With their course now set to Savareen, Cere quickly returns to interrogating PT-152 about her past and her intentions. Merrin watches as Cal tries to turn the conversation back to the leads but Cere will not be dissuaded and it bothers her. Everyone aboard The Mantis has a difficult past. Cere, as much as any of them, should know how painful it is to talk about but her suspicion was getting the better of her. The hostility is palpable and Merrin can see how difficult it was for PT-152 to answer. Finally, she could tolerate it anymore and decided to speak up.
"That armor looks uncomfortable," she says to PT-152. The change in subject was like whiplash to the others but it achieved the desired effect; an end to the relentless questioning.
"What?" PT-152 asks a bit confused then answers, "Oh, I'm used to it.".
"Would you like to get out of it?" Merrin asks.
PT-152 pauses for a moment then asks slyly, "Are you flirting with me?" Cal could not help but laugh because the response felt so out of place in the tense room. So far, this woman has been cold and rigid, nearly robotic. This first glimpse of an actual person beneath the armor gave him hope.
"Not at the moment," Merrin plays back suggestively. "Come, I will show you where you can change." she says and leads the way to an open doorway on the right side of the galley that leads to the back of the ship. They step through and take a sharp turn left. Merrin points at a door directly ahead of them. "That is the refresher and beside it is my room that I share with Cere." From outside this door PT-152 can see straight through to the engine at the back of the next compartment. "This is the Captain's quarters," Merrin continues, gesturing to a large room directly across from her's, "Cal sleeps in the back."
"Small ship."
"Yes, it is not designed for a large crew but we will find a place for you." Merrin turns away from Greez's quarters and presses a button to open the door to her cabin. PT-152 peers in to see a small but comfortable cabin with two bunk beds recessed into the far wall.
Merrin gestures into the room, "Take your time. Join us when you are ready."
PT-152 stands there in the cabin, alone for the first time since defecting and in the quiet unexpected waves of emotions suddenly pass over her. First, the feeling of joy and freedom of being out from under the control of the Empire; then the satisfaction that she had actually succeeded in her goal and found a Jedi; but it is all quickly replaced by fear as the realization that she had actually defected sank in. It had all happened so fast yet it feels like ages have passed since she saw Cal step out onto that walkway. She had worked so long and so hard to finally be here but now there is no turning back; she has no idea where the path ahead will lead.
Just as the emotions are about to overwhelm her, she pauses and takes a deep breath then releases it slowly. Her thoughts relax and she stands unmoved in the quiet cabin for a moment, listening to the soft hum of the engine. Then she begins to remove her armor and as she sets each piece deliberately on the bed, she considers all those emotions and what they mean.
She places the helmet on the bed. Yes, she has defected. No matter how surreal it may feel there is no turning back. Her only choice now is to move forward.
Next, she removes the red pauldron from her shoulder and kama from her waist, the fabric adornments that indicate her station as a Purge Trooper Commander. She places them on the bed next to the helmet with a slight feeling of dread. Eventually she will have to face repercussions of the actions she took, the choices she made that allowed her to attain this rank. How many others paid the price for her achievements? How many enemies did she make along the way?
She removes the armor from her shoulders, arms, and hands and places them on the bed and the image of the Jedi's hand grasping his lightsaber flashes through her mind making her feel hopeful. There had been so many times she thought she would never actually encounter a Jedi. So many times she had nearly given up hope but it had finally happened. She is here. He is here. She can finally get the answers to her questions. What is this power she has, the Force? What is a Jedi beyond the rumors? Who's voice had she heard the first time she experienced the Force?
As she removes the chest and back pieces, she feels the weight of her conscription lifted as well. She is no longer bound to the Empire but free to make a new future for herself. She places them on the bed next to the others.
Finally, she removes the armor from her hips and legs and as she places them next to the rest. She stands there a moment feeling exposed without the armor and is overcome with doubt. She may have left the Empire but is it possible to ever fully rid herself of what they imprinted on her?
Wearing only the black body glove, she looks over all the pieces laid out neatly on the bed and feels a rush of determination. She WILL make her own future. The Empire has taken enough from her.
After leaving PT-152 in her cabin to change, Merrin returned to the common area to find Cal and Cere deep in discussion.
"I don't know if this is a good idea," says Cere.
"I thought you would jump at the opportunity to find more Jedi."
"I want to, but something about it sounds too good to be true. By doing this, would we be helping her expose them? Or maybe we're walking into a trap?"
"In the mines she guided us past larger groups of stormtroopers, used her codes to get us through doors BD and I couldn't open. She had more than a few chances to take a swing at me but didn't. If it is a trap, what's the point in dragging us around the galaxy?"
Cere shakes her head, unconvinced.
"On top of that," Cal continues, "I just don't sense that she's hiding anything."
"Neither do I," adds Merrin as she returns to the others, "but we should remain cautious. She will have to earn our trust."
"Okay," says Cere, "I'm trusting you Cal."
"I know," Cal says sincerely.
So, what did you find in the mines?" Cere asks, changing the subject.
"Nothing," he answers, with a shrug and takes a seat on one of the curved benches that form semicircles against the hull on either side of the holotable. "They are definitely mining exonium but it's not the large-scale effort we were led to believe and there was no sign of any refinery."
"Was there any indication of what they are using the exonium for?"
"No."
"The informer said this was a massive operation," says Merrin. "How could it be so wrong?"
"I don't think it was wrong exactly. I think it was just a trap," Cal answers. "On my way down into the mine, there were very few people and no stormtroopers at all but on the way back out they were coming out of the woodwork."
"The troopers were stationed strategically," PT-152's voice interjects from the far end of the room and they all turn walking through the galley back to them. Without the armor she looks much smaller than any of them expected but somehow the combination of the body glove and boots, which emphasized the lean musculature she developed through years of intense training, and her short black hair pulled back tightly, in strict adherence to uniform regulations, made her seem almost more severe now than with the armor on.
"They were laid out in such a way," she continues, walking across the common area to join them near the holotable, "to allow you to get deep into the mine with ease but then make it nearly impossible to get back out again. A typical team of rebels would not have survived but they were hoping to draw you out specifically," she says pointing at Cal, "So..."
"So they sent you," Cere interjects.
"Yes," PT-152 confirms, throwing Cere a look of growing impatience.
"We have been targeting fuel depots more frequently lately," says Merrin. "All Imperial Intelligence had to do was carefully select where they spread rumors of a new depot in order to draw us in."
"On the bright side," says Cal, "there's no new fuel depot. However..."
"We're becoming predictable to the Empire," says Cere. "We need to change our strategy."
"It is a good thing we have these leads then," says Merrin nodding toward PT-152.
Just then, Greez's voice crackles over the internal comms, "We're coming up on Savareen. Preparing to drop out of hyperspace." The announcement cuts the conversation short as the crew prepares for landing.
"We could have picked a more welcoming place to make port," grumbles Greez from the pilot's chair as he brings the Mantis in for a landing. Spaceport? He thinks to himself, if you could call it that. Probably doesn't even have a decent cantina.
From what he could see during their approach, the town is set unnaturally in the middle of an open stretch of rock and sand. It is made up of little more than a few intersecting main streets lined with stone or clay buildings surrounded by an array of shabby structures and tents where most of the people probably live. The "spaceport" itself was a wide expanse of flat, smooth stone with faint remnants of designation lines. Most of the paint had long since been worn away by sandstorms. It was a most unwelcoming place. On the bright side, the landing pad was quite full, especially for such a small spaceport. This was a good thing because it allowed them the chance to simply disappear into the hustle and bustle around them. A single ship sitting alone is more likely to draw prying eyes than just another ship in a sea of ships. Greez sat the Mantis down in an open space in the middle of the busiest part of the landing pad with barely a shudder.
"Nice landing, Greez," Cal says as Greez steps into the common.
"Thank you. Anything else you need me to get from the market while I'm there?" Greez asks.
"Yes," says Cere and points to PT-152, "This one could use some work."
"What?" PT-152 asks.
"You look a bit conspicuous," says Cal with a shrug and she looks down at herself.
"Go with Greez and pick up some clothes that will be a little less...noticeable," Cere tells her.
"What's wrong?" Cal asks, noticing PT-152's eyes widen.
"The Empire always issued me supplies, uniforms, disguises. I...I haven't been to a market," she explains awkwardly.
"You don't know how to go shopping?" asks Greez with disbelief.
"Anything I needed I requisitioned. I had nothing outside of the Empire so the only credits they ever gave me were for fuel."
Cere sighs heavily, "I'll show you."
"Actually, Cere, can you hang back?" asks Cal, "I need to talk to you about something."
"I'll help you," says Merrin.
"First you want to get me out of my armor; now you want to buy me clothes?" PT-152 asks Merrin with a sideways glance. "What game are you playing?"
"It is all a part of my master plan," Merrin answers as they follow Greez off the ship.
"Why do I have the feeling I'm going to end up dressed like you?" she asks, to which Merrin replies with only a laugh. Greez rolls his eyes and wonders if he will have to listen to this the entire way to the market.
Cal smiles as he watches them go. "Well, they seem to be getting along at least," he says, turning back to Cere now that they are alone on the ship.
"Yes they do," she says with a clearly suspicious tone.
"Which brings me to what I want to talk to you about. Why are you being so hostile towards her?" asks Cal.
"I'm not hostile, I'm cautious," she corrects him.
"You're relentless," he pushes back.
She sighs and shakes her head.
"How can we trust her? She made a career of serving the Empire, spent years training with the Inquisitors, learning how to kill Jedi, to kill you!"
"I am suspicious too but I haven't felt anything from her that makes me think she would try to hurt any of us."
Cere sighs and turns away, her hands on her hips.
"Do you intend to train her as a Jedi?" she asks him.
"I don't know yet." he says, taking a seat on the edge of one of the benches and crossing his arms, "The thought crossed my mind but she only just got here. I haven't had time to really consider it"
"I think it would be a mistake."
"Why?"
"They may not have been training her to use the force but she's been steeped in the Dark Side for years. How much of the Inquisitors' teachings were ingrained in her without her even knowing? She said it herself that she would be able to sense Vader's presence if he was so much as in the vicinity of that planet. She's more attuned than she thinks. She could fall to the Dark Side the moment she opens up to the Force."
Cal looks down at the bench he's sitting on and thinks back on when he first joined the crew of the Mantis and how Greez had been upset that BD-1 might get oil stains on the fabric. Things just keep getting more complicated every day.
"I know what it's like to be pulled by the Dark Side," Cere implores. "I was trained to resist it but even I failed. All she has ever known is the Dark Side. There may not be hope for her."
"You're right," Cal says, nodding his head. "You understand better than anyone what she's up against so maybe this is exactly where she's meant to be. Doesn't everyone deserve a chance?"
Cere crosses her arms and sighs.