“Will you be all right until Etain gets here?”
Darman looks up from his datapad. It’s still a shock to see Bardan as he is now—no robes, green beskar’gam, helmet under his arm. He’s gone a few days without a shave, cut his hair to a manageable length, and had Darman not known better, could have been mistaken for a born and bred Mando’ad.
“I’ll be fine. Thanks, Bard’ika.”
“Be back in three hours.” Bardan disappears behind the helmet, now a faceless Mandalorian. He pauses, and Darman looks at him, half-expecting him to say one more then. But then he turns and leaves, and Darman is alone.
He waits. He’d much rather have met up with Etain when she returned to the barracks, walked with her down the skywalk to take a transport to the apartment. Maybe hold hands like the couples he’s seen milling around Triple Zero. But this is what they signed up for: a clone and a Jedi general couldn’t be together, so they had to meet in secret.
At least the squad knows. In fact, maybe too many folks are well aware of his and Etain’s relationship. There is some comfort knowing they aren’t the only ones–Atin and Ordo had their respective partners, too.
Before long, Etain pings his datapad I’m here. And the door opens.
Darman crosses the room as Etain drops her bag and heads straight for him. They crash together, Darman scooping her up into his arms and lifting her off the floor. Her arms tighten around his shoulders, her head turns to pepper the side of his head with kisses. He doesn’t put her down, carrying her to the couch. They fall onto the couch and Darman pulls Etain into his lap. They say nothing for a good, long while, letting their kisses and hands do the talking.
“Dar,” Etain says, interrupted by another urgent kiss. “Darman.”
It occurs to Darman that she may not be repeating his name out of desperation, and actually has something to tell him. His hands frame her hips, dark eyes peering up. “Yes, Et’ika?”
She takes a deep breath. She seems burdened by what she wants to say. Her jaw tenses, her lips pressed together. He inhales, and she cups his cheek, an apology waiting in her wide eyes.
“Etain. Please.” Darman’s heart starts to sink.
His heart does something different, stopping for a beat. “What?”
She blinks, the corners of her eyes are wet with tears. “I’m pregnant.”
“Yes.” Etain’s eyes well up and she inhales sharply like the question punched her in the gut. “Our child.”
“Oh.” Darman scrambles to hold onto reality. A child. Their child. Our child. “You’re pregnant?” he confirms, his voice lifting.
Etain takes his face into her hands. “Yes, Darman. I am pregnant. With our child.”
Darman looks down as if he’s confused by the lack of any indication of the pregnancy on her person. “How?” He knows how. “I mean–when?”
“I’m twelve weeks along, which means…” Her face turns red. After a moment of reflection, Darman remembers where they were twelve weeks ago, too.
Darman breaks into a grin. Etain watches his face, still teary-eyed. “Right,” he says with a faint smile. In war, pleasant memories come few and far between. His smile fades when he looks into Etain’s fretful eyes.
“I’m so sorry, Dar, I don’t know what happened. I thought I could prevent this.”
Darman turns his face into Etain’s hand and kisses her palm. He’s at a loss for words. His heart starts to pound in his chest as his mind works over the details. What are they going to do when the baby comes? Won’t Etain get into trouble with the Jedi?
“Dar, talk to me. Please.”
“I’m still trying to…” A baby. He’s never interacted with a baby before, only seen them through glass. “I’m in shock.”
Etain’s hands move to his shoulders, her fingers clutching red fabric. “I’m sorry.”
“Don’t be sorry.” Darman pulls Etain close, wrapping her up in his arms and holding her against his chest. The future has always been uncertain for him and this is no different. All he knows is: “I love you.”
“I love you, too.” Etain sniffs.
Etain tightens her grip on his shoulders and he hears her hold back a sob. “I understand if you don’t–want this–but–I do.”
Her words punch him in the gut. “Et’ika.”
“I know it sounds crazy, but I can feel in the Force that this is right.”
Darman rubs a soothing hand over Etain’s back as he considers her words. How can it be right, when they have to hide their relationship? How can it be right, when Darman himself has no rights? How can it be right when in less than 48 hours, they would both be redeployed to fight in a war?
He’s asked and answered all of those questions, and he chose Etain every time.
“I trust you,” Darman says. “If you want this. If you think I can be a good father.”
“Of course, Darman. You’ll be a great father.”
Etain sits up and when Darman looks into her earnest eyes, he could be persuaded to believe her. He smiles. “We’re going to have a baby.”
