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For a few seconds, Hera had been sure the shouting and blasterfire they had heard echoing through the base were her crew trying to find her. Reckless, single-minded, fighting their way through these unfamiliar beings. The girls had held close to her, asking what was happening, and Hera hadn't dared answer. But then as the blastefire died down, as the voices grew quieter, she heard something else. Smooth, steady paces, the tap of boots. It was just before the cell door opened that Hera knew what was going to be on the other side of it.

And there was no escape. Three Stormtoopers stepped into the cell at once, moving to surround Hera and the two Chiss girls. The girls didn't keep asking questions, though they followed the Troopers with their eyes, and huddled behind Hera, trying to use her as a shield. The troopers were followed by an officer. Hera kept her eyes on the floor at first, but she looked up in surprise as the officer knelt down, and slowly approached her and the girls.

Hera realized then that the Empire knew what they'd find here. Or at least, they'd known part of it. When the girl closest to the officer flinched back, burying her face in Hera's shoulder, the officer looked at her.

"Who are you?"

She was wearing a rough-woven skirt and tunic, boots and a simple cap. Yet for a few seconds, Hera had forgotten that she might look different. That more likely than not, the Imps weren't going to recognize her. She closed her eyes, and took a moment to be grateful that the officer had spoken first. And then, to come up with a story.

A name. Nyn. A story. Captured by pirates, who traveled out into the far reaches, bordering the Unknown Regions, and sold her to these beings – the Grysk, the Imperials called them – who used her to watch over their stolen children. She used her Ryloth accent, spoke in halting sentences, kept her eyes on the floor, only stealing quick, frightened glances at her questioner. The girls wouldn't leave her, so the Imps had taken them all together, first into a shuttle from which Hera and the girls watched as it flew up into a Star Destroyer, then within that, an empty room that looked like it might be used as low-ranking officers' quarters. That surprised her, as did the fact that they brought water for her and the girls to drink, and even a few protein bars.

But whatever the Empire wants with these girls, she can't imagine it's anything better than the Grysk did. Sooner or later, she'll have to act. Even as she's far from her crew, with two children to take with her, and no hope of fighting an entire Star Destroyer alone.

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No one wants Thrawn's loyalty to break quite yet, but it's possible that time is coming.

"It's a way in for the Emperor," Thrawn says, voice gone mild again.

"You are aware, I believe, that he excels at exploiting those."

"I've seen the Empire rip babies from their parents' arms."

That's what she knows.

"Doubtless you will again. So, too, shall I."

That mildness remains, though a faint edge creeps in.

"As will these girls. But not, I think, quite yet."

Again, Hera looks down at the girls.

And she knows, really, that she has no choice. If it is a trap, she could get them out, get them to safety first, and then check herself for any kind of trackers or tracers later. She'd have to try to think ahead of him - because the only other option, it seems, is being revealed as a rebel, and the girls being handed to the Empire.

She closes her eyes, and switches back to Meese Cauf. "What do we have to do?"

Thrawn, too, returns to speaking in Meese Cauf.

He also, for the briefest of moments, smiles when he looks at the two Chiss girls. Then that smile falls away, and --

"We are fortunate, perhaps, that I am well aware of today's patrol schedule. And, as it happens, I was also able to procure a particular piece of technology from an associate of mine."

The girls hesitate, but do smile back briefly in return. Hera does not.

"A blaster?" she asks, in Basic.

"A cloaking device," Thrawn says, in Meese Cauf. "For you or the girls, whichever you think best."

It's not as if he can accompany them the entire way to one of the shuttles. Or an escape pod.

The girls look from him to Hera, half-seeming like they want to ask if they can have the cloaking device. Particularly the younger girl.

Thrawn, meanwhile, raises one eyebrow at Hera, switching back to Basic.

"Are you demanding a blaster?"

"I can't promise I won't need one."

She looks back down to the girls, and with another switch, "What do you think?"

They look at each other, perhaps surprised to be asked, and now not sure what to say.

"I want to go home," says the younger.

Edited 2019-03-28 01:53 (UTC)

"You will most assuredly get there," Thrawn assures the youngest girl, though his gaze is fixed on the older one. For this, at least, he speaks in Sy Bisti.

Then, back to Basic --

"Fair enough. Though I would prefer you not try to shoot me with it. Nor the Lord Vader, not least because if we draw his attention we will have failed in this entire enterprise."

As he speaks he removes his backup blaster from a hidden holster where his belt meets his jacket, holding it out toward Hera. It is roughly the same size and shape as her own usual blaster, which is purely a matter of coincidence.

"If this will do."

Hera just looks at the blaster, for a few seconds, then slowly reaches out to take it.

The girls watch this with widened eyes, though they relax slightly as she slides it into a holster woven into her skirt. Where her own blaster had been, before being taken by the Grysks.

"So if we get off this ship," she says, now back in Meese Cauf. "Where do we go?"

Or really, where do I take them?

"Back to Batuu. There's a Chiss Defense Fleet presence there, and once they know you've got the girls with you, they'll have no issue making contact. Provided you're clear that you're giving them back, the transition should go smoothly."

Knowing Captain Syndulla is unlikely to deal the trading of other being is . . . oddly enough a comfort in this situation. How strange.

"The Empire will be focused . . . elsewhere for quite some time, I imagine."

Hera wonders, briefly, if he's trying to distract her from some Imperial operation against the Rebellion. But even if that were true, there was nothing she could do about it from here. Using his means for her escape was the only option.

So she answers, "If you can get me to a ship, I can get them there."

Thrawn smiles thinly.

"I had very little doubt,"

And then, switching back into Sy Bisti --

"The Captain is a very accomplished pilot. When you run from here, rest assured you will be safe in her hands."

The two little girls look up at him solemnly, reaching out to hold each other's hand tightly.

"She's nice," the smaller one agrees, also in Sy Bisti, while the older one sneaks a sideways look at Hera, nodding once. She doesn't smile.

And back in Meese Cauf again --

"Shall we go, then? There will be an minor readiness drill called in two minutes, which should clear some of the appropriate corridors."

Hera gets to her feet, looking down to the girls as she does.

"Do you have the cloaking device with you?"

Thrawn is fortunate that Rukh is prone to obey his commands, even when they are phrased as requests.

"Of course," he says dryly, unclipping a small, unprepossessing square of metal from his belt.

"Shall I explain how to work this?"

Hera, now, speaks to the girls, lightly touching the older one's shoulder. "Do you need him to explain?"

The girl looks to the square of metal, her eyes lingering on it for a moment, but -

"Yes, please."

Thrawn beckons them both forward, dropping to an easy crouch, seemingly careless of Hera's presence.

(He trusts, for the moment, that she will not ruin the chance of escape for these children. Another time, another place, even later today . . . no.)

"It is very simple," he says, in Meese Cauf. "Press this button once to turn it on, twice to turn it off. It recharges itself slowly, so you must use it only when it is necessary. When you think you will be seen, or when I or the Captain tell you to."

He looks up at Syndulla, then.

"Understood?"

The girls both nod, standing tight together, and the older girl reaches out her hand to take the device. Thrawn lets it go, if slowly.

Then --

"Shall we?"

The younger girl holds to the older, but with her other hand, she reaches for Hera. Hera takes the girl's hand gently into her own - the girl clings to her tightly.

"Coth'eraw'rema," Hera says, softly. She clearly, and entirely, enunciates each of the girls' names. "Suc'asaw'earmemm."

"Hera," the girls answer together.

She looks up to Thrawn, and nods.

"Mitth'raw'nuruodo," Thrawn says, gesturing toward himself. It might help the girls to know, later, when they are debriefed in the Ascendancy.

(And it may help Thrawn, too. Eventually.)

"I shall lead the way. Captain, should you prefer to move at my left hand, or my right?"

As Suc'asaw'earmemm is holding her left hand, she answers, "Left."

Then, in Basic, she asks, "Is there a way I should act?"

Thrawn taps his lips with one finger for a moment, red eyes fixed on Hera's face.

"Cowed, if you can. And if not, at least subdued. Imagine you were a prisoner who feared her only hope of life was to provide any aid and information requested of you, and, indeed, more you could think of that we did not ask. At least for the first leg of this journey, while some eyes may be upon us."

With that said, he turns, gesturing the girls to come up behind him, and moves as if to open the door.

Edited 2019-04-04 01:52 (UTC)

"I'll figure it out."

The girls obey Thrawn's gesture, the younger pulling Hera along with her.

"I have no doubt."

And then Thrawn steps smoothly out the door, looking neither to the left nor to the right even as he notices the corridor is, as he predicted, currently empty. A slight jerk of the head is the only motion he gives to indicate that the girls and Hera should move forward.

Now, if the patrol schedule is as he arranged it, and no one has chosen to be derelict in their duties -- the most unobserved path to the shuttle bay is to the right, down a long, quiet corridor that contains several storage bays.

"Quickly, now," he says, keeping his pace brisk.

The girls nearly have to jog to keep up, but they manage to do so with soft footfalls that barely sound in the long hallways. Hera walks with her head down, her palms folded together over the younger girl's hand.

Her eyes flicker up to watch for Thrawn's signals.

And, when she can manage it, to get a look around the ship. She can't quite deny herself, it's not an opportunity she'll get often.

Edited 2019-04-04 03:12 (UTC)

The first leg of this trip is not particularly interesting, layout-wise, though were someone looking for good places to hide on a ship such as this, there are certainly a great many long-term storage bays that rarely see use lining the corridor. That may be something.

Thrawn, meanwhile, moves through the ship with careless-seeming ease, posture upright, hands held clearly visible at his sides. So it is that when they first hear several scattered footsteps moving toward him, he can make a quick, brutally simple horizontal slash of his hand without even needing to hiss between his teeth.

Hopefully a sideways glance at Syndulla as he moves a brisk two paces forward will convey that it is time for the girls to hide, now. He'll speak, if necessary, but avoiding it will be a great deal simpler. Thrawn is not, on the whole, the sort of man that mutters to himself when alone.