comlink in Syril's pocket beeped - their shuttle was waiting for them. He took the briefcase with Dedra's belongings in one hand and Dedra's smaller palm in the other. His thin lips parted for one more time, but Dedra's warning glance about not asking for fourth time if she didn't forget anything important silenced him. 

They walked out of their apartment, the door locking automatically behind them. Dedra didn't look back. She didn't want to be sentimental about the fact there would be three of them returning back instead of being just a couple of two unperfected adults connected with the same obsession for order and for each other. 

But if Dedra had to be sentimental, just like Syril had been months ago with his poetic memento mori for the dead Ghors, she would put it all in lyrics of a certain song she learned to think of as hers and Syril's. 

Let it all burn down around us,

Let the cruel consume the just,

Let the sin we swim in drown us,

Let the world shatter into dust.

Nothing else matters.

Only us.