𝐂𝐑𝐈𝐌𝐒𝐎𝐍 𝐒𝐓𝐀𝐓𝐈𝐎𝐍 - 𝐜𝐚𝐥 𝐤𝐞𝐬𝐭𝐢𝐬

𝐓𝐖𝐄𝐍𝐓𝐘-𝐓𝐇𝐑𝐄𝐄 ⸺ 𝐢𝐧𝐟𝐢𝐥𝐭𝐫𝐚𝐭𝐢𝐨𝐧.

1134 local hours. Year 7963 (14 BBY)
Royal Palace of Aldera, Alderaan.

⸺ VÆMAS.

⚡︎ ⁺.  ◍ 。

𝓔VEN THOUGH THE gardens were mesmerizing, Væmas' attention was solely focused on the Imperial Complex facing them, a few feet away.

"Security is thick." Cal commented as they were advancing in the alleys in a measured pace, aware of being watched from the palace.

"It won't be as much tonight." She assured him, studying the building with a side eye not to raise suspicions. "Most of the troopers will accompany the officer to the meeting. We'll just have to find a side ent..."

Cal interrupted her with a poke in the side, indicating a servant girl who approached them with a curtsy before handing a note to Cal and leaving without another word.

Cal looked at the note, then at Væmas, before opening it.

"Dear friends,
I regret to inform you that I will not be able to attend diner with you tonight. The meeting that I told you about was advanced at 0700. You have, again, my deepest excuses.
Sincerely,
Senator Organa."

"The meeting is at sunset then." Væmas repeated. "It's earlier than expected."

Cal raised a shoulder, his eyes focused on the Imperial complex. "At least we'll have to wait less." He squinted his eyes, slowing down the pace before looking away. "Wait. I got it. Don't look."

He led her away from the building so that only their back would be presented to the troopers posted at the palace entrance and watching them. "On the side of the Palace, there is a grid, probably another ventilation system. We can climb onto that and drop directly on the roof of the Imperial complex."

"Those types of complexes must have a ventilation system as well." Væmas guessed after a few seconds. "They will probably be a hatch on the roof."

"We got our way in."

On their way back to the castle, Væmas' arm under Cal's as they were still expected to behave as a couple, she realized that none of them had talked about the night before.

She opened her mouth, and then closed it, first because she was not even sure what to say, and second because it was neither the place nor the time. She did her best to act natural when they walked pass the stormtroopers guarding the entrance of the palace, even though they did not even look at them, trying to find a way to engage the conversation about the night before. As the thought of how they ended up, she felt a flush creeping on her cheeks and pinched her lips.

"You're okay?" Cal asked, making her flinch slightly.

"Hm? Yeah, yeah, it's just the...the cold."

The cold. That's the best you could do.

Cal raised an eyebrow in a half-skeptic, half amused look, but did not inquire further.

As they were going back to their quarters to study the ventilation plans and find a way to the grid they saw on the palace wall, Væmas suddenly fell a pull on the bottom of her dress. When she looked down, stopping, her eyebrows raised: a little girl, who could not be older than five or six years old, was hanging on her skirt and looking up at her with intense brown eyes, wearing a small white dress, her dark hair up in two large buns on the side of her head.

Væmas kneeled, intrigued to see a child this young by herself in the palace. As soon as she got to the young girl's eye level, it struck her. This child was Force-sensitive.