“Senator,” Lieutenant Patar said, crisp, voice low and serious like she wanted to seem older than her twenty years of age suggested naturally. Or perhaps that was merely Mon Mothma projecting. Everyone these days seemed young to her. “Priority message for you from Alderaan.”
“Alderaan?” she asked. But Senator Organa was here already. Who would want… oh. Turning away, she fought and failed to stop her cheeks from warming. She could only hope the weakness of the lights strung above their heads hid the most damning evidence of this… breach of protocol. “Yes, of course, Lieutenant. I understand.”
Patar bobbed her head and folded her hands behind her back. “The call’s been patched through to your private comm channel, ma’am.” The absence of judgment only put Mon Mothma more on edge; it had been many years since she’d felt like a schoolgirl who’d been caught raising mischief. She found she didn’t like feeling it any better now than when she’d been in primary school.
“Thank you,” Mon Mothma said, glancing around the command center. Not a single person paid her any mind. Too busy dashing off reports or monitoring comm traffic or planning strikes to notice her, they went about their business while all thought of Mon Mothma completing her own ground to a halt.
This was a chance; it might be the only one given to her. And though she knew she ought to have told Patar to politely, yet firmly, inform her caller to that this was inappropriate, she couldn’t do it. Not this time. “Tell him I’ll be right there.”
*
Even though she was safely ensconced in her own quarters now, sitting at the desk she’d dragged all the way from Corus—Imperial Center—her nerves still raced, adrenaline pulsing throughout her body. He shouldn’t have called. People would find out, the wrong people. Harm would come to him. Harm would come to the Rebellion.
They could get caught. Perhaps they already had. And then what would Mon Mothma do? This was her life. What she shared with the man at the other end of the comm, it came second. It had always had to come second. And yet…
She accepted the call, placed a tracer and a scrambler just in case. “Bail Antilles,” she said, keeping her voice even and light. It was a variation on the voice she used in the Imperial Senate Chambers when one of her more… patriotic colleagues got to talking. “What a surprise it is to hear from you.”
She hadn’t seen him in over a year now. The blue shade of the holotransmission obscured so much—had the silver in his hair had begun to outmatch the sand? Did the lines around his eyes crinkle any deeper when he grinned?—but he was as handsome as ever. And when his mouth quirked in a playful, knowing smile, she couldn’t regret that he’d taken this risk.
“Senator Mon Mothma,” he replied and not even the lightyears between them, the hundreds of relay stations and encryption protocols, could strip the warmth from his voice. “What a surprise it is that you’ve accepted my call.”
Mon Mothma looked down, stifling the urge to smile in return. It wouldn’t do to encourage him. “You’ve caught me in a surprising mood. What can I do for you?”
His eyes caught a glint of light that became a bright, distracting speck on Mon Mothma’s end. Then he blinked and it was gone, his eyes lowering as he tilted his head down slightly. “I’ve missed you,” he said, startling Mon Mothma with the simplicity of his statement. He usually couched his words in layers to avoid pinning himself down to a stance before he was ready. This was unusual. “You haven’t sent word with Senator Organa in some time. I thought—”
A whipvine of guilt climbed her throat and threatened to strangle her. “It’s been…” But there were no words, no excuses. In this time of uncertainty, she’d made a choice. It had been easier than sharing her feelings when she knew that one day she might not come back to him.
“I know,” he answered, so earnest and well-meaning that her eyes threatened to sting. He always had trusted her to act with the greatest degree of sincerity and trust. “I know. I just wanted to hear your voice again.” His eyes flicked to something off-screen. “And I know we can’t stay on the line long, but—”
“Come to Imperial Center,” she said, her mouth working faster than her mind, but though she hadn’t intended to say it, she didn’t take it back either. “The Senate will be in session soon. I’ll be going back to prepare shortly.” Why didn’t I ask you sooner, she thought. Why did I ask you at all?
“I—are you sure?” His tone was strained, but there was hope there, too, and that’s how Mon Mothma knew it was the right decision to make.
“Yes,” she said, allowing the touch of a smile to form on her face. “Yes, I’m definitely sure.”
The Rebellion was her life. This fight was her life.
But it didn’t have to be the whole of it.