Saga - Legends The Dawn of Defection (Post ROTS, OCs) Completed 1/21

Title: The Dawn of Defection
Characters: Galen Wentlas, Emperor Palpatine, Darth Vader
Timeframe: Weeks after Revenge of the Sith

***

Part One

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Coruscant: 14 Days after the Declaration of a New Order

The Lekine Estate on Coruscant was quiet as Galen walked through the opulent halls. He had been young when he first arrived here, his stepfather's paycheck combined with the pension his mother received from his deceased father combined to grant the family two of some of the finest mid-level floors in the Political District.

Coruscant bustled outside of the large window in the open hall, airspeeders racing around the skylanes. The district had been barely touched compared to others during the fighting just weeks previously. The scars of what had reached the area remained: a downed droid fighter still remained in the gaping hole of a cloudcutter where it had met its end while the fallen atmospheric vane from a Victory-class Star Destroyer was being poached on by some troublesome squibs that had been denied salvage rights above the planet. The short, blue-furred creatures were arguing amongst themselves now, bringing a slight chuckle to Galen's throat.

He continued on his way, civilian boots upon the blue carpet, until he reached his stepfather's office. He pressed the "admittance" button on the console and entered when beckoned. Allowed the luxury of space more than even his office aboard the now-renamed Tarsus Valorum, Admiral Markus Lekine had lined the walls with numerous shelves of holobooks. The store of military history of the Republic and various other states that had sprung up in the galaxy and died could rival the Coruscant Public Library. Biographies and memoirs of the great military leaders joined them, blank spaces in the collection were manifest; the works regarding Jedi leadership in the galaxy, Galen hazarded a guess.

His stepfather sat at an identical desk to the one on his ship, numerous unfinished reports flanking him.

"You wanted to see me?"

Lekine looked up from his work and placed a datapad down upon the desk. "I was invited to a special meeting at the Imperial Palace tomorrow," he finally said.

Galen's brow furrowed in confusion. "The Imperial Palace?"

"The old Republic Palace." The Palace of the Republic had been built in the very early days of the Republic as a place where the Supreme Chancellor could live and work. Lekine motioned to the numerous devices on his desk. "Sadly, with all of this paper work to do regarding the Selvernos Campaign, I can't find the time to attend." Galen's stepfather smiled. "That's where you come in."

"Me?"

"As my stepson, even though you're of a lower rank, you make a proper substitute in my stead."

His heart sank deep into his stomach. He already had his doubts and apprehensions about the brand new Empire and now he was all but forced into meeting the newly crowned Emperor? Galen swallowed the lump that had formed in his throat and choked the words out. "It's an honor."

Lekine raised his arms up. "Of course it is!' He beamed proudly. "Attending a meeting with the Emperor himself about the future of the Navy. I want a full report from you. If I'm going to have to miss it, I want you to describe it so I can feel like I was fully there!"

"Should I record it for you?" Galen immediately regretted the snark.

Lekine laughed at the suggestion, either ignoring or not picking up the sarcasm in Galen's voice. "I don't think that'll be necessary. Just look your best; what you do will reflect on me."

***

The Imperial Palace could be seen from kilometers away in the Coruscanti sky, its mass of spires leading up to a top turret even more impressive when the shuttle neared it. Palpatine had shied away from the palace during his decade in power, preferring to work directly from the Senate Rotunda and a special office complex created for him. Any need for such faux modesty was gone now, Galen thought.

The rectangular airspeeder shuttle carried some of the most well known names in the Imperial Navy: Dallin, Dodonna, McQuarrie, Ozzel, Pellaeon, and Vosh. Each of them had commanded their part of the Republic Navy to victory on an unknown amount of planets while Galen had done nothing but pilot ships. They made polite conversation with him before the shuttle pilot announced their final approach to theImperialPalace.

The interior of the Imperial Palace was opulent, finely carpeted floors and numerous paintings depicting the history of the Republic. Some paintings were conspicuous in their absence, much like the books in his stepfather's office. The group was led into a large durasteel room, blue lighting panels cut into the wall and glowed brightly.

Galen was ushered towards the middle of a several long rows of Imperial officers, numerous red-robed guards carrying force pikes standing guard at the entrance, even their uniforms different from the blue robes and open-faced helmets of old. His fellow officers milled around, maintaining previous conversations while standing at attention and waiting for the meeting to start.

"What do you think we're here for?" A young captain leaned over to Galen and whispered the question.

"I don't know. My stepfather seems to think that it's pretty important, though."

"Make way for his Excellency, Emperor Palpatine!" A loud voice boomed throughout the room, silencing every being in it. Two dark figures walked into the room: one wearing black robes that covered his form completely save for the now familiar scarred face of Emperor Palpatine.

The other being was taller than the Emperor, standing over two meters tall, and clad in dark armor from head to toe. An inset upon the being's chest blinked in red lights, the constant loud breathing coming from the demonic, tusked mask the only sign that Palpatine's companion was even alive. Malevolence oozed off of the figure, shaking Galen and the beings around him to their very cores.

The Emperor and his companion walked around the front of the line, surveying each and every one of the assembled. Galen's eyes met the sickly pale yellow of Palpatine's and felt that those eyes could read into his very thoughts.

"You have heard rumors about the Jedi treachery and have heard my own words." Palpatine pulled back his hood slightly, revealing the still sallow and scarred skin on his face. "I have come here to show you personally the proof of the Jedi's betrayal."

An officer at the front squirmed at the Emperor's words. "I can't believe that!" He stepped forward, as bold as he was foolish, and pointed an accusing finger at the Emperor.

Palpatine stopped where he stood and turned to face the officer, his eyes burning with rage. "Captain Jace Dallin." The raspy mechanical voice of Palpatine's enforcer identified the brash officer that shared Galen's own thoughts. The armor-clad figure walked to the edge of the platform and stared coldly down at the interloper. "Are you suggesting that the Emperor lies?"

Dallin tried to backtrack and explain that the Jedi that had known were honorable individuals and that a mistake must have been made, but it did nothing to mollify the Emperor and the armor clad figure. Dallin's words died in his throat as the man began to choke. He grabbed for his throat, trying to free it from the grasp of some invisible hand that had clasped hold of it.

Vader lifted his arm and Dallin rose with it, feet kicking with all of his might to reach the ground. As much as Dallin struggled, the others remained silent, each of them not wanting to share in his fate. With a final gasp, the captain's body went limp in the air. The black-clad figure tossed the corpse into the crowd, Dallin's body landing two meters away from Galen.

"Now, are there any more questions for Lord Vader?" Palpatine continued his review as if nothing had happened. "The performances of each of you will be monitored. He will keep me informed if there are any more adjustments to be made. All leave is cancelled and no resignations will be accepted." Galen's stomach sank as the lieutenant looked at the body of Dallin near him. The plan that he had made to just ride out his commission and then retire was just as dead. He turned to look at Palpatine and Lord Vader as they finished their speech and walked away. He would have to find another way out of his commission and the Navy because there was no way in the seven hells that he was going to keep working for the two of them.

The officers filed out of the room slowly, heading back to the shuttle that would take them to their homes. Silence filled the air on board. Gone was the joking and casual conversation, replaced with nothing but the quiet of the grave.

His stepfather was there to meet him when the shuttle landed on the family's speederpad. "How did it go?" Lekine was beaming. "Did you have a chance to speak with the Emperor?"

"He wasn't much for talking," Galen said. "He just explained to us how this New Order of his was going to work."

"And?"

"Killing those who speak out." Galen walked past his stepfather and to his own quarters, leaving the admiral with a confused look upon his face.

***

The bridge of the Asticles was similar to that of the Tarsus Valorum, despite the separate classes that the two ships belonged to. Two crew pits were separated by a wide platform overlooking numerous triangular windows.

Galen sat at his command console, staring down at the useless flight controls. It had been three months since he had been assigned to the new Imperial-class Star Destroyer and he felt as if he had been sitting at his station continuously ever since. The ship was in hyperspace, on its way to Kwenn space station for refueling and a restock.

The ship had been patrolling the Mid Rim for what had to be three weeks, hunting for the group of insurgents that had stolen a Nebulon B frigate while it had been restocking at the same station. Their very actions had given Galen some sort of hope: they had infiltrated an Imperial vessel while the majority of the crew was off on liberty at the station and had eluded capture. Even now, the Asticles was returning to the space station, the search being called of by the ship's captain.

"Shift's over, Lieutenant Wentlas." The voice startled him out of his thoughts. He turned around and saw the pilot for the next shift standing behind him. There was a time back in the days of the Republic that he would know the person's name that replaced him on the next shift, now he could barely even recognize his face.

Galen mumbled a brief greeting and headed out of the crew pit before walking into the turbolift. He walked out as the lift brought him to the recreation room. Gone were the bright colors and pun-based propaganda posters that had frequently adorned the walls of Republic-era ships, replaced by nothing but bare grey walls.

The bar was busy when he reached it, not an empty stool around the durasteel counter. The patrons around it were silent, looking into their glasses and drinking the various colored liquids without talking. Galen ordered a Coruscanti brandy and sat down at a nearby table. The holoscreens around the lounge showed the previous day's HoloNews feed, picked up the last time that the Star Destroyer had left hyperspace. Galen sipped the amber-colored spirit and watched.

The regular Gran news anchor had been replaced a month ago with a human reporter. He sat behind his desk and spread the news from the perspective of the new "Human High Culture” that the Empire was spreading. The Clone Wars had ignited ancient prejudices against aliens that the Empire was all too happy to exploit.

A well-practiced concerned look crossed over the anchor's face as Galen finished his drink. "Breaking news coming in from Caamas this evening. Several Separatist bombs apparently set adrift sometime during the war have detonated upon the surface of the planet. I must warn you that the following footage may be too graphic for some and guidance is advised."

The anchor stayed motionless for several seconds before the screen shifted to the still burning atmosphere of what was once a green and lush planet. What wasn't burning was now barren rock pockmarked with craters and ash. Galen sat the glass down on his table, hazel eyes studying those craters the best he could. He had seen them before: pinpricks on a world's surface after a surgical turbolaser attack on a Separatist position only on a much larger scale. No bomb could have been responsible for such devastation; not so soon after the end of the war at any rate. Any large munitions would take thousands of years from the nearest system to reach Caamas, not only three at the very most.

Galen stood up from his seat and walked silently out of the lounge. The Caamasi had been peaceful people and had long opposed Palpatine's power creeps that seemed so obvious in hindsight. Then, only two months after the rise of the Palpatine-led Empire, they suffered a massive catastrophe that sent the species into near extinction. Galen didn't need to recognize turbolaser craters to know the truth behind it. He drained the rest of his glass and wished that he had the full bottle with him as he walked to his quarters.

The Caamasi joined Dallin in Galen's mind, their deaths intrinsically locked together. He had decided after the latter's death that he could no longer work for the Empire and the genocide of a peaceful people forced a hard truth into his mind. Galen didn't want to admit it: it was practically suicide. The Empire controlled the majority of the known galaxy and all of its resources, they had ten of the very same type of craft that he was on and Kuat was pumping out even more of them from their massive shipyards.

He walked quickly to his cabin, down the long hallways filled with crewmembers returning to their quarters after their long shifts were over. The door closed behind him and he sat on the edge of his cot. He stared at the grey walls and at the sole remaining section of actual color that remained in his room: the deep blue bed cover. He'd fight against the Empire. The thought came so easily and natural to his mind that it nearly surprised him.

Kwenn space station was the Star Destroyer's next destination, a giant hub for ships across the galaxy that was rivaled only by The Wheel and the crossroads of the galaxy that was Brentaal. It had been where the frigate Imperial Dawn had been captured by anti-Imperial insurgents. Galen stared at the station's information on his datapad, noting the various cantinas that hopefully still held some agents of theirs.

No, he thought as he poured himself a cup of caf from the small pot on the shelf. Imperial spies and informants would be swarming the station doing the exact same thing that he would be trying to do. He looked over a map of the galaxy and focused on Brentaal. The planet was near the core, but lay at the intersection of three major hyperspace routes that connected the entire galaxy. Numerous space stations orbited the world and were visited by billions of sentients every day, and it would be extremely easy to get lost in that multitude.

 

And here is another sequel, one I was looking forward to reading because the story of Galen's defection had to be quite something. Of course I wasn't disappointed!

I remember how I intensely disliked Lekine in the first story where he appeared, and the missing books from the shelves nailed it for me in this one. Deep down, he's just a lackey with delusions of grandeur. And he thinks that it's "a meeting with the Emperor himself about the future of the Navy". *snort* Well, in a sense it is, I guess. Just not the way he expects it to be.

I like how you built up Galen's decision to leave the Empire little by little -- from his doubts in the previous story, to the death of his colleague at Vader's hand, to the destruction of Caamas. Also interesting that you would hint at the existence of an active rebellion so early on in the timeline -- it would definitely be suicide to go underground at this point, and I'm sure Galen will do it anyway

Waiting impatiently for part II!

 

It was always something that was kind of glossed over (save for an old DDC entry that I barely consider "canon" anymore), even when he was an RPG character. I know that I feel that he doesn't really consider it a defection: in his mind, he sees it as continuing to serve the Republic.

The revision of history is quite common when a new regime comes into power, and the Empire is just the same. Jedi heroes are discredited, and thus there goes the books and the statues in Monument Plaza. Of course, being a sycophant like Lekine is, he'd be one of the very first that would comply. As for the meeting, I doubt that things that would change for him if it was him that saw what happened. Idiot would probably come out going "Well, that's what that guy deserved to talk back to the Emperor in such a way."

It's very easy to say "This Empire thing is full of crap" and another to actually decide to leave. From his original plan to just coast out his commission to actually trying to find this resistance. The Resistance, as interesting how close it is, comes directly from the RPG module series that this is inspired by. Part II should come out soon after a second round of editing. Thanks for reading, Chyntuck!

 

Kwenn Space Station
Three Days Later

The music in the cantina blared loudly as Galen sat and watched the HoloNews blast its propaganda throughout the galaxy. The emperor was the center of attention, as always, on the newscast as the scarred ruler officially reopened the Senate chamber for the first session of the Imperial Senate. The announcers prided over how quick the restoration had been completed after the terrorist attack several months previously.

Galen turned his attention to his drink. It was some sweet concoction from nearby Toydaria. He sipped the non-alcoholic drink slowly and watched the various crew members of a score of freighters go about their business. He was dressed in civilian clothes: a short-sleeved orange shirt covered by a spacer's vest, and pants made from a tough fibrous fabric. Long ago he had learned that it was better to blend in with the spacers on these space stations than to stand out to some of the more seedier elements within.

The spacers around were all gossiping with each other over runs that each of them had done in the past and what they were planning to do in the future. He approached one of the spacers as the others left, the emerald-skinned Rodian was sipping an ale while watching the sports holofeed.

"I heard you talk about your ship a while later."

The Rodian turned to Galen and gave a non-committal shrug. "She's a ship, what about her?" The Rodian's natural odor turned sour.

"I'm looking to hire a ship for passage to Brentaal."

The Rodian spacer lowered his long snout in a threatening gesture. "Then buy a damn ticket on a star liner and stop bugging me."

Galen backed away slowly from the Rodian. "Look, I just wanted to get to Brentaal and I thought your ship would..."

"And what after that, Imp?" The Rodian stood and shoved Galen hard to the floor. "You get your friends in that Star Destroyer in the docks to board my ship if you find one rivet out of place?"

Galen sat dumbfounded as the Rodian left the bar, the creature mumbling under his breath curses towards the Empire and humanity in general. The Empire's anti-alien policies, as nascent as they were, was already beginning to get under the scales of some sentients.

"I couldn't help but overhear your conversation with Talfos over there." The voice came from a platinum-haired woman. She smiled warmly at him. "He's a little jumpy when it comes to Imperials."

Galen took another sip from his drink. "How did you two know that?"

The spacer barked out a laugh. "An Imperial ship arrives in port and then some human with a core accent comes into the cantina wearing that outfit like it's two sizes too small?" She shook her head. "I can't see why..."

"Enough with the sarcasm," Galen muttered. "What did you want to talk to me about?"

"My name is Okeefe," she said. "I couldn't help but hear that you wanted to head to Brentaal. What's an Imperial want to go to Brentaal for?"

"It's none of your business."

Okeefe shook her head. "When it's my ship and my neck on the line, I think I have the right to know."

Galen stared into the woman's blue eyes. The next words came slow and difficult to his lips. "Because I want out."

"There's been a lot of that lately." She turned to the bartender droid. "Get my friend another one of those drinks he had, put it on Crash's account." The droid beeped an affirmative and disappeared behind the counter.

"Thanks," Galen said as the droid returned with a refill of his drink. He took another drink of it, tongue reacting to a sweeter taste than had been there before.


Galen woke up sitting in a small room, the hum of a distant engine a signal that he was on board a ship. He stood up from his seat and examined his surroundings. The room was once a small guest room on board a pleasure yacht, now gutted of everything except for a bed and the chair he was seated in. The carpet under foot was still a plush maroon.

Galen reached for his jacket, feeling for the service pistol that he had concealed on himself before leaving the Asticles. The leather holster was gone completely, as was his wallet and datapad. He raced to the sealed door and pounded his fists against the metal. "Let me out of here now!" The beats of his hands against the door echoed hollow through the ship. "When my crew hears about this!"

Silence followed for several minutes before his captor's voice filtered through the control panel near the door. "First you want out and now you want your crew? Make up your mind!" The console beeped. "Get back from the door, I'm opening it and I'm armed." Another beep. "If you're not back in that chair when I open this, I'll shoot."

Galen hurried back to the chair. Okeefe, if that was her real name, stepped into the room with a heavy blaster pistol held in her hand. "What did you do to me?"

Okeefe smiled slightly. "A little trick I've learned to guard myself from over the years. Some spacers use it for more nefarious reasons, I use it to get rid of pests." She paused two meters from him, blaster never leaving his chest. "Spies, for instance."

His heart rose into his throat, choking him. "I'm not a spy."

Okeefe laughed. "Spies always say they aren't spies, so that's not going to get you out of this." She pulled his wallet out of her vest pocket. "In the last few hours you've been out of it, I've been running some scans. 'Lieutenant Galen Wentlas, graduated from the Republic Naval Academy on Prefsbelt IV in 10 GRS." She continued on, summarizing his military career in minutes.

"Family is where it gets really interesting. Father: Captain Andur Wentlas, died -9 GRS, but the stepfather... Admiral Markus Lekine." She faked a frown and shook her head. "Who did you piss off to get assigned to this?"

A cold sweat formed on Galen's brow. "Assigned to what?"

"I have friends that I help from time to time. This time it was pretty easy: when the next Imperial ship docks and someone from it says they want out..." Sirona sighed. "I ought to ship your body personally to Director Isard and tell him to try harder next time."

Galen's mind raced. The thoughts to what she was alluding to sounded familiar but escaped from him. "Try what?"

A soft chuckle escaped Okeefe's lips. "Either you're really good at this or just really dumb. An Imperial ship is stolen from that very station and when the next Imperial ship comes in, you saunter into the busiest cantina and start asking for ways out of the Empire."

Galen's heart sank all the way from his throat to deep into his stomach. He hunched over in the chair, hands covering his face. I should have waited... I should have waited longer... The thought repeated itself over and over through his head. "I should have been more patient... I just couldn't take it anymore, not after Dallin. Not after Caamas."

"Dallin?"

Galen explained the situation as best he could about the dark armored Vader murdering Dallin months earlier. She consulted a datapad for long minutes. "Dallin was listed as being executed for treason around that time..."

"I'm telling the truth."

Okeefe paused. "You gave me enough to not shoot you and then airlock the corpse, for now." She turned around and threw his datapad into the room. "I've already copied the contents to another datastick. Hope you don't mind people pouring over your journals, but there are some facts that need to be verified."

The door slammed shut behind her, leaving Galen alone inside of his makeshift cell. He walked over to the sink on the near side and pooled some of the cold water into his hands and drank as deeply as he could. He sat back down on the chair, drying his hands upon the armrests. He knew that joining a rebellious group wouldn't be easy, but he hadn't figured on it being this dangerous.

It would be another day before the door opened again. Sirona Okeefe strolled into the room, blaster pistol still in the holster on her hip. Her face was calm now. "I talked with someone just a while ago and it seems that you check out."

Okeefe pulled a cylindrical security spike from her vest and tossed it towards him. "You'll have a limited run of the ship. You put that in a door console and it doesn't open, that means it's off limits. I catch you trying to slice it open, and I'll slice you open, get it?"

Galen caught the code cylinder. "I got it."

"Good." Okeefe backed out of the door. "You can find the conservator if you take a right. I imagine you're hungry." The mere mention of food sent his stomach growling.

The rest of the day passed with no sign of Okeefe. Galen wandered around the interior of the yacht, checking which areas he was allowed to go and not. The cockpit and the engine room were off limits as he expected, as was another room near his that he suspected were her own quarters. The conservator aboard the ship was well stocked with food and Galen greedily devoured his first meal in nearly two days before finally retiring.

He awoke the next day, the hum of the engines that had been the standard of the previous days was gone. He stood from his bed and placed his boots back on before walking out of his room.

Okeefe was sitting at the table in the common area, accompanied by a somewhat pudgy middle-aged man wearing the light blue jumpsuit of the Alderaan Civil Fleet. The man in the jumpsuit extended his hand. "Lieutenant Wentlas, my name is Captain Adrian Verana. I believe that you were looking for me?"

Galen accepted the captain's hand. "I was until..." His eyes darted to Sirona.

Verana shook his head. "I have to apologize for that. Okeefe is a good hand to have around, but she does take things a bit to the logical extreme some times."

Okeefe frowned deeply at Verana. "You said to stick around and see if anyone asks around about us and eliminate them if they were a spy. That's what I did."

Galen raised his hands. "Don't worry, I understand the need for security. No hard feelings."

"Well, she's been keeping me up to date throughout your trip. She still doesn't fully trust you, but now it's up to me." Vera removed a datapad from his belt and placed it on the table. "Your file says that you're a decorated Imperial officer with an admiral for a stepfather. What makes you want to turn your back on the Empire?"

Galen gave his reasons: the murder of the Jedi and a fellow officer for questioning that, the many amendments that had been made that slowly turned the Republic to the Empire. Verana listened intently and checked at the notes on his datapad.

"I don't see where you can pose any serious risk," Verana finally said. Okeefe scoffed and rolled her eyes. "Are you willing to fight the Empire? To restore the Republic to what it once was before the Emperor came to power?"

Galen steeled himself. "Yes."

Verana's brown eyes stared deeply at him. "If you're caught by the Empire, as a defector you will be mistreated more than any of us. Are you willing to risk that?"

"Yes."

"You may be asked to fight against your family, are willing to do that?"

Galen paused, not thinking of the possibility before it was mentioned to him. He had never had the best of relationships with his stepfather, but to actively try to kill him? "I don't know," he finally said.

Verana smiled. "Welcome to the Resurgence, then."

***

Spoiler: Author Notes

* The image of a droid starfighter inside the cloudcutter is inspired by an incident in 1945 when a B-25 bomber crashed, due to fog, into the Empire State Building.

* Images of a battlefield Coruscant in Dark Empire helped with the description of the VicStar's control vane crashed into the "surface" of the planet.

* Squibs being denied salvage rights to the wrecks in orbit came from an old Insider magazine news piece.

* The "unpersonining" of Jedi heroes as described in both Lekine's office and the Imperial Palace is inspired by Stalin's tactics of doing the same to his people that had fallen out of favor with him.

* The tense meeting with the Empire and the murder of Dallin is taken from Republic #78, written by the great John Ostrander.

* The other officers mentioned by name is practically a smorgasbord of references: Pellaeon, Ozzel and Dodonna are obvious, McQuarrie is Pharl McQuarrie, an extra in Empire Strikes Back played by the famous artist. Vosh was an Alderaanian captain that commanded a Dreadnaught and was first (and only) mentioned in the RPG sourcebook Starships of the Galaxy.

* I moved up the destruction of Caamas, just slightly, to make Galen's need to leave the Empire more apparent.

* Surprisingly, no official document exists in Legends canon (where this story takes place) about what the official explanation for the destruction of the Senate Chamber was, save for a choice few figured out that it must have been Yoda confronting the Emperor in it. Having the damage be "officially" caused by a terrorist attack upon it just seemed to make sense to me.

* Sirona Okeefe was introduced in the Dawn of the Defiance adventure path, where she is a semi-important NPC. She was presented as the aunt of Platt Okeefe, a character from West End Games' RPG.

* Captain Adrian Verana and the Resurgence itself, is from the Dawn of Defiance adventure path as well.

 

Niiiice!

I absolutely love how you hint at the Imperial propaganda in these stories about Galen's early days as a Rebel. Putting the Emperor front and centre in the newscasts is obvious, but making up stories to explain what happened is better propaganda -- and it just works perfectly, both in-universe and story-wise.

It's amusing to see Galen as a novice Rebel here. He thinks he knows how to handle things, but...

... apparently he still has a few things to learn

And wow, this Sirona Okeefe sure is jumpy about Imperial defectors. It's lucky the Rebellion ultimately improved their recruitment methods, because they would've been left with a skeleton crew of civilians if they didn't.

This was a great conclusion to the story -- I liked that the final test was to leave space for doubt in the defector's mind.
I think it would be great if you could list the Galen/Alexis stories in the Prolific Writers' Index in the order where they should be read -- especially now that search is down and that not all threads appear in our profiles, it makes it difficult for new readers to come on board, and this is really a great little series of fics that deserves to be read by more people

 

Excellent You can really see the progression of the change of allegiances and very comprehensive inclusion of characters and situations from many SW sources.

I believe Galen's honesty about not knowing wwhat he would do if it came to turning specifically on his family - that shows his trustworthiness more than anything. He didn't give a pat answer or the one he thought they expected/wanted.

 

Propaganda is always an interesting thing to write. Have enough truth in the lie to make it palatable for the masses and the only ones who'd know the truth are already considered enemies of the state and the state themselves.

Damn it, Galen, didn't anyone ever tell you to not take drinks from strange women?

In all seriousness, he knows what he's supposed to do, but not fully how to do it. While dressing up as a spacer, but not having the real experience with them (in fact in the brief time between his graduation and the Clone Wars, he'd actually been hunting smugglers like the people he's trying to hire.) He's effectively like a kid playing dress-up.