( @kaminoanbat I bet u didn’t think I’d finish the next chapter so fast did you? ^-^ Enjoy a whole lot of new characters everyone!)
Rogue said nothing when Doriana followed Rowan outside. In fact he tried not to react at all, though he did see Switch roll his eyes and mouth 'finally' to Cat. He swallowed and looked down at his datapad again, burying his other hand in the purring tooka’s fur.
When the two came back in, any fool could see how close they were standing. How red Rowan’s face was, and how dark Doriana’s stripes had gotten. But nobody mentioned it. Well, Damyan whistled under his breath, but that was just him being a brat. Of course they were being completely obvious about it, but he knew Rowan at least wouldn't like people noticing.
Rogue kept pretending to read, and while he did smile slyly at Rowan and Doriana, his mind wasn't really in it. Everything about being around other clones- especially Cat - and seeing Rowan and Doriana do the same dance he’d done once (the glances and smiles, the sneaking around and thinking nobody would notice) - all he could think of was Winger. His Winger, his heart. All he could think of was him, and he hurt.
Rogue huffed and shook his head, his silver earrings jangling. It wasn't fair of him to be depressing and moping around when everyone else was so happy. He’d just spoil it. So he took those thoughts - those precious memories - and buried them deep in his heart where nobody could see.
When he looked up again, he could see it hadn’t worked. Dreu was watching him with her arms crossed and looked like she wanted to smack him, which was her way of showing worry. Draake had much the same expression, if slightly less aggressive. He smiled and shrugged as he looked at them, and then away. He’d sort of expected those two to notice.
What he didn’t expect was Cat noticing too.
“How’s it hanging, Witcher?” Cat swung down from the beam he’d been perched on and dropped into Rogue’s lap, grinning at him.
Rogue rolled his eyes and pushed him off so he fell to the floor with a huff of laughter.
“It’s Rogue, you little miscreant,” he said affectionately. “And I'm pretty sure you're the only one hanging around here.”
Cat popped up from the floor, pushing his curly hair out of his eyes and grinning. He wasn’t at all bothered by falling, it seemed.
“What’s with the sour face, brother? I thought you liked it here.” He hopped up nimbly onto the chair beside Rogue, perching with his knees up like some kind of unholy Acklay hybrid.
Rogue sighed, rolling his eyes and setting the datapad aside. Obscure Rylothian witchcraft rituals would have to wait, apparently.
“I know you weren’t part of Topple very long,” he said in a low voice, leaning closer. “But I know you remember Winger.”
“Course I do,” Cat said, losing some of that bright cheerful spark he had. It almost looked like the whiskers on his cheeks were drooping.
“Well, he and I, we….” Rogue swallowed. “Before the tank -”
“I know.” Cat hopped over to share Rogue’s chair and leaned against him. “He wouldn’t shut up about you even back then. Gods, he was so annoying.”
Rogue tried to smile past the lump in his throat, blinking back the tears that stung his eyes. Witcher! Where are you? The echo of a scream from long ago rose in his mind. He wrapped an arm around his brother’s shoulders.
“I miss him so much,” he whispered, voice cracking slightly. “I don’t even know if he’s alive. What if he doesn’t even remember me?”
Just saying the words out loud sent a chill of horror through him. He touched the fortune charm around his neck and whispered a spell to ward off evil things.
“That would never happen.” Cat sounded totally certain, and even a bit defensive. “Winger would never forget you. Ever. Just like I would never, ever forget Mouse.”
Rogue blinked at him, raising an eyebrow. “You and Mouse were together?”
Cat shifted over and rested his chin on his knees, staring moodily at the dinner table. “Nah. Never got the chance to be.” He sounded casual, but there was weighted sorrow behind the words. “But….I would have, if he’d asked.”
Neither of them said anything for a while.
“Dori told me I’d see him again, once,” he murmured finally. “Read my palm and everything. I dunno if it’s gonna happen, but….well, who am I to argue with Fate?”
Cat sniffed and stood up, stretching. “We’ll see them again,” he said. It didn’t much sound like he believed it, but Rogue appreciated the sentiment anyway.
…….
Crow was the first one to notice it.
The Erithuda house had a spectacular roof for being lookout, a high spire with a flat top that looked out over the Lothian landscape for miles. So when the a shadow descended through the mint-green clouds, he was the first to see it, and hear the rumble of a ship coming through the atmosphere.
He watched the shadow warily for a minute, wondering why, exactly, it should make him afraid to think it might be the Republic. Shouldn’t he want to go back?
He huffed and shook his head, his hair falling in his eyes. He pushed it back impatiently. Whoever the hell was in that ship, he should probably tell someone before they landed.
He swung down off the roof, running over shingles and dropping from railings until he hit the ground right in front of Dreu’s garage.
She and Ligara were talking, and the twi’lek pilot looked just about as delighted as Crow had ever seen her - home, working on her ship with a wrench in hand and talking to her girlfriend.
She looked significantly less delighted when Crow walked into the garage, stopping just short of snarling at him.
“Is there something you want?”
Crow was the best out of his squad at hiding his emotions and keeping his face neutral. He crossed his arms and blinked at her, looking unimpressed.
“There’s a ship coming,” he said lazily, as if it was of no concern to him. “Thought you might like to know. Since this is your house and everything.”
She narrowed her eyes at him and stomped outside to look at the green sky, then groaned and swore. “Great. It’s the Asha’ra’m.”
Crow followed her, arms still crossed over his chest. “Is that dangerous, or….?”
“No,” she snapped. “Just annoying and very, very rude.”
“You must get along great,” he muttered slyly.
“What was that?”
“I said that’s great.”
He watched as the ship descended and landed right in front of the ship, and two people stepped out first: a chiss woman with a drink in one hand (tiny pink umbrella and all) and her other arm around the waist of a pretty pink twi’lek girl, who was whispering in her ear and giggling.
“Dreu!” The chiss laughed, descending the ramp. “Babe! Hi. We were in the system and needed some repairs. Also fuel. You mind taking a look, sweetie?”
Dreu threw down her wrench and crossed her arms. “Can you maybe fuck off with the cute nicknames, Aurren? You can’t call me babe anymore.” She looked at the woman beside her and smiled warmly. “Hey, Alyea. You wanna go warn my dad and sister that the horde’s descending?”
She giggled and kissed Aurren’s cheek before heading inside.
“My sister is here too,” she said to Dreu on her way past, with a thick Ryloth accent.
Crow wasn’t paying attention to Dreu and the chiss anymore - clearly they had history, but he wanted to know what the twi’lek meant by “hordes descending.” Because these people looked a hell of a lot like pirates.
First a zabrak - Dathomirian by his tattoos, Crow though. He looked scary, but he had a medkit at his belt, so he probably wasn’t that dangerous.
A weequayan came next - guy with one eye, who looked a bit familiar. He was pretty sure he’d seen him - wait.
Oh, hell. That guy was Doriana’s ex.
The next guy off the ship was a blind Mirialan with long hair, who was laughing over his shoulder to the last person on the ship -
Crow wasn’t really sure why, but he felt something….warp through the world when she stepped out. She was probably the sister Alyea had mentioned - another twi’lek. She didn’t look much like Alyea though. She was white as a seashell, with pale green eyes the same color as the Asfaloth sky, and a very large, fierce-looking Mandalorian screech hawk on her shoulder.
Crow backed up into the shadows of the garage, still watching her coo to the bird like it was a baby tooka. He caught a snatch of Dreu’s argument from behind him.
“- and I bet you weren’t planning to go home and see your mother while you’re on-planet, were you?”
“You leave my mother out of this!”
Crow looked back at the bird woman. He caught his breath. The hawk looked right at him and screeched.
She turned her head slightly, curious to what her hawk decided warranted a shriek that had given it its name, only to be distracted by a tiny pantoran darting out of the ship. She was smudged with grease from head to toe and didn’t even pause when she tripped over her too big boots. The twi'lek watched her go for a moment before glancing thoughtfully back at Crow's hiding spot.
“Is there a reason you’re skulking in the shadows?” she called out to him, smirking. She had the same thick accent as her sister. “Or are you just shy?”
He felt another jolt - he was the best at hiding. The spy, the assassin, the knife in the dark. Nobody found him as quickly as she had.
He swallowed and stepped out into the light, thumbs hooked in his pockets. “Just watching,” he said lazily. “Gotta make sure everything’s safe.”
She nodded, smiling with one side of her mouth. “Fair enough. I’m Avis Deryn, by the way.” She poked the screech hawk in the wing. “This crybaby here is Turtle.” She whispered something to the bird and fed him a strip of dried meat.
“Crow,” he said, ducking his head. “Or CT-3791 if you want to get technical.”
She clicked her tongue, and when she shook her head her lekku swayed behind her. “Now where’s the fun in technicalities, Crow?”
He wondered where exactly the strange little thrill in his stomach came from, when she said his name. That had never happened before.
“So, I was going to go for a walk,” she said. “You know, clear my head. Let Turtle stretch his wings a bit. You want to show me around?”
“Ah - yeah, sure. Love to.” He led her around behind the house to the path that wound along the edge of the cliff, in some places extended with a boardwalk that looked like it was held together with duct tape and spite.
Turtle trilled happily and flew off her shoulder to circle above the ocean. The sound of waves from below was becoming familiar, and the breeze blew Crow’s hair back from his face.
“You weren’t here the last time I visited,” she said. “How long have you lived here?”
“Me? Oh, we don’t….” His voice trailed off.
Did they? Was it really likely they’d ever go back? Crow didn’t think so, whatever he might say to the boys. Besides, everyone he cared about was here.
“Here? Just yesterday and today. But we’ve been on the Ebinor for the past month or so.”
He crossed his arms and looked out at the ocean. With the borrowed shirt he was wearing - shorter sleeves than he was used to - the tips of his wing tattoos could be seen, just about down to his elbows.
She nodded. "And that's why I haven't met you yet. I've spent the last two and a half months on Confederate planets, petitioning and out in the field, helping native avian species." She shook her head, narrowing her green eyes.
"Sentients only think of themselves when they fight with no concern with the other creatures they share their home planets with. Too many birds are nearing extinction because some fool started a fire in a patch of their only food source - no offense."
"Oh, none taken," he said, raising his hands. "I agree. I mean, they don't even care about other sentients, let alone animals. Look at me." He shrugged his shoulders, the neck of his shirt slipping sideways so she could see more of his tattoo. "Don't tell my brothers I said this, but I've figured out by now we were born slaves. If they don't even care for their own precious army, why would they care about anyone else?"
She’d been listening and nodding along at first, but then her eyes fell to his tattoo, and she tilted her head, reaching out one hand to lightly stroke the feather patterns.
“Impressive,” she said. “That’s excellent work.”
"Hm?" He glanced at her, distracted. "Oh. Thanks. My brother did it for me, to match my name." His dark eyes glittered as he smirked slightly. "You should see the rest of it."
"I'd love to." She winked back at him boldly, smiling that half-smile that showed the dimple in her cheek.
His eyes widened slightly, like that wasn't at all the reaction he was expecting.
"Ah - yeah, sometime, probably," he said, a faint flush on his high cheekbones. "I mean - sorry."
"For what?" She grinned and whistled, calling Turtle back to her to feed him.
"Nothing. I guess. I just - I'm fine, how are you?" He winced and shook his head. "And there's your answer. For being a total idiot."
She laughed and shook her head. “If I’d known clones were so cute when you’re flustered, I’d have come back to Republic space sooner.”
He huffed out a laugh, narrowing his eyes at her - a you did this to me expression. “You wanna see the view from the roof?” he asked. “It’s even better than the one from the cliff.”
“Lead the way, pretty boy.”
……
Switch had just finished painting his face - and hands and arms - when the ship landed outside. It was just as beat up and sturdy as the Ebinor, and he was pretty sure he recognized some of the people.
While he was trying to figure out where he’d seen them, the mirialan in front of him - he’d assumed he’d just move aside, even if he was walking backwards - crashed right into him.
“Hey, watch it!” he said automatically, scowling as he stepped back. “Watch where you’re going, mate!”
The mirialan turned around, carrying a crate of spice or something. His eyes were closed, eyelids mottled with scarred skin.
“Well, you know, I would,” he said seriously. “But I can’t find my eyes anywhere.”
Switch held back a laugh, hoping it wasn’t rude to stare. “You’re blind?” he asked stupidly.
“Nope.” He grinned at him. “I just can’t see. What do they call that again?”
He did laugh that time, and took the crate from him. “Well, someone’s snarky today.”
“Thanks, cutie. I try.”
He was glad the mirialan couldn’t see the sudden flush across his face. Switch shook his head, clearing his throat. “Switch,” he said, shaking his hand. “My name’s Switch. And how do you even know I’m cute?”
“Clones are hot. Everyone knows that.” Without warning he put both green hands on Switch’s chest and felt over his shoulders and neck and face. “Mhm. Just like I thought. Gorgeous.”
Switch almost choked on his tongue trying to respond without being an idiot. “And you are?” he spluttered, blushing furiously.
“Single,” he laughed. “But I’m Vadii, if you want my name. Technically it’s Vadiian Lenrahi, but nobody calls me that. Ever.” Something in his voice told Switch not to ask, so he didn’t. It was probably the same as calling a brother by his number, he reasoned. You called people by the names they chose. Not a difficult concept.
“Wait a second,” Switch said, narrowing his eyes (not that Vadii could see that.) “Didn’t you try to rob us a while back?”
“I honestly don’t fucking know,” he shrugged. “I’m a pirate, we rob tons of people. And I have no idea who most of them are.”
“Rowan screamed at you,” he prompted. “That weequay with one eye was hitting on Dori.”
“Oh, that was you!” he laughed. “Sorry, I couldn’t see what was going on.” He paused, raising his eyebrow. The effect with his scarred eyelids was kind of startling. “That Rowan guy is terrifying. Hot, definitely, but kriffing scary.”
“Right on both counts,” Switch laughed. “And he gets scarier when he loves someone. You should see him and Doriana now, they think they’re being subtle and it’s hilarious.”
“For his sake, I hope he treats her better than Hokair,” Vadii snorted. “She might rip off something more than his eye, if she cares that much.”
From somewhere nearby there was an obnoxiously loud screech, and something huge with wings swooped down and startled Vadii, knocking him forward so he and Switch both fell to the ground, with the mirialan sitting on Switch’s chest.
“Could’ve bought me dinner first,” Switch grinned. He gasped slightly when Vadii’s hands brushed carefully over his face again.
“I like when you smile,” he said. “It makes your voice sound even hotter.”
He was trying to think of a response when the screech-hawk landed placidly on his shoulder, nibbling his ear like it was expecting a treat. Switch looked up to the roof where it had flown from, just in time to see Crow and the white twi’lek woman duck their heads down behind the railing.
He pushed Vadii off his chest and sat up, then leaned close to his face. “My brother’s trying to play matchmaker,” he whispered in his ear. “Wanna return the favor?”
“Definitely,” Vadii purred. “Avis needs to get laid, and Turtle will do anything for a bit of meat. Not unlike me.”
Switch snorted with laughter and rolled his eyes. “You’re terrible, you know that?”
“So I’ve been told.”
…..
It was hard to act like nothing had changed. But these pirates were the last people Rowan wanted to know about he and Doriana being together. He was watching from the door to the house now, keeping an eye on his brothers to make sure nobody died or exploded anything. And he was very, very glad Doriana was in the kitchen with her father and Draxo and some of the visitors. A part of him wanted to go in and help her too - he could be close to her, help her get the work done faster, maybe sneak a kiss or two when nobody was watching. But that was the thing - people would be watching. Including Draake. Rowan didn’t know if he knew about them, but he was expecting a scary lecture from the old twi’lek any minute now.
What he didn’t expect was the one-eyed Weequay Hokair to come right up to him and lean against the wall, as if they were friends or something. Rowan looked at him with a raised eyebrow.
“Something you want, pirate?”
“I dunno,” he shrugged. “Is there something you can give me, clone?”
“Don’t call me that,” he snapped, crossing his arms over his broad chest. “And no. Because if you mean what I think, you’re going to wish you hadn’t spoken in a minute. People aren’t things to give and take.”
“Don’t you think I know that?” Hokair scowled at him, narrowing his eye. “Don’t think I can’t see what’s happening. It’s pretty clear what her choice is, and I don’t get another chance.”
“Well, that’s up to her, really,” Rowan said, softer now. Though he felt a flash of panic in his chest thinking of her not wanting him anymore. “But as of now, you’re right.”
The pirate ducked his head and sighed. “Just take good care of her, yeah? She’s above both of us. And don’t tell her this, but I do still care about her. So take care of her.”
“I will,” Rowan promised, but Hokair had already walked away.
…….
He was running out of places to hide. It had taken literally lifting Draxo onto the highest shelf in the garage to get the boy to leave him alone. He didn’t seem to trust a single word Rowan was saying when it came to his sister.
So by the time Draake approached him, Rowan was fairly fed up with sentient beings in general. But he was still Draake’s guest, and besides, he didn’t want any bad blood between him and Doriana’s family.
He smiled tiredly at the twi’lek man, standing up straighter. “Hello, sir,” he said, nodding. “I...suppose you’re here to talk about Doriana?”
There was a faint spark of amusement, and steel, in his yellow eyes. He could see where Dreu got it from now. “I am,” he said evenly. “Came to warn you, actually.”
“I know,” Rowan said quickly. “I know, and I swear I’ll never hurt her or leave her or make her cry or -”
“Slow down and let me finish,” Draake snorted. “I appreciate all that, but on the off chance you ever do -”
“I know. You’ll toss me off the cliff?” Rowan guessed.
Drake smiled at him. He had the same razor teeth as his children. “I’ll be second in line, lad. Did you happen to meet Hokair?”
Rowan dropped his head into his hands and laughed. “Of course, yes. I know.”
The Twi’lek’s smile was considerably warmer now; he wrapped Rowan in a crushing hug. “Then welcome to the family, son.”
Aurren was attaching his left leg when he caught wind of the horrible smell of roasted cabbage through the ventilation. "Harkness' favorite meals to make are roasted cabbage, pickled bantha, and onion and banana juice when it's my day off. So we're going to have a very interesting dinner tonight," he said to Kala, with sympathy in his eyes.
Kala laid in bed, while Aurren did his thing. “Ugh,” she groaned. “Do you think he’ll force me to join everyone for dinner, even if Haline and I feign illness?” It wouldn’t be hard to get Haline to pretend to be sick. The small girl was an actress waiting to get discovered. “Maybe I should lie and tell him I’m pregnant so he kicks me off of the ship.”
Aurren blushed. "Would you eat breakfast with me?"
Kala and Aurren laid in bed together, naked and tired. Neither of them had gotten a wink of sleep last night, and Kala still had a thin sheen of sweat glistening on her olive-toned skin. She glanced over at Aurren when he spoke. Grinning, she rolled over on top of him and kissed him. “Of course I’ll eat breakfast with you... Would you like help cooking it?”
